#replica channel

[valtsv]

i keep thinking about digital ghosts. or maybe digital hauntings would be a better term. the final messages shared between you and someone you no longer speak to, for whatever reason. a webpage, or blog post, or inactive profile on a social media forum that you still return to sometimes, no longer even hoping for something to have changed, just to remember, like returning to a grave year after year. video and audio recordings of people who've left your life that you play back over and over until the tape wears out. in the realm of the more fantastical, maybe a hologram that bears their likeness but only a pale, shallow imitation of their complexity, their personality, or an AI or other imperfect replica built on a lifetime of data collected from them that only reinforces their absence but is all you have left to remember (or replace until you forget the difference) them by. all these records that they existed that will inevitably only last as long as the technology that supports them takes to become obsolete, or the data corrupts and begins to break down, or the archives storing it are no longer hosted anywhere. you haven't cheated death, or the grief that comes with losing someone. you've just prolonged it.

[jellicle-chants]

Not sure if anyone has ever thought up an Old West/late 19th century Cats non-rep, but boy, do I have a regional production for you:

There's a few other videos from the show on the channel, but otherwise I have no info about who staged this or when. I am incredibly charmed by the costumes, though.

[expressionless-fr]

You know a biome is dangerous when there are no traces of illagers in it

[soweirdondisney]

Boettner_builds on Instagram started a LEGO replica of the Molly Phillips tour bus in March 2021.

First post - March 6, 2021

Update - March 14, 2021

Another Update - March 20, 2021

This month, in a new update, Boettner shared that they recently got custom stickers made to add to the project and it looks phenomenal.

"The Molly Phillips So Weird tour bus is 99% done!!" (x)

[sparklyslug]

Eh. It’s red white and blue. So.

[cupcakeslushie]

Kappa when he’s with his family, or anyone else in the Council: Life is pain. Every day is a nightmare with you all. Im exhausted.

Kappa when in the Presence™️ of Replica Leo: tiny kitten.img

Really EW!Leo is channeling me here lol. It really was so cool to play this last round with @kathaynesart and go up against @dianagj-art, @intotheelliwoods, and @tizeline! Everyone enjoy their pizza!

[pucksandpower]

Borrowed Time

Charles Leclerc x single mother!Reader

Summary: you do everything in your power to make your sick son’s dream come true but what you don’t realize is that meeting his hero will change all of your lives forever

Warnings: terminal illness and death

“You know what would be the coolest, Mama?” The soft voice of your son, Luca, breaks through the silence of the hospital room.

You brush a stray hair from his forehead, trying to coax a smile onto your face despite the weight in your chest. “What’s that, sweetheart?”

“To meet Charles Leclerc. Just once. To tell him he’s my hero.” Luca’s eyes, though tired, gleam with that familiar spark every time he talks about Formula 1.

Your heart aches, knowing how much this means to him. “He is pretty amazing on the track, isn’t he?” You respond, reminiscing about the countless races you’ve both watched together from this very room.

Luca nods, holding his toy race car, a replica of Charles’ Ferrari. “Yeah, but it’s not just that. He never gives up, even when things get tough. Kinda like me.” There’s a hint of pride in his voice, making you marvel at his resilience.

You pull him close, tears threatening to spill. “You’re my hero too,” you whisper, kissing his temple.

He snuggles closer, murmuring, “I just wish I could meet him, Mama. Tell him he gives me strength.”

You take a deep breath, new resolve settling in. “You never know, my love. Miracles happen.”

The determination you feel is like a roaring fire and you silently vow to make Luca’s dream come true. No matter what it takes.

***

As the evening shadows stretch across the hospital room, you find yourself deep in thought, racking your brain for any means to make Luca’s wish a reality. You think about reaching out on social media, starting a campaign, anything to catch Charles Leclerc’s attention.

You start by posting on your personal pages: a heartfelt message accompanied by a picture of Luca holding his toy race car, the walls of his room adorned with posters of Charles racing. #LucaMeetsLeclerc, you caption it, hoping against hope that the message reaches the right eyes and ears.

The following days are a whirlwind. Friends, family, and even strangers share the post, and the hashtag starts trending in your community. Messages of support flood in and local news channels express interest in Luca’s battle.

One evening, after reading Luca a bedtime story, your phone buzzes with a notification. It’s an email from a name you don’t recognize but the subject line sends your heart racing: A Special Meeting.

Opening it hastily, your eyes skim over the words:

Dear Y/N,

I represent Charles Leclerc. We were deeply moved by Luca’s story and would like to arrange a meeting ...

Tears blur your vision and you can’t help but let out a soft sob of relief and joy. Luca, hearing your cry, looks up at you with curious eyes. “Mama? What’s wrong?”

You pull him into a tight embrace, trying to convey all the love and happiness you feel. “Sweetie,” you whisper, pulling back to meet his gaze, “I think your dream might just come true.”

Luca’s eyes widen and his smile lights up the room brighter than any lamp ever could. The journey to fulfill a lifelong dream has just begun.

***

The hospital room feels heavier than usual. The rhythmic beeping of monitors fills the silence as Luca plays absent-mindedly with his race car on the bed. Just as you are about to suggest a card game, a knock interrupts the monotony.

“Come in,” you call softly.

The door opens and to your astonishment, Charles Leclerc himself steps inside, a shy smile gracing his features. He seemed different than on the TV — more human, more vulnerable.

“Ciao, Luca,” Charles greets, his voice gentle.

Luca’s eyes widen, his jaw dropping. “You ... you’re real.”

Charles chuckles, pulling a chair closer to the bed. “Last time I checked, I am. Your mom tells me you’re quite the fan.”

