#rahikumar

[crimsonfaux]

oliver - is rahi your sexiest friend? yes or yes

[silverncrimson]

anne hathaway

Jolie Carmichael. She is Diamond’s social media manager, and one of the key members of her PR team. She helps Diamond run her Instagram, Youtube channel, Twitter and other social media platforms. Jolie and Dime work closely together on a daily basis, putting together amazing edits, posts and other campaign threads that they release to the public via social media. Without Jolie’s help, Diamond’s sm would have likely been a shit-show of drunken photos and sloppy model shots and selfies. She’s the person behind all the really good social posts.

[crimsonfaux]

🎅oliver and rahi!

X

[levmovska]

"Come the fuck on. Did you see that guy? I'm fucking—" From the second they boarded the bus, Lev had barely been able to contain himself. He'd lit a joint half an hour before this, and it hit fast. Good for them, but not so much for the people running this fucking tour. First thing that had managed to fuck him up was the over-sized, red suit. Pinstriped. Matching fucking hat. Bad Chicago accent. Truly, the gift that would keep fucking giving. Seated at the back of the bus, he's hoping to hide the hysterics. This isn't exactly the kind of history shit he's used to learning about, or has even really studied— except that one thing, that one time, back in February. It'd been a work of art. Head turned, he's tries to hide his quiet hysterics from their host for the fucking ride but fuck. "Why did you talk me into this, man?" That's his story, and he's sticking to it. So when you hear shots— Lev's whisper-talking over him, "Did we bring snacks? Are we placing bets on some theatrics? I’m gonna bet that Paulie Rocco is going to kill Little fucking John in broad fucking daylight.”

@rahikumar

[levmovska]

📞 for a VOICEMAIL for Vik

"Мама. Подбирать, Подбирать, Подбирать— fuck." He sighs, leaning his head back into the seat, both hands on the wheel. The car is idling. Lev doesn't want to go. He's tired, and has said far too many fucking goodbyes at this point. "Alright. It's okay." Heavy lids hang over dark blues, his thoughts running a mile a minute. "Мама. I think... I think I know why they chose him." How many times has Lev expressed this concern? If only his ego were a little bigger, he might just throw in an I told you so. "But hey, at least I made it to thirty, right? Um.. listen. I'm real sorry, but I don't have a choice in this. Know I made some promises to you that I couldn't keep. Real sorry you're going to have to bury your favorite son— don't actually bury me. My plans are uh... they're laid out, already." This is a feat he'd never considered, despite knowing that his days have been perpetually numbered. Stones stack atop his lungs, clammy hands tremble despite the white knuckled grip he keeps on the wheel. "I'm not ready," comes the whispered lament. "Fuck. Uh... you know I used to tell people I was your kid? Like, actually your kid? It's always been kind of a joke between us but there were times I actually insisted it was true."

Eyes open as a text comes through to his phone, though he doesn't bother to look at it. "I don't need to tell you what to do, Мама. I know you'll uh.. you'll make sure everything is the way it should be." A slow exhale. "Я люблю тебя."

[levmovska]

📞 for a VOICEMAIL for Rahi

"Hey, Sugar Pie. Thanks for not picking up. Seriously. I mean that. It's hard enough, like this." Deep breath. "Listen, I'm going away for a while. Not really set in stone, but.. it's pretty set in fucking stone. So uh, here's the deal. I trust you with this, and I hope it's not too fucking weird but... scatter my fucking ashes in space? It's weird. But. I have my reasons, so don't get judgy and shit." Beat. Slow exhale; a quiet hum. "I know you hate hearing it but uh, you are the only person I know who actually has their shit together and I really fucking admire that. You’re the best of all of us. Do what makes you happy, man. I mean that. Um.. thank you, for keeping me honest." Beat. "Also uh.. I know you hate not knowing, so yes on the freckles. And fuck off, for asking that." Quiet laugh. "I love you."

[revelaare]

📲 for a TEXT to Lee (Kon)

text, sent 1:32pm: i knew you’d come around text, sent 1:33pm: you’ve exposed yourself, you’ve been pining for me

@leemalkovich

[levmovska]

If someone told him he'd be getting on a tiny ass fucking plane without a fucking clue how that shit works aside from pure fucking magic, Lev Vasile would tell them to fuck off. Yet here he is, two pills in at Illinois Aviation. It's taken the edge off, but there are too many layers to numb it all away. More than his fear of heights and subsequent fear of death, he is too terrified of loss to be aware. He should know better by now. Rahi is too good to be gone from his life over something so simple and obvious— but fuck, how much does he really know? How much will Lev have to tell him? This plane is a confessional, and his sins are many. "Going to be hard to top a date like this, Sugar Pie." Start with humor. Deflect from the anxiety, ignore the gentle tremor in his hands. These fucking pills were supposed to help with the fucking nerves. He'd been promised cloud nine, and he's at a solid fucking two right now. This plane is fucking tiny. Smaller than he had imagined. Probably going to feel every little bump in the air, gust of wind— will it withstand a bird? Focus, he tells himself. A quiet hum sounds, sights tearing away from the object of his soon-to-be nightmares and instead focusing on one of the few with whom he'd trust his life. Why is there an apology on his tongue? His arms lift slightly, opening in silent offer— perhaps even request— for a hug. Might be the last he ever gets if accepted, all things considered. And before everything changes... "You uh.. you get the job?"

@rahikumar