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#by caitlin
dilfsource · 1 year
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Alfonso Herrera for Open Magazine (April 2018)
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spidertams · 5 months
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Everybody wants to be—…
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Caitlin Rose
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travalicious · 2 years
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arowrath · 2 years
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ur favourite ao3 author definitely has to go back and reread their own stuff cuz they forgot major plot points in their own writing btw it's just a fact
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torpublishinggroup · 10 months
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This advertisement is for The Archive Undying—a debut science fantasy epic from Emma Mieko Candon, and book one in their Downworld Sequence, featuring commissioned fanart of Sunai, the book's main character. The artist is Caitlin Ono.
WHAT IT’S ABOUT
Plugged into his AI god when its corruption renders him unfortunately immortal, sad gay disaster Sunai takes a die-again-or-die-trying approach to his tragically unending life. Despotic police states want to leash him and giant robots want to eat him, but reuniting with the small handful of people he cares about is what’s actually horrifying.
Adrift in the wilds, Sunai makes several unwise decisions such as:
Scavenging old ruins haunted by hostile fragments of another shattered technological deity
Allowing his mind to become further compromised
Sleeping with his mysterious employer for information and fun
Joining a haphazard crew of pirates who all have different motives for hunting a feral remnant of the same god that cursed him, all those years ago
This brain-melting series-starter is like a Neon Genesis Evangelion AMV set to a bass-boosted cover of George Michael’s "Careless Whisper."
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saintacephale · 2 years
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thecollectibles · 3 months
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Art by Caitlin Ono
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evadneares · 10 months
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Caitlin Conlon, "The Surrender Theory"
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overthinksinbisexual · 11 months
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love as violence
caitlin conlon, phantom pains // tina tran, out of the ruins // venetta octavia // iain thomas // yves olade, the miracle mile // sara manguso, love letter (clouds) // traci brimhall, come the slumberless to the land of nod // unknown // margaret atwood, power politics // madeline miller, circe // warsan shire // richard siken, planet of love // hozier, cherry wine
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ssapphic · 18 days
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naughty.
[caitlin clark & paige bueckers x reader]
18+
“get off my cock” caitlin growls in a low tone. her fingertips dig into the skin of your hips, throwing you to the side of her.
you’ve been riding her for what’s felt like hours, her veiny hands glued to your ass, slamming you down on her thick silicone strap. every time you’ve come close to finishing, caitlin taunts you. she’ll still herself inside of you, staring up at you with those evil dark eyes. “what?” she smirks, you’re completely fucked out — and desperate for relief.
the tall blonde at the end of the bed sits up, “my turn, c?” awaiting the nod of approval from the brunette dom, paige’s piercing hazel eyes trail your body, hungry for the sweet milky seepage dripping out of your used hole.
“all yours” caitlin peers at paige as she watches from the other side of the bed, stroking her plastic dick. paige kisses your knees, sliding her lips down to your inner thigh.
paige is so soft, and sweet. the polar opposite of your other 6 foot girlfriend. caitlin is dirty, rough, relentless. especially after a loss or a hard practice, she’s coming home and absolutely ruining you. even if she’s in a good mood, she pounds into you until you’re drooling and crying.
your legs are trembling. paige’s tongue is your favorite way to cum. her kitten licks, the way her long fingers dip inside of you as your clit is submerged in her mouth. she’s a talker too, even with a face full of pussy. “mmm- you like that baby?” her once gentle gaze now dark and eager. you feel your tummy start to swarm with that warm feeling, and paige feels it too. your toes are curling, your eyes are squeezed shut, the pressure in your abdomen caused by the brunette is finally coming to a sweet release — until it’s not.
caitlin’s strong grip on your jaw snaps you out of your blissed out state. “wh-wha-” you mumble out, confused and needy, another orgasm denied. you look at paige, who is now buckling the strap to her waist.
“d’aww, you’d really think i’d let her finish what i started?” her voice is silky and smug.
before you can process what’s going on, caitlin’s on top of you, her knee pressed firm against your puffy bundle of nerves. her slender fingers slide to the back of your throat, “tell me what you want, and if i can’t understand you, you’re not gettin’ it.” you whine from beneath her, trying so hard to choke out your words.
