Me: *scares Myself To The Point Where I Can’t Even Function Because Of The Anxiety I Have Created Over

lost in your fire | camille l'espanaye

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synopsis: When you survived the entire selection process to be Camille L'espanaye's new assistant, you certainly didn't expect to find this type of employment contract. You could bet your life that the worst thing that could happen to you would be a Miranda-Andrea type of employement. Good thing you didn't.

warnings: smut. strip tease. oral. fingering. degradation. praise. pussy slap. age gap. dom/sub. s&m. co workers. tw: use of 'needy pretty slut'. sugar mommy? that can tagged as abuse of power? prostituition? female!reader. gif: @azrphales

You never thought that graduating in journalism would be the answer to all your problems. It isn't an easy profession, nor is it respected or pays that much. You didn't expect your life to be perfect once you got your diploma.

But damn.

Horrible bosses, jobs that added nothing to your life, laughable salaries. Little free time, little rest, little leisure. Little of everything, except work and stress. Those were always a lot.

And all because you didn't have money. If you had been born into a wealthy family everything would be so different. So much better. Because you know you have talent and determination, what you lack is chance. Is luck. And anyone alive knows that luck is just another name for money.

So when you went to the job interview to be Camille L'espanaye's assistant, you weren't surprised that you did it well. You for sure were surprised to be chosen over someone with an established surname. Or that had a least already finished college. Someone older, experienced. But what surprised you more were the terms of contract.

You didn't know for sure if Camille L'espanaye had too much courage or just lacked the shame, but she was the one to give you the contract. Not someone from HR, not a group of lawyers that would speak for her, but the woman herself.

She did like it was just another thursday for her. Maybe for Camille it was.

You dropped the contract on her desk. "So you want a whore?"

Before that you were so polite. Even thought Camille barely looked into your face, you kept on that thankful-employer act. You said it would be a honor to work for her. But after reading that, nothing mattered anymore.

"I need an assistant," Camille didn't look up from her notebook. She was writing something, the way her fingers moved showed concern while her voice was uterly disinterest. She didn't look up from it since you entered her office. "Someone that I can trust to gather information, follow my orders, know when to speak up and when to shut up. But I also require certain things from my assistants."

"Do I look like a whore?"

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe it wasn't the lack of money or a renowed surname. Maybe all your rich colleagues got into great jobs while you rot was because... they are better for you. Maybe that's the only thing you are capable of: work on horrible places because others wouldn't be stupid enough to hire you.

Camille chose you because she wants to fuck you. Not because you are talented, competent, competitive. Not because of your writing, your morals, your desire to become something more. Camille saw you as a fuckable body with a pretty face and nothing more.

"It's not my problem to give a shit about your..."

"That was the reason I made till the finish line?" Camille was the one surprised now. Not only you interrupted her, but there was something on your voice. It sounded almost dissapointed. "Because you wanted to fuck me?"

Camille looked at you for the first time.

Her platinum hair moved along when she bent over the table, her face founding a support on her open hands. Camille was something. There was a fire on her eyes, a flame that just couldn't die.

When Camille L'espanaye looked at you, it burned.

She was more than the daughter of someone important. Camille was the very next best thing.

"I read your thesis. The gatekeep theory and it's changes during the last decade," Camille didn't look bored. Not anymore. "And I read your articles. Your blog. But you know what surprised me the most?"

You found difficult to open your mouth. "What?"

"Your empty curriculum," she laughed. You would have feel ofended, but she kept on talking. "You have talent, that's for sure, but no one noticed it yet. I know you're starving for a opportunity. Now all you need to do is chose: will you grab it, or will you spend the rest of your life hating whoever made the right decision?"

You glared at the paper. "That's not safe for me," you didn't realize you're were gaving in until you opened your mouth. That shocked you. To know that just a few words from Camille turned your no into a almost.

Camille noticed that too. "Item IX."

You thought she would say something more, but at the end you had to open the document again. Item IX was about... limits. Safewords, six different spreadsheets to be filled with your answers about anything related to sex, Camille's own boundaries, NDAs that protect the both of you.

You spend a few minutes in silence. Just thinking to yourself, trying to find a answer. Yes or no? You looked at Camille, and it startled you to see that she was glaring at you. She was so blasé, but her burning eyes showed you interest, curiosity.

Hunger.

