this pussy? designer. cucci, if u will,
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Not today Justin
Jules of Nature
will byers stan first human second
Three Goblin Art

titsay
Peter Solarz
hello vonnie
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
One Nice Bug Per Day
i don't do bad sauce passes
todays bird
Claire Keane
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
No title available
DEAR READER
KIROKAZE
Cosimo Galluzzi

seen from China

seen from Germany

seen from France

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Canada

seen from Israel
seen from United States
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from Malaysia

seen from Netherlands
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Sweden
seen from Canada

seen from Türkiye
@petrabright
this pussy? designer. cucci, if u will,
“she believes she has been a prisoner since she has been a daughter.”
— Louise Glück, from “Persephone the Wanderer”, Averno (2006)
EMRE AKBAR.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
“It’s you and you’re here, alright,” Emre countered, slipping so easily into that familiar tone. Affectionate, even. As much as Petra had for him - they both always knew where to stop. But here on Meridium, tried to rein in the familiarity, keep himself chill and cool.
He snorted a laugh at Petra’s question. ‘You good?’ she asked in her sweet American twang, as if they’d met randomly at some afterparty during Fashion Week. As if they were playing one of their exciting games, casual and planned to ensure Dominic Stone suspected nothing and Lovely allowed his fam that precious leeway.
This wasn’t London though. Emre tore his gaze away from her to stare out at the ocean. “Fucking hell…” he murmured as she jiggled her coconut, so distracting and she knew it. But he couldn’t get lost in Petra because this wasn’t fucking London. He had to think. He had to recalibrate everything, all the foundations he’d laid. He had to adapt and adjust, because short of (very regretfully and apologetically) strangling her to death, Petra Bright was here with him, forever.
Yeah. That last name Bright.
How hadn’t he seen it before, when he chatted with Piper? Dr. Piper Bright, from America - but she was so different from Petra. Piper and Petra might share the family name and the melanin, but everything else about them was opposite. Everything. No, this oversight wasn’t his fault. Emre never could’ve fathomed any connection there. (Ironically one could argue the same about the Akbar boys, but Emre didn’t see it that way, of course).
“A few days, alright. Okay. Please tell me you’ve been briefed and all that. About what this island’s about because I don’t wanna be the one to tell you, sweetheart. And - and you’ve met your sister…” Emre said cautiously, eying her. “Yeah?”
He only barely registered Petra’s method of arrival - she seemed reticent, so he’d skip over the nitty gritty. Instead, Emre got his t-shirt on and tugged Petra with him.
“Come babes, come on. We need to talk about…don’t even fucking know where to start. Wish I could say I’m gassed seeing you but…” Emre looked at her, his eyes luminous as he led them away from people - away from everything. Emre just wanted Petra to himself.
Because he realized he held one wildcard. This was Petra. She was the only person on the island who actually knew him. Sure, he’d made his admissions to Iyaz; but Petra actually lived that world, at least the glamourous part of it.
He knew she’d seen plenty on her own, given who her London boyfriend was.
And most importantly, Emre knew Petra knew how to keep secrets. She collected them like she collected accolades - with a fine-tuned gusto.
Emre brought them to a quiet place at the mouth of the river. He settled on a boulder in the shade, waiting for Petra to settle as well. “Right. So, Pets.”
He’d tell her everything, beginning to end, confident she’d understand. Maybe she already knew about Lovely’s murder. He’d tell her all of it, and then he would make it their little secret. He’d tell her to keep it from everyone - including her sister.
He wondered how difficult that would be.
Emre was ready to tell her all; but instead he cupped Petra’s jawline again, and kissed her. Soft and brief, before he pulled away. “So, hello.”
.・゜゜・
It’s true that Petra’s mind was overfilled with so much information she didn’t know what to do with - or even believe, for that matter. Piper told her this island wasn’t natural, that it was scary, and people developed attunements, that Matthew has been living here for over two centuries and no one ages ... Emre’s voice allows all of that nonsense to melt away seamlessly.
Emre gives a sound, somewhere between a snort and a some laughter and her lips quirk into a smile. But for a moment, just a moment, she was willing to pretend to ignore everything else for this one fucking moment. This moment that she can mold and control, - with the help of Emre, of course, who then has to look away from her and she can’t help but allow her own small snicker escape her. Fucking hell was right, though. What a weird circumstance to find themselves in.
