#traditional xhosa dress | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

honeybeezgobzzzzz · 2 years ago

Text

𓃮 Even the Sun Influences the Tide: Chapter Eight

Even the Sun Influences the Tide: After the death of your foster brother, King T’Challa, you had spent much of your year of mourning in isolation. When your mother gathers you and your sister to end your mourning period, you encounter the newest threat to Wakanda: Namor. You don’t know what to think of Namor, but you do know one thing: he probably shouldn’t be making trips to see you at your beach hut.

Warnings: None.

To Note: Namor/K’uk’ulkan x Fem!Reader, I Tried To Make The Yucatec Maya & Xhosa Translations/Traditions As Accurate As I Can Get.

Word Count: ~2.4k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

K’uk’ulkan had kissed you deeply one last time, not being able to help himself after staying away from you for so long. You thought you were going to pass out from the heat burning beneath your cheeks at the intensity of his kiss… but no, you were just left in a daze. Then he guided you out of the tent, eager and looking forward to seeing you in the traditional wedding attire of his people. He had only ever seen you in the simple clothes you wore while living in your hut, and dressed in the clothing Namora had prepared for you? He had an almost impossible time taking his eyes off your beautiful form, let alone keeping his hands from wandering. K’uk’ulkan could only imagine what you would look like dressed in the traditional ceremonial garb. Calling for Namora, he spoke a few quick sentences in his native tongue, informing her of what he needed her to do for you. Namora was shocked to say the least, but she was pleased that you were making an effort to end the violence between your people. So with a promise to take good care of you, Namora bowed her head and guided you back the way you both had come.

You didn’t speak Yucatec Maya and didn’t have Griot with you, so you had no idea what had transpired between Namora and K’uk’ulkan. At the very least when you were brought to the room you had woken, you were surrounded by more blue skinned women, and not hardened soldiers. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? More rapid fire illusive words were exchanged, the faces of the women soon glowing with excitement and happiness. You felt more reassured by their reactions and your shoulders relaxed. Then two of the women approached you, taking your hands and tugging you in the direction of another hall. You glanced back at Namora with wide eyes, but she only nodded her head at you.

You trusted Namora, so you would trust these women.

The women had led you to a hot springs that bubbled and gurgled with steam and mist, inviting and making your body ache. You needed a moment to relax. You were going to get one because the women, Zyanya and Tlalli as they had told you, were carefully stripping you out of the dress you wore and motioning for you to step down into the warm water.

You had long since gotten used to bathing naked around other women, it was a common practice at the hot springs in Wakanda… but you couldn’t hold back your nerves this time. Not when you were such an outsider. You felt self conscious of your body, of your skin, of your being. Neither Zyanya nor Tlalli made any inclination at being judgmental over what they saw, busying themselves around you as you submerged yourself into the water. Wrapping your arms around your folded knees, you closed your eyes and took several deep and calming breaths.

You were alone, surrounded by the enemy of Wakanda, whose leader you had just shared a very intimate kiss with, and without a plan. You had also just agreed to a ceremony you knew nothing about.You might as well have sold your soul to the devil… but it if prevented needless death, you would take it. Yet you had thoughts of doubt, you were the ordinary one in the family. The black sheep whom T’Chaka and Ramonda had welcomed with open arms years ago. You didn’t know the first thing about how to make an alliance or be diplomatic, you never had the need to learn despite it being your choice of action. It wasn’t like you were ever going to be an influential figure from the royal family. At least you were smoothing things over with K’uk’ulkan, that was good. You were doing something right.

Hands gently stroked your hair and began to run scoops of water over the strands, soaking them and combing them. You were reminded of the times Ramonda had lovingly washed your hair for you when you were but a child, combing your hair neatly before braiding the strands in one of the many traditional styles of your new home. For a moment, you felt a flicker of homesickness. You had spent so much time trying to get away from your family to lesson your hurt, only to start wanting their company the moment you had the space you desperately craved. Were they even looking for you? Or were you simply assumed to be running from confronting the pain you had been stewing in for an entire year?

Those thoughts made your lip wobble and you harshly pressed them together to stop yourself from being consumed the sadness you had battled for so long. You were stronger than this, you had burned your funeral clothing. It was time to let go. Fingers began combing something that smelled nice, into your hair, lovingly tending to your hair and overall treating you with respect and reverence. Then Tlalli began massaging perfumed oils into your skin and you loosened up, letting her maneuver your limbs and treat every inch of your skin with devotion. You let them. It was probably part of a ritual, such as cleansing your body for the ceremony, or preparing your spirit in one way or another.

By the time your skin was buttery soft and a pearlescent sheen for being massaged and treated so delicately, your hair was fully washed and combed and you were being helped out of the hot springs. A beautiful stitched and embroidered robe was held open and you happily allowed them to cover your naked, damp skin with it, relishing the softness of the material. Led back to the cavern full of women, your jaw went slack.

While you had been bathing, they had been very busy. There was now a space where several women were fussing over white fabric, needles and silver thread in hand. A corner now had a table with several jars and brushes, squabbling women standing in front of it with scrolls of symbols… your eyes then caught a few boxes of jewelry, all a bright and vibrant jade that matched the ones K’uk’ulkan wore. Your hand was taken and you were led over to the jewelry.

You curiously looked around at the beautiful pieces, wondering how you were to wear some of them as they were obviously body piercing pieces. Then a women turned around and brandished a needle. Your eyes went wide and you gulped, panic washing through your body. Apparently you had unconsciously stepped backward, as you backed right into Namora. She gave you a soft smile and gestured for you to sit down. You wanted to whimper but held it back as you reluctantly sat down and nervously eyed the woman with the needle.

Less than a minute later, after one of the women had demonstrated that they could, in fact, pierce your body with little to no pain, you were allowing them to pierce the places they wished. The Talokanil had created a compound that numbed the surrounding flesh almost instantly, enabling for fast and painless piercing. Your ears were the first to be done, an industrial bar, much like Namora’s being placed along with an orbital, several helix and cartilage ones. You were fairly sure most of the argument the ladies ended up embroiled in, were about what jewelry would look best on you. You took comfort in the fact that they cared about placement.

Then they had wanted to pierce your septum. You had to resist screaming when the needle drew close to your face, but again, you felt no pain, and a beautiful vibranium ring had been placed. You had to admit that you liked the look in the mirror. The patterns in the metal reminded you of those you saw in the mayan murals and upon the fabrics around you. Shuri was going to like your new look, that you knew. Your mother? She was going to do a double take and possibly balk at your appearance. That wasn’t to say she would hate them, but she would probably want you to have piercings from Wakanda, not from the people who she was convinced were a threat to both you and her people. But what had you on edge the most, was when they moved to pierce your lip.

You panicked once more and Namora had come over, soothing you and reassuring you in the language you didn’t understand. You hated that you needed to hold her hand as they pierced your lip, adding a lip ring that divided your lower lip in half. When it was done, with no pain which you once again felt silly about, you were left staring into a handheld mirror in wonder. You looked like a completely other woman, with a tribal elegance. You looked different, more mature, regal, elegant in an ancestral way… but you felt that you now looked more like yourself than you ever had.

Someone took your hand, and you were tugged to your feet. Brought over to the women who had been arguing over markings on several scrolls, you were sat down once more, only this time, you were confronted with paint brushes. Your right foot was grabbed and held out, and then you watched with wide eyes as they started painting swirls of crimson on your body. You didn’t understand what the purpose of the symbols were, but you could figure out that they were probably a part of their culture, so you let them paint to their hearts content. Even when they tugged at your robe to get to your upper thighs, back, and stomach. They wouldn’t put so much time and effort into it if it wasn’t important.

You were perfectly fine with the paint, it just itched as it dried on your skin and you had to force yourself not to scratch the flesh where beautiful lines of red had been artistically drawn. Before they moved onto your back, your hair was once again brushed out before being braided back from your face. Once your hair was out of the way, the paintbrushes descended onto your back, and it tickled. You found yourself biting down on your lip, which only made you remember that you had a lip piercing now. Your mother was going to do a double take when she saw you, you were now certain. You also entertained the idea that she wouldn’t take kindly to you going off and doing some ceremony you didn’t know anything about, just for the sake of peace. But at the same time, hadn’t she lost enough family, enough people, already? Someone had to do something.

That happened to be you.

While you were staring off into space, wondering what your mother would think about what you were about to do, the Talokanil finished up their work and began fussing over the outfit you were to wear. It was a handmaid of course, embroidered with equally white thread to accentuate the red and green adorning your body. When it came time to dress you, you were herded behind a screen and the robe tugged from your body. Your cheeks blazed with fire while you cradled your arms to your painted chest. The moment you saw white fabric you were relieved to be dressed in something.

The white gossamer material was dropped over your head and blue fingers were quickly holding onto your arms while they tied the sleeves and the neckline of the fluttering fabric against your skin. While they were fussing over the ties and plucking at white fabric, you came to a realization: undo the ties resting off your shoulders, and the dress could very easily be pulled from your body… you weren’t going to have to do anything naked… were you? You might draw the line at that.

“Really should have thought this through,” You fretted to yourself. Desperation for peace had convinced you to jump the gun so to speak, but if this worked, you would have no regrets. So you let them fuss over you until they were happy and chittering in Yucatec Mayan. The screen was pushed to the side and you picked at the cuticles of your left hand.

“In reina,”(My queen) You took in a deep breath, realizing that you could no longer stall. You twisted on the ball of your foot to see Namora standing next two others holding a large mirror. Your reflection caught your breath. You recognized yourself, your reflection, but this was the first time you had felt like you were someone. Not necessarily someone important, but someone. You didn’t feel like you were going to fade into the background, forgotten like so many times before. Between your plentiful new piercings, the pure white gossamer of the off the shoulder dress, and the red markings upon your skin, you found yourself staring at your reflection with a faraway expression.

