#dadbod roy

(Art by Rick Mays)

And yes half of that was because of my belly kink and the other half was from wanting some goddamn variety when it comes to attractive males in comics.

(Art by Levy Rasputin)

But aside from a couple of friends I felt no one else cared about this idea or even liked it. Pretty much all the artwork I have are commissions, art requests, and birthday gifts. I’ve even approached professional comic artists who’ve worked on Roy in the past, like Paul Pelletier and Drew Johnson and Rick Mays and George FREAKING Perez. I’ve only ever gotten feedback on the idea when I’ve asked other people and I’ve barely, rarely found others who would do something with the concept.

Then this happened.

I’ve made no secret I want to write professionally for DC Comics someday, and I especially want to write about Roy AND Lian AND I would love to write him having a rounder, chubbier build. But I’ve felt that would never happen because it’s so... alien and unlikely. You know DC’s higher ups practically seethe at trying different shit like this, and when I say “Different” I mean stuff that doesn’t involve mutilation and drugs and dead cats.

And then this happened.

AND THIS THIS HAPPENED.

I HAVE A CANON CHUBBY ROY IN AT LEAST ONE FORMAT. WHO IS ALSO A DAD WITH A DAUGHTER WHO’S NOT DEAD. AND HE’S STILL ATTRACTIVE. AND A HERO EVEN IF HE’S RETIRED.

Even with how open I tend to be about my kink I still feel self conscious about it because it involves characters who are rarely used in such scenarios. But seeing this makes me feel like I’m less of a freak, and that maybe my ideas aren’t so stupid or gross after all and I might actually be able to DO SOMETHING with the concept in a professional situation.

So Will Harper having a dad bod has been a genuine improvement on my self esteem and makes me feel more comfortable about myself as a writer, an asexual, and a human being.

Artemis staggered into the house, ripping her mask off and dropping it on the floor. She slumped down onto the couch and put her hands over her face. She was pretty sure her hair was smoking and would have to start removing shrapnel at some point.

Will, dressed in his pajamas, didn’t even look up from the late movie he was watching on the TV as Artemis sank down next to him.

“Rough mission?” He asked as he lowered the volume.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” she moaned. “Lian asleep?”

“Tucked her in an hour ago.”

“You have work tomorrow?”

“Day off. Taking her to the zoo to see the penguins. Wanna join us?”

“Another mission. In,” she looked at the clock on her phone. “Five hours.”

“Ouch. Want a snack before you go?”

“I’m not gonna be looking at food for a long time,” Artemis continued to moan. “After today I now know what they put in hot dogs. Spoiler alert: it has too many legs.”

“That reminds me we need to go grocery shopping.”

“You think I can just scream into your midsection for a few moments?” Artemis asked.

“Again?”

“It was a long mission.”

“Go ahead.”

Artemis, much as it pained her to move, sprawled over Will and buried her face in his stomach. At which point she began screaming. Will patted her head in sympathy.

“That’s it, just let it out. ...you’re not letting go, are you.”