“c’mon baby, speak. or else”
♡ authors note - first post yay :3 this is so self indulgent but idc. i was literally in the shower n couldn’t stop thinking abt this >_< if ur also in love with two basketball mascs, this is 4 u ♡ also i’m down to make a part 2 of this, just wanna see if it does well first hehe ♡
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dilfsource · 2 years
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Patrick Wilson in Insidious (2010) dir. James Wan
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feral-ballad · 1 month
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Caitlin Bailey, from Solve for Desire: Poems; “Pigeons”
[Text ID: “The most brilliant part of / you exists to haunt me:”]
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etherealstar-writes · 2 months
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I WANNA BE YOURS | WOSO X READER | PT 15
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pairings: woso x reader
summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.
part: fifteen
part one here
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ nahhh that's it i'm quitting this job tillies my baes you guys hiring? 🙏
stairway NOOOO Y/N IM SOO SORRY
willybum Y/N NO
elton ABSOLUTELY NOT
kyra ABSOLUTELY YES
cha cha YESSS WE WELCOME YOU WITH OPEN ARMS
stephy of course! 🥰
the REAL karate kid NAHHH
neev WE DIDNT MEAN TOO Y/N WE'RE REALLY SORRY
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ NO YOU GUYS ARE NOT
meado what did you guys do this time
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
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stairway it was nothing!
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ NOTHING?!
willybum did you just make a meme of me ....
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ i've made memes of all of you BUT THAT IS NOT THE POINT RN i hate you all except lotte i love you you're the only lioness i'll support
tom holland's twin while i really appreciate that pls don't leave me with these idiots 🥺🙏
meado waittt i wasn't part of all this why hate meee
earpsy yeah i wasn't there either why do we gotta suffer tho
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ MARY you not being there was what caused this torture and suffering in the first place 😭😭
keira i'm so out of the loop rn
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ SO THESE IDIOTS THOUGHT I'D BE GREAT FOR TARGET PRACTICE IN GOALS AND SHOVED ME IN THE BATTLEFIELD WITHOUT MY CONSENT ME WHOS THE OPPOSITE OF ATHLETIC GOT ABUSED BCUZ OF THEM ALL only lotte being the angel she is helped me
willybum it wasn't even that badddd
stairway yeahh you're being kinda dramatic
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ WASNT EVEN THAT BAD?! EXCUSE YOU I HAVE A CONCUSSION BCUZ OF YOU GUYS AND A MASSIVE BUMP ON MY HEAD AND YOURE CALLING ME DRAMATIC?!
tom holland's twin yeah it was a nasty bump ngl y'all knocked out her braincells
elton i mean to be fair she kinda didn't have many braincells to begin with anyway ....
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ SPEAK FOR YOURSELF THATS ITTT TILLIES YALL MY NUMBER ONE MY MAIN MY HOMELAND
the REAL karate kid
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willybum NOOO NOT THEMMM WE SHOULD BE YOUR NUMBER ONE
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ WELL YOU SHOULDVE THOUGHT OF THAT BEFORE YALL ATTACKED ME AFTER EVERYTHING IVE DONE FOR YALL AND THIS IS HOW YOU GUYS REPAY ME?!
kyra charli and i are coming to get ya rn from these losers we're on our way
stairway WHO YOU CALLING LOSERS?!
willybum this is unacceptable
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
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willybum
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the REAL karate kid
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neev NAHH WE'LL WAGE WAR
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kyra
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come at me you colonisers
tom holland's twin NAHH NOT COLONISERS 😭😭
stairway WE WILL
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cha cha imma bring in the big guns
cha cha added brick wall, ford, lani and sammy the skippa
the imposter aka y/n ❤️
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OMG MORE AUSSIES AYEE
cha cha um that photo .... anyway macca cait lani protect y/n at all costs
brick wall
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aye aye
lani on it!
ford okay!
sammy the skippa um what is happening rn
stephy all you need to know is that we gotta protect y/n from the lionesses
sammy the skippa
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neev we got our own big guns lucy millie mary rach need ya rn
earpsy here!
brightness yes.
daily i was summoned
rusty metal yeah?
kyra well WEVE GOT MCCABE KATIE MCCABE
the REAL karate kid WHAT?!
willybum SINCE WHEN WAS MCCABE WITH YOU GUYS?!
brick wall since always?
stephy yeah katie's an honorary aussie
meado katie?!
