I know I haven’t posted on tumblr in soooooo Long but here is what happened this past weekend. After 4yrs I married the love of my life. We are currently spending our honeymoon is Paris then it’s off to Dubai!! It’s feels so great to be Mrs. Alvarez!!!! Yes I married a Latino 😍
Follow me on Instagram to stay in the loop! @Phyliciabenn
Black Bride <3 Tightlacing corset with straps in black cotton satin for my lovely friend. You have seen her before, I Always lace her up in my tiny corsets. And I am honored that I was allowed to make her dress for her special day.
Now this beautiful couple is wearing a traditional Eritrean ceremonial wedding jacket that alexander mcqueen stole the idea from hoping people would not know he is exploiting these people’s culture and distorting and destroying history.
Warnings: Implied smut, intense kissing, terrible cooking, badly translated french
Word Count: 1239
(f/c) - favorite color
“No put this one on!” You protested as Lafayette pulled one of his Beatles record out of it’s case.
“(Y/N), you choose the record last time. It’s my turn, remember?” Laf smirked, putting the record onto the record player.
“Fine.” You huffed, putting your own favorite record down.
“Je t'aime, mon ange.” He smiled at your pouting face, pulling you in for a hug.
“I love you too, french fry.” You tilted your head up towards his, your lips barely brushing, “You going to teach me those french recipes now, or what?” You pulled away quickly, earning a groan from, Laf.
“You’re evil.” He mumbled, as you tied a (f/c) apron around your waist.
“I know.” You winked, “Now what are we making first?”
“Well, (Y/N), considering the fact that you burn everything, let’s start with something simple.” He tied his own apron around his waist, making his way to your cooking supplies.
“I don’t burn everything!” You exclaimed, not wanting to admit that you really were a terrible cook.
“I’m not trying to offend you, mon amour. It’s not a bad thing that cooking is not one of your, how you say, talents.” Laf stated calmly, “I’m first going to teach you how to make a crepe!”
“A crepe? Wow, a stereotypical french food? I expected better from you, Laf.” You watched as the frenchman continued getting ingredients, rolling his eyes.
“It was the only thing I knew for sure that you would actually eat. I know you will be able to make these perfect, Ma moitié, I promise.” He placed the ingredients down, moving to stand next to you.
“Okay, let’s do this! Start the music and teach me how to cook!” You pulled your hair back out of your face, prepared for what you thought to be one of your biggest challenges.
New confidence surged through you. Knowing that Lafayette thought you could do it, made you positive you could. In the several months you had been dating Lafayette you had realized one of the most important things. Whenever Laf had faith that you were able to do something, he was right. He was your number one fan. He was always there to be your support and shoulder to lean on. He believed in you when no one else did, including yourself. So, knowing Laf had faith in your cooking made you more confident than you had been all day. You knew, that you could do this.
Lafayette grinned at this new confidence (Y/N) had and walked over the the record player. The record began to spin as he slowly dropped the pin onto the record. The sound of The Beatles filled the kitchen and house. Laf immediately began bobbing his puffy ponytail to the music, dancing as he came back to where you were standing. He continued to dance to the beat as he moved the bowls and ingredients in front of you.
He instructed you slowly, helping you make the batter at your own pace. Laf couldn’t help, but fall deeper in love with you while watching you make it. The focus and pure determination on your face made his heartbeat speed up. He loved watching you at work. You didn’t notice Laf’s loving stares while you worked. Instead, you blocked out the world, making sure everything was perfect. Laf smiled, watching your face light up with pride as you finished the batter.
“Did I do it right?” You looked up at Laf in excitement.
“Well,” He pretended to expect the batter. You heart almost stopped, thinking you had done it wrong. “It’s perfect! I couldn’t have made it better myself, Ma chèr!”
“Yes!” You danced around in excitement.
“Let me heat up the stove. This may take a moment, mon ange. You should sit down and take a break. You have been working very hard.” He winked at you, making your heart bang against your chest.
You sat down, watching Laf get to work on heating up the stove and spraying the pan. A light smile graced your lips, listening to the tall man sing the words of The Beatles quietly. You watched as he got louder, dancing by himself as he set down the pan he had been spraying. You couldn’t help but giggle at the dance moves he attempted and failed to do. They were disastorous to watch, making you tempted to film it for your snapchat story.