❛ Yes, yeah, yeah, ❜ Petra gives the famous wave of her hand in dismissal. ❛ I’ve talked with Matthew, I caught up with Piper, I met Tamyra fucking WIlliams. ❜ It was a lot in such a short amount of time. But, it’s okay. It’s alright. She can digest all of this later when she’s by herself, screaming into a pillow of leaves. ❛ It’s all out of the way. ❜ Is it, though? Truly? For now, yes. It will be.
She chuckles knowingly while following him into the jungle with trust and confidence. As Emre takes her through the jungle, Petra can’t help but imagining a holiday - she’s dreaming she’s off the maps, on hidden grids. This isn’t London, and deep down, she knows she could never go back there. Yet, she can still see Emre and Petra worshipping each other like holy days in the backseat of a fogged up car.
As they walk, she wonders how he’s adapted to this new life. Seeing as he was still keeping to the shadows, doing his own thing, watching and observing, she can only assume he’s doing his best to blend in.
At the mouth of the river, placing herself leisurely on the boulder. She should look around, take a look at the beauty that the island gives. The crystal blue waters, the brilliant green trees, the colourful sounds that the birds sing into warm air ... All she can focus on is the way that, somehow, this was happening.
❛ Mhmm? ❜ She hums in response. Emre looks like he’s ready to tell her something and then, instead, in the blink of an eye, his lips are on hers. She smiles into the kiss before Emre pulls away. ❛ Hi, ❜ Petra replies lowly. Tracing a finger down the bridge of Emre’s nose, then finds her thumbs gently rubbing the dark circles beneath those soulful eyes.
Unable to help herself Petra kisses his mouth again, she was like a moth to a flame. Her fingers play with the hair that curls at the nap of Emre’s neck. ❛ This is an unexpected surprise. ❜ She murmurs against his lips, looking at him through her own hooded and dark eyes. ❛ Obviously you feel the same, you dragged me off rather quickly. ❜ She grins, a playful spark in her body language.
EMILIA RAMOS ALVAREZ.
⇢ 🕮❤🕮 ⇠
Emilia’s eyes had followed the direction of the other woman’s camera lens seeing what it was that she’d been taking photos of. Knowing that someone had a camera on them, now being able to take photo evidence for when they get out of here just to prove that none of them were crazy. Even with no answers yet, no idea how many pictures of this place she’d taken, it almost felt like a step towards some kind of breakthrough. When she pulled the camera away, now turning and acknowledging Emilia, she was a little embarrassed that she already confused her. Not everyone on this beach was obsessed with the new people from the jungle Emilia, she thought to herself. “Oh, right, sorry! That must have sounded so snobby. Like I expect you to know all about me and what I’m doing here.” This was why she disliked having even a tiny bit of spotlight on her, the one time she takes advantage of it she makes herself look like an idiot.
Luckily the part about Matthew made sense, he must have introduced himself and Emilia was just too concerned about the look in his eyes to pay attention. “Yes, him. The First, perhaps those other two are The Second and Third?” she was mostly thinking out loud to herself, not really looking for an answer though she was curious to know when all three of them had arrived here as well as all the others. Perhaps when she’s got enough courage she’ll ask, or even see if Briar or Libby would be willing to ask for her. “Either way, I’m glad I’m not the only one who sees it. I don’t want to be rude he just seems hard to read.”
With a smile, Emilia took Petra’s hand as she introduced herself, her name sounding almost like a stage name, was it actually her real name? The smile slowly fell when Petra informed her that she had only just arrived which she should have picked up on before she even said it. She looked so fresh faced, not like some of the others she’d seen who certainly gave off the long-term islander life. “Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that. You must be so lost and confused. My name’s Emilia, has anyone told you anything about this place yet? I’ve been here for a while, well, not here here, on the beach. Like I said before I came from the jungle so I wanted to see how others have been faring on this part of the island. But if you have questions of your own I might be able to help.”
.・゜゜・
❛ Snobby? ❜ Petra asks with the rising of her brows. ❛ God, no. You weren’t snobby. You were very kind, I promise. You just caught me off guard, that’s all! ❜ She gives the woman an easy smile, still holding her camera in one hand, close to her body, coddling the item. Petra would be able to sniff out a snob from a mile away, certainly. Katya and Clarance were the biggest snobs Petra had the displeasure of sharing a house with. Having a Russian model for a step-mother and a seedy, lowlife for a father with a grand taste for everything and anything expensive taught Petra how to read elitists to the bone. She had to if she wanted to survive in such a world. She had to learn quickly. With the snap of Katya's perfectly manicured fingers, Petra had found herself being victim of an arbitrary set of rules that someone else set to meet their so-called standards.
