Camp Counselor! Tashi Duncan Hcs

introducing ·˚ ༘ *..

mike faist x actress! reader (smau as well as ff!)

you’ve been a renowned actress for a while now. since 2016, you’ve hit the big screen in american honey, and have moved your way up to becoming an a list celebrity. now, in 2025, you’ve starred in multiple films and tv shows, and have gained fans and friends alike in hollywood.

actress! reader who has starred or played supporting roles in:

american honey (2016) ; directed by andrea arnold (alongside sasha lane, shia labeouf, and riley keough)

ladybird (2017) ; directed by greta gerwig (alongside saoirse ronan, lucas hedges, and timothée chalamet)

a quiet place (2018) ; directed by john krasinski (alongside emily blunt, john krasinski, millicent simmonds, and noah jupe)

the king (2019) ; directed by david michôd (alongside timothée chalamet, robbert pattinson, and lily-rose depp)

emma (2020) ; directed by autumn de wilde (alongside anya taylor-joy, johnny flynn, and mia goth)

dune: part 1 (2021) ; directed by denis villeneuve (alongside timothée chalamet, zendaya, and oscar isaac)

bodies bodies bodies (2022) ; directed by halina reijn (alongside amandla stenberg, maria bakalova, and myha’la)

la chimera (2023) ; directed by alice rohrwacher (alongside josh o'connor, isabella rossellini, and alba rohrwacher)

dune: part 2 (2024) ; directed by denis villeneuve (alongside timothée chalamet, zendaya, and austin butler)

shows:

this is us (2016 - 2022) ; created by dan fogelman (alongside milo ventimiglia , mandy moore, and sterling k. brown)

yellowjackets (2021 - present) ; created by ashley lyle and bart nickerson (alongside sophie nélisse, jasmin savoy brown, and sophie thatcher)

a/n: hi everyone! so this is def a new thing i’m doing, so bare w me if pics look blurry 💔 also, did u guys see how i made you star in a movie with both josh and zendaya😆 i’m helping you already hello 👅 but i will try to be updating this as much as i can, fs! new part will be out soon!

Zendaya for Louis Vuitton

sleaze ; patrick zweig

you never thought you'd hook up with a jock—especially not patrick fucking zweig. the audacity he had, prancing around like the epitome of testosterone and privilege. you hated everything about him. the mere sight of him strutting through the hallways with that infuriating smirk always set you on edge.

yet, here you were, his letterman jacket draped over their shoulders like a brand.

it started after school, when you were too high to care about the consequences of their actions. the intoxicating, earthy smell of weed still clung to your fingertips as you leaned against the graffiti-covered wall behind the gym. and patrick? he was there.

and somehow—god knows how—you ended up in his car.

the leather seats were cool against your skin, the smell of his cologne filling the small, stifling space. patrick sat stiffly in the driver’s seat, his usual smug confidence replaced with something quieter, more unsure. his hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, and his eyes kept darting to you, like he thought you might bolt at any second.

“you should eat something,” he finally said, breaking the heavy silence. his voice was quiet, hesitant, like he wasn’t sure how you'd react. “i mean, not like, right now, but, you know. something. something that’s not… this.” he waved vaguely at them, at the evidence of your current state—the glassy eyes, the telltale haze of someone who’d stopped giving a shit for the day.

you'd only flashed an amused look. "..right." and nodded. he was being weird. you thought it was only for sex. caring wasn’t a good look on him. he huffed a reluctant laugh, running a hand through his tousled hair, mussing it from its usual perfection. his discomfort was obvious. he wasn't used to this—this intimacy that extended beyond physical touch.

"you always so high?" he asked, his voice quieter than usual. it wasn't judgement, not really. just an observation. a fact he couldn't ignore. "can't you function without it for a minute?"

"i mean, i could." you mused. the weight of your words struck him. he knew why. you knew why. you shrugged softly, staring out the window. "do you want me to leave?" you asked, your voice tinged with amusement.

his grip on the wheel tightened, his jaw clenching. he turned to look at you, really look at you. your carelessness. he shook his head, sighing deeply. “no. i don’t want you to leave.” his voice was quiet, a stark contrast to his usual cocky self. “and that’s the problem.”