“Ki'ichpanech,”(You are beautiful) One of the women murmured, the others nodded. Your skin prickled from the chill in the air and you finally looked to Namora.

“K’uk’ulkan?” You asked softly, knowing that she would at least know what you were indicating with his name.

“Chukpaxten, In reina,” (Follow me) She responded with a nod. The women who had helped you made the hand gesture you were now associating with a sign of respect. You felt compelled to return the gesture and did so, carefully raising your hands and copying their actions. Bright smiles appeared not heir faces and you turned to follow Namora, grabbing the skirt of your dress so you didn’t trip. As you walked, you saw flashes of red from your legs, bright and vibrant compared to the white skirts you held away from them. You hoped that you didn’t get any of the paint on the dress. It’d look like a bloody mess.

The path that Namora followed led back to the cavern where K’uk’ulkan was working on murals, that you knew… but there was a change of scent in the air. As if someone had burned incense. It tickled your nose and you forced yourself not to sneeze. Upon entering the cavern with the murals, you stopped short, your eyes widening. The space was clouded with the smoke from what had to be incense. There was now what looked like an alter set up with several items placed on a table. Colored flowers were placed at four points, red, yellow, purple, and white.

“Mayor,” (Elder) Namora spoke, bowing to an older looking Talokanil who stood draped in traditional garb.

“What am I getting myself into,” You whispered as the eyes of elder Talokanil gazed upon you. This all looked very… official. Fear crept into your veins. Of course it did. This was a serious alliance you were negotiating/commencing, you had to respect their traditions. If you screwed this up, you felt like you were dooming your nation to certain war.

Date Published: 4/23/23

Last Edit: 4/2/23

Previous | Masterlist | Next

#namor x y/n #namor fanfiction #namor #namor of talokan #namor x reader #namor fic #k'ul'kulkan #marvel #black panther 2 #wakanda forever

116 notes · View notes

thatsmzbitchtoyou · 9 months ago

Text

"Emotional" Peter Parker fanfic

Here's another long one shot for y'all! (6132 words) Trying out Peter Parker this time. Reader is a mutant with powers. Hope you like it! *Slight smut... *"Usisi" means sister in Xhosa

Peter couldn’t stop staring. Shuri had invited him and the rest of what was left of the Avengers to Wakanda for a mental health retreat. After everything that had happened over the past decade she figured that during a time of relative world peace would be the best opportunity to get everyone together for some healing. Peter had seen a lot in his 25 years so far, but was not prepared for the seemingly death defying entrance into Wakanda, its advanced technology, the amazing mixture of traditional African style and futuristic design. He was enamored with the country. Yet even all of that had not prepared him for the sight of the woman before him.

“Welcome, Avengers, to Wakanda,” Shuri’s voice echoed as they entered the palace. “I have invited you all here for a retreat to focus on healing, whatever that may mean to you. Some of you have met her, but for those who have not, this is Y/N,” she announced as she gestured to the woman next to her.

Peter swore he’d never seen such a beautiful woman in his life. Y/N was dressed in what he assumed were traditional Wakandan robes that matched the color of raw Vibranium. She was decked in necklaces, bracelets, bangles and large earrings, all of different colors and metals that somehow still complimented her robes. She wore no shoes, and her hands that were crossed in front of her were covered in what looked like a blackout tattoo from her fingertips to an inch above her wrists. The black seemed to fade up her wrist, like she’d been sprayed with a matte black paint. Her long fingernails matched the black color. As she raised a hand in greeting to the Avengers and then swept a piece of hair out of her eyes, the deep black created a stark contrast to her long, intricately braided white hair that glittered a silver sheen in the light. Her Y/C eyes were piercing as she looked each newcomer over, analyzing them, as her lips were pulled into a small, reassuring smile. She was a burst of colors and contradictions and Peter couldn’t help but ogle. Bucky, who was standing next to him, nudged Peter with his elbow, causing Peter to cough awkwardly. Bucky snickered.

“Hello, everyone,” Y/N finally spoke. Peter found her voice to be his new favorite sound. “I look forward to getting to know each of you. As for those of you I’ve already met,” her eyes flickered over Bucky and Sam, “welcome home.”

Bucky and Sam took that as an invitation to approach her. They each had warm smiles as they took turns to give Y/N a long embrace and say their greetings quietly. Peter noticed how she had different greetings for each of them, small hand or arm touches that she would give them. A firm squeeze on Sam’s forearms and delicate scratch of Bucky’s beard. Peter was surprised when Bucky willingly leaned down and pressed his forehead and nose against hers. He had never seen Bucky get particularly close to anyone other than Sam, and he felt a flare of jealousy in his chest. He mentally chastised himself. Peter didn’t know Y/N, he didn’t have any kind of relationship or claim to her, and Bucky was older, handsome, and had some type of history with her. Peter hung his head in personal shame at himself, looking away from the intimate moment.

“Y/N is an empath, a mind reader, and can manipulate energies,” Shuri informed the group. “She was born a mutant, with the abilities to read and manipulate others’ thoughts and emotions and the energy around her in many forms.” Peter’s head snapped back up at that piece of information, his eyes bugging wide.

“She will be able to help you work through your thoughts, emotions, past experiences, mental and emotional blocks, and process trauma. She helped Sergeant Barnes considerably in his recovery from his experiences from Hydra. She is also an adopted member of my family, so I hope you will all be able to gain the help and healing you seek, and find a new home and family with us here.” Shuri spread her arms and gestured to the palace, then pointed to some members of the staff that were standing off to the side. “You will each have a member of the palace staff assigned to you to help you while you’re here. If you have any questions or requests please reach out to them. Your belongings have all been brought to your respective rooms already. Dinner will be served in one hour, so you can take some time to get settled and rest before then. And again, welcome home.”

Peter was greeted by a woman named Ayala who had him follow her down an adjoining hallway. He took a quick glance back at Y/N, who was already looking back at him. His cheeks grew hot as she flashed him a smile.

***

One hour later and all the Avengers and royal family were eating some of the most delicious food Peter had ever tasted. He was seated in between Shuri and Carol Danvers. He and Carol had become good friends over the last few years and had a teasing and sarcastic friendship. He hadn’t had a chance to really meet Shuri until now, and felt intellectually stimulated talking to her about her inventions, the properties and uses of vibranium, the Wakandan technology and science jargon that he hadn’t been able to talk about in a long time. He suddenly felt a twinge of pain as he realized the last time he’d felt like this was with Tony Stark and his friends that he lost from the spell Dr. Strange casted years before. He wound down the conversation with Shuri and focused on his food, which became less appetizing by the second. He took a large gulp of water from his cup to help with the thickness developing in his throat. It had been so long since he lost Tony, Ned, MJ, his aunt May, yet he couldn’t seem to move on with his life without them and that support system behind him.

He felt a hand softly rub his upper back. Peter looked up and behind his chair to find Y/N looking at him, her eyebrows tilted up in the middle in concern. She jerked her head to the side to signal him to follow her. Peter simply nodded at her and excused himself from the table. Once he was standing she took his hand in hers and led him out of the dining hall. Peter didn’t know what was happening, but he knew his hand was in hers and that they fit perfectly together. Y/N opened a door that he realized was across the hall from the room he was staying in. Was this her room? He was met with a brightly colored room covered in fairy lights in the shapes of stars, tons of exotic plants that doused the space in tropical scents, and almost every surface looked soft, covered in pillows and blankets and cushions. It looked like a Bohemian dream, and Peter felt calmer instantly.

Y/N led him to a small couch on the right side of the bedroom, motioning for him to sit down. Peter sat at one end of the couch thinking she would sit on the opposite end, but she knelt on the floor in front of him, poised between his legs. Peter was shocked and apprehensive, his cheeks flushing again at her close proximity. She surprised him again by taking his hands in hers, shifting closer and getting comfortable. She began massaging his hands, the movements of her black fingers mesmerizing.

“I try not to read others’ thoughts and emotions,” Y/N said quietly so as not to startle him. Peter’s eyes landed back on her face. She wasn’t looking at him but focusing on his hands. When he didn’t reply she continued. “It may be an ability of mine, but I also believe in privacy. I will always try to never read or manipulate your thoughts or emotions without your consent, Peter.”

Peter could have died on the spot from the way she said his name. Her comforting voice and actions were making him emotional.

“That being said,” she said, “I can block out people’s thoughts, but feelings and emotions are a lot…” she paused, searching for the right word. “Louder,” she decided, “and we humans tend to feel deeply. So sometimes I can’t ignore ‘loud’ feelings from people around me. And you,” she glanced at his face, her eyes twinkling, “wear your emotions on your sleeve.”

Peter could feel his eyes burning with unshed tears. He tensed slightly under her gaze, feeling embarrassed.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of,” she reassured him, her fingers slipping up to his wrists, rubbing slowly up his arms, relieving stress along the tensed muscles. “Feeling deeply, passionately, can be a strength. Many people I’ve worked with over the years, all you superheroes, feel the need to be strong.” Y/N moved her hands to his shoulders, massaging the tough knots littered there. Peter’s eyes almost rolled to the back of his head. When was the last time he’d been touched like this?

“Superheroes tend to want to numb themselves,” she continued. “Numbness means peace, means you won’t hurt others or means you can’t get hurt anymore. But it’s also a pretty miserable way to live,” she paused to watch his face again, making sure he was still with her. “Tony was like that.”

Peter’s head jerked up, his eyes widening at the mention of the name. His hands flew up to grip her wrists gently, stopping her movements and leaned himself closer to her. He searched her eyes for any sign of a lie.

