I dragged my boyfriend to comic con last year on Valentine’s Day (you’d think a guy wouldn’t complain about that, I know, it’s just not his thing tho) and this year he gets to pick what we’re doing! And he picked going to London! He likes London a lot.

It’s just a one day trip but I still need to be able to afford the train tickets, so how about you go and treat yourself to something nice from my shop? ♥

I’m even offering 15% off! The code GOLDEN15 will give you a 15% discount on any purchase.

Thank you, come again!! :D

Why do you carry
All that baggage with you
Can’t you tell it’s weighing you down?
I know you like to hold on to things
But it isn’t even yours to hold

How do you carry
Such a burden on your back
Can you even move forward anymore?
I know you like to look after people
But you need to look after yourself

@5SOS: not long…



LGBTQIPA+ Designs are now available to purchase on my Redbubble page! I will be creating more soon, when I have time, such as Demi and Pan flags, but for now we have Asexual, Gay, Bi and Trans flags!

Click on the link above to go to my page and browse :3 thank you for your continued support!


looked at - a portrait collection by larry d. rosalez
art walk gainesville | lennie kesl studios | 29 jan 2016
gainesville, fl


“looked at” is a collection of work spanning from 2010-2016 making their debut in print. these images, i’d describe as contemplative and soulful, tread between the sensation of looking at and being looked at while maintaining a common sense of quiet.

some of my photos were shared online with a tag : TW: scopophobia (which is the fear of being seen/stared at/looked at) and that inspired me to investigate  the relationship between photos with directed, unobscured eye contact, and photos with obscured or averted gazes (or even eyes closed altogether.) what is it that would cause us to fear being seen? what parts of us have we attempted to keep hidden that would cause us to avoid being looked at?

each of these people, artists, thinkers, dancers, nurturers, friends allowed me to look at them for extended periods of time and frame our experience together. our proximity gave me access to moments often inaccessible to the public gaze. for instance, i am able to photograph blemishes, stretchmarks, and untamed hair but i can also witness intense sadness, or freedom, or release. sometimes it feels like they are witnessing me. asking questions, telling stories, sharing history, confessing, praying, listening. 

while curating the show i considered my personal relationship to these individuals (i know each personally but with varying proximity, nature, and duration), emotional intensity (or restraint), tone (hurt queen’s heaviness, lacina’s breath, levon’s smirk, robyn’s invitation), eye contact (or not), race/ethnic background (which i find difficult not to see these days) and overall fit in the whole body. i picked what felt good – what drew and maintained my gaze.

the qualities i like about the images (and the people in them) are qualities i admire and aspire to myself: poise, tenderness, vulnerability, ease, restraint, effort, breath, satisfaction beauty, confidence, pain, pleasure, focus, intention, freedom, beauty, wisdom, youth, age, stillness – all the stuff of life. in these ways, they are all types of reflections of me, or at least what i hope to see when i see me. (and some of them are so clear you can see my reflection in the eyes, so it’s lowkey a self-portrait series too)

gotta give an enormous THANK YOU to everyone who helped make this happen. all the people who sat/stood/dance/looked for me, family, friends, donors (i raised >$800 on gofundme in a week), supporters, sharers, thinkers, congratulators, and you, guests. you all really know how to make a person feel loved, nurtured, supported and i am grateful to god for that.

luh yall,
larry d. rosalez

insta & twitter: yolarryd  |  tumblr: organicsomethings.tumblr.com   |   facebook: larry d. rosalez

in my heart

Word Count: 1.4k
Pairing: Aomine Daiki // Reader
Summary: You pursed your lips, trying to figure out when you had gone on any dates with someone that looked fit enough to be a basketball player. The only person you had gone a date with recently was obviously Aomine. And you guessed he was kind of a basketball player. But that was impossible….right? Maybe they had mistaken Aomine for someone else?

note: honestly my titles never matches the writing, just ignore them. in which aomine is this amazing pro basketball player yeah idk. send in your requests or just enjoy this one. valentine’s day is coming up! excited bc i…totally…have someone to…spend it…with…

You had met Aomine Daiki out of pure coincidence. It wasn’t like it was love at first sight but he had definitely stirred something inside you. You first saw him when he was in his natural element, playing basketball in some basketball court on your way back home. He was busting out moves and pulling out tricks out of his sleeves, rocking a plain shirt that stuck to him like second skin because of the intensity of his play.

You never did understand what the point of playing basketball by yourself was but later had discovered it had something to do with inner battling or whatever. It was interesting and you appreciated it, but it wasn’t your thing. Sports definitely wasn’t your thing. But apparently a person that played sports was your thing.

That was how you came to date Aomine Daiki; this amazing, sometimes idiotic but still very much attractive, often times basketball wielding guy. The two of you spent a lot of time together but you honestly wouldn’t have thought to call them dates.

He was quite odd really, because he had been almost secretive from the start. He would prefer using less frequented ways and wearing hoodies when it was blazing outside and shades indoors. The more paranoid part of you had came up with the ridiculous notion that maybe he was a criminal and that he was in hiding or something. The laughter from Aomine didn’t cease until a few days later.

And yet, he never did truly answer your question. You just left it to odd habits, and persuaded yourself to not judge a person so harshly. He would always duck his head when he was in public, and he never wanted to hold your hand too. You thought that maybe he was just not one for PDA.

Boy, could you have been more wrong.

