dacre by Jonny Marlow rouge magazine 2017
Game of Thrones Daily

No title available

shark vs the universe
tumblr dot com

Kaledo Art
ojovivo
$LAYYYTER

★
Cosmic Funnies
RMH
Sade Olutola
KIROKAZE
sheepfilms
No title available

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
art blog(derogatory)

Kiana Khansmith
d e v o n
No title available
No title available
seen from South Korea
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
seen from Netherlands

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Venezuela
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Singapore

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
@aidencalhoun
dacre by Jonny Marlow rouge magazine 2017
badgalsy:
Symone crossed her arms as she sucked her teeth, anything she could do to stop herself from throwing hands and catching a case because Chad here couldn’t believe she didn’t want what he was offering, which in her opinion was nothing. She had her own money, and dick was easier to find than a Starbucks. “Is this really the first time you’ve heard no?” After a pause she laughed, finding the it both astonishing that he was really so upset, and strangely unsurprising that he threw a temper tantrum when she found herself unimpressed by the golden spoon he carried around in his mouth. “That’s exactly why I’m not interested. It’s how you stepped to me. Like you were doing my ass a favor. Your dick ain’t Midas, Chad.”
Now that the shock has worn off, annoyance is the emotion Aiden decides to land on the remainder of this conversation. If he wasn’t high off his own ego and trying to recover from the brutal beating its receiving because of her, Aiden would realize she’s not wrong to react that way. In his defense, he’s never had to approach a woman. Most already know his name and will drop on their knees for him within an instant, opened mouth and waiting. The ones who needed more convincing or tried to play hard to get, easily spread their legs after they caught onto the amount of zero’s attached to his last names. “How I stepped to you? The fuck were you expecting? A gold chariot?” Scoffing at her, it’s Aiden’s turned to look astonishing. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a lot more prettier when your mouth is closed? Not even that ass of yours is worth all this trouble.”
madboymars:
Everyone in town knew Mars sold drugs, even though he was careful to stay under the radar: It was one of Las Vegas’ worst kept secrets– Hard to stay under the radar when it was common knowledge that your father was in jail for running a cartel endorsed gang, when your skin was littered with the tattoos you had earned in the gang, when you wore your kutte with nothing but foolish pride. It had gotten simpler for Mars since the days of posting up on the corner at 12. Back then the cold metal of the gun Zeke had given him tucked haphazardly in the waist of the incredibly baggy clothes he used to wear felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, and the daily special: coke, rock, crystal, crank, or weed stashed in his pockets never made him feel any lighter. Now things were different. No more pistol whipping crack heads on cracked sidewalks. Instead Mars could post up in a private booth at Strobe, VIP, and wait for the business to come to him– And there was always business at Strobe. The things that hadn’t changed, the Glock in his waist band, the drugs in his pocket, the incredibly long hours, were things that came with the business. Things that were in his blood.
Mars had been up for days straight to meet his quotas. A meeting here, a pickup, some trapping, re-up, then deliveries, a drop off, then more trapping: Not to mention keeping up with his work back at the garage. It was a never ending cycle, it had been for a decade. In the booth he had taken both meeting, and clients, the string of people coming to see him making him out to be a popular man in the eyes of anyone who had been paying attention. Now behind red velvet ropes Mars was tired, slamming back a few of the warm shots of tequila he had lined up in front of him only for the empty shot glasses to be added to the collection he had growing at his table. Some from his meetings, but most from his own drinking. The loud pulse of the music flowed through him, numbing his mind as he reached into the pocket of his kutte to retrieve his own stash. Just a little something to keep him awake, to take the edge off.
The booth he was sat in was perfect. Private enough that he could go about his business, but open enough that customers could find him– Views of the entire club to keep the minds of his more nefarious connects at ease. But Mars didn’t care who was watching as he dumped a fraction of the contents of a small plastic baggy onto his balled up fist before cleaning it up with his nose. “Dios mio.” He sighed praises of his product as the white powder settled in his blood stream, and he shook his head as if the motion would make the drugs flower through him quicker. It didn’t take long for a grin to take over his tired features. “Oye!” He called to someone passing by a little too close to his booth, reinvigorated and ready to begin work once again. “Do you like to party, vato?”
