#pagne

[primepaginequotidiani]

PRIMA PAGINA Il Tempo di Oggi mercoledì, 15 gennaio 2025

[kimludcom]

Beautiful Girls #longhair

[sammydigitaleu]

[g00se-ars0nist]

dan please never talk about phil’s penis again

[everythingroyalty]

I think it’s interesting that ever since Christian started at Ordrup, we don’t really hear/see leaks in his personal life the way we did while he was at Herlufsholm. What he does is obviously no one’s business, especially since he’s still a child, but it rly was his own homies at Herluf who were putting him on blast 💀

It's funny, isn't it? The old money menaces really had 0 respect for Chrille's privacy 💀 Now he only ends up on social media through OG's own post 🤣

[faster-market]

ROBE PAGNE POUR FEMME

goutez à la création contacter nous

[pequene-ninho]

I think what's hilarious in all this is that I've been in the site since apr 2014 and was today years old when I learned about GASP lmao... like i think someone sent it to me once but because it clogged my notifs i unsubscribed...

[melosliving]

can you write meeting parents — for aaron 🫶🏾🫶🏾

sorry for the absence this week babies but college is already kicking my ass 💀 I made reader congolese bc my people need representation 😩 I really hope you’ll like it boo ❤️

FREE 🇨🇩

aaron pierre x african!reader

meeting your parents for the first time !

The late afternoon sun was beginning to sink below the horizon as Aaron pulled the car to a stop in front of your childhood home. The house looked exactly as you’d described it—modest but full of life, with vibrant flowers blooming along the walkway and the faint sound of Congolese rumba spilling from the windows. The smell of chicken maboke drifted through the air, and children’s laughter echoed from the backyard.

Aaron exhaled slowly, his hands resting on the steering wheel as he took it all in. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked, turning to you with a soft smile that didn’t quite mask the nerves in his eyes.

You reached over, lacing your fingers with his. “baby, my mom already loves you, and you haven’t even met her yet. Trust me. You’ve got this.”

He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah you’re right.” You stepped out of the car, brushing the dust off your pretty dress as Aaron followed, carrying the bouquet of lilies he’d picked out earlier that morning. Before you could even knock on the door, it swung open to reveal your mother, dressed in a bright pagne dress that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. Her sharp eyes swept over Aaron, assessing him in an instant.

“Mama, that’s aaron,” you said, your voice light but steady.

Aaron stepped forward, his deep voice warm and careful. “Mama, nazali na esengo mingi ya kokutana na bino.”

Your mother’s brows lifted in surprise, her lips curving into a smile. “Eh, boye ! You speak Lingala ?”

Aaron gave a modest shrug, glancing at you. “𖤓 been teaching me.”

“She’s teaching you well,” your mother said, stepping aside to let you both in. “Landà ngai ! Come in.”

The inside of the house was exactly as Aaron had imagined—cozy and full of life, with framed photos on every wall and the scent of freshly fried mikate wafting from the kitchen. Your younger cousin peeked out from behind the doorframe, giggling as they sized him up.

“Are you taller than Uncle Robert ?” One of your little cousins asked, his head tilted back to look up at Aaron. He crouched slightly, his smile kind. “I don’t know. How tall is Uncle Robert ?”

“Very tall,” your cousin declared, spreading his arms wide.

Aaron chuckled, glancing at you. “Then I guess I’ll have to meet him to find out.”

Your mother reappeared with a tray of warm mikate and a small bowl of peanut sauce, setting it down on the low wooden table in front of Aaron. “Try this, my son,” she said, watching him expectantly.

Aaron didn’t hesitate, picking up one of the golden, soft pieces and dipping it into the sauce. He took a bite, his eyes widening slightly as the flavors hit his tongue. “This is incredible,” he said sincerely, looking at your mom.

Your mom nodded, clearly pleased, but her tone turned serious as she settled into the chair across from him. “So, Aaron, what are your intentions with my daughter?”

You groaned softly, covering your face with your hands. “Mama, vraiment ?”

Aaron didn’t miss a beat. He met your mother’s gaze, his voice steady. “My intentions are serious, Mama. I care deeply for 𖤓. She’s… everything to me.” Your mother studied him for a long moment before her face softened. “Eh, tala ye. We’ll see,” she said, reaching for a piece of mikate herself.

The tension eased as the evening wore on. At one point, your mom pulled Aaron into the kitchen under the pretense of needing help with the pondu. You stayed in the living room, laughing with your siblings, but your ears were trained on their conversation.

“So, you love my daughter?” your mom asked, her voice light but pointed. “Yes mama, I really do,” Aaron replied without hesitation, his smile never leaving his face.

“Then you must learn more Lingala !” she said. “What will you say to the aunties ? To the elders ?”

Aaron’s laughter was soft and genuine. “Then you’ll have to teach me, Mama.” When your mother laughed in return—a rare sound that filled the house with warmth—you knew he had passed her test.

Later in the evening, after the meal had been shared and stories exchanged, the living room came alive with music. Your cousins moved the chairs aside to create space, and someone turned up the volume on a familiar mutuashi song.