Luca nods vigorously. “You’re my hero. When you race, I feel like I’m flying. Free from this …” He gestures vaguely at the hospital equipment surrounding him.

Charles’ eyes soften. “Thank you. That means a lot to me. But, you know, you’re a hero too. Racing against challenges every day.”

You watch their interaction, touched by Charles’ genuine empathy. “Thank you for coming. It ... it means the world.”

Charles turns to you, a depth of understanding in his eyes. “When I read about Luca, I saw more than just a fan. I saw a fighter. Just like on the track, it’s the fights we don’t see that often matter most.”

There is a brief silence, filled with unsaid emotions.

Luca’s voice, trembling with emotion, breaks the quiet. “I have a question, Charles. How do you stay brave even when you’re scared?”

Charles takes a moment before responding. “I focus on the present. Fear often comes from thinking about what might happen. But in the moment, there’s a job to do, a race to finish.”

Luca looks thoughtful. “So, you mean I should focus on now and not think about ... later?”

Charles nods, placing a comforting hand on Luca’s. “Exactly. Live in the now and remember that every race has its challenges. It’s how we face them that defines us.”

Tears well up in your eyes, gratitude and admiration for Charles swelling within you. Here he was, not just a racing star but a beacon of strength for your son.

“Thank you,” you whisper, voice choked with emotion.

Charles smiles, glancing between you and Luca. “No, thank you. Today, I met a true champion.”

***

“You know,” Charles begins, playing with the edges of the signed Ferrari cap he just gifted Luca, “I once met a kid, a bit older than you, at a race. He told me that every time he felt like giving up, he’d watch one of our races. Said it gave him hope."

Luca’s fingers trace the signature on the cap. “Is that why you race? For people like him ... and me?”

Charles leans back, gazing out the window for a moment. “Partly. But also for myself. Racing ... it’s my passion, my escape. It’s where I find my strength.”

You feel compelled to share your own perspective. “We all have our races, don’t we? For Luca, it’s here, fighting every day. For me, it's trying to be strong for him, even when I feel like falling apart.”

Charles looks at you intently. “It’s incredible the strength we find when it’s for someone we love. Your journey, your race, is just as important — is more important — than any I’ve been on.”

Touched by his words, you continue, “I watch you race. The precision, the dedication. It’s art. I want Luca to have something like that, something to pour his heart into.”

Luca chimes in, his voice soft, “I think I already have something. Watching races with Mama, it’s our thing. It helps me forget, even if just for a while.”

Charles leans forward, engaging Luca directly. “Then let’s make a promise. You keep fighting your race here and I'll keep racing out there. Deal?”

Luca’s smile is radiant. “Deal.”

There is a pause, a moment of reflection, before Charles turns to you. “You're an incredible mother. The strength you show, the love ... it’s palpable. And it reminds me so much of my own maman.”

You blink away tears. “We do what we have to for our children.”

He nods, a faraway look in his eyes. “She would always say the same thing after losing my father. And sometimes, despite all the pain and struggle, we find connections, kindred spirits, who remind us we’re not alone.”

You smile, feeling a deep bond forming, not just between Luca and Charles but between two souls who understood the depth of love, sacrifice, and hope.

***

“I have a proposition,” Charles offers, the twinkle in his eyes belying the gravity of his words.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Go on.”

“How would you both feel about attending a race in-person? I can make sure Luca is comfortable and you both get the full VIP experience.”

Luca’s face lights up with hope and disbelief. “Really? I ... I’d get to see you race in real life?”

Charles nods, “Right from the best seat in the paddock.”

You hesitate, considering the logistics, the health implications. “I don’t know. It’s a beyond generous offer but Luca’s health …”

Charles raise a hand, preempting your concerns. “I’ve thought about that. We have top medical facilities at the track and I’ll make sure we have everything necessary for Luca.”

“You’d do that for us?” you whisper, the weight of his offer sinking in.

Charles leans forward, sincerity evident in his gaze. “I’ve won races, stood on podiums. But the race Luca is running, the courage he’s showing ... it’s unmatched. I want him to see a race, not just as a spectator but as a fellow racer.”

Luca looks up, eyes brimming with tears. “You make it sound like I’m a hero. But I’m just trying to get by, just trying to ... to live.”

“And that’s what makes you a hero,” Charles replies gently. “Facing adversity and pushing through, not because of fame or accolades but because of love, hope, and sheer will.”

You feel a lump in your throat, deeply moved by Charles’ words. “It’s not just race wins or trophies that make you a champion, Charles. It’s moments like this. Thank you. This means more than words can say.”

He smiles, a touch of sadness in his eyes. “In the grand scheme of things, life is the most important race. And in that race, I’ve found two champions right here.”

***

In Monza, as you settle into the VIP area with Luca by your side, the excitement in the air is overwhelming in the best way possible. The roar of the engines, the sea of red flags, the bustling energy of the crowd — it is a sensory overload that fills Luca’s eyes with wonder.

“Monza is special, you know,” Charles whispers, kneeling next to Luca’s wheelchair, overlooking the historic Italian track. He slips off a red Ferrari bracelet from his wrist, its well-worn leather showing its age. “This was given to me when I first joined Ferrari. I like to think that it’s brought me luck ever since.”

Luca’s eyes widen, tracing the intricacies of the bracelet. “Why are you giving it to me?”

Charles smiles, “Today, I want you to hold onto my luck. Keep it safe for me, will you?”

Nodding fervently, Luca reverently holds the bracelet. “I promise.”

When Charles leaves to prepare for the race, Luca clutches the Ferrari bracelet to his heart. “Mama, did you see? He gave this to me. His lucky bracelet!”

