#pt1

plug!choso physically cannot eat unless he's high (if it isn't the consequences of our own actions smh)

plug!choso and his sleeper build

plug!choso with his baggy clothes that have the smell of smoke embedded in the thread and leather designer boots

plug!choso who smokes so much he coughs when he laughs too hard

plug!choso and his lips that are dry from sucking on a blunt too much, constantly licking his lips, tongue like sandpaper someone get this kid some vaseline

plug!choso who does nOT play about oral hygiene. floss, brush (electric toothbrush of course), and mouth wash; in that order. repeats twice a day. everyday. (sometimes even thrice in a day)

plug!choso who has every tea under the sun stuffed in a kitchen cabinet that helps to ease throat pain or "clears" the lungs

plug!choso with the prettiest brown eyes that glow a melting chocolate when he holds the lighter close to his face in order to set his addiction ablaze

plug!choso who's oral fixation goes crazzyyyyy.

plug!choso where if he doesn’t have a blunt in his mouth, then he’s sucking on a lollipop or a cigarette or pussy

plug!choso used to bite his nails, but now he kinda grows them out. to roll better blunts with. no other reason...

plug!choso has hair ties in abundance. always one adorning his wrist, littered around his room, and stuffed at the bottom of his bags

plug!choso with a voice low and gravely, hoarse from years of smoking

plug!choso where people think he smokes so much because he’s emotionally stunted. nah — just the opposite. he smokes so much because he feels too much  

plug!choso who devours your pussy like a man starved, even (especially) when you’re bleeding. begs for you to let him. 

plug!choso who's dealing to help pay his way through art school

plug!choso's the definition of he doesn't even go here when he visits his friend's uni

plug!choso that actually really, really likes glassblowing as a hobby because he can make his own bongs, pipes, dab rings, etc. (he sells those too if you're interested... no pressure (total pressure))

plug!choso actually gets sick often; especially in the winter and it's like 15 degrees fahrenheit and that motherfucker is still out on the balcony with a cigarette between his (numb) fingers

plug!choso hates vaping and its fruity allure. he might be addicted but he's not that addicted. at least that is what he tells himself

plug!choso has to force himself to go on tolerance breaks for months at a time

plug!choso who never, and i mean never, does freebies (except maybe as birthday gifts for close friends). and especially not for sexual favors! (maybe a discount but that's besides the point)

plug!choso has a business to run, quotas to meet and bills to pay

plug!choso who first meets you at yuki's house party. he deserves to have some fun too! (or at least that's what his friends said to convince him to go)

plug!choso's initial impression of you is... inconsequential

plug!choso who is borderline accosted by you when he goes outside to get some air and smoke a cigarette

plug!choso's leaning back against the brick wall of the townhouse, his eyes closed in serenity as he takes a drag, smoke billowing around him. the very picture of tranquility (he has to blink his eyes really fast when they water from the sting of the smoke). the bass from the speakers reverberates outside, but it's distant. detached from the moment; background music

plug!choso who heaves a heavy sigh when you come stumbling out the front door, barely making it a few steps before retching into the bushes in next to him.

plug!choso hates vomit and oh my god does it smell and it has the repugnant color of---- he abruptly angles his body away, nausea curdling in his stomach and up his throat. he'll be the next one to throw up if he isn't careful. don't get him wrong, it's not as if he hasn't seen someone throw up before.... but that doesn't mean it isn't unsettling everytime

plug!choso offering you the hair tie from his wrist in silence when you take a pause. you look up at him from your bent position, eyes hazy and glossed over; only just now realizing he was even there

plug!choso looking at you from the corner of his eye, his body still facing in the opposite direction, as you tentatively take the tie from his cold hands. your fingers brush for a mere moment, and you mumble out a cracked "thank you" before pulling your hair back.

plug!choso who remains still, nonverbal, when you stand on shaky knees after finishing. does he leave? give you space? ask if you are okay? no, that would be dumb, it's obvious you're not! and he was here first! you are sniffling, rubbing your mouth and nose along your wrist, like you're trying to wipe away the sudden embarrassment that washes over you.

plug!choso has to keep the surprise from spreading across his face when you speak. he hadn't expected you to address him at all, especially not in your condition. your voice is hoarse and low from the strain of vomiting, almost shy, when you ask if you could bum a cigarette. he pauses for a moment, simply staring at you with eyebrows raised, and then the corner of his lips quiver into a small, amused smile.

plug!choso huffing out a small chuckle, but is reaching into the pocket of his jean jacket all the same. he pulls out a cartridge with red adornment, flips open the flimsy lid, and plucks two fresh white rolls of tobacco. he hands one out in silence, and you extract it from his palm with a step closer in his direction.

plug!choso and the black lighter with scratches and faded strawberry sticker that goes everywhere with him. unhooking the carabiner from which it dangles on his belt loop, he motions you to move forward so that he might light it for you

plug!choso wrapping his chapped lips around the end of his own and watches when you tentatively do the same.

plug!choso who meets your eyes, lashes dewy from the event, across the glow of the flame as he ignites both simultaneously. drawing back, and leaning against the cold brick of the townhouse once more, he allows himself to drag his heavy eyes up and down your form; taking you in.

plug!choso noticing with interest that you're slightly swaying as you stand, still obviously drunk despite emptying the contents of your stomach. your hands shake as you inhale; smoke curling in the silence between the two of you

plug!choso freezing in complete and utter abject horror as you proceed to then abruptly bend over and... throw up all over his shoes