#playboyrick

[playboy-rick]

“Blowing smoke”

OOC:Sorry for the inactivity been busy with life and honestly the R&M hit a wall so I’ve mostly been giving off tumblr, I do plan on posting and trying to throw some content up for you guys ❤️❤️❤️

[palerick]

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹ 𝔓𝔩𝔞𝔶𝔅𝔬𝔶 ℜ𝔦𝔠𝔨 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔢𝔯 ‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹

{Closed starter for @playboy-rick}

Slipping away from his date Pastel was hopping he could ditch this loser. The moron had already paid him and there was no reason why he couldn't just use the excuse that he lost them in the crowd.

The dancer wasn't even sure where he was. Some distant planet's version of a mall? Marketplace? He could hear the sounds of an arcade and even signs for a bowling alley. Drifting through the crowd he tired his best to get a lost as physically possible. easily weaving through the mass of people until he ended up outside a drink stand, it's neon sign illuminating the dark hallway.

With a smile Pastel looked back and considered the plan of losing his date a success. Before he could turn forward he could feel himself crash into another body. His feet loosing balance with his heels the next thing he knew his was looking at the ceiling with his back aching from the impact. With a small groan Pastel sat up, about to tear into whoever knock him over before he realized who it was.

"Playboy?" Pastel blinked. "Smooth moves. If you wanted to knock me off my feet, you could be a little more gentle about it." He snickered before out stretching his hands to the other man, gesturing him to help him up.

[playboy-rick]

Just smoking, yes I know they’ll kill me, but hey can’t help it 🤷‍♂️

[palerick]

"😭"

-find your muse crying

@playboy-rick

It was late and Pastel had one too many things go wrong this night. He had gotten back to the club from a particularly rough date and the last thing he wanted to do was be on the floor. Still, when Rosy told him they were short his work drive couldn't allow him to do anything but fill in the needed help at the club.

Hours passed and Pastel was rubbed raw by the clients that night. Normally, being around other Rick's doesn't get to him but after hours of insults and the humiliating date he was dragged through he lost it. Breaking glasses and spraying one of the Ricks at the bar with the water spray. Then crashing it over their head like a whip, before storming out of the club.

Crashing his back against the brick side of his building he could feel the emotion bubbling up inside him. "Fuck-- No!" He hissed at himself, but it was too late. Tears flowed from his eyes and down his cheeks. Shoulders shaking he thumped his fist against the wall he was parked up against. Silently he cried, trembling hands pressed against his wet eyes as if he could make it stop by simply ignoring it.

Then the sound of footsteps echoed in the alleyway and Pastel tried his best to compose himself. With a huff he turned his damp gaze onto the person to was approaching. Eyes blazing like embers were dulled by the redness around them, a weak attempted for him to look anything other than pathetic.

"What the hell do you want?"