mccard yeah i am
elton WELL WEVE GOT ONA ISNT THAT RIGHT?
rusty metal ona?
ona well ..... i'm afraid to tell you that we spaniards have formed an alliance with the aussies
kie THE BETRAYAL 😭😭
willybum what is this blasphemy
tom holland's twin wait isn't spain also a coloniser tho ....
stairway oh yeahhh that's hypocritical of you
ona shhhhhhh
kyra
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cha cha well y/n is successfully ours
willybum ABSOLUTELY NOT
neev WE'LL GET HER BACK JUST YOU WAIT
stairway YEAH WERE COMING FOR YOU KANGAROO RIDERS
samma the skippa
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what are you all gonna do? drown us in your cup of teas?
the imposter aka y/n ❤️ DAMN yall got violated haha
the REAL karate kid
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neev i cannot believe this just happened 😔😭
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
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trulyhblue · 27 days
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Bf Leah being wound up after a bad game and takes control. Smut pls!!!!
BLED BLUE
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leah williamson x chelsea! reader
Warnings: Smut 18+, humiliation, dom/sub dynamics, age gap (legal + consensual), hate sex, enemies w/ benefits, rough, coarse language.
________________
Part of you wondered how long it would take Leah to take you home. There was not an ounce of blue in her body, taken only by the lifelong allegiance to North London, but the thought of you, a blue-born Chelsea girl, taking up the space under her sheets, was addictive.
Chelsea were the better team. Always was, and always will be. The Blues were better at everything. Their players were more advanced, their game plans had been executed to perfection. Arsenal were sloppy, poor, and unjust. It was embarrassing to the point where it stood out as entertaining to you. Seeing the almighty, reigning Arsenal fall on their knees and succumb to the superiority of your team was endearing, and you found yourself searching for the thrill increasingly more as the game progressed.
And the sight of the woman you hated oh so much angered by the defeated notion of the final whistle was your idea of an indescribable victory.
“What a shame, Williamson.” You snagged, clutching the fabric at your hips, looking down at her bent figure. “I thought you’d play well.”
“Ah, it is you.” She replied with just as much spite. “I thought I saw someone falling flat on their face. Makes sense now that I know it was you.”
You smirked, folding your arms over your chest. “Yeah, tried to show my humility… y’know, after scoring two goals tonight I thought it was only necessary.”
Leah scoffed, straightening her posture to display her authoritative height over you. “Both off deflections… sounds brilliant.”
“Player of the match worthy.” You bit back, stepping forward, pressing your chest against hers, suppressing the heat in your face. “Don't worry, I’ll make sure to credit your own goal in the interview.”
“Always have an excuse to talk about me. Can't stop, can you?”
“Is that what you think of me?”
“I don't think of you.” Leah shook her head, grabbing the hem of your shorts and fiddling with them persistently. “But if I did, I’d be sure to let you know.”
“If only I cared enough to hear it.” You tutted, not really caring about the openness of your situation. The stadium was still quite full, with both of your teammates lingering on the field. Fans were banking the barricade, no doubt looking for the two of you.
“I could tell you now if you’d like.”
“Aw, are you thinking of me now, Williamson?”
You felt Leah’s hand move to the inside of your thigh, pressing a tight pinch to gain any type of reaction from you. Biting your lip, you hoped that the post-game redness covered your blush.
“I bet you love the thought of people watching this, don't you?” She asked, glaring at you with such hatred that her words felt bittersweet. “Always so desperate for attention that you’d do it in front of everyone. Fucking needy.”
“You’re the one touching me.” In anger, you snapped. You didn't like the way Leah seemed so confident, so right in what she was saying. You wanted to be right. You were the one who won it for your team. You were better than her. She needed to realise that.
The only separation between the two of you was by your arms crossed over your chest. Leah was drawing furious patterns along your thigh, pressed up against you with her face above you, your height earning her to look down.
“Pull away then.” She uttered, now pulling you into a hug. You knew this would send fans into a spiral. Everybody knew about your rivalry with Leah. It was evident in the tackles, the cards, the teams, the games, the interactions. This was unclaimed territory. You had both teased each other after the games. There was always fire and spite, anger and resentment, but never contact. She told you to pull away, and by the tension that lingered, if you did she would let you have there was something else there. You felt it between your legs, running down your spine, making your core yearn.