No, Aiden didn’t own the joint but he sure as fuck walked into Strobe like he did. The youngest Calhoun son slipping past the long line of locals desperately trying to get into popular nightclub. Even though he did slip a Benjamin to the security guard, it wasn’t necessary. Everyone who was on importance knew who the fuck Aiden Calhoun was and the man never shied away from that basic fact. With a popular DJ spinning the hottest track, the club was more packed than usual. For a brief second, Aiden simply pauses to soak in the view. A crowded club doesn’t always guarantee a good time. But, from the looks of it, there was more than enough good looking woman in tight, skimpy dresses to hold his attention and, hopefully, end up on the floor of his bedroom before the night was out.
As he pushes through the gyrating bodies, trying to go to his usual VIP section, Aiden pauses when he hears a voice calls out to him. If he hadn’t been so close, there was no way he would’ve heard Mars over the loud bass. “The fuck you just call me?” Aiden jokingly responds, approaching the VIP booth without any trouble. With Naomi dealing his games and various functions for years now and a recent business venture, he knew of the LVH. Plus Harley Mars was almost as infamous as he was. “You must be high as a kite if you’re asking me dumbass questions like that. What party favors you have tonight?”
[text]: I SWEAR TO GOD I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU (bash)
[text to sebastian]: i’m going to assume you have the wrong fucking number.[text to sebastian]: or you forgot who you were talking to at this late hour.
TEXT MEMES (SOME NSFW).
[text]: did you enjoy the pics? ;)
[text]: send me pictures
[text]: where are you? why aren’t you back yet?
[text]: I SWEAR TO GOD I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU
[text]: i dont know if this is what i want anymore
[wrong number text]: (muse name) has gone out for the night, i’m all alone ;)
[wrong number text]: i just don’t know if i love them anymore
[wrong number text]: can we forget about last night? don’t tell (muse name) please!
[wrong number text]: i fucked her/him aha ;-) told (muse name) it was just a drunk kiss tho
[text]: i love you so fucking much
[text]: i hate you
[drunk text]: UR SUCH A BITCH I H9 U
[text]: i cannot stop thinking about you
[text]: i need you. now.
[text]: please respond. im so worried about you
[text]: last night was so GOOD
[text]: what are you wearing? ;)
[text]: is he bigger than me?
[text]: did you sleep with her ?!
[text]: you’re just a slut
[drunk text]: yOU’RE SO BEAUTIFUL !!>!
[drunk text]: dont tell (muse name) but theY ARE so hot
[drunk text]: im iss youu
[text]: bed or floor? ;-)
[text]: not to be desperate or anything but im currently home alone and on the verge of jerking myself off to pictures of you. would be better if it was the real you though !
[text]: i want you naked.
[text]: are you going to the party on saturday?
[text]: i want to show you how much i love you
[text]: do you hate me?
[text]: i’m so sorry
[text]: WAS THAT A SEXT
[text]: family dinner tomorrow night, and i’m prolly gonna finger you under the table..
[text]: I just bought new underwear for the sole purpose of you taking it off
[text]: netflix and chill?
[drunk text]: lveae me alone for 29 minutes !!! jeezss
[text]: damn you looked so good today. kinda wanted to bend you over that table you were leaning on lol
[text]: where are you i have something you need to fix (its a boner)
[text]: wtf is the notebook even about?? “if you’re a bird then i’m a bird” ? they’re both humans
cargallo:
The truth was she preferred the jobs like this. The ones with high risk, but high reward. It might have been what attracted Carmen to the city of Sin in the first place. Or maybe it was just fate’s taunting sense of irony, a misguided attempt at quelling the spark of recklessness with a self-proclaimed mission of shielding those who get caught in the crossfire. She tried not to dwell on it for too long however, something she had apparently become proficient at.
It was how she found herself under the employment of a one Aiden Calhoun. The name had been vaguely familiar, distant, but had no connotations worthy of trepidation as far as she was concerned. At first, she had considered him simply: here goes another pretty playboy with money to burn. But there was something more there, unobservable save for what she could sense in the way his staff seemed to hang on his every word.
Said staff that was now diligently removing any evidence of the night that had just transpired just a mere few minutes ago. “I’m pretty sure they are going to be needing that whiskey more than you after the losses they had tonight.” She smirked, briefly considering for a moment that perhaps there was a good possibility he was counting on something like this to happen with her presence.
“Glad I could be of service.” Closing the distance to the table, she slid into a stool as a fleeting moment of hesitation struck her. Drinking with your employer was generally never a good idea, but this was an unconventional assignment and well fuck it her shift just ended. Responsible enough. “So are both those glasses for you or are you going to share?”
“Trust me, they’ll be fine.” Aiden reassures in amusement. The players that walked in and out of these doors had a lot to willingly lose. Whatever they lost that night they could easily earn back in a week or two or even less. Sure, a few walked out with a few damaged egos and maybe the loss of a prized sports car, but the thrill of these high stakes games and the bragging rights that came with it brought players back every time.