You smile, brushing a tear from your cheek. “Yes, sweetheart. He wants you to keep it safe. It’s a piece of his heart.”

As the race progresses, you both watch in awe as Charles’ navigates the twists and turns of the circuit. Your heart races with every lap, both as a fan and as someone who had come to know the man behind the helmet.

And then, the moment you’d never forget — a triumphant finish, Charles Leclerc taking the checkered flag. The Tifosi erupts into cheers, and during the celebration, you almost swear that Charles’ eyes find yours among the crowd.

Over the radio, his voice crackles through the airwaves, reaching not just the pits but into your very soul. “This one’s for Luca. Keep fighting, champ.”

Luca’s eyes widen, his hand clutching the bracelet even tighter. “Did you hear, Mama? He said it for me!”

Tears well up in your eyes as you nod. “Yes, sweetheart. He said it for you.”

The post-race interview is a blur of emotions. Charles, sweaty and exhilarated, is asked about the race, about his victory. But then he pauses, his gaze distant yet focused, his voice trembling with emotion.

“This win ... it’s for someone very special. A young friend of mine named Luca. He’s fighting a battle much tougher than any race and his spirit, his courage — it’s what carried me through today. Luca, this is all for you.”

***

The roar of the crowd has faded but the emotional high from the race lingers. You, Luca, and Charles head back to the hotel provided by Ferrari with laughter and memories of the day filling the conversation.

However, as the night passes by, a chilling silence envelopes the room. Luca’s breathing becomes shallow, his skin clammy. Panic bubbles up within you. The medical equipment that was always close by in the hospital is absent here.

You rush to his side, your hands trembling as you try to comfort him. “Luca, honey, stay with me. Breathe.”

Charles, witnessing the scene, feels a deep pang of fear and helplessness. “I’ll call for help,” he says, fumbling for his phone.

As you count the seconds for first responders to arrive, Luca’s weak hand reaches out, clutching Charles’ wrist. His voice, barely a whisper, shares a desperate plea. “Charles, if ... if I don’t make it, promise me you’ll look after Mama. She’s strong but she'll need someone.”

Charles, tears blurring his vision, nods, squeezing Luca’s hand reassuringly. “I promise. But you’re a fighter. You have to keep racing, okay?”

Luca manages a faint smile. “Always racing, Charles. Always.”

Emergency services arrive soon, the room transforms into a flurry of medical professionals and machines. Charles wraps an arm around you, pulling you close as you both watched, praying for a miracle.

Hours feel like lifetimes. When the medical team finally manages to stabilize Luca, the emotional toll is evident in every face in the room.

You approach Luca’s bedside, gently stroking his forehead. “You gave us quite a scare, sweetheart.”

Luca, though exhausted, manages a faint smirk. “Had to keep the race interesting, right?”

Charles, his voice choked with emotion, adds, “Every race has its challenges, remember? You faced this one head-on, just like a true champion.”

Luca’s eyes meet Charles’ own, a depth of understanding passing between them. “Remember your promise,” he whispers.

Charles nods, his gaze drifting to you. “Always.”

***

“You know, I’ve seen some tough races,” Charles begins, his gaze distant, “but nothing compares to what I witnessed last night. The strength, the love, the sheer determination.”

You sigh, exhaustion stamped across your face. “Every day is a race. Some days, the finish line feels close, other days it feels miles away.”

Charles takes a deep breath, his voice wavering slightly, “I ... I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through but I want to be there, for both of you. Luca asked me to look after you and that’s a promise I intend to keep.”

You look up, surprised by the depth of his commitment. “You’ve done so much already. You’ve given Luca memories he will cherish forever.”

He moves closer, his eyes searching yours. “It’s not just about Luca. It’s about you too. Through this entire ordeal, the strength you’ve shown, the love … it’s made me see life in a different light.”

A silence envelopes the room, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the machines monitoring Luca.

“I’ve raced all over the world,” Charles whispers, “but I’ve never met someone who’s touched my heart the way you both have. I want to be there for you, for whatever you need.”

You blink back tears, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his words. “It’s been so long since someone offered to share the load. I’m not sure I know how to let someone in anymore.”

Charles gently takes your hand. “One step at a time. Just like in a race. We face each challenge as it comes, together.”

A tear escapes, trailing down your cheek. “Thank you, Charles.”

He brushes the tear away, his touch lingering. “No, thank you. For letting me be a part of your world and for showing me what real strength looks like.”

***

“Look at that,” Luca murmurs, pointing towards the sunset painting the sky with hues of pink and orange. The three of you sit atop a hill overlooking the city, a picnic blanket spread beneath you.

Charles takes a deep breath, the fresh air filling his lungs. “You know, moments like this make me appreciate life even more. The simple joys, the beauty all around.”

You nod, taking in the serene view. “It’s easy to get caught up in the chaos and forget these moments exist.”

Luca’s eyes shimmer with a mix of mischief and wisdom beyond his years. “You two sound like philosophers. All I know is that this sandwich tastes amazing.”

You chuckle, ruffling his hair. “Always living in the moment, aren’t you?”

He grins. “That's the secret, Mama. We have to savor every bite, every sunset, every laugh.”

Charles, deeply moved, joins in. “You're right, Luca. In the races, I’ve learned that every second counts. It’s the same with life.”

Luca nods earnestly. “Exactly! You can’t rewind time. You can only enjoy it.”

The evening wears on with laughter, stories, and shared dreams. The three of you revel in the simplicity of the moment frozen in time.

As stars begin to sprinkle the night sky, Luca turns to Charles, a serious expression on his face. “Promise me something?”

Charles leans in, listening intently. “Anything.”