Giving a laugh at the joke Emilia, she hits the woman’s arm playfully with a free hand. ❛ Okay, but, have you seen the way the woman stares the other two down? ’ Moving a little closer to Emilia, she hids her lips behind a hand to whisper, just to add to the humour. ❛ I saw the angry looking one chewing Matthew out the earlier today. I think it had to do with a goat finding it's way into his camp? - Anyway, that woman came around and shut that shit down with just a look. ’ Petra shakes her head, now moving away from Emilia. ❛ Ouf, no way, girl. Esther, I think her names is? Who stands between ‘ The First ’ and the angry troll completely runs things around here. ❜ There’s no way Esther would be taking being called The Second or The Third lightly. She seemed nice enough, from what Petra has witnessed from a distance, but she was also someone that Petra didn't want to cross, as much as she was intrigued by the woman.
When it comes to Matthew? Well, not so much. ❛ My sister told me he’s ancient. I’m talking over two centuries ancient. ❜ There’s a small pause. ❛ I still have a feeling she might have been high on some sort of herbs or leaves around here ... But, if she says is true, well, he might have forgotten how to interact with humanity. Which is just kind of sad, really ... ❜
‘ you must be so lost and confused. ’
Well, there’s no doubt about that. ❛ I like to think I’m doing my best. ❜ Comes her quick reply and a smile to match. Petra knows that Emilia doesn't mean anything by the comment. Petra's pride was still in tact, which means she was hellbent on keeping it that way. ❛ It’s nice to meet you, though, Emilia. ❜ And it was. This felt good. This simple introduction. The simple learning of names. ❛ Okay. I’m sorry, so, wait. You lived in the jungle? In there? ❜ A slender index finger is being pointed sharply to the mouth of the jungle. ❛ How long were you in there for? What do you mean you've been here for awhile? ❜
The sound that emits from her throat is a mix between a groan and a whine. It's for more of a dramatic effect as she gives Emilia a look of disgruntlement. ❛ Please, don't tell me you've been here for over two centuries, too. ❜
What are you trying to prove?
❛ What gave you the idea I’m trying to prove anything? ❜
LAURA HARRIER The Savage X Fenty Show Vol. 2 (2020)
❛ ━ of course sometimes shit go down when there's a billion dollars on an elevator ! ha-ha ! … ❜
Have you ever been let down by somebody you trusted to be there for you?
❛ Are you usually this confident when it comes to information you believe yourself privy too? ❜ Petra doesn't mean to come off as snarky, but the question forces her mind drift to one person. One name. Eloise Lawson, her biological mother. The woman who was so easily swayed by hush money. Dirty money. ❛ I don’t see you paying me for this interview, and for the life of me I can't figure out why you'd think I would talk to you about this. ❜
Have you disappointed your family? What about your siblings? Have you disappointed yourself?
❛ My siblings are my family. ❜ Petra replies in a clipped tone and a little more rushed than her usual slow and soft twang. If they wanted to hear about Katya and her father, they were going to need to try a little bit harder than that. Now, when it comes to Piper and Peyton ... Well.
In some ways, perhaps, she has disappointed them. Petra has always been worried about disheartening them. They were so precious to her heart that she always pressured herself to be the best of the best. That was not any of their fault, by the way. No one told Petra to throw herself into the ringer, she did that just fine by herself. ❛ Yes. I’ve disappointed them. ❜ She says, and to her, it’s nothing but the truth. ❛ They just don’t know it yet. ❜ She has kept many things from her siblings, and she does worry about what Piper and Peyton might think of her if these things were to ever come to light.
When it comes to herself, Petra blinks slowly, thinking. Her features are smooth, not a wrinkle of stress in sight. ❛ When it comes to myself, I'm going to settle on no. I haven’t disappointed myself. I’m actually pretty proud of myself. ❜
In my stories, the horror flows from the real. And the best narrators of that horror are women, young women who often feel monstrous and on the edge, living behind glass that suffocates them and that they cannot break.