“You knew Tony?” his voice came out as a whisper.

“Oh yeah,” Y/N nodded, a wide smile spreading across her face. Her hands twisted out of his grip so that she could hold his hands. “Steve called me after the Snap,” she explained. “He lost Bucky, again, and he came to me for help. He could tell that Tony needed help processing what happened. We all did.” Her voice grew quiet. “Tony internalized a lot, didn’t want his emotional baggage to be a burden to others, joked about his trauma, and at first shrunk into himself. He kept himself busy so as not to think about it. But Pepper was pregnant,” she smiled, “and he knew he had to be better for her, for the baby…for Morgan.”

Peter felt like he was grasping Y/N’s hands too hard as he grounded himself. He needed to hear this.

“I worked with him weekly for the first 2 years of the Blip, then monthly, then I’d just come by when he called. He made a lot of progress. He was just like you. Felt deeply, emotions on his sleeve, passionate to a fault,” she paused and focused on his hands, her thumbs began softly rubbing his knuckles.

“You were the reason, you know?” she said quietly. Peter focused on her eyes. She was blinking back tears. “Tony figured out time travel, worked with the Avengers again, risked everything he had worked so hard for, just for the chance to bring everyone back…to bring you back,” her voice wavered. Y/N gazed up at him, her tears finally falling.

Peter felt like the air had been knocked out of him. He had known that Tony cared for him, might have loved him in a son-he-never-had-way, but he assumed that reversing the Snap had been because it was the right thing to do, normal Ironman saving the world, or universe, type of thing. He couldn’t figure out whether to feel extremely privileged or guilty. It was his fault, Tony died because of him…oh God, oh God…

Y/N could see him spiraling and let go of his hands to cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at her.

“Don’t feel like that,” she said firmly, her eyes burning into his. “Don’t you dare, Peter. Tony did what he did for you, for me, for all of us. He did it because it was the right thing. He did it because he knew he could never rest until he at least tried to bring everyone back. Tony did what he had to do because he loved you!” she gently shook his face in her hands as if to rattle his brain into understanding.

Peter silently cried, the tears spilling and he sniffed quickly. Y/N sighed, then moved her right hand from his cheek down to his chest. He didn’t dare move, unsure of what he was doing. She placed her hand on his chest over his heart. “I’ll show you,” she said resolutely.

Peter’s brow furrowed in confusion, then saw a bright white light starting to glow from her palm over his heart. His eyes widened and he gasped, but then he felt something start to seep into his skin where her hand lay. It felt like honey dripping down and through his skin, his muscles, deep into his veins, its warmth enveloping him whole. The feeling seeped up his head and he could feel it tickling his brain, firing neurotransmitters all at once, muddling his thoughts so all he could focus on was this feeling. He felt warm, encompassed by light, like all his worries melted away as it oozed through him. It felt like love. Peter’s heart was beaming, and he could feel the tears flowing heavily as he smiled. He was instantly addicted to this feeling, to this reassurance that the love he felt for that father figure in his life truly loved him back. Tony may not have been the best at saying it, but Peter now knew that all the things he’d done were Tony’s way of showing his love.

After a few moments the oozing feeling began to recede slowly. Peter couldn’t seem to stop crying, a small laugh escaping his lips. He realized that his hand had reached up to cover Y/N’s hand placed over his heart. He focused on Y/N, who was now crying.

“He loved you, Peter,” she whispered, her lips quivering. “He loved you so much.”

Peter didn’t know what came over him, but in a rush of adrenaline from overwhelming happiness and relief, he wrapped his arms around Y/N in a hug. She didn’t hesitate in hugging him back. It seemed like she needed that hug as much as he did. For the first time in a long time, Peter felt peace.

***

After that first night in Wakanda, Peter found himself seeking out Y/N constantly. She had explained that the form of therapy she focused on with each person was based on the idea of their love language and had Peter take the quiz online as well as interview him about his life. Unsurprisingly, Peter’s main love language was physical touch. Y/N told him how people who tended to be touch-starved would often have their main love language turn out to be physical touch. Like with Bucky, how he had been through torture, fighting constantly for decades, so when he was finally shown a kind, gentle, loving hand, he thrived. Which explained her little signs and greetings she used with him. It grounded him and reminded him of the good. “Everyone deserves happiness, affection and love in this life,” she had reminded him.

Y/N and Peter then decided on a signal for when Peter needed some grounding or a reminder that he was loved. He would tap the spot over his heart 3 times, and she would give him a small dose of that emotion of love from Tony as she laid her hand on his chest. Peter didn’t do it all the time, but frequently enough that it was done between them out of habit.

Y/N scheduled specific times with each of the Avengers for therapy, and since she was a very intimate person, she held hands, cuddled, hugged, and gave kisses on the cheek to those comfortable with it. She was extra close to Bucky, and Peter found himself feeling the jealousy creeping further into his mind as the weeks passed.

He knew that the two were friends, but with how much she intimately cared for Bucky filled Peter with paranoia. He was suspicious and resentful towards Bucky. What was worse was that Bucky could tell how Peter was feeling, as he smirked every time he caught Peter glaring or sulking in the corner as Y/N spent time with Bucky or would hug Bucky or Bucky Bucky Bucky!

It all became too much one morning when he saw Y/N walk out of Bucky’s room, her hair ruffled and clothes wrinkled, yawning and stretching as Bucky came out right behind her, looking well-rested and smiling. Peter swore under his breath and stomped into the kitchen. Unfortunately they followed him moments later.

“Good morning, Peter,” Y/N asked groggily. “Are you okay?”

“Fantastic,” Peter spat.

Y/N looked taken aback. Peter never spoke harshly towards her. Bucky let out a small snort and went to the fridge for some breakfast. Y/N watched Peter as he turned away to the pantry for cereal.

“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly, slowly approaching him.

“Nothing,” he sighed, keeping away from her as he walked around the kitchen, grabbing a bowl and spoon.

“Well obviously something is wrong,” Y/N scoffed and followed him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Just spit it out, man,” Bucky yawned. “She’ll get it out of you one way or another.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter snapped, whipping to face Bucky.

“I said what I said,” Bucky sassed back.

“Hey, enough!” Y/N slapped her hand on the counter. “Peter, what is going on? Tell me now. I don’t want to read you but I will if I need to.”

When Peter refused to answer and glared at the floor, Bucky scoffed loudly. “He’s jealous.”

Y/N’s head swiveled between the two of them. “Jealous of what?”

“You and me,” Bucky said nonchalantly, taking a sip of his orange juice.

“Me and you for what?” she exasperatedly asked.

“Oh please!” Peter finally yelled. “What do you mean ‘for what’? What are you doing coming out of Bucky’s room in the morning looking like that?” he waved towards her.

Y/N furrowed her brow, looking down at herself in confusion.

“Is this how you help us? ‘Heal’ us?” he air-quoted. “Or I guess just some of us,” Peter gestured towards Bucky.

“Choose your words carefully, bud,” Bucky warned.

“Wait,” Y/N waved her hands. “Are you trying to say…do you think I’ve been sleeping with Buck?”

“What else would it be?!” Peter knew he looked and sounded crazy, but the little green monster of jealousy was loose, and he was failing at wrangling it back in. “I can understand you two being close, that you’ve known each other a long time, you’ve helped him through a lot, but this? What kind of therapy is this?”

“Peter–”

“Is that how you make him feel better? Make him forget his nightmares?”

“Pete–”

“Take the pain away with some sexual healing?!”

*SLAP*

Peter jerked back, holding his cheek as his face stung. He looked up at Y/N with wide eyes. She was glaring at him, her hand shaking at her side in anger. Bucky’s mouth hung open, eyes darting between them. Y/N straightened her stance, closed her eyes and balled her blackened hands into fists.

“Buck,” she breathed. Bucky quickly retreated back to his room with his food, shutting the door loud enough for them to hear.

Peter was stunned and fearful. He’d never seen this side of Y/N, and shame overcame him as he knew he’d brought this out of her. She unballed her fists and crossed her arms over her chest, slowly opening her eyes to look at him. Her eyes were filled with a simmering anger that he could have sworn he could see it burning in her irises.

“Listen good, Parker, because I’m only going to say this once,” Y/N spoke lowly, scaring Peter further while breaking his heart that she used his last name rather than his first. “I am not a traditional therapist. I am not licensed, therefore I am not bound by a code of ethics or client-therapist privilege. I use my abilities to help people, and at times I’ll use techniques and practices that I’ve studied to see what works best for each person,” she paused and looked away. “What worked for me,” she murmured. Peter had the urge to reach out to her, but her eyes quickly came back to him with that fire.

“I treat each person as I see fit, within the boundaries they set. For Sam, all he needs is a listening ear and a hug. For Tony, I had to sit back and let him morbidly joke and tease and sarcastically rant through all his trauma. And as for Bucky,” Y/N’s voice was raising, her arms falling to her sides as she stepped closer to Peter, “Bucky has been through literal hell and back, multiple times, for decades. He was left on ice then used as a human war machine, his mind erased, his body battered, abused, and experimented on. He had not felt a kind hand or been given a loving word for over 70 years!” Y/N was now yelling, her hand slapping the kitchen counter again. Peter backed up into the wall behind him as she took another step towards him.

“So forgive me, Parker, for helping him get through the nightmares that he still suffers with regularly, even if it means cuddling and sleeping in his bed so that he doesn’t hurt himself. Forgive me for using intimacy and physical touch as his love language to ground him and make him feel safe, wanted, and loved!”