“Make more moments like this with Mama, even after ...” Luca's voice trails off, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air.

Charles squeezes Luca’s hand, his voice thick with emotion. “I promise, champ. Moments full of love, laughter, and sunsets.”

Luca’s watery laugh has tears pooling in your eyes. “You know, when you look at the sunset, remember me. Remember this moment.”

You turn to him, tears now overflowing. “Luca …”

He smiles, a mixture of melancholy and contentment in his gaze. “I may not be here forever but I'll always be a part of these sunsets. A part of you.”

Charles, his voice a gentle whisper, adds, “And a part of me.”

***

“Mama?” Luca’s voice, frail and delicate like the gossamer wing of a butterfly, quivers with fear.

You lean in closer, grasping his hand between both of yours, heart heavy. “Yes, my love?”

He swallows hard, searching your eyes with his own clouded ones. “I’m scared, Mama. I don’t want to go.”

Tears blur your vision but you muster a brave smile for him. “I know, sweetheart. But remember our sunsets? Sometimes, the sun has to set to make way for a new dawn.”

Luca’s fingers weakly grip yours. “But what if it’s dark, Mama? What if it hurts? What if I’m all alone?”

Charles, unable to remain a silent spectator, interjects, his voice cracking with emotion. “You won’t be. It will be just like falling asleep. You’ll have the sunsets, the memories, and all the love we’ve shared. That light will never fade. We will always be here. I promise.”

Luca’s eyes shimmer with tears but also a glimmer of hope. “Will you sing for me, Mama? The song from when I was small?”

Your heart breaks, remembering the countless nights you’d sung him to sleep. Taking a deep breath, you begin, your voice soft and lulling:

“You are my sunshine,

My only sunshine,

You make me happy

When skies are gray ...”

Luca’s breathing slows, his grip on your hand loosening.

“You’ll never know, dear,

How much I love you,

Please don’t take

My sunshine away.”

As the final note leaves your lips, Luca’s chest rises gently one last time, then stills. The room is silent, save for your heart-wrenching sobs.

Charles steps closer, wrapping his arms around you as you crumple into him, your world shattering. “I’ve got you,” he whispers, tears streaming down both your faces.

***

The somber quiet of the funeral is punctuated by the soft cries of mourners. The backdrop of gentle flowers contrast starkly with the weight of the grief in the air.

Charles stands next to you, holding a polished helmet, the vibrant colors of his Monza race-winning headgear gleaming under the sun. He turns to face you, eyes red-rimmed.

“This,” he starts, voice choked, “is my helmet from Monza. The race we won together. He was my co-driver that day, in spirit.”

You take a shaky breath, reaching out to touch the helmet, feeling its cool surface, the memories of that day flooding back. “He would’ve been so proud to have this.”

Charles nods, tears streaming down his face. “And this,” he says, taking the Ferrari bracelet off his wrist, “he held onto it for me once. I ... I want him to have it. To keep it safe.”

You clutch the bracelet, feeling its familiar weight, the leather still warm from Charles’ wrist. “It meant the world to him. And to me. Thank you.”

The two of you stand side by side, staring at the small casket adorned with flowers and memories. The embodiment of a life cut short but filled with love and unforgettable moments.

Together, you place the helmet and bracelet inside, a final tribute to a young racer whose journey had inspired so many.

“He’s free now,” Charles whispers, his voice barely audible. “Racing in the skies, no pain, no limits.”

You nod, tears flowing freely. “Our little champion, forever.”

Charles pulls you into a tight embrace, both of you finding solace in each other’s warmth. The wind picks up, rustling the leaves, carrying with it the memories of a brave soul, forever remembered, forever missed.

***

The familiar crest of the hill looms ahead, the very spot where laughter and dreams once danced in the wind. You and Charles reach the top, the vast expanse of the horizon stretching out before you. The setting sun casts a golden hue, much like that unforgettable evening a year ago.

Charles lays down a blanket, reminiscent of that day, and the two of you sit, lost in memories. The silence isn’t empty — it’s filled with remembrance of a young boy’s laughter, his dreams, his courage. The hole he left behind in your hearts.

“Do you ever feel,” Charles hesitantly cuts through the quiet, “that Luca is still here with us, watching these sunsets?”

A tear slips down your cheek. “All the time. Every time I close my eyes under the setting sun or look up at the sky, I feel his presence.”

Charles takes a deep breath, struggling with his emotions. “I’ve been thinking about a way to honor Luca. To keep his spirit alive.”

You turn to him, eyes questioning.

“A foundation,” Charles begins, “In Luca’s name. To help children with terminal illnesses and their families. To give them hope, love, memories.”

You feel a rush of emotion, a tidal wave of love and loss. “He would have loved that. To know he’s making a difference even now.”

Charles nods, tears rolling down his cheeks. ‘It’s not just about the financial help. It’s about the moments, the memories. The sunsets and the picnics. The dreams and the hopes.”

You intertwine your fingers with his, drawing strength from the bond you’ve forged. “We’ll do it together. For Luca.”

The sun slowly dips below the horizon. As the first star appears, a sense of peace envelops the two of you. In the heart of sorrow, a new purpose is born, ensuring that Luca’s light continues to shine, guiding countless souls out of the darkness.

***

The sun sets in a blaze of colors, casting a warm glow over the hill that has become a symbolic memorial. Charles and you sit side-by-side, hand-in-hand, watching the bittersweet horizon.

A small voice breaks through the silence. “Mama, Papa, why do we come here?”

You turn to your daughter, a smile tugging at your lips. Lucia, with her curious eyes and radiant smile, is a constant reminder of love and life renewed.

