Friends, I’m posting this message only on Tumblr: I will no longer publish MCR related fanart publicly. I simply can’t handle the constant negativity anymore. I’ve been posting comics and illustrations for free for a year. I loved sharing them with you, but I’m tired of the negativity. I’ve discussed this with many artists and creators in the fandom, many have had enough or have simply left. I no longer have the emotional energy to deal with all this, so I’m stepping away. It brings me no joy to see people getting angry over an album remaster or getting insulted because I didn’t (or any other artist) draw Gerard well enough. I’ve grown alongside you for a year, it was great!! but I’m tired of dealing with constantly angry people. My comics will remain available for free in PDF format, as will the Better Life site. It was a great experience. I might come back once things have settled down and the atmosphere is calmer. Thanks again! I love you all!
how it feels when you're reading a fic and a character you love is mischaracterized so horrendously to the point where it's not even them but everyone in the comments love it
CHOSO PUPPYBOY X READER!!! (NSFW: MINORS DNI!) (NEUTRAL BODY LANGUAGE) (Choso x Anyone!)+Terrible fanart at the end!
Don't you DARE interact with this if you aren't old enough, I will TELL YOUR GUARDIAN.
Word count: 1.4k
WARNING: this is lowk supposed to be semi-silly, please don't take it seriously I wrote this in 1 take
(Not super graphic, I might make a more serious version later)
TAGS (in order which they appear): Allusion to Choso's Bad Past, Yearning, Oral S*x (Reader Receiving)
Getting absolutely demolished by your puppyboy curse hybrid wasn't on today's agenda, but it was coming eventually~!
(≧▽≦)♪～(´ε｀ )
EEEEEEEK!!! Could you ever get a peaceful morning when you needed one? Sounds of ripping corduroy echo down the hall tell you otherwise, and you immediately know who to blame. Choso Kamo, the half-curse puppyboy hybrid, some kind of mutt (the vet said maybe a bit of Bernese mountain dog, and way too much of some unknown herding breed), was a moody pet to say the least. Although his only canine attributes were a wagging tail, a pair of upright, cautious ears and slightly curled nails, he had a habit of adapting whatever he saw real dogs doing on the TV. His newest obsession, you found out with absolute horror that sunny morning, was shredding your furniture.
You storm down the hallway, feet cold in the crisp morning air, scowling as you spot him. 6'2, sitting on the couch in a rather human position holding a chunk of the cushion in his mouth, eyes wide and guilty. He looked ridiculous. He looked human, for a death womb painting.
"What the fuck, Choso?" You hiss, staring at the ruins of the cheap couch you got on Facebook Marketplace. It was free and a strange color of blood orange, but looking at it in shambles made you feel maternal. "I don't care that you have a damn tail, you're not hybrid enough to be doing this shit! Oh for-" You whip around to face the TV, your newest victim, which was blaring reruns Animal Planet, that one nature show. "STOP WATCHING THE DOG DOCUMENTARIES!" You whine, throwing your hands up in frustration. The firm resolution falters in your voice as you realize how ridiculous the entire situation is. The way you got him (found him when on one of your sorcerer missions, shivering and oh-so-stupidly stray), the comic way he was dribbling onto the chunk of couch padding, and especially the way you wanted to stomp your ass back down the hallway and SCREAM into your pillow and maybe storm right back and kiss hi---wait WHAAAT???
He stares back, a small glint of pride in his gooey brown eyes. Oops. He lets the soggy chunk of cushion fall to his lap, the smallest of grins spreading on his face as he picks it up, tail between his legs, and drops it in the trashcan. He's almost trembling, the poor guy, but don't let it fool you. It's adrenaline pumping through his body that's making his leg twitch and his tail wag nervously. It's adrenaline making his soft cheeks glow, cueing the big drop of sweat to start crawling down his chin, it's the adrenaline that makes him adjust his pants, hand gripping the jean material as he shifts himself to the left.
It's just the stress.