Y/N was now toe-to-toe with Peter, looking up at him with a conviction and fury that had him withering. Her emotions must have been getting the best of her because he could feel that oozing feeling flowing in his body, but instead of the comforting balm he’d grown accustomed to now it felt like a parasite licking its way through every vein. He shuddered at the feeling, then grunted as she poked his chest hard with her blackened finger.

“And even if I had sex with Bucky, or anyone I’ve ever helped before, it would be none,” *poke*, “of your,” *poke*, “fucking,” *poke*, “business.” Y/N stared him down as his eyes welled up with tears and another oozing feeling overcame the anger. It was hurt. He had hurt her, and Peter would never forgive himself.

Y/N’s eyes softened and she dropped her finger from his chest, stepping away from him. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and as she composed herself Peter felt the ooze fade, leaving him emotionally drained. She flexed her fingers and rolled her shoulders, and when she opened her eyes they were shining with unshed tears. Peter sniffled at the sight.

“You don’t own me, Peter,” she cried, her voice cracking. “I am my own. I belong to no one but myself. You have no claim to me. So stop feeling jealous over something, someone, that you have no right to be jealous of,” she sniffed, her lips drawing into a hard thin line. Peter silently cried, hating himself for making her cry.

“I…I’m sorry,” he whispered, not knowing what else to say at the moment. Y/N just gave him a long look, then finally nodded her head and walked quickly out of the kitchen. Peter slumped to the floor, dropping his head into his hands. How could he be so stupid?

***

The next two weeks were awkward, and it was hell. Everyone knew that something had happened, they just weren’t sure what. Y/N still held appointments with everyone else, and would greet everyone throughout the day, but she was much more quiet and reserved. She gave polite smiles and exchanged quiet conversation, but was not her normal, bubbly, outgoing self. She touched everyone, except for Peter.

Peter wasn’t fairing well. Bucky had chewed him out shortly after Y/N left him a heap on the kitchen floor. He took the verbal beating, knowing he deserved it. At that point nothing could hurt him as bad as him offending Y/N. He kept his head hung low whenever they were in the same room, and although it made him feel sick to his stomach, he knew he didn’t deserve her touch and the calming effect she used to give him. He tried to go to her room once, to talk, apologize again, but couldn't muster up the courage to knock on the door.

The rest of the Avengers could sense the tension, and after a third week of silence between the two, Shuri had enough.

“Usisi,” she called as she knocked on her door. Y/N shuffled to the door and opened it wide, not meeting Shuri’s gaze, her eyes rimmed red and a sad sniffle coming from her. Shuri stepped in and enveloped her in her arms. Y/N buried her face into Shuri’s neck, her arms wrapping tightly around her waist.

“There, there,” Shuri consoled her. “Come now, why are you letting the jealous words of a man affect you?”

“I just…” Y/N sighed, pulling away and wiping her eyes. “It just felt like he was different, somehow,” she huffed out.

Shuri nodded and led her to the couch in her room. Y/N plopped down on it dramatically, shoving her face in a pillow. Shuri chuckled at her antics.

“Your abilities cause you to feel things on a heightened level, usisi,” Shuri began. Y/N pulled herself up and turned to face her on the couch. “You know how others feel before they can identify those feelings for themselves. But you have had difficulty knowing your own feelings at times, which is normal. You do not give yourself grace in your moments of humanity. And although Parker did not have justifiable emotions or words that day, he is remorseful,” Shuri took her hand, rubbing Y/N’s knuckles softly.

“I know,” Y/N whispered, not trusting her voice. She squeezed her hand back. “I’ve grown extremely…attached to him, and it scares me. It just feels like everyone I ever love,” she shuddered another breath, swallowing past the lump in her throat, “they leave. Either on their own or they die on me,” she huffed a laugh at her morbid joke. Shuri wiped away the tears Y/N wasn’t aware had fallen, nodding in understanding. They had both lost a lot recently.

“I love you, and I’m still here,” Shuri said. “Our people love you as their own, the Avengers love you, and not just because you help them. And all those we have lost through death are not ever really gone, you know that. As for any who have left you willingly, their absence is only a shadow compared to all the love you have in your life. Peter loves you, most likely in a much more romantic way. You always tell others that they deserve love and happiness in their lives. Even if it’s scary, don’t you deserve to have those things, too?”

Y/N sighed as Shuri finished speaking. She wasn’t sure if she deserved it, but she sure as hell wanted love and happiness. Life was too hard already, too short but also so long, for her to deny herself some of its greatest beauties.

“Don’t let fear cloud your decisions, Y/N. Be brave and accept the love you deserve. What is the saying in that song you love?” Shuri paused, and brightened when she remembered. “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.”

***

Peter sat on the floor, his back leaning against the bed. He had just tumbled out of bed from a nightmare, taking off his t-shirt that was stuck to his sweaty chest. He tried to breathe deeply and focus on the things around the room like the color on the walls, the pattern on the bed sheet, counting items and the sound of the soft warm breeze coming through the open window. The nightmares had come back full force this last week, and the only person he wanted to seek comfort from was ignoring him right now.

He dropped his head into his hands, trying to mentally silence the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears. Breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, his face hot with tears he quietly cried, he didn’t hear his door open or the padding of feet slowly approach him. Peter jerked when a hand touched his elbow, and his eyes widened to see Y/N crouched in front of him. Her usually styled and braided hair was loose and she was wearing an open robe over a tank top dress that reached mid-thigh. He had never seen her so relaxed. Her hand slowly moved from his elbow to his hand, interlacing her fingers with his. She maneuvered herself so that she was straddling his lap while her other hand began sweeping through his sweaty curls.

Her tenderness caused another flood of emotion to wrack through Peter’s body and he cried harder. He released his hand from hers and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tightly against him, his face buried into her chest. Y/N shushed him as he wept, letting him cry it out, her hands massaging along his shoulders and neck and petting his hair. For a while they sat there, holding each other, until Peter’s cries quieted. Y/N’s eyes flew open as she felt Peter move his head to nuzzle her chest and place a wet kiss over her heart.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, his hands rubbing up and down her back. “What I said was stupid and inappropriate and I’m just so, so very sorry,” he whimpered and Y/N pulled away. He quickly gripped her hips, afraid she would leave, but she gently cupped his face in her hands. She wiped away his tears with her thumbs and shushed him again. She felt his conflicting emotions and decided to take pity.

Y/N slid her hand from his face to his chest. She tapped the spot over his heart three times then pressed her hand flat. The honey-like feeling bloomed in his chest and he visibly slumped against her chest. She let him revel in it for a long while, her other hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. She felt a few more hot tears fall on her breast, but also a smile form on his lips near her cleavage. Y/N smiled and slowly pulled her hand away, bringing it back up to his face and pulling him back up to look at her.

“Peter,” she breathed. He gasped lightly at hearing his name on her lips for the first time in weeks. “I forgive you,” she said simply. Peter’s hands tightened on her hips again. She softly swept her thumbs across his cheeks, her smile widening. “You’ve got to work on your jealousy, though,” she added, a small giggle slipping out. Peter huffed a laugh, his head dipping as Y/N’s laugh deepened.

“I know, I know,” he muttered. He wrapped his arms around her middle again and squeezed as he settled his face in the crook of her neck. “But we’re good, right?” he hesitantly asked, nuzzling her collar bone. Y/N scoffed at him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders again.

“Yes, we’re good,” she answered. She could feel him smile against her neck. They held each other, thankful that the bump in their friendship was overcome.

Peter decided not to waste any more time. Be brave, you idiot, he thought. He nuzzled her neck again, his nose sliding against her jugular, then softly pressed a kiss just below her jaw. Y/N stiffened against him. He was afraid of her reaction but she didn’t pull away or question him, so he continued to kiss her, rubbing his hands softly up her back. As he sucked on the spot below her ear she sighed and shivered.

“Peter,” she moaned, her nails starting to dig into his back. He let out his own moan at hearing her say his name like that. He wanted to hear it again and began to nibble at her earlobe, making her gasp.

“Peter…wait, ungh,” Y/N was struggling to make a coherent thought. She hadn’t done this in a long time. Peter stopped but kept himself close.

“Do you want me to stop?” his husky whisper tickled her ear. She let out a sharp breath.

“No,” she whispered back, her hand slipping up into his hair, pulling back gently for him to look at her. They breathed heavily, staring at each other for a moment.

“What do you want?” Y/N asked, searching his eyes. Peter gave her a half smile.

“I want you,” he answered determinedly. His voice dropped an octave so fast he almost scared himself, but it made Y/N whimper at his tone, and Peter dove in for a kiss to chase the sound.

Y/N kissed him back fervently. The kiss felt frenzied, as the dam of pent-up sexual tension finally broke. It was all tongue and teeth, lips smashed together, breaths intertwining, hands gripping and squeezing. Peter couldn’t believe this was happening. His hands traveled down until he could cup her butt cheeks, kneading them roughly, squeezing the soft, plushy muscle and pulling her core to his. She whimpered again, slowly grinding herself into his growing erection. He moaned loudly as she did, gripping her love handles so hard she knew she’d be bruised in the morning.

Y/N was so distracted by his lips she didn’t realize Peter had lifted them both off the floor until her back was gently pressed on the bed. She took the opportunity as they slightly separated to kiss, lick, and suck a trail down his cheek to his neck. Peter shivered as she nipped just under his jaw, his hands running from her legs to her stomach, pulling at her dress, silently asking permission to pull it up and off of her. She lifted her hips off of the bed so he could start pulling it up. After an awkward shifting and wiggling and some giggles, Peter finally got all her clothes off.

Peter ogled at Y/N, completely naked and waiting. She giggled again at the look on his face, letting her fingers scratch down his chest, making him sputter.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Peter shook, not sure what to do next and needing her to keep scratching him.