It was in the way she kept her hand in between your thighs, deepening her fingers just below where you needed her most. She held you tight, closing any physical gap, forcing your arms to circle her waist as she wrapped her spare arm around the name on the back of your shoulders. You don't know why, but you held her back just as tight, breathing heavily when she started moving her fingers upwards.
“So tense.” She spat, rubbing your shoulder.
You shook her arm off, keeping the contact but still resistant. “I pulled it at training, of course it is.”
“Wasn't talking about your shoulder, baby.” She chuckled, her voice sending goosebumps down your neck. “In those thighs. Clenching them so hard and I'm hardly touching ‘em.”
That was when you knew your cheeks were burning.
There was a hint of humiliation in your tone, but your anger was still prevalent. “I didn't even notice your hand.”
“Yeah, alright.” Williamson grinned, pulling away. You felt the cold air nip your cheeks at the sudden loss of contact. Her fingers were no longer soothing the ache in between your legs. “Alright, baby, no, all that flushed cheeks from the big game, hm? Breathing so heavily cause you scored two goals, is that you’re so wet for me?”
“I’m not— you're so—”
Leah stepped away again, and you were too stupid to step forward in response. “God, is that what you're gonna sound like in the interview? You a mess, Baby, really. All flustered and red.”
“I'm not red.” You snapped. “And stop calling me baby. You're only four years older than me.”
Leah could see straight through you. “But you love that though.” She saw straight past your visible persona. “Why don't you show me how mature you are then? Can't call you baby if you prove that you're not.” She could tell by your flustered state, your wide eyes and your tainted disposition that you were struggling to handle the conversation.
“I don't need to prove anything to you. I just won the match. That's enough to prove that I'm better anyway.”
“But you needed help to get there, didn't you?” She retorted. “It’s not your name on the score sheet, it's mine. Look,” she pointed up to the screen, almost condescendingly, above the stands, where WILLIAMSON (OG) was printed boldly in white below the score. “All that hard work and I still get the mention.”
There was a fight for dominance, but the fight was so clearly won when you audibly gulped, unable to come up with just enough answer to compel yourself into a deeper state of anger. If anything, you were willing to resort to forbidding, but you were stubborn and bled blue.
“You’re just mad that you lost and we won. Chelsea was always better anyway, and you were just too slow… bet that's always the case.”
Leah’s jaw clicked, her lips settling into a thin line.
“In what case?” She muttered distinctly.
“You know what case.” You failed to notice the challenge, finding yourself in a superior position of confidence to realise the hole you were digging for yourself. “Slow and boring… on and off the pitch. You definitely get around, but you never seem to see one person twice. Maybe that's because they don't want to see you.”
Leah grabbed your wrist, yanking you off the field. It was a tradition that you would see the fans after every game, so you tugged back in retaliation.
She pivoted to face you, glaring at you with so much affliction that you yearned for more.
“You seem really interested in how I ‘get around’. Sounds like you wish it was you.”
No matter how hard your body was willing to succumb to her words, you stood firm by scoffing, rolling your eyes at her cockiness. “If only I was so desperate.”
“I’ll show you just how desperate I can get you.” The captain spat, holding your forearm now, easily leading you further down the tunnel where fans or players could no longer find you. “Didn't even properly touch you before and you were a needy mess.”
“You’re always so fucking sure of yourself, aren't you, Williamson?” You snapped back, hearing the clad of your boots fail to drown out your ungrateful tone. You did not care for what Leah was so keen to impress you with. Never had anyone told you that Leah did not impress. She was determined to make sure everyone was supplied with the right things for their needs. She valued giving pleasure over receiving. But if there was one thing she hated, it was brats like you.
You stood outside the Chelsea changing rooms, your kit still adorned on your figure.
“Go get your shit.” She snarled, letting go of your arm and jabbing you forward.
You scoffed, stopping dead in your tracks. “And what? You're gonna wait for me and drop me home? I have a license, Williamson, I'm not your fucking—”
You couldn't finish your rant, yelping when Leah cut you off, grabbing the collar of your shirt and mashing her lips against yours. One of her legs found its way between yours, her knee pushing against your core. A moan fell from your lips, and the woman wasted no time in slipping her tongue in, caging your figure between you and the wall.