"step-up from when you were kicking me out of your car." you scoffed. "patrick. we hook up, okay? you don't need to act like if you care. about my eating habits or the amount of weed i consume.” he would stop caring outside this car, anyway.

his knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel. his jaw clenched, his usual demeanor faltering for a moment. he took a deep breath, his shoulders tensing as he forced himself to relax. when he spoke, his voice was low and rough, tinged with frustration.

"i'm not acting like i care," he said, his tone dripping with annoyance. "i do care. shocking, i know. but i do." he turned away from you, running a hand through his hair in agitation. his shoulders were tight, like he was bracing himself for a fight. "i'm not some heartless asshole. i have feelings, just like you do. i just don't show them often." there was a brief pause, his throat working as he struggled to force the words out. "not all of us can be as detached as you are."

"excuse me?" you scoffed. "are you trying to be self rightous right now? because you're not. i'm not a goddamn charity case. don't turn this on me."

he bristled, his jaw tensing. "i'm not trying to be self-righteous," he ground out. "and i’m not acting like you're a charity case." his voice took on a sharper edge, biting. "i just think you're better than this. getting high, screwing around, acting like nothing matters." he huffed, his grip on the steering wheel tightening even more. "i've seen you when you're sober. you're smart. you're better than this."

"oh, you've seen me?" you spat out. "that's rich. you haven't seen me outside this car."

"maybe i haven't, but i’d like to." his voice was surprisingly earnest, the sharpness giving way to something softer. he didn't look at you, his gaze fixed out the windshield, but the line of his jaw was tense. "i'd like to know the real you. the one who's not high off her ass, the one who's present in our conversations.”

there was a long moment of silence as his words hung in the air, stark and vulnerable in the closeness of the car. he kept his gaze fixed ahead, his tension palpable. finally, he spoke, his voice quieter this time. “this thing we have, it doesn’t have to be about sex, you know? maybe… i should take you on a date.”

“who are you and what have you done with patrick zweig?” you mused. he was rough, careless, and annoying. a blend of charm and intensity, as well as arrogance and impatience. praised for holding a racket and running across a tennis court.

he huffed out a laugh, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “trust me, i'm just as surprised as you are," he said, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. then his expression sobered a little. "but seriously. no sex, no weed. i mean it." he turned to look at you, his eyes meeting yours in that intense way of his.

“just… go on a date with me. get to know each other outside of this damn car."

you’d found out that day that he was stubbornly determined.

they’re one years old today 🩷

spiderman!art x reader — MDNI

Who.. when you first found out, he tried to explain himself. extending his hands towards you but accidentally shooting a web, barley missing you. his eyes wide, “I—okay, you..you got me. I’m Spider-Man.” And you freaked out.

Who.. loves sneaking into your room by climbing your wall and knocking on your window, you had completely forgotten he was Spider-Man. You look out the window to see him stuck on the wall. “How—how the hell are you doing that? Art.” You gasped, he laughed right in your face. “you okay? did you already forget?”

Who.. whenever he comes back from a battle, he’s right at the window and as soon as you open, he gives you the biggest hug ever before he removes his mask. Scratches surrounding his face and his body. You quickly take care of those and the night ends with cuddles and sweet kisses.

Who.. wishes his suit wasn’t so hard to take off when you both were about to get intimate, you, legs spread all wet and ready for him but he’s busy fumbling with his suit, trying to take his leg out. He sighed in relief when he’s finally out of it, without a warning, slamming into you with desperation. He really needed this after all those stressful fights.

Who.. webs your hands against the bedpost before continuing to eat you out, his face covered in your fluids. All you could do is squirm and moan as he continued his restless assault on your heat.

memories ; art donaldson

art loved you. he had known ever since he had met you. he might’ve been hopeless in the moment (patrick said so, but whatever), but really, he won. he got you, and he was sickeningly content. you two had just gotten married, and were currently vacationing in greece for your honeymoon. the two of you were cuddled up on the hotel’s bed after a lazy morning, not wanting to get up.

you flashed a soft smile, noting his gaze on you. his palm rested against your head, the tips of his long, pale fingers tracing along your hairline. his thumb gently rubbed under your ear, in the tender spot behind it. he pressed a kiss to your temple, as he returned the smile, eyes flitting over your face. the warmth of your expression made his pulse quicken.

he leaned forward, pressing his mouth against yours in a slow kiss. his fingers gently tilted your chin, slender digits cupping your face as the kiss deepened. his tongue traced over your lower lip, the gesture lazy and yet full of affection.