“We come here to remember someone very special,” Charles explains gently, his eyes, so similar to your daughter’s, filled with tenderness.

Lucia looks at you both, a hint of understanding in her innocent gaze. “Luca?”

You nod, voice soft. “Yes, sweetheart. Your big brother. We come here to celebrate him, to tell stories about him, and to show him how much we love him.”

Lucia frowns slightly. “But I never got to meet him.”

You stroke her hair, your heart aching and swelling simultaneously. “He’s always with us, in our hearts. Just like you are.”

Charles leans down, wiping away a tear that escapes your eye. “And you’re named Lucia after him, to carry his memory forward.”

Lucia’s eyes light up, smile shining bright. “I’m like a part of him?”

“Yes,” you say, your voice filled with emotion. “A part of him lives on in you. In all of us.”

As the sun dips below the horizon, bathing the world in twilight, you hold each other tightly, a family united by love, loss, and the enduring spirit of a young boy whose legacy lives on in every sunset, every star, and every beat of your hearts.

[mesetacadre]

I'm far from the first person to say this but there is a lot of overcompensating that goes on when communists oppose criticisms of specific communist figureheads. Stalin did not personally order the genocide of millions of people but he also wasn't the sole builder of socialism, nor was he the source of every good policy the USSR implemented. Same goes for Mao, Honecker, Lenin, Castro, etc. I don't think I need to harp on about why it's a remain of liberal historiography and ideology, although that should be acknowledged. Following in the same vein as this other post of mine, it constitutes a conscious and prolongued effort as a communist to adopt class, and more generally, a focus on the collective and processes instead of individual actions as the vehicle of your discourse. The better perspective with which to approach criticisms of a single transistor is to recontextualize it within the whole CPU that it's a part of, if you allow me the metaphor. You hinder yourself when you stoop down to the level of great man theory.

Lenin is a particular example because he tends to be great-manned both from the perspective of people criticizing and defending Stalin. He was neither a pure-hearted libertarian who was betrayed after his death by a conniving Stalin who hid Lenin's thought on him and who arrested/killed every other opponent, nor was Stalin a 1:1 replica of Lenin's positions but in a different stage of socialism. In both of these positions the role of the Bolshevik's party mechanisms and channels are completely ignored, as if it was a simple hereditary mechanism. In a democratic centralist organization, the Congress is the supreme organ of decision, and every office, from General Secretary to the base militant, is beholden to its decisions and has the duty to carry them out, as well as to contribute in its democratic process. Lenin was the Chairman of the Council of People's Commissar, sure, and the de facto "leader". The CPC was a mostly executive office, but like any other organ in the CP, it had a decided political role. The Congress is still the highest organ.

In the 13th Congress, when Stalin was elected to the position of General Secretary, there were 748 voting delegates. It is a misrepresentation of democratic-centralist principles to discount or ignore the vote of these 748 delegates. Lenin, as much as he was an important figure, was not the only politically competent communist, nor the only influential one. Never, even during the tensest months of the civil war or the underground work, was Lenin's criteria followed without criticism or input. He wasn't infallible or without fault, anyone can make mistakes or forget to consider some angles. This is also why Lenin was such a respected leader, because he did not govern alone. Stalin also governed like that, quite famously being skilled at listening to a discussion and being able to synthesize everyone's positions into a logical common ground. I am less concerned with what Lenin, at the end of his life, after two gunshots and a few strokes, personally thought of Stalin's aptness for the position, and more concerned with the opinions of those 748 delegates, all taking into account the discussions that took place in every lower organ of the party. What matters is that the party, democratically, elected Stalin to the position multiple times, and that his responsibility in leading cooperatively were proven competent throughout his tenure. Lenin was not an angel, nor the embodied spirit of revolutionary marxism. He was a very skilled and knowledgeable revolutionary whose words are not the gospel. The achievements made by Stalin's collective leadership (plus the entire party!) and the effective advancement of socialism are much more important than Lenin's opinion, as much as we can respect him. He wasn't clairvoyant

[nightospheresims]

madlen Tus Slippers (For The Sims 3)

This one was a request from my patron Lindsay! I'm p sure these are meant to be a replica of the tazz ugg slippers (there's even a swatch just like it included!) Let me know if you come across any issues :)

for teen and adult/young adult females

enabled for everyday, sleepwear, career, outerwear, and maternity

recolorable with three channels- slipper, trim, and bootstrap

four presets: first one is recolorable, last three are non-recolorable swatches from the original.

♡  DOWNLOAD  ♡

PATREON (FREE)

or: Mediafire (Teen / Adult)

♡  CREDITS  ♡

these slippers aren't mine, they were originally made for sims 4 by madlen. I just converted them to ts3 :)

@matchsim @xto3conversionsfinds @pis3update @wanderingsimsfinds

♡  Support Me (Ko-fi) |All Downloads | TOU  ♡

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Blur - Coffee & TV 1999

"Coffee & TV" was written by Blur's guitarist, Graham Coxon, who also sang lead vocals rather than frontman Damon Albarn (whom later started another little band; the Gorillaz). Coxon wrote the song about his struggle from alcoholism, and how after giving up drinking he would unwind by watching television over a cup of coffee instead and writing songs. This experience also contributed to his first solo album, The Sky Is Too High. "Coffee & TV" reached #11 in the United Kingdom and #26 in Ireland. It was a major hit in Iceland, where it peaked at #2. The song's musical style is an anomaly in comparison with the rest of 13, appearing similar to Blur's earlier, Britpop days. The single edit of the song also appeared on Blur's Best Of compilation, released in 2000, and featured on the Cruel Intentions soundtrack.