"Choso, you...you can't eat my furniture, I was fine with your stuffed animal phase, because I can replace those, but that's my *couch*, and my friend is coming over later and-" you start, but his expression hushes you. He speaks, slow and cautious.
"I can pay for it, I can get a new one-" he starts in a room-temperature tone, voice getting higher and higher as "-I can buy a hundred couches! I can get you the prettiest one, I can fix up this one, I can-" his voice is reaching the crescendo, words slurring and "-I can do anything just please don't kick me out-"
You gawk.
"I'm not, I wouldn't do that, Choso-" you sputter, dumbfounded, caught in the tension of the moment. "Holy shit, c'mere, it's ok, the couch was practically free anyways-" you hold out your arms, beckoning him away from the trashcan in the corner "C'mere, Cho-" he leans his heavy head against you, tail finally stilling.
And that's how life was for a few weeks. A small incident, scolding, and forgiveness. Then, Choso started to change. He would ask for animal possessions, instead of exhibiting behaviors. Asking for a leash with a tag ("Can it be blue?") and begging for you to trim his pinkish nails, or hinting that you should brush his hair. Choso was becoming more comfortable, just like the vet said. He was neutered, he was microchipped.
How perfect.
Except for one night when you got home from work, opening the door to a dark apartment.
"Choso?" You call out nervously, flicking the light on, the comforting appearance of your dwelling bringing you slight ease. Nothing was out of place. You set your bag down and tread lightly down the hall, knocking on the door to the guest room, his room. No response. You knock on the bathroom door, and Choso lets out a panicked sound, hastily turning on the shower. "I'm--taking a shower!" He yells over the sound of the now rushing water. You roll your eyes, not putting much thought into it. A change of clothes later, you find yourself lounging on the repaired couch, watching one of your favorites. The bathroom door opens with a click, and steam gently swirls about as he steps through.
Choso's wobbling slightly, wearing a tank top and some shorts, his wet feet leaving a trail down the hallway, tail dripping. You sit up, making a noncoherent sound in protest, gesturing behind him with a limp hand. He doesn't turn around, making a determined path towards the couch. He hits his shin on the coffee table and slumps onto the couch next to you, just a few inches away, pouting and huffing.
What a pain. 898
"Choso, the floor-" you start, before getting sprayed by the mist coming off of his fiercely wagging tail. "Dude-" you say, wondering what got into him. You pause. What a weird way to think about it. He's not truly a pet or animal, more of a roommate. You correct your thought to 'I wonder what's wrong with him?'. There. Better. He lets out a small whine and buries his face into the cushion of the couch, tail still wagging wildly as he's sprawled out, his upper half sprawled on you. You comb your fingers through Choso's hair in a practiced motion, wondering what the fuck was wrong with him. You feel his heart pounding against your thighs, and feel his tail beating the spot next to you.
"Choso?" You murmur, combing his hair back from his ears, off his burning hot neck. You frown. "Whats-" he sits up, a small bit, burying his face between your thighs instead, hot breath caressing your sensitive spots like a gentle touch. You shiver. You had thoughts before but it was such a blurred line, was he-
"Mhmgg...what....?" He mumbles, pushing his nose further, getting way too close to the spot. "hah...you..." He looks up, needy eyes. "...Please can I..."
You pause, before you offer a slow nod.
Choso shakes his head, "Let me finish!" He hisses. He clearly remembered the lesson you taught him about getting consent in any situation. "Can I please touch you...down here?" He asks quietly, tail wagging proudly.
It takes everything in you not to chuckle. Hey, consent is sexy.
"Please do."
He pushes his nose up against your sensitive nerves, prodding, curious. Choso, being a total virgin, doesn't quite grasp the concept of providing pleasure as more than something in a medical textbook, so he's simply exploring in his mind.
"Choso-" your voice deepens a bit as your hands, ever steady, push his head further towards your pulse.
Tail wags furiously.
Hours pass, and you feel like you can't go any longer, getting toyed with, brought the edge again and again, sweet release looming over you like his sweet kiss. Fortunately, Choso's too sweet to truly deny you pleasure, so finishing was not a matter of if, but when.