“you’re my dream,” his hand tangled in your hair once he pulled away, eyes flickering to your face. he watched you intently, taking in the sight of you curled against him. his fingers skimmed over your side, tracing a constellation of old scars along your back. his expression softened, a tender smile tugging at his mouth.

you flashed another smile. “isn’t it crazy that we’re married?” you hummed, running your fingers across his chest lovingly. he huffed out a laugh, letting out a noise of agreement. he rested his forehead against yours. his breath was hot and steady, ghosting over your lips. “how did i get so lucky?”

the recollection came to him in fragments of memory, each flash more vivid—more tangible—than the last.

meeting you at a party he’d been drug to by patrick, his blue eyes flickering over you, lingering on your form as he nursed a cheap and watery beer. your head thrown back in laughter, the sound cutting through the crowded room and catching his attention. there was a flutter in his chest, he couldn’t hear what you were saying, but he wanted to hear it again. exchanging numbers and names in the cool, nighttime air. you’d flashed a sweet smile. “i’ll see you around, art.” and he watched you leave in a trance.

when he first kissed you, fingers tangling in your hair as he pressed you into the brickwall of a nearby building. your body arching into his as his mouth molded against yours. he remembered the first time he saw your place, messy and unorganized, records in no particular order with books covering your dresser.

he could recall the first time he took you to a coffee shop, your laughter over some dumb joke he’d said at the counter. your fingers in his hair after you’d dragged him to a club, the taste of tequila on your tongue as you’d pulled him into the backseat of an uber with a devilish gleam in your eye.

he’d met your parents next, your mother looked him up and down before your father pulled him into a bruising hug. he had taken you to the lake at night, stars speckled across the sky and the coolness of the water making your skin prickle. your fingers on his back under his shirt as you’d pulled him through your door, lips on his neck, eyes hazy with desire.

his head on your lap when you’d gone over to movie night at tashi’s, your fingers massaging his scalp. his head on your lap in broad daylight, your hand cradling his cheek, thumb tracing over the freckles that kissed his nose. the first time you’d kissed at his apartment, warm, soft laughter as he pulled you on top of him, his mouth on yours and hands wandering greedily over your body.

he slowly opened his eyes, the reminiscences still lingering in his mind. the rain still tapped against the window, a steady, lazy rhythm, providing a fitting backdrop to his thoughts. a tender expression still graced his delicate features, his gaze remaining on you. the warmth of his hand remained on your back, fingers gently tracing the pattern of your scars.

“i love you.”

“i love you too.”

intertwined by a ring. he’d never take it off. neither would you.

I don’t wanna be serving cunt anymore I don’t wanna eat and left no crumbs I don’t wanna be gagged I just wanna be normal and basic omg

art with lily in the hotel bed makes me so upset. like tashi you could do no wrong but you did wrong there

yikes. unstanning now. was okay with the cannibalism, wasn’t aware of the ‘being mean to nat’ part.

“who’s that?” - 1

you had just finished wrapping up a long day of filming, feeling exhaustion float off you. curled up in your trailer, you grabbed the tv remote, in search of something to watch until you (inevitably) fell asleep. you scrolled, eventually, then landed on a movie you hadn’t seen, but decided to give it a shot. after all, there were two familiar faces on the screen.

challengers.

you hummed thoughtfully, pressing play, and cozing up.

holy shit.

any thought of sleep evaporated at the start of the movie. you sat through the whole thing, gaze on the screen. specifically, on an unfamiliar face.

art donaldson. at least, that was his character’s name. you chewed your lip in thought, bringing out your phone.

a/n: yum i just started this👅👅 yes i also made u friends with timothée bc damn!! i figured since there’s so many movies tg 🤣😂😂 okay gonna keep writing, ty!