The super-cute music video featured a sentient milk carton known as "Milky" searching for Coxon, who appeared as a missing person's face on its side. The video won several awards in 1999 and 2000 including Best Video at the NME Awards and the MTV Europe Awards. In 2002, the video was ranked the fourth best video of all time by VH1. In 2005, it was voted the 17th greatest pop video of all time in a poll by Channel 4. In 2006, Stylus Magazine ranked it No. 32 in their list of the Top 100 Music Videos of All Time. In a similar poll, NME ranked it the 20th greatest music video of all time. The model of Milky, as used in the video, was sold at an auction of Blur memorabilia in 1999. When Blur played at the London 2012 Olympics Closing Concert Celebration at Hyde Park, fans who bought a Blur T-shirt on the day were given a free replica milk carton of Milky. The video is seen on Season 3, Episode 11 of The Sopranos in which Anthony Jr is watching the music video on MTV. Some tumblrinas might recognize Milky as gifs from an ancient tumblr post. "Coffee & TV" received a total of 55,9% yes votes.

[nickssidewitch]

💘 What The Sturniolo Triplets Are Like In Love ~ Tarot Analysis ✨

With the power of clairvoyance (and all of the other clairs), I think I have a pretty good grasp of what I think the triplets are like when they’re in love with someone. Here are my takes of each of them:

Disclaimer: This is tarot & soul/energy channelling, and not pure facts. Please take what I say with a grain of salt. If you don’t like it, don’t agree, or don’t care, just keep scrolling! 🤍🤎✨

Matt:

A giver. He doesn’t even expect any gifts from you really. But if you do happen to give him something special, he will treasure it for all of your lives together.

Speaking of not expecting anything from you, he doesn't expect you to pay for anything. He's the "put it on my tab" kind of guy. If he ever saw you pulling out your wallet at the end of a date, he'd scoff and ask you with a shocked expression, "What are you doing? Put that away!"

He loves to just be in the same space with you. Whether you're at home, both scrolling endlessly through TikTok on your phones on opposite ends of the couch, or you're both attending a party (which was rare for him prior to you meeting each other, but became a bit more comfortable for him since you were now in his life), just being in an environment knowing you were in the vicinity was enough to keep him satisfied.

He always makes time for his partners. He'd happily cancel a meeting or just not attend an event in order to spend time with you, especially when you're sick or just having a needy day. "Don't worry about it; I'll deal with it later," he'd reassure you before climbing next to you in bed and snuggling up next to you, planting a reassuring and comforting kiss onto your forehead. And if he messed up and you two had an argument the previous day, he would spend the entire next day making it up to you (wink wink).

He'll give you his food if he sees that you're just eyeing at his meal. He would be bringing a forkful of his food to his mouth, and midway he would notice you staring at his fork from the corner of his eye. He'd smirk and roll his eyes, asking you if you want a taste, and you'd nod, trying to hide your excitement of taking that bite. But Matt would notice said excitement as he hears you moan at the taste of his food. You'd beg him again, and he'd comply again, feeding you another bite. And then again. And then again. Until finally, he'd sigh and chuckle, handing you the rest of his plate of food. If he ever noticed you feel bad, he'd wave off your worries and reply, "I'll just get something else or {insert snack here}. I'm not a big eater anyway". Sometimes, you two would even just share the same plate, feeding each other (which is something he would find corny if he saw another couple doing it).

He'd go all out for special romantic days. During events like Valentine's Day or your anniversary, he'd do the whole shebang of leaving rose petals leading to the bed or the bath. Although mentally hating himself for "leaving a mess" in the days or hours he prepared leading up to this special moment, by the time your special romantic day was done, he wouldn't even care about the "mess"- he probably wouldn't even call it one anymore-, offering to clean up the house petal by petal.

He's a true romantic old soul, going on classic dates like those drive-in movie theaters, or going to an old-school diner (which, on special days, would have to be one of those fine dining replicas of those old-school diners since he liked to spend money on his girl during those special days).

He's like a bear when he snuggles. A real heavy bear that doesn't budge, even when you try to push him off. "Nuh-uh," he'd protest if you ever tries to push him off of your body, followed by him adding more (if not all) of his body weight to keep himself against you.

Chris:

He swears he’s not a softy now, but when he finally meets someone that he’s romantically involved with, he turns into an absolute lover-boy— maybe even a bit more than Matt.

He has this way of giving you his undivided attention, stopping his mouth from continuing to yap on just to hear what you have to say. And if his girl's a bigger yapper than him, he'd happily let her take the crown of being the yapper of the couple.

Even if you find what you’re saying to be stupid, he’ll value every single word you say. “No, don’t say that,” he’d protest at your insecurities. “What you’re saying makes sense," or "I'm listening to you, I'm hearing what you're saying."

He loves physical touch, and once he gets in a touchy-feely mood, it’s hard to get him out of it for the day. Hell, maybe he’d be the type to designate days where he's just latched onto you, following you around the house like a damn puppy.

He's a starer, but not the weird kind. If you were speaking, he'd stare at you, paying attention to your words, watching the way your lips would curve when you speak, observing your gesticulation. He'd look at you from afar if you were talking to a friend at the other side of the room at a party. You would happen to catch him staring at you doing your hair and makeup as you look up through the reflection of the mirror of your vanity.

He communicates the best through music. Whether it’s him showing you his favorite song for the day or even sending you a song that expresses how he feels while he’s in another room in the middle of you two not speaking to each other after an argument, one of his languages is music. You'd receive a notification on your phone and look at the message, seeing that it's a link to a song from Chris. You'd roll your eyes at his message, being that you two just had an argument and you told him you needed space to cool off, but a small chuckle would leave your lips, finding that small action of his to be rather endearing.