“Yes?” Y/N asked coyly, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“Can I…will you be mine?” Peter settled on that. His finger brushed along her ribcage mere inches from her breast. Y/N shivered at the contact. He was treating her with such tenderness and reverence that it made her skin tingle.

“Yes,” she said definitively.

Peter’s face lit up, his cheeks hurting with how wide his smile grew. As he lowered himself over her he felt his cock throb and his face grew serious. He shut his eyes and sighed out loud.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked, confused at his rollercoaster of emotions.

“It’s just, if we do this, start this relationship, I won’t be able to let you go,” Peter said gruffly. “So are you sure? Are you mine?”

Y/N felt a flood of emotion coming from him in that question. It was a loaded question, they both knew it. She had known for a while now that Peter liked her and wanted her, and despite the hiccup in their relationship, she felt the same towards him. They had both lost so much, so promising this was a big deal, to not just love but to stay. This was special, she was special to him. He was asking her to go all in, for as long as she would have him.

Y/N’s eyes brimmed with tears from how emotional it became so quickly. Peter panicked at the sight but she quickly calmed him, running her finger along the crease between his eyebrows to relieve him.

“Yes,” she whispered, pulling his body flush with hers. As his naked chest met her breasts he groaned, his head falling to her shoulder.

“Thank God,” he breathed.

#marvel #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #smut #oneshot

35 notes · View notes

simply-saffa · 3 months ago

Link

2 notes · View notes

aworldofpattern · 2 years ago

Text

King Letsie III and Queen Masenate of Lesotho at the Coronation of King Charles III

Queen Masenate is wearing a gown whose colour and print is reminiscent of shweshwe, a printed dyed cotton fabric, often using indigo blue, widely used for both traditional and fashionable dress in Lesotho and South Africa.

'The local name shweshwe is derived from the fabric's association with Lesotho's King Moshoeshoe I, also spelled "Moshweshwe". Moshoeshoe I was gifted with the fabric by French missionaries in the 1840s and subsequently popularised it.

It is also known as sejeremane or seshoeshoe in Sotho as well as terantala (derived from Afrikaans tarentaal), and ujamani in Xhosa, after 19th century German and Swiss settlers who imported the blaudruck ("blue print") fabric for their clothing and helped entrench it in South African and Basotho culture.' X

26 notes · View notes

iinkonde · 2 years ago

Text

UMBHACO

What is Umbhaco • Umbhaco is a material used in South African traditional clothing for dresses in formal and informal ceremonies. It is extremely durable cotton that’s made to last. Umbacho can be used for traditional dress, but can also be applied in modern fashion. It is usually black and white.

Part of the rich tradition of umbhaco is the incorporation of beadwork into garments and this has been a major form of aesthetic expression for nearly 200 years. Some beadwork and clothing, such as the long dress, beaded bags, and lacy looking collars worn by some Xhosa speaking people were influenced by white settlers. It was the artists(designers) themselves however, who invented most conventional designs, patterns and techniques used in beadwork. Traditional Xhosa dress is still valued and worn as a sign of respect to the ancestors.

#iinkonde #Umbhaco #Sedilaka #xhosa people

10 notes · View notes

samnko · 6 months ago

Text

I WANT TO WRITE. I WANT TO READ. I WANT TO DRAW. I WANT TO WATCH ANIME. I WANT TO RESEARCH PAST WARS. I WANT TO RENOVATE MY BATHROOM. I WANT TO SIT IN THE GRASS. I WANT TO ENJOY THE SUNLIGHT. I WANT TO SEW SHORTS FROM OLD TSHIRTS. I WANT TO BUILD AN OUTDOORSY ENCLOSURE FOR MY CAT. I WANT TO WASH MY WINDOWS. I WANT TO SCRUB THE FLOORS ON MY HANDS & KNEES. I WANT TO GO ON A LONG HIKE & GET SUNBURNT. I WANT TO PASS MY DRIVERS TEST. I WANT TO WRITE A BOOK. I WANT TO GO CLUBBING. I WANT TO JOIN A CLUB. I WANT TO PLAY WEIRD OLD PEOPLE SPORTS. I WANT TO DRINK TEA THAT'S PROBABLY TOO SWEET. I WANT TO PAINT MY BEDROOM DOOR. I WANT TO MAKE A CUTE DRESS FROM OLD SHEETS. I WANT TO BIND SKETCHBOOKS TO FILL WITH STUPID ART. I WANT TO TAKE PHOTOS OF EVERYTHING. I WANT TO PRINT OUT HUGE POSTERS & COVERS MY WALLS WITH THEM. I WANT A HOME WITH HIGH CEILINGS & BIG WINDOWS & A BIG YARD. I WANT TO GO ON LONG MORNING WALKS WITH MY DOG & WATCH THE SUNRISE. I WANT TO DYE MY HAIR. I WANT TO FILL MY BODY WITH ART. I WANT TO LEARN JAPANESE. I WANT TO FILL UP MY JOURNALS WITH ALL THE SILLY THINGS I'VE DONE. I WANT TO LEARN THE TRADITIONS OF OTHER CULTURES. I WANT TO BAKE A CAKE & EAT THE LEFTOVER ICING WITH A SMALL SPOON. I WANT TO MAKE CUTE HATS FOR MY CAT. I WANT TO MAKE CLAY EARRINGS. I WANT TO LEARN HOW TO SHOOT A GUN. I WANT TO ADD COLOURFUL EMBROIRDERY TO SOME COWBOY BOOTS. I WANT TO LEARN XHOSA. I WANT TO KNIT A HUGE BLANKET. I WANT TO SHAVE ALL MY HAIR OFF & TATTOO A POEM ON THE BAC ON MY HEAD TO HAVE IT FOREVER HIDDEN ONCE MY HAIR GROWS BACK. I WANT TO LEARN HOW TO PAINT WITH OIL PAINTS. I WANT TO DRAW MURALS WITH CHALK ON THE SIDEWALK & HAVE ONLY A SELECT FEW PEOPLE SEE IT BEFORE IT EVENTUALLY FADES AWAY. I WANT TO SCREAM AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS AT A HIGH CLIFF. I WANT TO LEARN HOW TO MAKE CLAY TEACUPS & BOWLS. I WANT TO MEET SOME OLD PERSON WHO WILL SHARE SOME OF THEIR VAST KNOWLEDGE OF AN OBSCURE TOPIC WITH ME. I WANT TO LEARN NEW RECIPES. I WANT TO GO TO A RAGE ROOM & BREAK EVERYTHING. I WANT TO GO HUNTING & LEARN HOW TO MAKE USE OF EVERY SINGLE PART OF THE ANIMAL AS TO NOT WASTE ANY PART OF THE ONCE LIVING BEING. I WANT TO GROW CORN FIELDS & GET LOST IN IT AT NIGHT IN SEARCH OF SOME CRYPTID.

I DON'T WANT A STUPID FUCKING JOB.

#i'm just a bit emotional today #.mine #writing #rant

0 notes

bestshirtcanbuy · 8 months ago

Text

South Africa Knitting Pattern Ugly Sweater

South Africa Knitting Pattern Ugly Sweater: The Perfect Gift for Everyone When it comes to finding the perfect gift, South Africa knitting pattern ugly sweaters for men and women are a delightful choice. With a unique blend of traditional African designs and cozy comfort, these sweaters offer a truly special and thoughtful present for any occasion. South Africa is a country known for its rich cultural heritage and vibrant arts and crafts scene. The knitting patterns used for these ugly sweaters showcase the country's diverse tapestry of traditions, including Zulu, Xhosa, and Ndebele motifs, among others. These patterns incorporate vibrant colors, geometric shapes, and intricate detailing that adds a touch of African authenticity to the sweaters. What makes these ugly sweaters even more appealing is their versatility. Whether it's a birthday, anniversary, or holiday gift, these sweaters are suitable for both men and women. They come in a range of sizes and styles, ensuring a perfect fit for anyone on your gifting list. For men, South Africa knitting pattern ugly sweaters offer a stylish way to embrace their African roots while staying warm during the winter months. The bold patterns and colors make a statement, turning an ordinary outfit into a fabulous one. Whether paired with jeans or dressed up for a special occasion, these sweaters are guaranteed to catch attention and spark conversations. Similarly, women can also enjoy the unique charm of South Africa knitting pattern ugly sweaters. The intricate details and vibrant colors can turn a simple outfit into a fashion-forward ensemble. They can be paired with skirts, jeans, or leggings, allowing for endless possibilities of creating a personalized and trendy look. Moreover, these sweaters are not just a fashion statement but also a symbol of cultural appreciation. By wearing them, one can proudly display their admiration for South Africa's artistic heritage and contribute to supporting local artisans and crafters who create these beautiful garments by hand. In addition to being a thoughtful gift for individuals, South Africa knitting pattern ugly sweaters are also great for group gifting. They make for fantastic matching outfits for family photoshoots, holiday parties, or even as team uniforms for sports events. The vibrant colors and unique patterns will surely help create memorable moments and foster a sense of unity and togetherness. Whether you're searching for a gift for a loved one or looking to treat yourself to something special, South Africa knitting pattern ugly sweaters are a perfect choice. They embody the spirit of African artistry, warmth, and comfort, making them a delightful addition to anyone's wardrobe. So, why not celebrate the beauty of South Africa's craft traditions and surprise someone with a truly unique and meaningful gift they will cherish for years to come?