You grabbed the pen in front of Camille's smartphone and signed where it was needed. You left the contract on her table, grabbed your purse and didn't looked back.

And what a shame. Because if you had, you would've see how Camille L'espanaye observed every step you gave.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Most of your time is spend with you running from one place to another, gathering information about anything that Camille think is troublesome. Making the right questions, tooking the right photos, knowing when to get out before people get upset.

If Camille senses that something stink, your job is to show her how much of shit is involved on it.

Except by your first day of work. That was unusual. It included getting measured for your uniform and an appointment with her hairdresser. You also run a few blood tests, consulted a gynecologist and signed documents in front of a scary lawyer.

But today was a calm day, and your feet were so grateful for it. It was the first time in two weeks that you could just sit still. Organizing Camille's agenda, confirming her presence on a few events and denying any request for a interview, you took your heels off.

That's the thing about news channels and saturdays: everyone that makes things interesting are too busy enjoying their day off. Normally you are one of those people, but Camille needed you here today.

The phone rang, and she didn't even gave you the time to answer. "My office. Now."

Your heels announced your presence. White dresses, gold earrings and black heels: that was your uniform meanwhile the real one was being made.

Camille was paying attention to her phone, tipping as fast as humanly possible, when you entered her office. Everything was black and white, just like your clothes. "Open it," Camille murmured gesturing towards a golden box on her table.

You got near it, leaving your table beside the box, and opened. Inside it you found the reason why you're working today. Your uniform was there.

Camille clearly can have anything she want, all she needs to do is open her mouth. But there is no way she could speed up a sewing process. Not without getting bad clothes.

You took it from inside the box and notice how it looked just like those school's uniforms that appear on series about rich people. It was soft, warm, and beautiful. There was also a pair of new, black shoes.

She really wanted you to look young.

"And... done," Camille closed her eyes, and passed her fingers throught her hair. It must have been a really stressing conversation. "Now put it on."

"Alright," you put everything inside the box ans took it on your arms, going to the bathroom at the end of the corridor. But before you could made to the door, Camille's voice stopped you.

"Do it here."

Camille demanding you to get dresses in front of her should have make you want to vomit. You shouldn't want that, or her, or that fucking job.

But you do. Fuck, you want that.

Camille told you to grab the opportunity. She show you that it wouldn't wait for you. And it was the right choice. Not only your payment is really good, but she is also paying your college debt as a act of encoragment — her words. Working for Camille will open so many doors for you, and those that won't you can open with her money.

And all she's asking is for you to fuck her.

You fucked girls for free, and none of them were directly responsible for you buying a new car. Why not put a price on your body? Camille is willing to pay it.

It helps that she's hot as fuck.

So you put the box on a couch and gave her the show she wanted. You started just taking off your earrings and necklace. Then you opened the ziper of your dress, slow enough to make her sigh. You let it slid of your body, revealing that you wore nothing bellow it.

You twirl the dress on your fingers, then throw it at her. It feel right beside Camille's phone. Once more her facade broke a bit, her smile way closer to a laugh then to a smirk.

As you put on your new clothes, you gave her a little spin. "Come here," was all Camille said.

You licked your lips and walked towards her. Right in front of Camille, you felt her eyes analizing every single detail of you. She gave you smirk.

"Kneel for me," she ordered. You did as she wanted, your heels digging on the skin of your feet. "Now use your mouth. Prove me your worth."

Camille opened her legs, the dress went up her tights and revealed her black thong. You touched her skin, your fingertips just brushing against her knees and thights. You slid them across her covered pussy, a touch so delicate it felt like a ghost.

Looking into Camille's burning eyes, you put her thong aside and revealed herself to you.

From then on, you were nothing but a starving woman.

Camille held on by your hair. She wasn't delicate. She just grabbed you, almost like you would run away. How could you ever do that? Not with her being so sweet. Not with her lips so warm against your lips.

"Fuck," she whispered. Her incoerent words showed that you were doing a good job. "Just like that."

You looked up, and then you saw Camille looking deep into your eyes. It made you go even harder on her, totally focused on making Camille reach heaven.

"What a pretty thing you are," Camille moaned. Her hand, before pulling your hair with no regards, now carressed your cheeks. "You're such a needy pretty slut, aren't you? My fucktoy."