The day of your official third date with the dark haired guy ended with your phone almost blowing up from all the text messages and calls that you were receiving. The two of you were on the way back to your apartment when the constant vibrating annoyed you to the point of madness.

“Wait, hold on.” You tugged at Aomine’s sleeve, stopping as you dug around your handbag for your phone, “It’s probably nothing but my phone’s been ringing nonstop.”

He presses his lips together but says nothing else, something akin to annoyance on his face. He had left his hoodie out of his outfit for the day, something you found refreshing and extremely adorable. He looked so different, all uncovered. You rolled your eyes at the look on his face but whispered out a cry of satisfaction when your fingers managed to wrap around your phone. It’s definitely not my birthday, you mused, picking out your still ringing phone and pulling up your messages. The most recent message had been one from your best friend.

What the heck?? You didn’t tell me you were seeing someone, let alone a VERY POPULAR AND VERY HOT BASKETBALL PLAYER?? Some friend you are.

You furrowed your eyebrows before tapping out a quick reply and checking the rest of the messages. All of them pretty much contained the same thing, something about you dating this apparently well-known basketball player. You weren’t quite sure where the whole rumour came from or why it even mattered to anyone if you were dating this hypothetical guy.

“Oi,” Aomine called out, from way in front of you. He had continued his steps even when you had stopped. He was impatient as usual. You huffed in reply but slipped your phone into the pocket of your jeans before joining him in his strides to your apartment.

Your phone vibrated some more before it fell silent. You pursed your lips, trying to figure out when you had gone on any dates with someone that looked fit enough to be a basketball player. The only person you had gone a date with recently was obviously Aomine. And you guessed he was kind of a basketball player. But that was impossible….right? Maybe they had mistaken Aomine for someone else?

The sudden thought jolted you back to reality. You sneaked a peek at the man beside you. He was pretty quiet which was unlike him.

Well, he clearly had the looks, and he had the stamina and he too was - as far as you could tell, at least - a very good basketball player. But he wasn’t well known or anything. No one had approached the two of you whilst you two were on your dates.

His eyes met yours and a smirk bloomed on his lips, “What, can’t wait ’til we get home?”

His lazy drawl made your heart skip a beat but you shook your head furiously. He grinned boyishly in return, taking your heart as his once more. His hair fluttered with the wind, his skin glistening beautifully under the sun. Oh gosh. It would totally make sense.

“H-hey, I have a question.” You posed, clearing your throat. You pulled out your phone to distract yourself, biting your bottom lip. He hummed as a reply when you opened up your phone once more.

“Could you…possibly be…oh, I don’t know, like maybe a basketball player? Like a legit, professional basketball player. I was just, you know, wondering.” You laughed a bit too awkwardly, finally opening up your conversation with your best friend. She had sent you a picture. That coupled with the response that you received from Aomine was enough to make you skid to a stop.

“Oh, that. Yeah, I guess.”

On the screen was a very pixelated but a glaringly obvious picture of you and Aomine walking together on the front of some kind of magazine.

“Wait, what?!”

After much difficulty, and with hypersensitive awareness for your surrounding, the two of you managed to stumble into your apartment without anymore talking. You were simply too overwhelmed to say anything and Aomine didn’t speak up, or even explain himself. Even after you showed him the picture that your best friend sent.

“Wait, so you’re really- You play basketball? Like professionally?” You asked again, looking up to search his face for any signs to show that he was joking. None. All you found was this hybrid of a sheepish and nonchalant look on his face. He shrugged, only throwing himself onto your couch.

“But why have you never mentioned it? So you’re like amazing at basketball right? Like, really, really good?” You asked, taking a seat beside him.

"You never asked.” He answered, reaching for the remote for the television. God, what was he thinking? Why was he so calm about this?

“And that, that magazine! What was that?” You slapped his arm, instantly regretting it when the slap resounds through the room.  

“It’s probably nothing, just some crap they pulled out of their asses,” He said, flicking through channels as he yawned. He rubbed the spot where you hit him but doesn’t bother to show anymore hints that he was in pain.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. I’m going crazy.” You muttered, standing up and walking around the room. The dread and anxiety pooled at the bottom of your stomach, and suddenly you were feeling restless. This obviously wasn’t what you had planned on happening when the two of you started dating, “Maybe this is all a dream. Maybe I’m making this all up. Yeah, it’s all in my head.”

A rush of air near your ear is enough to send you squealing. Aomine rested his chin on your shoulders, an amused smile etched on his face. He pressed kisses onto your neck, before finally turning you around to give you a full kiss on the lips.

“Does that really seem like a dream to you?” He asked when he pulls away. A smirk grew on his face when he notices your flushed face.

“N-no, it- um, I-” You managed before he cuts you off once more, pulling you back into a kiss. Ah, you probably picked the wrong guy to fall in love with. You had it bad but whatever.


“B-but honestly!” You whined when he finally pulled away. Your breathing is unsteady, coming out as short pants, “Nobody ever approached you or anything when we were in public.”

“Because I always hid.”

“Why now then?”

“I got tired of hiding.”

“Is that why you didn’t wear any of your usual outfit recently?”




Unholy trinity, because when you’re working on some big thing for your academic work, at 2:30 AM you just stop giving a shit about it, and things happen.

Hux the Emperor, Kylo with the sith eyes and scar, and Phasma just because.