Get it here : South Africa Knitting Pattern Ugly Sweater

Home Page : tshirtslowprice.com

Related : https://bestshirtcanbuy.tumblr.com/post/719995471049932800/sport-personalized-hockey-ice-player-crocs-classic

#UglyChristmasSweater

1 note · View note

stylecoza · 2 months ago

Text

23 New Isishweshwe Designs 2024 - African Elegance

Isishweshwe, a vibrant and intricately patterned fabric, has long been a cultural icon in South Africa. Its bold colors and intricate designs have captivated fashion and cultural heritage enthusiasts alike. In 2024, Isishweshwe continues to evolve, embracing contemporary trends while remaining true to its roots. This article delves into the fascinating world of Isishweshwe designs, exploring the…

#African Wear Styles #Shweshwe Fashion #Xhosa Dresses #Xhosa Traditional Attires

0 notes

manahegy · 10 months ago

Text

35 Best South African Traditional Wedding Dress Ideas 2024

Explore the rich tapestry of South African traditional wedding dress ideas, where artistic variety weaves a vibrant narrative into wedding celebrations. From the bold and colorful Zulu “isiNene” adorning brides with intricate beadwork to the Xhosa elegance of the “Umakoti,” a two-piece ensemble radiating patterns and hues, each dress narrates a unique cultural story. Sotho brides don the iconic…

View On WordPress

#sepedi traditional wedding dresses #Tsonga Traditional Dresses #Tswana traditional dresses #Xhosa Traditional Wedding Dresses

0 notes

honeybeezgobzzzzz · 1 year ago

Text

𓃮 Even the Sun Influences the Tide: Chapter Eighteen

Warnings: Mentions of What Happened in Previous Chapter.

To Note: Namor/K’uk’ulkan x Fem!Reader, I Tried To Make The Yucatec Maya & Xhosa Translations/Traditions As Accurate As I Can Get.

Word Count: ~2.0k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

You couldn’t feel much of anything. Not your legs. Not your arms. Not your fingers. You couldn’t even feel the blistering pain scorching across your chest. Stealing your ability to breathe from your chest. It had felt like you didn’t even have lungs to breathe with. Nothing in your life had scared you more than feeling like you hadn’t been able to breathe. That wasn’t far from the truth. It was hard for the human body to function with less than a third of healthy lung tissue left to perform its vital task.

But you felt completely fine now. No agonizing sharp pain in your chest. No struggling organ in your chest, straining to do its job. No warm and sticky bloody flooding down your chest, staining the delicately stitched and beaded dress you had changed into. Then again, you couldn’t anything, you just felt like you were floating through space.

You didn’t feel like you were breathing, or that you had to, and yet your body wasn’t screaming at you to take a breath. You didn’t care. You were just happy to no longer feel that mind numbing, breath stealing pain that left your entire body violently trembling. Attempting to inhale through your nose out of habit, you felt like something was smothering your face. Hands coming up to your face, you clawed at your face until your fingers were peeling what covered your nose and mouth from your skin. Instantly you felt better and let out a sigh. Bubbles emerged from your lips and tickled your face as they rose.

Face twisting in confusion, you raised your hand to feel your face. Your limb moved a little sluggishly, hindered by something other than air. Eyelids fluttering, you opened them to try and get your bearings. What you saw was confusing to say the least.

It was instantly clear where you were… but you didn’t understand why. Somehow, you were back in Shuri’s lab floating around in her suspension tank full of the healing enhancing liquid Shuri invented a while ago. You were fairly sure it was for the Dora Milaje to recover from grueling training… but why were you floating around in it? The liquid was used for deep tissue healing, not for— your head jerked down to your abdomen where you had last seen a piece of the talon fight sticking out of you. Now there was only naked unblemished skin. Another wave of bubbles erupted from your mouth. What was going on!? How long had you been out of commission?

Another thought hit you, if you were floating around in the tank… how were you breathing? You pressed both hands against your mouth and blinked rapidly. What did Shuri do!? Panic was rushing through your veins, but even as your heart raced you didn’t once feel like you were suffocating. Oh your little sister had done something to you, most likely in desperation, but you questioned the repercussions of her actions. Trying to calm yourself down, your eyes peered through the murky liquid, searching for the glass containing it and you. Your searching hand brushed against glass, and you shifted your floating body closer.

Your hair floated around you as you looked out at the what you could see in Shuri’s lab. Several assistants were milling around the lab, working furiously on something, while Shuri stood in front of— was that Attuma!? Why was he here and why were they both in the same room, so close, and not trying to kill each other!? You started tapping your hand on the glass, trying to get someone’s attention. It didn’t take long for someone to notice your tapping, and Shuri was soon rushing over to you with Attuma on her heels.

“Y/N!” She gasped out, eyes zeroing in on the fact that you no longer had a respirator on. “Quick, open the hatch before she runs out of oxygen!” You blinked in confusion at how clearly you could hear your sister when you were floating in suspension. Surely your natural hearing wasn’t that good. Above you the hatch to the tank was opened and hands were reaching for you. You kicked off the bottom and reached up, letting them take your hands and pull you from the tank. You were sat on the edge of the tank with a lab coat draped around your naked body, analysis devices thrust in your face. You batted them away.

“Stop that,” You snapped out, waving off the instruments and trying to get your bearings. Your eyes searched for Shuri’s. “Shuri what the hell is going on!?”

“What the hell is going on!?” Shuri repeated in exasperation, throwing her arms around your neck and nearly strangling you with a hug. “You almost died!” Shuri had tears in her eyes as she grasped your body. “Do you have any idea how close to meeting the ancestors you came!?”

“What did you do to me, Shuri?” You questioned, searching her eyes. “Tell me the truth.” Shuri hesitated, not wanting to tell you that she might have permanently altered your life, your DNA, just so that you might live.

“We were loosing you too fast, Y/N, even with our technology.” She spoke, chewing on her lip. “So I— I looked into the heart shaped herb, and spliced it with the blue herb from Talokan. It saved them from death and I hoped it would do the same for you.”

“Shuri, lungs don’t grow back.” You whispered, “and that piece of metal, I know it hit them.”

“I don’t know what the mixture did to you, and I honestly don’t care because I still have my sister.” Shuri replied. “But according to our scans, your body has changed the way it obtains oxygen. I wouldn’t say that you breathe with gills now, because you don’t have any that we know of, but you don’t really use what is left of your lungs.”

“I don’t know whether to be thankful or disturbed.” You whispered before a deep rumbling voice cut through the room. Head snapping around, you recognized Attuma’s voice instantly.

“I am glad to see you on your feet again, my queen. Are you feeling well?” Griot translated.

“I feel fine, Attuma,” You replied, listening as Griot translated your words. The large Talokanil seemed appeared by what you said, and you turned back to Shuri. “How long has it been?”

“Not even an hour, I am amazed at how fast it worked.” Shuri explained, eyes flickering down to the spot on your covered abdomen where a gaping hole had once been. “But I would advise taking it easy for a while, I do not know how well your body has adapted to these changed.”

“You say that like you expect me to go charging into battle,” You fired back with a twitch in your lip. Then you paused, remembering what had gotten you into this predicament in the first place. You scrambled up from where you sat, waving off the hands trying to help you. “Where is he? Where is mother? Tell me they aren’t sill fighting!” Your teeth ground together that the thought of them still fighting each other over your decision. Had you not married K’uk’ulkan to put an end to it?

“When we left the beach they both agreed to talk about their issues, rather than fight.” Shuri rushed out trying to sooth your agitated state. “I do not think they wish to hurt you further by choosing violence yet again.”

“Oh please, mother was itching to pick a fight with him.” You snapped out, storming across the lab and leaving wet foot tracks behind. Shuri darted out and caught your wrist.

“Y/N,” She enunciated. “They aren’t going to fight, not after what happened to you. I think that was enough to snap then out of it.” You weren’t entirely convinced, but relented for now on faith.

“Fine,” You sighed, rubbing your forehead and pushing wet hair sticking to your face, back. “What the hell do I do now?”

“Well you could start by pulling on some clothes and telling me what the hell is up with you and Namor.” You eyed Shuri’s ‘as-a-matter-of-fact’ expression, she was going to pick your brain, you were sure of it.

You used one of the showers near the lab for when… incidents, happened. The immersion solution was washed from your skin, leaving you feeling much better, and cleaner. While drying yourself off, you took the chance to look at the place where you once had a fatal wound. Your skin was smooth, but a little sensitive to touch. Standing in front of the mirror, your fingers trailed along your skin which no longer held any of the marks K’uk’ulkan’s mouth had painted upon your skin. Even the crimson paint, decorating your skin with the honor the Talokanil woman bestowed on you, was gone. All that remained from your time there was the jade piercings within your ears, and the vibranium in your nose and lip.

Shuri had reassured you that your jade necklace, which you had immediately noticed was no longer around your neck along with K’uk’ulkan’s mother’s bracelet, was set to the side for you to wear again when you were ready. It felt silly to miss something you had only worn for ten days, but the jade necklace resting against your sternum often felt soothing to you when you felt the most alone.

“Don’t be silly about relying on a piece of jewelry to feel better Y/N,” You chided yourself. Toweling off the rest of your body, you looked at the clothes Shuri had offered you to change into. Your lips twitched at the pants. You hadn’t worn pants in nearly two weeks, having chosen to wear the traditional Talokan dresses of royalty. You couldn’t say that you didn’t miss pants, but you definitely liked the feel of the Talokan dresses on your skin.

You took the undergarments from the top of the pile and changed into them, grimacing as your ribs protested you bending over. Whatever Shuri had done with the Heart Shaped herb and the Blue Herb had healed you up, certainly, but you could still feel lingering aches from your wounds. Pulling your pants up proved to not be much fun as that hurt too, but at least Shuri had been kind enough to give you a button up shirt so you didn’t have to stretch.

