Um…i have no idea honestly. I watched some history channel thing on Wild West Prostitutes and this was born.They are…prostitutes that moonlight as vigilantes…and feminists.
This isn’t the finished piece, but i’ve found the caption for it.
"Apply a rosy blush to the apples of your cheeks. This will give you a youthful and innocent appearance so that you’ll still look cute even when you’re covered int he blood of a thousand men."
BUT ARETEMIS LOOKS LIKE POCAHONTAS AND I FUCKING CAN’T. I’M DYING
"He grasps her hand and leads her into the empty planetarium, firing up the projections, just like in an old movie she saw once. The stars shift tirelessly around them and when he kisses her, all of the planets inhale and emerge."
My name is Wally West and by age fourteen I know I’m trapped…locked into a future that’s one dark tunnel of sorrow and despair. A life sentence waiting to be served. But then the impossible happens. Thanks my Aunt Iris, I meet my hero, The Flash. And in one split-second my tomorrows, every last one of them, are transformed from a single bolt of lightning. Now and forever I’m fast…I’m free…and nothing will ever hold me back.
"I guess I just don’t get it," Zatanna says frankly, setting her glass of lemonade down hard on the surface of the restaurant table.
Artemis glances up sharply at the sound, which only makes Zatanna’s shoulders slacken as she looks at her with pity and worry and a host of other things that Zatanna shouldn’t be feeling. The summer breeze ripples over the striped awning above their heads and rustles at Artemis’s hair, now cropped boyishly short (every extra inch had been one Wally’s fingers wouldn’t go through).
Um…to be fair, I drew this before rereading the scene but…jfc.
So many god damn feelings. I haven’t drawn YJ in forever. So, just a little diddy for my muse.