Nudging one of the full glasses in Carmen’s direction, he nods his head. “Of course. After the night you had, sure you could use a drink as well.” Tilting his own glass in her direction, he then takes a sip. “All that aside. How’ve you been liking the gig so far?”
frankie-calhoun:
“No, I came here on p-p-purpose,” he stammered. He wished he could sink into the ground - which in all fairness, wasn’t unusual for Frankie. This had been a terrible idea and it was catching up to him. “I just…I wanted to see how everyone was, how everyone was d-d-doing.” It was clear that Aiden’s reaction wasn’t the same as Felicity’s. What could he expect, though?
Unsure of what to do with his hands, he shoved them in the pockets of his suit jacket. Looking between the floor and his brother rapidly, it took him a bit to get out his next words. “I haven’t seen you i-i-in a while. It’s, um, it’s m-my fault, but…” He licked his lips, took a deep breath. “I hope you’re okay.”
While all of the Calhoun children were different, Frankie was the one Aiden had the hardest time understanding. For as long as he could remember, his older brother did any and everything possible separate himself from their legacy. Which didn’t make any sense to Aiden---they were rich and powerful, what the fuck was there to run from? There are people out there who’d kill to have what they had and Frankie wanted no part of it. “You want to see how everyone is now? A decade a later? A little too later to care.” Aiden scoffs, a lack of sympathy in his tone. When it was all said and done he left, so Aiden doesn’t feel the need to be overjoyed by this impromptu reunion. “You really expect me to stand here and think you give a shit about me? There’s a reason you haven’t seen me in awhile. You made that choice.”
badgalsy:
He started to follow her, and Symone had to scold herself because she actually stopped to talk to him. She should have kept minding her own business, but there was something about the genuine shock in his voice at the possibility that she didn’t actually remember him. “Who are you? What the actual fuck is your problem?” She asked trying to hide her own genuine curiosity behind a silver tongue. “Do you really think that because you came up to me in the club asking what’s your name, what’s your sign that I should remember you?“ Brows furrowed as she crossed her arms in front of herself. She liked the cocky attitude, that she could deal with, but it was the entitlement she couldn’t get over. Symone had dealt with entitlement to her body before, but this man felt entitled to her mind, entitled to take up space in her thoughts– As if she didn’t have better things to be thinking about than some rich boy she twerked on in some club. “Sorry, it takes a little more than money and good looks to stay in my head like that. Besides, if I wanted Daddy’s money I’d be better off riding his dick instead of yours.”
For the first time in Aiden’s life he was absolutely speechless. Shocked. Completely fucking shocked. It was his brain or ego (probably both) that couldn’t fully comprehend how she not only didn’t know who he was but seemed overall unimpressed by his entire existence. It the biggest blow his oversized ego he’d ever gotten and for it to happen on the night his fucking family was showcasing how much they ran this city made it even worse. “What the fu---what is your problem?!” He counter, his tone a bit harsh over her defensiveness. “The only one with a fucking problem is you.” Probably not the best approach but that didn’t stop him from continuing. “You gave me this hard of a time at the club and now here? And over a what? A guy trying to know your name, maybe buy you a drink and get a dance?”
Angus & Julia Stone Chateau
Favorite flavor of ice cream?
“Mint chocolate chip. Why? Plan on bringing me some?”
Is always getting what you want tiring?
“Not to be dramatic but I think this is the dumbest question anyone has ever asked me.”
vvinniemagdalene:
“I ain’t gotta ask, I already know you do.” Winnie saw more than the world thought she saw, she just had the mind not to share her secrets. She had seen brutal men cry like little children, she had seen saintly men’s darkest fantasies, and she had seen Aiden Calhoun’s spoiled facade crumble for his family. It wasn’t something she brought up, she knew better, but she was already several glasses of champagne in which meant caution was being thrown to the wind. “You can pretend like all there is to you is a big dick and a bigger inheritance, but I know there’s a big heart in there, too. I just have my preferences.” She purred as Aiden’s hand gripped her neck, a sigh of disappointment escaping her lips as he told her she was going to have to wait. “Am I playing the part of your trophy, or do you want me to give ‘em a little hope that all this could be theirs?”
The honest response from Winnie cause Aiden to give her a playful pinch on her ass. He couldn’t deny that it was the truth, so he opted to say nothing at all. They’d been wrapped up in whatever you want to call this for so long, that of course she was able to see past his every day persona and meet a side of him that’s only reserved for his family. “Let’s go back to focusing on my big dick, shall we?” He smirked, not making much of an effort to put some distance between them. The soft purr that sounded from Winnie was enough to stir up the arousal brewing within him even more. “Give ‘em a little a hope. I get a sick satisfaction out of watching you rile men up just to take you for them and then watch their faces when I steal you away.”