She waited until you were kissing her back before grabbing your neck. She instantly moved down to litter harsh kisses down the nape of your neck, using her hands to move underneath your shirt, massaging your breasts. You were a mess beneath her, breathing heavily when the pressure on your clit intensified when her knee started rubbing patterns up and down.
“Swear at me again and see how it turns out for you.” She muttered in your ear, relishing the whines that fell from your lips as her knee continued its work. “If I tell you to grab your bag, that's what you do, yeah? You understand, Chelsea?”
The nickname left you shrinking, her words making your core glisten. You weren't completely sure whether the Arsenal girl was planning on taking you home. You didn't understand why you were all of a sudden pretty much moaning at the friction of her knee.
But you weren't fucking complaining.
“My teammates are in there.”
Leah let out a laugh. “You had no problem letting me touch you in a filled Stanford Bridge, Babygirl. I think it’d be healthy if your teammates realised who fucks their Stargirl after a home game.”
“You haven't fucked me, yet.” Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, the thought of the England captain fucking you sending you into a spiral.
“Go get your bag and then I can use that pretty mouth for something other than moaning my last name… not that I mind when you do that.”
You wasted no time in doing as you were told, forever thankful that all of your teammates were either still interacting with fans or showering. You grabbed all of your stuff and quickly followed Leah over to the away changing rooms.
She let you walk through, since none of the girls were present, grabbing your belongings and chucking them inside her cubby. You felt her figure cage you back into the nearest wall, her hands how playing with the hem of your shirt, inching it further up your waist until it was completely disregarded, and you were left in your sports bra and shorts.
“Why so quiet?” Leah asked, kissing down the column of your neck, fondling your breasts. You sighed at the growing ache in your core, throwing your head back when Leah’s knee came back into contact with your clit.
“Some— someone’s going to walk in.”
Leah snorted. “Like you would mind.”
You huffed, grabbing the back of her neck and pushing her head further down your body. Leah’s knee stopped in return, leaving you writhing at the loss of pressure.
“Use your words or you can get off yourself.”
“Like you could get me off.” You retorted.
“I don't make brats cum.” She spat, moving back up to tower over you. “I edge them until they’re desperate and getting themself off my thigh. I treat them like brats, and maybe you need to work a little fucking harder for what you want.”
“You were just teasing me!”
“You're just desperate.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Leah.” There it was. Music to her ears.
“What?”
You whined, using your hips to drag yourself along her knee.
“What was that, Baby? Couldn't hear you under all those whines.”
“Leah, c’mon.” You stated potently, getting more impatient by the minute. “I'm not begging.”
The number six shrugged, looking down at you with wide, innocent eyes like she had no clue what you were going on about. Like she didn't even realise that you were humping her leg longing for some relief.
“Begging for what?” She moved her finger painstakingly down your chest, tracing your abs ever so slowly.
“For you.”
“For me?” She questioned, feigning confusion. Her hand dipped into the waistband of your shorts, circling your clit over your underwear. “Answer me, Darling. What do you want me to do? I'm touching you.”
“Touch me more.”
Leah tutted, moving her hand away. You groaned, throwing your head back when no pleasure was offered. “I'm afraid that's not how you ask. It might get you somewhere at Chelsea, but at Arsenal, we treat our Captains with respect. Even our star girls use their manners in the North end.”
“Touch me more, please.”
“Where, Chelsea?” Leah moved closer to you, peeling off her own shirt, removing your shorts, leaving you in your underwear and bra. “Be a good girl and tell me where.” She asked, her body lowering itself closer to the ground. You watched her kneel before you, hands gripping your waist, kneading your hips, lips biting your inner thigh.
“My clit, Lee, please. I need you to touch me there.”
“Such a good girl for your Captain, aren't you?” Leah ran her tongue along your folds, your underwear pooled at your feet. Your legs were swung over her shoulders, your hands buried in her hair, pulling taunt to her ponytail and the hairs that had fallen out during the game. Your moans were still muffled by the bite in your lips, the nerves of someone hearing your desperation for your enemy is still evident in the way you kept your mouth shut.
It was when Leah’s tongue latched onto your clit, sucking harshly on the swollen bud that your noises fell so adamantly from your reddened lips. You felt Leah’s cocky smile, her chuckles sending vibrations of pleasure through your body.
“Sound so pretty, Baby.”
“Leah— fuck, Lee. I'm gonna—”
“You’re going to hold it. Taste so good, you can wait.”