Notes on Craft, Mariana Enríquez, tr. Josie Mitchell
Pip, Pet, & Pey: The Bright Siblings
“Piper had always told them, her two baby siblings, that hugs were the world’s way of reminding them they all had a place, even if it was just in each other’s arms and that’s why they all fit together so well.”
@petrabright
Do you realize things too late?
❛ Excuse you? ❜ The question catches Petra off guard. Her emotions bubble upward within her chest, ready to come out and spill from that silvery tongue of hers -- and she has to push them away. ❛ That’s a rather bold question, don’t you think? ❜ Comes her own qestion, rather cooly. Bold makes for interesting, though, and Petra can't help but be intruiged. ❛ No. In fact, ❜ Petra begins, tucking a few long braids behind her ear before shrugging with ease. ❛ I think I tend to realize things too early. I'm not sure which one is worse. ❜
ooc: did any fictional characters and / or real life people inspire this character? if so, tell us about them!
Ouuu! Petra is a mix of an old muse I created a little over a year ago who was also a model, so I’m able to go back to the muse every once in a while and gain some inspiration if I ever come to a roadblock. I’ve also recently started to take some inspiration from Cordelia Chase, but Petra isn’t outright mean like Cordelia when she was first introduced to the show. Petra was certainly the popular girl at her private school, but she wasn’t that stereotypical mean girl. She took new kids on tours of the school, she would help peer tutor after class hours. And if she were throwing a party, Petra would invite everyone in her class year - everyone was welcome. ( mostly because she knew having that many kids at her home would piss of Katya and her dad ). Petra, like Cordelia, is a bold, brash, and extremely self-confident person, traits that are going to remain unchanged while on the island. I didn’t call her Challenger for nuffin’ ...
And not to scare anyone off, but Petra has an Amy Elliott-Dunne secretiveness about her. Katya, her step-mother, pushed Petra into the modelling life and as much as Petra hated it, she saw it as her ticket out. She adapted and she became good at her job out of a necessity for survival. The person she became, this character she inherited as a model earned tremendous spite from Petra, who constantly feels like she’s living under the shadow of this seemingly flawless version of herself that she puts up for the rest of the world to see ( i'm excited to see how long she keeps this up for ... ).
Petra learned how to become adept at charming and even manipulating people, making them believe she is whatever they want her to be. Which, more inspiration might be taken from Jay Gatsby, now that I type this out. Petra is grand, inviting, and alluring. But on the other hand, she is always planning her next moves. She’s always trying to be at least a few steps ahead of everyone else in order to keep her image in tack. On the surface, Gatsby is caught up in materialistic world and he measures his life by possessions and what he can give other people to keep them distracted. This makes people think that’s all there is to this mysterious man. It makes him solid. On the other hand, he does all this because he has goals. His wealth and possessions are just more steps to the bigger picture in his head, and that’s how Petra works, too. But, all of that wealth and possession is gone now - and now Petra has to figure out where to go from here.
Jil Sanders
Have you ever abandoned people before?
Petra is used to intrusive questions. Hell, Katya and her slew of Public Relation professionals have taught and ingrained into Petra how to handle these sorts of questions. She has gone though numerous interview workshops and has required hundred of hours of communication training.
Nothing was going to prepare her for question that makse her sick to her stomach. Because before she can come up with an answer that would be deemed reasonable, her mind painfully drifts to Peyton.
Petra has beeing thinking about her little brother everyday. Five days is the longest she has gone without speaking to him. He would most likely be worried by day seven. And when he goes to call her, her phone will go straight to voicemail, if her voicemail isn't clogged up with messages already, that is. And then he'll text, and text, and text. He will do exactly what Petra did with Piper.
Peyton has always had Petra covered, like she’s got his back. At their private school, he would walk her to class so those jerks can see he's still all the more protective than he was the day before. He would joke he would still be doing this when they go off to college. That was before Katya took any notice in Petra, of course. At home, when the adults weren't looking, he would poke fun at her morning and night. Peyton was Petra’s worst enemy and best friend all in one neat package.
❛ What an interesting question … ❜ Petra begins as a short stall to regain the soft slip in her composure. ❛ Didn’t your mother teach you that it’s rude to ask such personal questions? ❜
❛ ━ hang up the chick habit, hang it up, daddy ! a girl's not a tonic or a pill … ❜
EMRE AKBAR.