“Y/N?” Shuri’s voice floated through the closed door. “Do you need help? You’ve been in there for quite a while…” Walking over to the door, you buttoned up the last few buttons and motioned for the door to open. Shuri stood on the other side.

“Don’t need help, I just have a lot on my mind right now.” You told her, hands working to fold back the sleeves of your shirt. Shuri hummed before carefully sliding her arm through yours and pulling you in the direction of the lab.

“Perfect, you can tell me all about how you got to know the man mother currently hates.” Shuri said all too happily. You sighed at her and allowed her to pull you along to the cylinder holo deck. Floating in it was presumably the DNA sequencing she had done to save your life. You examined it for a moment, taking in all the green. “So?” She prompted you. “Spill it.”

“He showed up on by beach after I got back from the council meeting.” You explained shortly. “And for your information, I called him an ass and threatened him with my knife. He was amused by it.”

“Probably because you aren’t exactly the most threatening person, Y/N.” Shuri dryly pointed out. You shot her a look.

“Look, I pulled a knife on him plenty of times, but he never threatened me. Even after I did so. It was kind of infuriating how pleasant he was.” You scowled at the memory. Even with your knife pressed against his jugular, K’uk’ulkan had stayed relaxed with a smile.

“Sounds like you finally met your match, continue.” Shuri demanded as Attuma lumbered over. You rolled your eyes and did as she asked.

Date Published: 7/2/23

Last Edit: 4/5/23

Previous | Masterlist | Next

#namor #namor x y/n #namor fanfiction #namor of talokan #namor x reader #black panther #wakanda forever

64 notes · View notes

fissicn · 1 year ago

Note

what's your muse's favorite holiday? how do they celebrate it?

does your muse talk to themselves when they're alone? if so, how frequently and what about? if not, how else do they fill their alone time?

does your muse think fondly about the place where they were born, or do they dislike it? why?

in-depth headcanons || always accepting!

thank you so much for this ask this ended up way longer than i thought! i'll put it under a read more lmao

what's your muse's favorite holiday? how do they celebrate it?

When it comes to major international holidays, Nesiwe loves Christmas because it's right at the start of summer in Cape Town! Nesiwe's always been a summer person, and kicking it off by spending the day with family and heading down to the beach just makes it even better.

In terms of holidays specific to South Africa, Nesiwe loves Heritage Day (September 24). There are lots of live shows, people are encouraged to dress in the traditional dress of their own cultures, and there are a lot of braais (similar to barbecues) — they even call it "Braai Day" in South Africa because of this! Plus it's a day off school, so young Nesiwe jumped at that chance... though her school did their own celebrations in the week leading up to it. Fun class parties and whatnot complete with cultural lessons. She loved it.

does your muse talk to themselves when they're alone? if so, how frequently and what about? if not, how else do they fill their alone time?

Nesiwe doesn't talk to herself as much as sing to herself, but yes, she does! Unless she's upset or unwell, she's always singing to herself when she's alone. There's no limit to what she sings. Sometimes it's a song her mom used to sing to her, sometimes it's current pop music, sometimes it's just a random song that got stuck in her head.

does your muse think fondly about the place where they were born, or do they dislike it? why?

Nesiwe's heart is always, always in Cape Town. She was born and raised there and she loved every minute of it. The trips to the beach, the big city, and — of course — one of the oldest nuclear reactors on the African continent. She went to the visitor centre there all the time as a child.

Being raised there, immersed in a mixture of her family's native Xhosa culture as well as the local Afrikaans and English culture, she got a look at so many different ways of life that she wouldn't trade for anything.

#atom by atom! ...uh oh [ ooc ]#byanyan #i need an about or headcanon tag #uhhhhhh hmmm #did i ever mention that? [ about ]

1 note · View note

sos-ndebele · 1 year ago

Text

Section 2: Fashion Range

2.1 Conceptual Framework: The fashion range developed by Nkosana embodies the essence of Ndebele mural paintings and the visual language presented in Ditema tsa Dinoko. This collection seeks to harmonize traditional aesthetics with contemporary design, creating garments that celebrate Ndebele artistry while captivating the modern fashion audience. The range comprises four key categories: apparel, accessories, footwear, and jewelry.

2.2 Apparel: The apparel collection embraces the vibrant colors, geometric patterns, and symbolic motifs found in Ndebele mural art. Silhouettes are inspired by both traditional Ndebele attire, such as the isicholo headpiece and the umbhaco dress, as well as contemporary fashion trends. Bold prints and meticulous embroidery techniques are employed to replicate the intricate details of Ndebele wall paintings. Fabrics are carefully selected to ensure both visual impact and comfort, with references to sustainable materials and innovative textiles that align with the ethos of major fashion brands focused on ethical fashion.

References:

The use of traditional attire and contemporary silhouettes can be observed in the work of South African designer Laduma Ngxokolo for his brand Maxhosa Africa, which celebrates Xhosa heritage through modern knitwear designs (Ngxokolo, 2019).

Sustainability and innovative textiles are integral to the collections of Stella McCartney, who incorporates ethical and eco-friendly materials into her designs, setting an example for sustainable fashion practices (Stella McCartney, 2020).

2.3 Accessories: The accessories collection complements the apparel range, showcasing Ndebele-inspired motifs in various forms. Handbags, clutches, and belts feature intricate beadwork and embroidery, incorporating vibrant colors and geometric patterns synonymous with Ndebele art. Footwear designs draw inspiration from traditional Ndebele beadwork, with intricately beaded sandals and modern reinterpretations of moccasins and veldskoene. The use of sustainable materials, such as upcycled leather and natural fibers, aligns with the values of major fashion brands committed to environmental responsibility.

References:

The incorporation of traditional craft techniques in accessories can be observed in the work of Colombian designer Silvia Tcherassi, known for her artisanal handbags and intricate embellishments (Tcherassi, 2018).

Sustainability in footwear design is exemplified by brands like Veja, which utilizes eco-friendly materials and ethical production methods in their sneakers (Veja, 2020).

2.4 Jewelry: The jewelry collection captures the essence of Ndebele cultural adornment, featuring statement pieces that reflect the geometric patterns and intricate beadwork seen in Ndebele mural art. Necklaces, earrings, and bracelets are crafted using a combination of traditional beadwork techniques and contemporary metalwork. Precious metals, gemstones, and vibrant beads are incorporated to create striking and symbolic designs that pay homage to Ndebele heritage. The jewelry range also explores sustainable practices, such as the use of ethically sourced materials and responsible manufacturing processes.

References:

The integration of traditional craft techniques and contemporary design in jewelry can be seen in the work of Nigerian jeweler Adele Dejak, known for her bold and innovative pieces that draw inspiration from African heritage (Dejak, 2019).

Sustainable practices in jewelry design are exemplified by brands like Chopard, which champions responsible sourcing of precious metals and gems in their creations (Chopard, 2021).

By incorporating these design elements and referencing the practices of major international fashion brands, Nkosana's fashion range embraces the rich cultural heritage of Ndebele mural art and Ditema tsa Dinoko, ensuring a collection that is both aesthetically captivating and academically grounded.