Then, the song suddenly changed to one that both you and Laf loved, Blackbird. Before you started dating, Laf had heard you playing this on the guitar to a few of your friends. He had loved it and approached you asking you to teach him. This had been the spark that started your relatinship. Blackbrid, was considered your song. insturmental
Lafayette slowly turned to you as the instrumental of the beginning played. A smile lit up both of your faces as Laf quickly approached you, singing the words to his fullest.
“Blackbird singing in the dead of night. Take these broken wings and learn to fly.” He grabbed your hands, pulling you up from your seat. “All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise.”
“Blackbird singing in the dead of night. Take these sunken eyes and learn to see.” You sang back to him, just as loudly. “All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free.”
Laf lifted you up, putting your feet on top of his. He kept his arms around your waist, as you moved your arms around his neck. He moved you slowly to the beat, singing the song softly in your ear. You laid your head against his chest, sighing in content. These were the moments in your relationship that the two of you lived for. Those quiet moments when you both knew what the other was thinking. These were the moments when you both knew you loved each other more than anything in this world.
“Blackbird singing in the dead of night. Take this broken wings and learn to fly. All your life,” Laf sang quietly, moving back to look you in the eyes.
“You were only waiting for this moment to arise. You were only waiting for this moment to arise. You were only waiting for this moment to arise.” You both sang the end of the song together, looking at each other like they were the only person that mattered.
As the guitar strummed one last time, Laf moved in slowly to kiss you. The kiss was slow and meaningful, taking both of your breaths away. You moved your hands through his hair, tangling it with your fingers. His hands traveled up and down your spine, giving you the chills. He smiled into the kiss, picking you up slowly and placing you on the counter.
The kiss deepened, but did not become any less gentle. Laf stood in between your legs, moving his hands to rest on your thighs. A beep from the stove made Laf pull away, much to your discontent. He rested his forehead against yours, smiling coyly.
“Je t'aime, (Y/N)” He panted, out of breath from the kiss you had just shared.
“Je t’aime, Lafayette.” You said softly.
“Let’s finish these crepes later.” Laf’s smile turned into a smirk.
“Sounds good, french fry.” You returned his smirk with one of your own, before pulling him in for another kiss.
A debut for Australian theatre director Benedict Andrews, Una is centred around a young woman (surprisingly of the same name), played by Rooney Mara who embarks on a mission to find an individual who has affected her life in the most extreme of ways. The film is set over two nights, focusing predominantly on Una’s ventures during the day. Adapted from ‘Blackbrid’, a play written by David Harrower, I believe that Andrews was able to convey the essence of the play within two main acts and dipping into flashbacks to provide heightened tension.
From the outset of the film, there is a very real sense of taboo and uneasiness, due to the content. The sheer audacity to create a film (or play) in an effort to convey the afterthoughts of sexual abuse in such a honest, raw style is reminiscent of ‘The Woodsman’ with Kevin Bacon and ‘The Hunt’ with Mads Mikkelsen. Unlike the previous films, Una focuses on the relationship between the abuser and the abused some 15 years after the event; the latter seeking out her perpetrator to find what little hope is left for her to feel intimacy and sensitivity.
Ben Mendelsohn plays ‘Peter’ initially, however we soon find out that his real name is Ray once Una shows up unannounced at his workplace and therein the story of their relationship fifteen years previously, unravels. The exploration of pain and suffering of both main characters makes this film extremely confrontational and tough to experience.
The direction is extremely suggestive and barley depicts the acts it is centred around that make for an arguably more upsetting experience. When dealing with full-on pedophilic actions (notably a scene set in a park) the camera slowly zooms in, leaving the audience with no other choice but to imagine the incomprehensible act. Personally I found this shot choice unforgettable in its nature. The film could have possibly been cut down somewhat in length with some questionable scenic fillers at times, nonetheless, it’s mostly engaging. Mara is well cast in her vicious and crazy portrayal of Una, whilst Mendelsohn shows that he is one of the great Australian actors currently working. I found it to be an interesting choice of character for Mendelsohn, who is nothing short of disturbing.
Una is a film about intention, abuse and one young ladies’ attempt to reconcile a shattered capacity to engage in mature, loving relationships through no fault of her own. Whilst it never reaches the same heights as ‘The Hunt’ in its intensity, it examines the most heinous of crimes and the long-term affects on both perpetrator and victim.