The coil in your stomach was forming long before Leah had even started, and the more Leah attacked your bud, the more your orgasm led to burst. Your moans had doubled in volume when one of her hands came up to play with your nipple, pinching it and playing with the nub every time her tongue licked up your folds. Her other hand worked its way through your pussy, spreading your slick all over your thighs, letting it run down your shaking legs and make your skin glisten with the glossy arousal.
“Want Stanford to hear you,” Leah spoke from below you. You whined at the thought. You were in a state of pure bliss that all cautionary thoughts of interruption were so far gone. All you could think about was Leah’s face between your legs.
“Feels so good, Lee. Want to cum so bad for you.”
“You can hold it, baby.”
“Mh, Lee, please.”
Leah moaned at your whines, nuzzling her nose up against your clit, pinching your nipple hard, reeling at the moan you let out in response. She saw the way your hole clenched around nothing, smirking at the way you rolled your hips across her face, working your pussy into her mouth so easily. She felt powerful knowing she had you at her disposal. You were stunning always, but there was something about you now that set Leah off. It made her angry knowing that you weren't hers to fuck at her discretion. It made her protective over you in ways she had never felt before. You were Chelsea’s protege — everyone worried when going up against you.
“Leah.”
It wasn't like something had changed, but Leah had realised that her hate was actually protection and adoration. She wanted you for herself. She wanted to steer you away from anyone that would hurt you. She hated Chelsea, she despised the West side more than anything, and it wasn't the sex that made her realise this.
“Leah.”
It was her name coming from your lips.
“Cum for me, Baby.”
That was all you needed to hear before you were barreling over the edge, your legs relying entirely on the strength of Leah’s upper body to keep you balanced. Your moans exemplified the stimulation of your orgasm riding out, and Leah’s endeavours to lick the result of it up as it poured into her mouth and onto your thighs.
The woman made sure you had somewhat caught your breath before she moved, having a moment to catch her own breath and comprehend what just happened. When she knew you were able to stand independently, she moved over to her cubby, grabbing the baby wipes she always had handy, moving back down to her knees to clean the mess across your legs as you covered your chest back with your jersey, and later your shorts.
Leah moved to do the same, except she watched as you fumbled with what to do. She gave you a pointed look as if to question your thinking, and you simply sighed and waddled over to her, slight humiliation at your wobbly legs painting your cheeks as you grabbed your bag.
“You all good, Baby?” She asked, her voice no longer authoritative and rather empathetic.
“Yeah, thanks.” You nodded. “Erm… sorry for being… rude… actually I'm not sorry but I am.”
“Yeah, same,” Leah replied a cheeky grin settled on her complexion. “I think we can settle for friendly rivalry from now on.”
“If that's what you call this, then sure.” You added, laughing along with what to make of the situation, feeling more out of place than ever in the middle of the Arsenal room. “I better go.”
“I’ll drive you home.”
“Lee, I've got my license—”
“It wasn't a question, Chelsea.”
You stood there defeated, knowing internally that you had no way home after Millie had driven you to the stadium and would have left by now anyway. Leah must’ve known that by the way she wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into her chest.
“Besides, wouldn't want that Player of The Match Trophy getting forgotten now, would we?”
_________________
A/N — bad ending but oh well… HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!
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lunar-vvitch · 2 years
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Today, Caitlin Doughty of the Ask a Mortician YouTube channel posted a video discussing the fact that her recent video, a long form documentary style video on the 1915 disaster of the SS Eastland in Chicago, the story of which has largely been forgotten, was given a community guidelines violation. It did not violate the guidelines YouTube has claimed it did, or any guidelines. But the video was essentially shadow banned. Caitlin is, of course, a mortician, and also a death-postive advocate and educator. Her entire channel is about education and honest discussion of death. The SS Eastland video was the product of months of work by her and her team in collaboration with historians and relatives of victims of the Eastland. An educational documentary that had the sole purpose bringing light to a forgotten tragedy and remembering the victims has been hidden away from all but those who know right where to look for it. The video is below, please watch it and share so this story isn't forgotten.
"A massive ship, an unthinkable tragedy, a chance to make sure the victims of the SS Eastland aren't lost to time."
Edit: the embedded video won't play because it's been age restricted :| of course. here's the link: https://youtu.be/UCHt2MOVCbg
youtube
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