
nff.
(Source: lmnpnch, via fuckyeahgirlcrush)
There was a time, not very long ago, where we lived in an enchanted world of elegant palaces and grand parties. The year was 1916, and my son, Nicholas, was the czar of Imperial Russia.
Anastasia (1997)
(Source: stannisbaratheon, via igotiraq)
THUNDERTHIGHS
Now that we’ve demonstrated that I am wildly liberal and politically angry, back to our regularly scheduled artwork. Thank you for bearing the brunt of my art block.
This is an amalgamation of two things: my need to see body diversity in art, and my recently discovered love for poster making. I never understood why ‘thunder thighs’ was an insult. It sounds powerful to me. Reminiscent of an almighty, unstoppable ruckus in the clouds, a veritable fucking rock show of giants, Bikini Kill on amps the size of mountains.
Thunder thighs, huh? I can dig it.
I dig them thunder thighs.
(via chubby-bunnies)