You moaned against her dripping pussy, drunk on her arousal, and felt Camille shaking bellow you. She's so blasé, so colected, but now you saw her breaking bit by bit.

More confident, you grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer to you. Your tongue brushed against her sensitive clit, your fingers spread her pussy from inside. The sounds she made were the prettiest song you ever heard.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Camille couldn't stop screaming. That all put together bussinesswoman you meet were long gone. She was just a woman in need of a helping hand. "I'm 'bout to, oh god..."

Your felt her melting against you, her legs trembling against your arms. You stopped when her body collapsed against her armchair.

"Get up," she murmured. This time not out of disinterest, but because she was lost on her own pleasure.

Standing, you turned your back to her so you could get your things and leave. But before you could walk away, two hands grabbed you by your waist.

Camille, standing before you, caressed your skin. "Where are you going?" She bit your shoulder, and her teeths dig on your skin. It wasn't delicate, but it was good. "Already running away from me?"

"I thought you were done," you whispered. Her taste was still on your mouth. So sweet it could give you toothaches.

Camille kept on bitting your neck, licking it right after, until she made to your ear. "I'm not done with you," she whispered, and you didn't knew if she was mocking you.

"Sit on my table," she slapped your ass when you moved. "Open your legs." She once slapped you, but this time on your pussy.

The moan that escaped you made Camille force herself against your mouth. She tasted herself on you, but she also felt the taste of your lipstick. Camille licked your lips, trying to get more of you, then went back to explore your mouth.

Her fingers played with your lips, so wet for her, and entered on your tight pussy. So warm, so made for her. Camille curved her fingers, and you held into her. "Just like that," you moaned. "Please, just..."

Camille went harder, so hard you knew that it would hurt the other day, but you didn't care. Camille could hurt you however she wants, as long as she keep on making you feel like that.

"Be a good bitch and cum on my fingers," Camille grabbed you by the chin. That made you open your mouth, and Camille noticed the way your lips covered on her saliva shone. "Show me your tongue."

Camille spat on it, and you gadly took it. You blinked to her.

"Fuck," Camille fingered you as she pinched your clit. You were so close. "You really have a talent for that, don't you? Thinking about making you mine. Chain you to my bed so I can use you whenever I want."

"Do it," you whimpered against her lips.

She spread her fingers inside you. You gasped, your body chocking against her. You couldn't think, you couldn't see, all you did was moan as you came.

Camille continued until you were too sensitive to take it. She licked her lips, now addicted to your taste, and stepped away from you.

She took off her thong and thrown it at you. Camille moved your body, taking her phone right behind you, and sat on her armchair. You breath as you watched her go back to work, but you also smiled when you noticed her trembling feet.

"Cover yourself," Camille started. "Clean my agenda for tomorrow, scheduled a meeting Pym and find someone that make a coffee that doesn't suck like yours."

"But you swallow," you murmured as you put on her thong. It was wet from her arousal and your spit.

"What did you just said?"

"You heard me," you took your tablet and didn't gave her time before you walked away.

Camille L'espanaye observed every step you gave. When you were gone, she throw her phone away and closed her eyes.

"I am so fucked," Camille whispered to herself.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

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This was too many strawberries to draw.

A SUB DM

Your going to need a lot of jackets

starting a girl gang of girls aggressively supporting other girls so reblog if you want in because if we get enough people we’re getting jackets

YellerCrakka

MEET ME AT MIDNIGHT ★ camille l'espanaye

camille l’espanaye x femCEO!reader

again, you find yourself seated across from camille on a quiet night, and this time your flirting has real consequences

warnings: nothing really, it’s all sfw just some sexual suggestions

word count: 2440

note: this takes place before the court case and everything starts

also the ending is kinda rushed bc i just wanted to finish it sorry

the two regally dressed doormen opened each side of the gigantic glass doors, allowing your entry into the restaurant. famously known as the most elegant restaurant in all of new york city, it was unusually empty on this saturday night.  all of the tables were barren except one against the far glass wall.

it was a table for two, already prepped with the proper silverware and two full glasses of wine.  the table’s occupant didn’t spare you a glance as you took your time sauntering over to her.  you knew she must be able to hear the loud clicking of your heels against the marble floor, especially among the off-putting silence, but her eyes were fixed on the sights of the city behind the glass wall.  located on the top floor of a skyscraper, the entire skyline was visible through the glass walls of the restaurant.  it was an especially astounding sight in the dark hours of the night when the city glowed brighter than the stars in the sky.

only when you placed a perfectly manicured hand over the cream tablecloth did she turn her head to look at you.