¯_(ツ)_/¯
Emre was in a sour mood. The lovely rain had let up, allowing the sun to peek through the clouds in what looked like it was going to be a bright and sunny afternoon. Mashallah in one way - because Emre’s homestead WIP needed a bit of drying out anyway, before he could keep building on it.
But the midday heat was unbearable to him, no matter how much coconut oil he applied to his skin. He’d shifted to a new sleeping/working schedule with the rainy season, so he was currently wide awake. He tried napping in his and Iyaz’s shelter, but he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t even rest.
So here he was, huddled by what was ostensibly the coolest place on North Beach - near the makeshift fruit and veg supply. With a small army of filled water bottles around him, Emre decided he’d take his frustrations out on young green coconuts. Some earth-magic person had managed to bury a short rebar deep enough into the sand, so Emre just had to viciously hack the green shell onto the ominous sharp metal pole. And then his cutlass chipped it delicately, making a neat drinking hole at the top.
Then, with the coconuts opened up, he carefully set them on the fruit stand for people to help themselves.
It was a good system. Emre got to be violent, and people’s thirsts got to be quenched. If he got thirsty, he’d help himself to an open coconut, or a water bottle.
He worked shirtless, just because it was easier, considering how hot it was. But he kept his baseball cap and shades on; and he was sure he looked proper bait right now, a real chav wanker. But no one seemed to mind him at least.
That is, until he heard someone call his name. He looked up, squinting as he lifted his shades.
And like some mirage in the desert - the sort of mirage every man with a functioning dick would dream about seeing - Petra Bright appeared, clad in a thong bikini.
Emre pulled of his shades and lifted his cap, not believing his eyes. A myriad of emotions crowded for attention inside him: the glee of seeing beautiful Petra Bright was quickly overshadowed by dour, disturbing alarms - panic, connection, fear, ruin.
But surprise overwhelmed all of it, when she came close enough that he knew.
“Petra fucking Bright. Fucking hell,” Emre breathed. There was no eventuality-planning in the world that could have prepared Emre for Petra Bright. He reached up, just to trace along her jaw with his thumb, as if trying to confirm that she was indeed real.
She was real alright. Soft and warm and just as stunning as he remembered. But finally his pragmatism slid back in place, and Emre’s eyes hooded.
“It really is you, innit. Little Pet. What happened? I mean - how’d you arrive here then, sweetheart? How long’ve you been here?”
.・゜゜・
Emre lifts the shades upward, allowing Petra to see the glimmer of realization in his dark eyes. Different emotions flow through her like a river. Anxious. Frightened. Excited. Attachment. Wreckage. She does her best to ignore the moments that her memory can recall so easily.
If Petra didn’t know any better, she would have thought that Emre was shirtless because he had heard of her arrival. The way he looks at her, though ... The way he reaches out to caress her ; it’s obvious he had no idea she was here. He’s just as shocked to see her as she is to see him.
And then his features shift into a look that is more serious and Petra feels so thankful for the small piece of familiarity.
She smiles with the playful roll of her eyes. ❛ It's me, Em. I'm here, ❜ It still hasn't sunk in yet. That Petra was stuck here on this island. The last few days and evenings, she's been staring out toward the sea, waiting for an army of rescue teams to show themselves on the horizon. ❛ You good? Or have you not taken in your full coconut water intake yet? ❜ Petra moves to pick up the coconut she dropped and bounces the fruit in front of Emre. What the hell else was she supposed to say? What the hell is she supposed to do right now?
Emre gives her question after question to answer and she takes a beat to shake her head and give a nonchalant shrug. ❛ Just a few days. I’ve been here for not even a week, I think. ❜ Despite her sleek wrist watch, Petra’s days are already proving to blur together. Day turns into night, night turns into day, and the same thing just keeps happening.
When it comes to how Petra got here, which seemed to be the most popular question she's been asked, she keeps her answer short. ❛ Helicopter. ❜ She says for what felt like the hundredth time. What she doesn't take into account in the moment is that Emre knows her and her ways of avoiding a topic she rather not have. ❛ Wait, -- Wait. So ... ❜ Petra crosses her arms over her chest comfortably as she squints at Emre. Then points at him with a slender finger, ❛ You, though. How long have you been here? How did you get here? ❜ She can't help but allow her finger to drift up and down, gesturing to Emre and his shirtless self. ❛ I'm going to assume you've been here for a bit of time. You look leaner compared to the last time we saw each other. ❜