He loves dates where you two are competing against each other. From laser tag to air hockey, he would love being competitive with you. He loves the idea of rubbing his wins in your face, constantly bringing them up from the ride back home all the way until the you're both tucked away in his bed to sleep. He secretly likes when you're the one who behaves that way though, bragging about your wins all day and laughing at his losses. And although he would never ever admit that, the smile that formed on his lips every time you taunted him told you enough. And there was something about being competitive on your dates that would always end up translating in the bedroom...

Nick:

He is so into you (So Into You by Tamia came on in my head). Like his world just revolves around you. You’re just the Polaris in his night sky, shining brightly and leading him to the best paths. You shine brighter than any other star in his sky.

He’ll hit you up late at night “just to talk for a bit”. And by a bit, he means the whole night till the morning (like 5 AM) when one of you happens to finally look out the window and notice that the sun is rising. You'll both be talking to each other as the night goes on with drifting eyes and slurred, tired speech, but not giving a fuck. "Why?", someone would ask Nick about his late-night talking, and he'd respond, "Because it's {insert boyfriend's name here]" with a matter-of-fact tone.

He loves your style. He never thought he'd be the kind of guy to coordinate outfits with his man, but when you two start dating, he would absentmindedly coordinate his outfit with yours. And if you ever pointed this out to him, he'd roll his eyes and laugh. He might take bits and pieces of your wardrobe without you knowing until you’re like “Wait a minute…” and he’s standing there with your clothes on like “😁”.

PDA is second nature to him. He wouldn't say he's a public relationship kind of guy, but his actions with you say otherwise. He would swing him arm onto your shoulders, pulling you close to him. He would let you keep your hands on his hips, just because they're in the vicinity of his hips. His hand would try to find its way to yours, and when it finally does, it holds onto yours gently, giving it a squeeze sometimes whenever it felt like. The thing is though, he wouldn't even realize any of this. And if someone pointed it out, he'd blush and then shrug, sometimes giving a snarky remark along the lines of "Well, mind your business."

He enjoys talking about your job and passions with you. He could talk about his job to you all he wanted, but it all just a bunch of yadda yadda yadda to him at the end of the day. He rather enjoyed hearing you talk about your job, from the struggles of keeping up with certain tasks to the joys of getting them done. He loved hearing your life story, patiently listening as you explained to him what got you into this job and why you were still in it. Your passions intrigued him, and simultaneously, they attracted him to you in the first place. "What can I say? I love a businessman," He'd comment with a smile.

Hopefully you guys like this post! 💖🥹✨ I had a fun time making it! If you enjoyed this format, feel free to ask me more questions where I can compose the content similarly to this one! I'm open to anything (so long as the spirit guides don't say no! 😅).

Love you all!! MUAH! 😘🫂🤍

[english-history-trip]

In the words of Lara Maiklem:

436 years after they sailed up the Channel, the Spanish Armada (one of them at least) finally arrived in London yesterday.

The Galeón Andalucía, a full size replica of a 17th century Spanish warship, will be docked at St Katherine Docks near Tower Bridge from September 24 to October 6 and you can visit while she’s there.

[seat-safety-switch]

In my town, there are a surprising number of people who have been killed by leprechauns. Whenever I travel, I always ask folks: how many did the Lucky Charms guy "get" here? After some confusion, the answer is always zero, and I could never figure out what was going on.

Now, I'd traveled to some shitholes on business, back when I had a real job and hiring managers didn't spontaneously combust upon reviewing my resume. Akron, Ohio. Dayton, Ohio. Toledo, Ohio. Columbus, Ohio. None of these places had feral fae coming out of the woodwork and slaughtering innocent folks in the woods. Not a single one. So there had to be something wrong with where I lived.

Fearful of death, I constructed in my place a homunculus: an artificial human. This crude replica, soulless and doomed to a short life of excruciating pain, would travel into the woods in my stead and collect valuable data vis-a-vis leprechaun-being-killed-by. A lot of people ask about this part, and honestly it's one of those things you just can't teach. You either know or you don't know how to fabricate a lifelike humanoid that will learn unimaginable suffering for little reason other than idle curiosity about where all those football players went to that one year.

Anyway, after only a few dozen attempts, I was able to at least figure out the general geographic area where the leprechaun lived. Sure, I had to go through a lot of curses, blood sacrifices, and expired luncheon meat, but it was all worth it in the end. Got a show on Discovery Channel about the whole deal. The only stipulation in their contract was that I can never reveal the truth about the leprechauns, because then folks would stop watching.

So come and check me out at 9pm (8 central) as I attempt to figure out a small, but tantalizing, truth about the Ethereal Killers Beyond Our Realm. We're also going to restore and paint a 1988 Lincoln Continental for a celebrity.

[soweirdondisney]

Boettner_Builds on Instagram gave another update on the Molly Phillips tour bus - complete with some of the cast!

(previous updates)

[lucybellwood]

I’ve been meaning to repost this mini-essay I wrote for Global Maritime History back in 2015 for AGES and since today's dash is full of people lamenting the burden of Boat Knowledge this seems like the right time.

ONWARD FOR TALL SHIP ART TIPS!

I often get questions from people who are concerned that their illustrated boats aren’t going to be up to snuff, and the short answer is generally: don’t sweat it. If you’ve drawn a thing that has a hull in the water and sails in the air, you’re off to a great start, and if you consult a few handy reference images, you’re bound to end up with something that looks mostly ship-like.

HOWEVER. There are a couple things that often get lost in translation which—if you pay attention to them—can make the difference between a passable tall ship and a vessel that definitely looks like you know your baggywrinkle from your bunghole. Here’s two tips to get you started.