“and for a second i thought he might actually show up,” you said, still standing over her.  you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth.  “i should’ve known better.”

one of the waiters seemingly appeared out of nowhere to pull your chair out for you.  you gave him a smile and your thanks before you took your seat and he disappeared into oblivion.

“roderick always has to send one of the minions to do his bidding,” you said, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in your chair.

“please, my father has much better things to do than deal with your antics,” camille said, reaching for her wine glass.  her gaze was as sturdy as you remembered.

“and you don’t?”

“apparently not,” she said before taking a sip.  “but you should thank me actually because he could’ve sent froderick instead.”

“you’re right, what a bore” you said.  you suddenly leaned forward and rested your elbows on the tabletop. you pushed yourself so close to her that your chin hovered just above the candle in the center of the table.  your face was illuminated so desirably by the light that camille wouldn’t have dreamt of taking her eyes off of you.  “thank you, camille,” you said, almost in a whisper.  the silkiness of your voice and the slight pout of your lips tempted and teased her.  she knew exactly what you were doing yet you were still undeniably persuasive.

it wasn’t until you abruptly returned to your original position that she was pulled out of your trance.

“you're welcome,” she said plainly, adjusting herself in her seat.

the server brought over two identical hors d'oeuvres before scurrying back to the kitchen.

“but i’d like to think you enjoy my antics.  you must like me a little if you keep agreeing to this,” you said with a knowing smile.

“i’m only here because the rest of my siblings are too incompetent to do…well, anything really,” she said, disinterestedly poking at the food with her fork.

“don’t lie to me.  no one—not even your father—tells you what to do.  you’re here because you want to be.  and because you like me, don’t you?”

camille looked up from her food only to glare at you through hooded eyes.  she hated your smug little smile and the way it made her feel.

“aww, come on, say it.  say you like me.  make me feel good,” you said, placing your hands over your chest.

as much as she would deny it, a little part of her brain wondered how good she could make you feel.  especially when you looked as good as you did, all dolled up for her in that red dress.  her eyes followed your hands which laid just above the hem.  it was only then that she realized you had worn the same dress for your vanity fair cover last month.  oh to be a fly on the wall during that shoot.

“i didn’t think a woman like you would need so much validation,” camille said, finally taking a bite.  “but look at you being a pathetic little praise pony.”

maybe you were going crazy but you could’ve sworn you saw a smile itching at her lips.  and that made you smile.

“i only want praise from you.”

she looked back up at you and you pursed your lips in an exaggerated pout.  if only she knew how serious you were.

“well, you won’t be getting any.  not tonight, at least,” she said.

your eyebrows jumped at that last part, intrigued by her suggestion.

“are you implying-”

“i’m not implying anything,” she quickly interrupted, predicting your every move.  “are you?”

“depends.”  you reached for your wine glass and took a long, thoughtful sip as you basked in the moment of silence you had created.  you ignored camille’s expectant stare for you to finish your thought and let her sit with the possibilities of what you meant.

“i mean, you take me out on these expensive dinner dates, rent out restaurants for me, and expect me not to feel special?  you do this for all of your girls?”

she scoffed at you.  your attitude would be irritating if you were any other person.

“you flatter yourself too much,” she said, leaning forward.  “if i wanted you, i would already have you,” she said with a self-assured nod and a tight, smug smile.  typically that assertive tone left no room for argument, no matter how true or untrue her statement was.  but that was never the case with you.

“oh, don’t lie to me, camille,” you said, leaning in to match her posture.  “i know you’re like your father: intimidated by powerful women.”

camille’s eyebrows shot up, surprised by your sheer audacity, but her eyes and smile still held an element of amusement.  not often was she curious—because in most situations she already knew too much—but the cunning look in your eyes pushed her toward that unfamiliar feeling.

“what else do you think you know about me?” she said, placing her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand as if she had all day.

“oh, just the regular things.  i know that you’re lucky number five,” you said, holding up and wiggling five fingers.  “i know that you and frederick are the only ones who are staying in the family business.  i know…that you’re bright and very good at what you do.”

she was barely listening, lost in your face and your hypnotizing eyes that never strayed from hers.  your words were blending together in her head, turning her brain to mush as she silently admired you in your natural state.  

it was your power that had intoxicated her.  not necessarily your business status or bank account, but the way you carried yourself.  the two of you were alike in that way.