You tried to resist when your aunt tugged you to the center, trying to put a pagne on your hips, but it was no use. Laughter bubbled from your lips as the rhythm of the drums filled your chest. You let the music take over, your hips swaying in perfect time, your movements fluid and full of joy.

Aaron watched from the couch, his eyes fixed on you, captivated. You looked radiant, surrounded by your family’s laughter and applause, your smile wide and uninhibited. In that moment, you were home—completely in your element—and he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

One of your sister noticed his expression and nudged him. “She’s beautiful, eh?”

Aaron didn’t even look away as he answered, his voice soft. “She’s incredible.”

When the song ended, you returned to his side, your cheeks flushed and your breath quick. “What ?” you asked when you saw the way he was looking at you.

He shook his head, his smile tender. “Nothing. Just… you.”

As the evening wound down, your mom pulled you aside while Aaron helped your siblings clean up. “He’s a good man,” she said simply, her tone carrying the weight of her approval.

“I know,” you said, smiling.

When it was time to leave, your mom handed Aaron a container of leftovers and patted his arm. “Come back soon my son,” she said. “I will, Mama !” he promised, his voice warm and sincere.

As the two of you drove away, the house fading in the rearview mirror, Aaron reached over to take your hand. “Your family is amazing,” he said softly.

“They really like you,” you replied, leaning into his shoulder.

“I’m glad,” he said, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Because I’m planning on being part of it.”

And in that moment, with the warmth of your family still lingering in the air, you knew he already was.

melo’s vocab !

mama, nazali na esengo mingi ya kokutana na bino — mom, I’m really happy to meet you

boye — like that

mama vraiment ? — mom really ?

Tala ye — look at him

Landà ngai — follow me

@ melosliving 2025

[creatingblackcharacters]

Hello, love the blog!

Do you or your followers know what kinds of clothing a middle-aged woman from Ivory Coast might wear, both traditional and modern? Thanks in advance for any help!

Modern: regular clothes, same as you and I 😅

As for traditional, I asked my friend, and outside of agreeing with me about modern, she also added this. From an Ivorienne herself:

"The pagne is used to make a lot of different clothing. It's pretty colorful and versatile but it's technically still traditional. So it wouldn't be unusual to see someone dressed like the woman in these pictures everyday. The man would most likely be dressed like that for an event or something though"

"And there's kente/kita clothing which was more originally used for traditional ceremonies or events buts its not unusual to have it be worn as everyday fashion now"

"Or the boubou that can also be both pretty traditional and very casual."

"Don't know prices nowadays, obviously, but it was fairly common for people around me to just go buy fabric at the market they liked and have it tailored. Obviously not your entire wardrobe or anything but having a few pieces tailored wouldn't break the bank"

[womblegrinch]

Jacques Majorelle (1886-1962) - Aïcha au pagne jaune

Oil on masonite. Painted in 1952.

32.6 x 34 inches, 82.8 x 86.5 cm. Estimate: €100,000-150,000.

Failed to sell Christie's, Paris, 10 April 2024.

Painted during Majorelle's trip to Côte d'Ivoire in 1952.

[taylortruther]

stum-ble-down-pre-tend-alley-ways-cheap-wine! make-be-lieve-it's-cham-pagne! i was. taken. by the. view! like we were in PARIS!

[primepaginequotidiani]

PRIMA PAGINA Il Giornale di Oggi martedì, 14 gennaio 2025

[kimludcom]

Beautiful Girls

[sammydigitaleu]

Consultez cette plateforme maintenant si vous souhaitez améliorer votre entreprise pour demain ! www.africadigital.eu

[echonk3]

999 Week 2024 - akane (three hours before)

So many sleepless nights—whether it be from Crashkeys or memories—has led to this.

You’ve spent hours hurrying around, making sure everything was perfect. That everything is how you saw it, that the items are in the correct places, that you had gotten the right people.

You watch Santa as he glares over at Ace, rage in his eyes like fire. The older man has changed a bit, with silver in his hair and an odd calmness. Seven, on the other hand, looks almost exactly as you remember. Lotus, now that you see her in person, makes you realize how many features she gave to the girl you met long ago.

The last time you saw Snake and Clover—the codename almost makes you laugh—they were in a situation like yours. A brother and sister willing to do anything for each other. You wonder what would’ve happened if they were put in this situation.

Junpei… There’s a pagne of guilt, but this is what is necessary. He’s the key to this. He’s the key to your survival. He’s the one that’s going to go through what you did. The trauma you went through. He deserves better than this, you think. You know this. But it’s him or you. You just have to trust him to make the right choices. There’s a teetering balance. On one side, it’s you and Santa, trying to influence him to make the right choices, and on the other, it’s him and the choices he sees best. You haven’t seen him in so long, you don’t know if he’ll get them or not. It’s whatever side wins out that determines things. The lives of all of you hang in that balance.

Your employees are working around you. You’re lucky for them, considering they agreed to one very illegal thing for a goal that nobody knows. But Ace did the same years ago too. He was right. Money is a powerful motivator. At least this time you aren’t planning to potentially kill a child. 

“You okay?” Santa asks. You’re staring at Junpei. 

“...Yeah,” you respond after an uncomfortable pause.

You don’t fully know how to feel.

[faster-market]

ROBE PAGNE POUR FEMME

goutez à la création contacter nous