Flags in the Wind

Generally when we think of a thing that’s going fast, we imagine a flag streaming out in the wind behind it, right? Well, when it comes to square rig sailing, things aren’t always so simple. If the wind is coming up from behind a ship—or from the side—to push it forward, the flag may be flying in a direction you wouldn’t expect! How are the yards angled to catch the wind in the sails? What’s driving the vessel forward? Sailors often look to flags for a quick indicator of wind direction—use that thought process when drawing your ships.

Keep Your Shrouds Tight!

Those rope ladder-looking things sailors are always clambering up? They’re called shrouds, and they also form a large part of the tensioning system that keeps a ship’s masts stable and upright. Stays (lines that don’t move i.e. stay put) are arranged throughout the rig to maintain even aft-to-fore pull on the masts and prevent them from keeling over. Shrouds form the lateral component of that system, so here’s an important fact: they will not be saggy. No saggy shrouds. No saggy stays. In addition to making the mast unstable, it’d be a devil to climb in heavy weather.

Note: the ratlines (the “ladder rungs” of the shroud) can have slack in them—it’s the vertical lines that should be tight.

When the crew is “tuning the rig,” they’re putting slack in all the stays and then re-tensioning them to ensure that the whole operation is as stable as possible, so unless you’ve got a bunch of idiots running your fictional vessel, keep ’em tight.

And another thing…

I see a lot of people running their shrouds down to the deck, rather than alongside the vessel. Don’t do that! I mean, okay, sometimes shrouds do attach to chain plates on-deck, but most of your classic Golden Age of Sail vessels will have them running alongside to the channels. Also: they end in deadeyes to help with the tensioning of the line and to keep things stable, so don’t forget your deadeyes!

Honestly, these are the biggest things that I see artists flub when drawing tall ships, so if you can keep them in mind, you’ll be head and shoulders above the rest!

If you’re looking to go more in-depth with your research, I would recommend…

Seeing if you can find a modern replica of the type of ship you’re after and then centering your reference search around the name of that ship. I get far more extensive results when I’m searching for “Privateer Lynx” rather than “1700s topsail schooner.” Don’t discount the many photos tourists will have taken while visiting these ships!

Nose around on model ship-building forums. There is no greater boon to the modern nautical artist than these obsessive craftspeople, who will spend hundreds of hours replicating classic ships in minute detail—often photographing the whole process so you can actually see how the rig of a vessel is put together! God bless ’em.

And that’s all I’ve got! I hope you’ve enjoyed this brief foray into accurate tall ship representation. Fair winds and following seas!

[fatale-distraction]

BG3 NPC Social Media Headcanons Part…4???? Part 4

Here’s some more!!

Zevlor: starts out pretty normal. Support group stuff for former Hellriders. Typical awkward selfies from an older guy trying to keep up with The Youths and their social media. Then he makes the mistake of posting an old photo of himself and his old Hellrider squad, and a current gym selfie. All of a sudden he has five million followers and gets hundreds of thirsty-ass yes daddy fmu grandpa DMs he doesn’t know what to do with. He has to ask Tav to turn off private messaging and help him moderate comments for awhile. He’s pretty flustered but also kinda flattered. But damn these young people today are horny.

Dammon: literally a modern day blacksmith. Always posting progress pics and vids of his latest projects. Mostly replica weaponry, but he does some pretty cool art too. He also really enjoys welding art and has a professional set up in his garage. Lots of thirsty comments and DMs. About half of them are from Tav, Karlach, Lia and Cal.

Auntie Ethel: no one really knows, but it must be pretty bad because she’s constantly being banned and has to create new profiles. Another MLM mastermind, but her accounts never last long enough to figure out what she’s actually even selling.

Lorroakan: Oh my god the biggest fucking douchebag ever. Constantly suspended for harassment, and then he goes and makes videos about how the site admins are assholes and violating his right to free speech. Rolan and Aylin are constantly dunking on him, often in tandem, with some truly incredible roasts. They’re works of art, frankly. The only reason Lorroakan has so many followers is to see him constantly being wrecked.

Mizora: thirst-trap galore, but she NEVER gets suspended or banned. She’s always EXACTLY within the TOS. Constantly hitting up Wyll on new accounts because he’s blocked her on so many different ones.

Wulbren: he has zero followers because NO ONE LIKES HIM. Tav is the gender-neutral king of the Wulbren Sucks Donkey Ass club regardless of whether they’re dating Barcus.

Aradin: hasn’t had a social media account since Aylin made him piss his pants for doxxing her.

Omeluum and Blurg: have a cute educational video series doing experiments, teaching about Underdark stuff, and educating people about the so-called “evil” races like Illithids, Bugbears, Drow, Deep Gnomes, and Goblins. Such wholesome content. These guys are the best. They have the cutest bromance selfies.

Lakrissa: idk why but she gives me American Ninja Warrior vibes. Always posts videos of herself trying out new tricks at the ninja gym, archery range, sword fighting club etc. Super sassy motivational videos. Shows up for Karlach’s jackass and parkour videos.

Alfira: the PUREST music channel!!! Not only does she post awesome songs but she’s also super motivational to other artists and really open about her process and struggles. “Not every song is going to be a banger. It’s okay to just have fun and be silly with it sometimes. Some of my best songs have come about from just letting go and feeling my emotions.” She and Lakrissa have the cutest selfies.

Duke Ravengard: pretty typical politician social media, but he makes cute posts with Wyll and does a lot of outreach to troubled youth and current and former Fists.

Popper: TREATOOOOOOOOOOOS

~~~

Part One

Part Two

Part Three