“and that’s why it’s strange that he’s next in line for CEO while you’re slaving away in the basement being daddy’s sock puppet.”

that statement sobered her up quick.  you knew you struck a nerve when her brows pulled down and her eyes narrowed.  she wasn’t hard to offend.

“god, i can’t believe saffron hasn’t crashed and burned because clearly you don’t know a damn thing about business,” she spat, teeth showing and venom oozing from her lips.  “fortunato wouldn’t be a thing if it wasn’t for me cleaning up everyone’s load of dogshit.  you don’t even know how much dumb fuckery i have to deal with; my father—my entire family owes me.”

“relax, camille,” you said in your smooth tone, unphased by her aggression, your lips daring to quirk into a smile.  “that’s exactly what i’m saying; they don’t give you enough credit for what you do.”

suddenly camille was a bit lost as she was unable to figure out what your angle was.  you now sounded so genuine that it was off putting.  she had been so used to your play-fighting and exaggerated lust that she almost didn’t know how to take a real compliment from you.  almost.

“thank you,” she said, pushing her back over her shoulder and averting her eyes toward the window.  she was slightly embarrassed by her unwarranted, short-lived blow-up but made her best attempt to play if off.

“i mean, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to understand that your brother’s a flamboyant idiot.  i mean, i think i actually lose brain cells when he opens his mouth,” you said, smiling to yourself.  “but, even if you’re playing for the other team, i can admit that you’re impressive.  you’ve made yourself indispensable to fortunato.  you’re twice the man he’ll ever be.”

camille tried to restrain herself but a smile spilled onto her lips. it ranked among the top compliments she had ever received.  half because she knew it was true and the other half simply because it was coming from you.

your heart jumped, her rare show of warmth encouraging you to continue.

“i mean, just think about all that you could do if only you were given the means.  anywhere you are is already a force to be reckoned with, but with you at the top of the ladder, fortunato would be impenetrable.”

“cut the crap,” camille said, remnants of a smile still playing on her lips.  “what are you actually trying to say?”

she analyzed every twitch of your expression for a hint.

“what? i can’t just admire you?” you asked, tilting your head to the size and studying her as if she was a prized work of art.

she was a work of art.

she licked her lips, enjoying your adoring gaze.

“save it for the bedroom, y/n,” she said so casually, clasping her hands on the table.  your stomach churned at the thought, your mind drifting.  “i’m the one who called you here but you talk like there’s something on your mind.”

“just you.  always you, actually,” you said.  your smile was smaller and more thoughtful this time.

you had assumed that, with the court case looming, camille had come to broker a deal with you.  as the CEO of a competing pharma company that was in good standing with the public, fortunato could greatly improve their image and reliability by partnering with your company, saffron.  it was an obvious move, one you had predicted months before.  you had just been waiting for the ushers to finally approach you.  and in that time, you had developed a risky counterattack.

she was silent, her eyebrows raised and her lips pressed together, attempting to coax a response out of you.  you breathed deeply and then you gave her what she wanted.

“maybe your father doesn’t appreciate you, but i would appreciate you so much.”

your emphasis was telling.  you would never directly say what you meant but camille always understood.  though there was a hint of something else lacing your strong voice this time.  something not entirely sensual.

“appreciate?  now what could you possibly mean by that?”  she asked, wondering if your promise was simply flirtatious or if there was a deeper meaning behind it.

you chuckled and then you sighed, chastising her lack of deduction with the shake of your head.  your fingers danced across the tablecloth like a spider crawling toward camille.

“you really can’t take a hint, can you?”

she rolled her eyes at your rebuke.  meanwhile you leaned toward her, bracing yourself with your elbows on the table.

“you need to leave your father.  and then i’ll make you mine,” you said.  she was about to laugh but then she noticed your gaze.  it was uncharacteristically straight and serious.  that’s what made her realize that you weren’t joking.

 “i mean that, if you leave fortunato, there will be a spot waiting for you at saffron.  and i can guarantee you that it’s a much higher one than you currently hold.  how does president sound?  maybe even COO if you can charm the board.”

she immediately scoffed at you.