If there was one thing you could always appreciate about your hybrid, he was always determined.
OOOH MY UNFINISHED FANART YAYYY I DREW THIS I DREW THIS EHEHEHEH
Shameless self plug, my art account is hibi-art-00 on here and hibi.art.00 on insta but you will find 0 images of Choso jorking it on there, sorry guys 💔💔
CHOSO PUPPYBOY X READER!!! (NSFW: MINORS DNI!) (NEUTRAL BODY LANGUAGE) (Choso x Anyone!)+Terrible fanart at the end!
Don't you DARE interact with this if you aren't old enough, I will TELL YOUR GUARDIAN.
Word count: 1.4k
WARNING: this is lowk supposed to be semi-silly, please don't take it seriously I wrote this in 1 take
(Not super graphic, I might make a more serious version later)
TAGS (in order which they appear): Allusion to Choso's Bad Past, Yearning, Oral S*x (Reader Receiving)
Getting absolutely demolished by your puppyboy curse hybrid wasn't on today's agenda, but it was coming eventually~!
(≧▽≦)♪～(´ε｀ )
EEEEEEEK!!! Could you ever get a peaceful morning when you needed one? Sounds of ripping corduroy echo down the hall tell you otherwise, and you immediately know who to blame. Choso Kamo, the half-curse puppyboy hybrid, some kind of mutt (the vet said maybe a bit of Bernese mountain dog, and way too much of some unknown herding breed), was a moody pet to say the least. Although his only canine attributes were a wagging tail, a pair of upright, cautious ears and slightly curled nails, he had a habit of adapting whatever he saw real dogs doing on the TV. His newest obsession, you found out with absolute horror that sunny morning, was shredding your furniture.
You storm down the hallway, feet cold in the crisp morning air, scowling as you spot him. 6'2, sitting on the couch in a rather human position holding a chunk of the cushion in his mouth, eyes wide and guilty. He looked ridiculous. He looked human, for a death womb painting.
"What the fuck, Choso?" You hiss, staring at the ruins of the cheap couch you got on Facebook Marketplace. It was free and a strange color of blood orange, but looking at it in shambles made you feel maternal. "I don't care that you have a damn tail, you're not hybrid enough to be doing this shit! Oh for-" You whip around to face the TV, your newest victim, which was blaring reruns Animal Planet, that one nature show. "STOP WATCHING THE DOG DOCUMENTARIES!" You whine, throwing your hands up in frustration. The firm resolution falters in your voice as you realize how ridiculous the entire situation is. The way you got him (found him when on one of your sorcerer missions, shivering and oh-so-stupidly stray), the comic way he was dribbling onto the chunk of couch padding, and especially the way you wanted to stomp your ass back down the hallway and SCREAM into your pillow and maybe storm right back and kiss hi---wait WHAAAT???
He stares back, a small glint of pride in his gooey brown eyes. Oops. He lets the soggy chunk of cushion fall to his lap, the smallest of grins spreading on his face as he picks it up, tail between his legs, and drops it in the trashcan. He's almost trembling, the poor guy, but don't let it fool you. It's adrenaline pumping through his body that's making his leg twitch and his tail wag nervously. It's adrenaline making his soft cheeks glow, cueing the big drop of sweat to start crawling down his chin, it's the adrenaline that makes him adjust his pants, hand gripping the jean material as he shifts himself to the left.
It's just the stress.
"Choso, you...you can't eat my furniture, I was fine with your stuffed animal phase, because I can replace those, but that's my *couch*, and my friend is coming over later and-" you start, but his expression hushes you. He speaks, slow and cautious.
"I can pay for it, I can get a new one-" he starts in a room-temperature tone, voice getting higher and higher as "-I can buy a hundred couches! I can get you the prettiest one, I can fix up this one, I can-" his voice is reaching the crescendo, words slurring and "-I can do anything just please don't kick me out-"
You gawk.