0 notes

travelluxegroup · 2 years ago

Text

Uncovering South Africa's Rich Cultural Heritage Through Photography

Through the Lens: Capturing South Africa's Culture Photography is a powerful tool for capturing the essence of South Africa's diverse cultural heritage. The country is home to over 50 million people, each with their unique experiences, traditions, and stories, waiting to be discovered and shared through the lens. The Power of Photography in Understanding Culture Photography allows us to capture a moment frozen in time, providing a glimpse of culture that would otherwise be lost or forgotten. It is a powerful way to understand and appreciate diversity and to create positive social change. Photographs can be used to tell a story, capture a moment, or convey a mood or emotion. Photographing South Africa's Diverse Culture South Africa is a melting pot of cultures, with 11 official languages and a rich history of diverse traditions and customs. Photographing the country's cultural heritage requires an open mind and a willingness to immerse oneself in different communities. There are several ways to approach cultural photography in South Africa: - Visit museums and galleries that feature South African art and photography to gain inspiration and insights into the country's culture - Attend cultural events and festivals to capture the vibrancy and energy of the local communities - Explore bustling townships to photograph daily life and interactions among the locals - Document the natural beauty of South Africa's landscape and how it shapes the country's culture Challenges of Photographing South Africa's Culture Photographing any culture requires respect, sensitivity, and understanding. However, there are several challenges specific to South Africa: - Language barriers can make it challenging to communicate and connect with local communities - Social and economic disparities can be confronting and require tact and sensitivity - Limited resources and inadequate infrastructure can make it difficult to access certain communities or regions - Historical and political tensions can create sensitivities around the representation of culture and history Tips for Successful Cultural Photography in South Africa To capture South Africa's cultural heritage effectively, photographers should: - Research the history and context of the culture they plan to photograph to ensure sensitivity and respect for its traditions - Take the time to understand the local community and build rapport with those they photograph - Be mindful of language barriers and invest in a guide or translator if necessary - Be aware of the cultural sensitivities surrounding certain topics and situations - Respect local laws and customs, including seeking permission before photographing individuals or certain sites Photography is an excellent way to explore and celebrate South Africa's diverse cultural heritage. With the right approach, photographers can capture the beauty, diversity, and complexity of this fascinating country, sharing its wonders with audiences around the world. The Diversity of South Africa's Cultural Heritage South Africa, also known as the Rainbow Nation, is a country with a rich cultural heritage. The people of South Africa represent a variety of ethnic groups, each with their unique traditions, customs, and beliefs. In this section, we will explore the diverse cultural heritage of South Africa. The Zulu Culture The Zulu people are the largest ethnic group in South Africa. They have a rich cultural heritage characterized by traditional dress, music, dance, and rituals. The Zulu men wear distinctive black and white beaded necklaces and headbands, while Zulu women dress in vibrant colors and patterns. Zulu traditional dance forms such as the Indlamu and the Zulu stick fighting are popular cultural activities. The Xhosa Culture The Xhosa culture is known for its distinctive dress style, which includes colorful beads and blankets. The Xhosa language, with its unique clicking sounds, is one of the official languages of South Africa. The Xhosa people celebrate their cultural heritage through music, dance and traditional ceremonies, such as the coming of age initiation rituals for young men and women. The San Culture The San people are the descendants of South Africa's earliest inhabitants known for their rock art and hunter-gatherer lifestyle. Their cultural heritage includes storytelling, music, and dance. The San have a traditional healing practice that makes use of herbs and other natural remedies. The Cape Malay Culture The Cape Malay culture is the result of the influence of Indonesian, Indian, and African slaves brought to the Cape by the Dutch East India Company in the 17th and 18th centuries. The Cape Malay culture is characterized by its unique cuisine, music, and dress style. Cape Malay cuisine is famous for its spicy curries and samoosas. The Afrikaans Culture The Afrikaans culture is the result of the influence of Dutch settlers who came to South Africa in the 17th century. The Afrikaans language, which is one of the official languages of South Africa, is derived from Dutch. The Afrikaans culture is characterized by its food, music, and literature. South Africa's cultural heritage is diverse and vibrant. The country's people are proud of their cultural identity and celebrate it through various cultural activities, such as music, dance, and traditional ceremonies. A Journey Through Time: Historical Sites and Artifacts If you want to uncover South Africa's rich cultural heritage, you need to take a journey through time by visiting historical sites and viewing artifacts that showcase the country's colorful and complex past. The Cradle of Humankind The Cradle of Humankind is a UNESCO World Heritage site, located about an hour's drive from Johannesburg. It is the world's richest hominid site, containing the fossils of the earliest known ancestors of modern humans. Visitors can take a guided tour of the Sterkfontein Caves, where many of these fossils were found. Robben Island Robben Island, situated just off the coast of Cape Town, is a symbol of South Africa's struggle against apartheid. Nelson Mandela, the country's first black president, was imprisoned here for 18 years. Today, visitors can take a guided tour of the island and see the cell where Mandela was kept. The tour also includes a visit to the limestone quarry where Mandela and his fellow political prisoners were forced to work. The Apartheid Museum The Apartheid Museum, located in Johannesburg, tells the story of South Africa's struggle against apartheid. The museum is divided into two sections: one for whites and one for non-whites. Visitors are given an identity card that assigns them to one of these groups, and they must enter the museum through the designated entrance. The museum's exhibits include photographs, video footage, and artifacts that showcase the brutality and injustice of apartheid. The Voortrekker Monument The Voortrekker Monument, located in Pretoria, is a massive granite structure that commemorates the Voortrekkers, who were Dutch-speaking settlers that migrated to the interior of South Africa in the 1830s. The monument is decorated with reliefs that depict scenes from their journey. Visitors can also climb to the top of the monument for a panoramic view of the surrounding countryside. The Iziko South African Museum The Iziko South African Museum, located in Cape Town, is the country's oldest museum. It has a large collection of artifacts that showcase the country's natural and cultural heritage. Some of the exhibits include fossils, indigenous plants and animals, and cultural artifacts from South Africa's different ethnic groups. The Cultural Significance of South African Cuisine South African cuisine is a melting pot of different cultures and traditions, with a rich history that spans over several centuries. The country's culinary scene is heavily influenced by the indigenous tribes, Dutch colonizers, British settlers, and Indian immigrants, among other groups. Indigenous Cuisines The Bantu people, who make up the majority of South Africa's population, have a rich culinary tradition that revolves around maize, sorghum, millet, and beans. One of the most iconic dishes from this group is pap, a type of porridge made from ground maize that is often served with meat, vegetables, and sauce. The Khoisan, who are indigenous to Southern Africa, are known for their love of wild game, such as bushmeat, and for their foraging skills. Colonial Influences The Dutch settlers, who arrived in South Africa during the 17th century, introduced many European dishes to the local cuisine. One of the most famous examples is bobotie, a savory dish made with spiced minced meat and topped with a custard-like mixture. The British, who arrived in the 19th century, brought with them their love of tea and scones, as well as dishes such as fish and chips. Indian Contributions Indian immigrants, who arrived in South Africa in the 19th century to work on sugar plantations, brought with them a vibrant culinary tradition that is still prevalent today. Some of the most iconic Indian dishes in South Africa include bunny chow, a type of curry served in a hollowed-out loaf of bread, and samoosas, a type of deep-fried pastry filled with savory or sweet fillings. The cultural significance of South African cuisine cannot be overstated. It reflects the country's diverse heritage and provides a window into the past, present, and future of this unique nation. As travelers, we have the opportunity to immerse ourselves in the local cuisine and learn about the customs, traditions, and people that make up the vibrant tapestry of South Africa's cultural heritage. Traditional Attire: An Expression of Identity and Heritage Traditional attire in South Africa is a crucial part of the country's cultural heritage, reflecting the diverse societies and ethnic groups that make up the nation. The attire is not only a fashion statement but also an expression of identity, heritage, and cultural pride. Types of Traditional Attire There are several types of traditional attire, each with its unique design, colors, and patterns. The most common ones include: - Shweshwe - A cotton fabric with intricate geometric patterns and hailing from the Xhosa tribe. - Isishweshwe - Another fabric with a distinct check pattern, primarily worn by the Zulu tribe. - Basotho Blanket - A thick woolen blanket traditionally worn by the Sotho people and widely adopted by other tribes as well. - Dashiki and Kanga - A loose-fitting shirt and wrap-around skirt commonly worn by women and men in several African countries. The Significance of Traditional Attire Traditional attire reflects the rich cultural heritage of South Africa's different tribes and ethnic groups. It is also a symbol of heritage and pride, portraying the values and beliefs of each community. Wearing traditional attire for cultural events, weddings, and other ceremonies is a display of respect for one's cultural heritage. The attire also plays a prominent role in modern fashion, with designers incorporating traditional designs into contemporary clothing. Preserving Traditional Attire Preserving traditional attire is crucial in safeguarding South Africa's cultural heritage. The government, along with cultural organizations, encourages the preservation of traditional clothing by promoting its use in public events, such as Heritage Day and National Women's Day, among others. Craftsmen and women, who are skilled in creating traditional garments, also play an essential role in ensuring the longevity of traditional clothing. In conclusion, traditional attire in South Africa is more than just a fashion statement; it is an expression of identity and heritage. Preserving traditional clothing is vital in upholding the cultural heritage of the diverse communities in the country. Music and Dance: Celebrating South African Culture South Africa is a country with a rich cultural heritage, and no celebration is complete without music and dance. Traditional African music and dance have their roots in the diverse ancestral cultures of South Africa. With each celebration, the music and dance showcase the unique traditions and customs of the people. Styles of Music The different regions in South Africa have distinct musical backgrounds, and the music reflects their ancestry. From isiZulu traditional music to the sounds of Cape Town, traditional music forms an integral part of South African culture. The township jive is a genre that originated in the townships of South Africa, and it gained popularity in the 1950s. It is a mix of African rhythms and Western Jazz music. Celebratory Dance Forms Dance forms are passed down through generations and are an integral part of South African culture. The most common dance styles include the gumboot dance, the Zulu dance, and the pantsula dance, among others. The gumboot dance is a form of dance where dancers wear rubber boots and stomp their feet in unison. The Zulu dance is a celebratory dance usually performed during weddings and other traditional ceremonies. The pantsula dance is a modern street dance that originated in the townships of South Africa and combines the traditional African dance forms with more urban styles. Music and Dance Festivals South Africa hosts several music and dance festivals that celebrate the diversity and richness of the country's culture. The Cape Town International Jazz Festival is one of the largest jazz festivals in Africa, featuring both local and international artists. The Joy of Jazz Festival is another popular festival that attracts jazz lovers from around the world. Other significant music festivals in South Africa include the Oppikoppi Festival, the Rocking the Daisies Festival, and the Cape Town International Music Festival. In conclusion, South African music and dance are an essential part of the country's culture, and they showcase the diversity of the people. From traditional to modern styles, the country boasts of unique and vibrant music and dance forms that continue to inspire generations. South Africa is truly a melting pot of different cultures, and through music and dance, people come together to celebrate their heritage and traditions. Preserving Heritage: Challenges and Opportunities in Modern Times Preserving heritage is an essential part of maintaining culture and identity. It ensures that future generations understand and appreciate their roots. However, in modern times, preserving heritage poses many challenges, but it also presents opportunities to promote and educate about cultural history. Challenges The fast pace of technology and the digital age have made it difficult to preserve heritage. The younger generation often lacks interest in cultural heritage, which makes it challenging to pass it down. Furthermore, climate change, urbanization, and globalization have led to the destruction of cultural sites. The scarcity of resources, funding, and skilled professionals makes it hard to preserve heritage. Opportunities Despite the challenges, modern technology presents opportunities to preserve heritage. With digital tools like photography, heritage can be captured and shared for generations to come. It offers a new way of experiencing culture and history. Besides, social media and the internet provide a platform for educating and promoting cultural heritage. Communities can take advantage of tourism to raise awareness and generate revenue to support preservation efforts. Preserving heritage is vital to our sense of identity and culture. We must make a concerted effort to keep our rich cultural heritage alive for future generations. If you're interested in exploring some of the stunning temples of Thailand, check out this premium photo tour of Chiang Rai for an unforgettable experience. Read the full article

0 notes