“you’re out of your goddamn mind, you know that?” she said, appalled by your request.  still, it was a better reaction than you were expecting.  “i…wh-what about the will, huh?  i’d just betray my entire family and get cut off?”

“well, first of all, we both know you couldn’t give a single fuck about your ‘family’.  it’s not like they raised you. and as for the will, it won’t matter in the end.  you’ll be making more than all of your siblings combined working under me.”  you subtly flashed her the diamonds on your fingers as proof.  “ten or twenty million more won’t even make a dent in your back account.  you’ll be the richest woman in the world. and do you know why?”

you stuck your chin up at her and smiled fully.  she watched anxiously as the long expanse of your neck revealed itself to her and your eyelashes fluttered majestically.

“because you’ll have me.  all to yourself.”

camille’s chin lowered, looking up at you through her own eyelashes as if to question the validity of your statement.  you nodded reassuringly.

“what are you waiting for?  i mean, fortunato is only on the decline.  it’s time to do something good for once and jump ship,” you said.

you paused, noticing the hesitation behind her blue eyes.  it seemed that she was actually considering your proposal.  so you decided to lay the seduction on heavy.

“there’s nothing left for you at fortunato.  but everything you could have is sitting right here,” you said, confidently motioning toward yourself.  “i mean, come on, baby, look at this face and tell me you don’t want it, this body,” you said, smoothing out your dress.

the wrinkle in her brow and the slight gap between her lips was telling. that distant yet focused look in her eye told you that daydreams were whisking her off to far away places.  she was imagining what her alternate life would be like, what it would feel like, what you would feel like. she was clearly conflicted.

“well, i’ll give you some time to think about,” you said, abruptly standing up from your chair.  she didn’t protest as you picked up your half full wine glass.  “in the meantime, don’t be a stranger,” you said, leaving her with a final smug smile.

you intentionally swayed your hips as you retreated from the restaurant, taking your wine to-go, reminding her that she would be stupid not to take you up on your offer.

“until we meet again.”

my parents aren’t teaching me life lessons.

#i need some adults to TEACH ME SHIT ABOUT LIFE

I am following the gay agenda to the letter then 😀

The gay agenda is coming out and 5 years later randomly getting put into a dnd group with your queer friends and becoming unexpectedly invested into the fantasy genre at the age of 22

lgbt podcasts that deserve more attention in my gay opinion

please let me know if you want details about the lgbt+ representation in these, and feel free to add on :D

death at a low price- my very very fave as probably most of my followers are aware of at this point. scifi/comedy about a group of dangerous queer ppl and aliens who run an interdimensional convenience store. search herbarium podcasts to find it

spines podcast- horror/mystery about a woman who has scary dangerous powers and only remembers a fucked up ritual and information about her “friends” and who tries to figure out what she is and what happened to her and whats going on with certain sketchy orginizations

inkwyrm- scifi/romcom that is basically gays in space fashion magazine version. also includes a lot of cliche gay relationship drama that i live for

freed- soft apocolypse is the best way i can describe it. its a really sweet podcast about a badass lady who makes broadcasts about her progress fixing a mountain town. later on she makes friends that help her out and theres conspiracys and a lot gets revealed about the world. also my fave

junction series-  drama/romance about 4 high school girls who try and start a podcast to find a girl who went missing but get really off track because they are all really gay for each other and have a lot of relationship drama

adventures of mechabetty- scifi/mecha/action about a scientist who turns herself into a mech w the help of her team in order to fight off an alien invasion. really lighthearted and fun

to whom it may concern- fantasy/supernatural about a mentally ill woman who gets haunted by a dangerous ghost and the group of ghosts that are trying to help protect her. Look on the official blog @to-whom-it-may-concern-podcast for this one

oakpodcast- scifi/interactive podcast about an autistic jewish spy who gets stranded and becomes homeless and is forced to uncover the truth behind the bioweapon that she was exposed to

the girl who set out to seek a living wage- fairy tale about autistic fantasy lesbians destroying capitalism and living happily ever after

the blood crow stories- horror podcast about a college student who goes through old psych records of the passengers ofa ship that sank in the 1940s (i think??) and then realizes there is a monster feeding off everyones pain and fear. heads up that this will emotionally destroy you

critical role Yasha

new fan of this show and i’m violently happy about it

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