"I'm not, I wouldn't do that, Choso-" you sputter, dumbfounded, caught in the tension of the moment. "Holy shit, c'mere, it's ok, the couch was practically free anyways-" you hold out your arms, beckoning him away from the trashcan in the corner "C'mere, Cho-" he leans his heavy head against you, tail finally stilling.
And that's how life was for a few weeks. A small incident, scolding, and forgiveness. Then, Choso started to change. He would ask for animal possessions, instead of exhibiting behaviors. Asking for a leash with a tag ("Can it be blue?") and begging for you to trim his pinkish nails, or hinting that you should brush his hair. Choso was becoming more comfortable, just like the vet said. He was neutered, he was microchipped.
How perfect.
Except for one night when you got home from work, opening the door to a dark apartment.
"Choso?" You call out nervously, flicking the light on, the comforting appearance of your dwelling bringing you slight ease. Nothing was out of place. You set your bag down and tread lightly down the hall, knocking on the door to the guest room, his room. No response. You knock on the bathroom door, and Choso lets out a panicked sound, hastily turning on the shower. "I'm--taking a shower!" He yells over the sound of the now rushing water. You roll your eyes, not putting much thought into it. A change of clothes later, you find yourself lounging on the repaired couch, watching one of your favorites. The bathroom door opens with a click, and steam gently swirls about as he steps through.
Choso's wobbling slightly, wearing a tank top and some shorts, his wet feet leaving a trail down the hallway, tail dripping. You sit up, making a noncoherent sound in protest, gesturing behind him with a limp hand. He doesn't turn around, making a determined path towards the couch. He hits his shin on the coffee table and slumps onto the couch next to you, just a few inches away, pouting and huffing.
What a pain. 898
"Choso, the floor-" you start, before getting sprayed by the mist coming off of his fiercely wagging tail. "Dude-" you say, wondering what got into him. You pause. What a weird way to think about it. He's not truly a pet or animal, more of a roommate. You correct your thought to 'I wonder what's wrong with him?'. There. Better. He lets out a small whine and buries his face into the cushion of the couch, tail still wagging wildly as he's sprawled out, his upper half sprawled on you. You comb your fingers through Choso's hair in a practiced motion, wondering what the fuck was wrong with him. You feel his heart pounding against your thighs, and feel his tail beating the spot next to you.
"Choso?" You murmur, combing his hair back from his ears, off his burning hot neck. You frown. "Whats-" he sits up, a small bit, burying his face between your thighs instead, hot breath caressing your sensitive spots like a gentle touch. You shiver. You had thoughts before but it was such a blurred line, was he-
"Mhmgg...what....?" He mumbles, pushing his nose further, getting way too close to the spot. "hah...you..." He looks up, needy eyes. "...Please can I..."
You pause, before you offer a slow nod.
Choso shakes his head, "Let me finish!" He hisses. He clearly remembered the lesson you taught him about getting consent in any situation. "Can I please touch you...down here?" He asks quietly, tail wagging proudly.
It takes everything in you not to chuckle. Hey, consent is sexy.
"Please do."
He pushes his nose up against your sensitive nerves, prodding, curious. Choso, being a total virgin, doesn't quite grasp the concept of providing pleasure as more than something in a medical textbook, so he's simply exploring in his mind.
"Choso-" your voice deepens a bit as your hands, ever steady, push his head further towards your pulse.
Tail wags furiously.
Hours pass, and you feel like you can't go any longer, getting toyed with, brought the edge again and again, sweet release looming over you like his sweet kiss. Fortunately, Choso's too sweet to truly deny you pleasure, so finishing was not a matter of if, but when.
If there was one thing you could always appreciate about your hybrid, he was always determined.
OOOH MY UNFINISHED FANART YAYYY I DREW THIS I DREW THIS EHEHEHEH
Shameless self plug, my art account is hibi-art-00 on here and hibi.art.00 on insta but you will find 0 images of Choso jorking it on there, sorry guys 💔💔