badgalsy:
Symone couldn’t hide the hint of confusion that laced her features, causing her brows to furrow, as the man looked at her with smug satisfaction. She paused, biting her tongue, because while usually any man who was ballsy enough to call her sweetheart left her graces with a black eye, but the self aware pretty boy in front of her had piqued her interest enough with the declaration that this was his hotel that she let it slide. “I’m sorry, who the fuck are you?” The question left Symone’s lips with with cutting precision before she smiled as she decided it didn’t matter who he was, only who he thought he was, and everyone at the gala thought they were someone. Confusion made way for a smile with the realization, and Symone let her stole drape lazily at her elbows as she pushed past him, a train of white fur dragging behind her as she let a bare shoulder bushing up against the man daring him to stop her as she tried to make her way into the crowd. After all her only goal for the night was to mingle. “I’d love to waste time with you, but I have better things to do. Like literally anything else.”
The cocky expression on his face slowly disappears with each passing second that she stands there looking at him like he a psycho. His smirk turns into a frown, her question feeling like a kick to his gut that left an immediate bruise to his ego. In his twenty-six years of life he’s never had anyone not who he was. For second, Aiden falls silent as his brain tries to process how this was possible. If she wasn’t so fucking convincing, he’d think she was kidding. As she slips away, he can’t help but follow. He’s not dumb enough to try and touch her, but he’s trying to catch up and talk to her as she briskly walks away. “Wait...you seriously don’t remember me?” Aiden looks completely baffled, feeling that question is setting himself up for another rejection. “At the club...last weekend...you were dancing with me...kinda before you disappeared.” He reiterates, trying to job her memory.
callmespence:
Spence cocks his head. Some guy’s insulting him, and his hands form fists, but he forces himself to relax, licking his top lip and taking a breath. Fucking breathing, as if that ever solved anything. “Yeah, I don’t see it either. I’m way better looking. And I don’t wear my hair like a dick.” He scrapes fingers through his hair. “Spence. You always this rude, or is it the party atmosphere?”
“I wouldn’t say better looking but I can get how someone would find a twelve year old adorable. Kinda like a puppy.” Aiden chuckles, unable to stop himself from teasing the stranger. If the other was going to dish out insults, he could easily hand them back in return. “Pretty much always this rude. I’d blame the hair, it gives me an excuse to be a dick.”
frankie-calhoun:
STARTER || AIDEN CALHOUN (@aidencalhoun)
Franklin Calhoun did not take much pride in his name - it wasn’t that he was ashamed, per se, but he didn’t like the attention it brought upon him in Vegas. The Calhouns were a big deal, and Frankie preferred the low-key identity he’d cultivated for himself. Tonight was one of the biggest nights for his family, the charity gala being something he remembered being planned for months before anything actually happened. Every instinct in his brain had told him to stay away, but somehow, he’d found himself grabbing his old press pass (with some creative fudging on his last name) and sneaking in one of the side entrances. Old habits died hard, and he still remembered his family’s haunt well.
Avoiding the main areas where people congregated was a good strategy - at least to start with. Eventually, though, curiosity once again drove him past his comfort zone, and he edged closer inward towards the groups of people, all dressed in their best.
Of course, Frankie had never had good luck. Period. So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when he turned around, trying to avoid a woman in a particularly expensive looking dress, that he saw, unavoidably face to face, someone he hadn’t seen but only in his social media profiles: his brother Aiden. It was too late to run, and as he met his brother’s intense gaze Frankie couldn’t help but pale, standing frozen.
“Ah-ah-aiden,” he stammered, staring. “I, uh…I…”
The night was going on without a hitch. Money was being thrown around both for charitable reasons and for profit. The crowd upstairs were eating the entire event up, press clamoring over the various high profile guests who were signing checks for a good cause. Downstairs, those same people were wasting away their savings on various indulgences. As Aiden lingered around the main party since it was only a matter of time before the Calhoun family gathered around for speeches and photos, he was nursing a drink at a cocktail table when he spots a face he hasn’t seen in years.
It was hard not to notice Frankie----his older brother large in stature that he sticks out like a sore thumb. Aiden had eyes and ears everywhere, he knew Franklin was back in town but he made no attempts to make contact. If Franklin didn’t want to see him, then he wasn’t going to bother. The second Franklin practically abandoned the family, his intentions were clear. “You lost?” His words are cold as he takes a sip from his glass, raising a brow. “Thought you were too good for these things and wouldn’t be caught dead at one.”
Dacre Montgomery’s Instagram story [September 8th 2017]