#leap year 2020

[peacesmovingcabaret]

2012 was a leap year and a bunch of shit went down.

2016 was a leap year and a bunch of shit went down.

2020 was a leap year and a bunch of shit REALLY went down.

Please oh god I’m begging that 2024 is the one leap year that skips all the shit!!!

[quietfounder]

I started thinking that Disney Channel doesn't really have a programming block for their older audiences like Cartoon Network and Nickelodeon, then I thought about how Freeform could be that since it is part of the Walt Disney Company.

All the shows I included on the list have all been cancelled, couldn't make it past the first or second season, ended on a cliffhanger, or removed entirely from the service.

People have watched and grew up with Blossom, The Facts of Life, Boy Meets World, The Wonder Years (1988), Saved by the Bell (1989), The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, Family Matters, Family Ties, Full House, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, etc., so I thought "What would be this generation's version of those shows?" for most of the programming.

I haven't seen most of these shows I listed, but I wanted to include a variety of shows for the audience even if some of them are syndicated on other channels.

Freeform original programming (by me)

Diary of a Future President (Disney+)

Gordita Chronicles (Max)

Mixed-ish (ABC)

The Wonder Years (2021) (ABC)

Saved by the Bell (2020) (Peacock)

Big Shot (Disney+)

Schooled (ABC)

Mr. Mayor (NBC)

The Big Leap (Fox)

Rutherford Falls (Peacock)

How I Met Your Father (Hulu)

[swan2swan]

I love how 2023 was so stupid and miserable (especially on the back half) that it just decided to go full sprint in December:

-Gavlebocken devoured by birds

-Godzilla Minus One

-Pop Tart Bowl

-Horny Spider Body Butter

[hungrytravellers]

February 29th: Remember The Last One?

[tinyfantasminha]

2!! How long have you been drawing _(:3」z)_

from this ask game

2. How long have you been drawing?

For as long as I remember !! 😳 ever since i was a kid I've always loved doodled and drawing and luckily my family were always very supportive of it (๑˘ᵕ˘) I got into drawing animanga style thanks to one alice in wonderland manga I had (during 2010? i think) I loved the artstyle so much that I would copy and draw the panels 😳

I only got into digital art in 2015 since that's when I got my first wacom tablet (and it lasted until LAST YEAR, this bad boy has been with me for 7 years, thanks for your services soldier 🫡 )

UTTERLY CURSED, but here are some of my first digital art from my cringy middle school era 😷

OK IM. still a bit fond of these lesbian OCs I had 😭😭 I created them in 2013 before I even started digital art

[josiebelladonna]

kind of glad that i started kinktober all year because i’m starting to get the weirdest vibe from 2024 now

[misterradio]

idk why i have so many of these giant bugs but what the heccckkk ajhq needs to membership-unlock these NOW but especially the cockroach please i am the cockroach number one fan please please please please

[eggmeralda]

so weird how 2028 is gonna be a leap year. just doesn't seem right

[izunara]

september please be kind to me i am begging you

[hydaelynsanswers]

me: fuck my mental health has been abysmal lately

me: [realizes i missed my four year clean day] oooohhhhhh. oh. right

[zaddyazula]

leap day!

[theladwhoisweird]

Taking Selfie At The Parish's Main Entrance On Three Leap Years...

[scotianostra]

As you would expect February 29th is a bit bereft of anniversaries, but did you know..........

Anyone born on this day is said to be unlucky in Scottish culture, and referred to as “Leaplings.” True, they don’t get to celebrate many birthdays, but to make things worse, Scottish tradition adds on another layer by saying that leaplings are doomed to a lifetime of “untold suffering.” They also consider leap years as doomed for farmers, as the saying goes: “Leap year was never a good sheep year.”

Ithink we all know that it is the day of the year a lady can traditionally propose toher man, but in Scotland women intending to propose are advised to wear a red petticoat visible to their love – perhaps to give them fair warning! ;) Tradition also stated that any man who refused a Leap Day proposal should be issued with a fine, which could range from money to silk gowns.

If you are trying to work out the math on what you're exact age would be if you were born on February 29th, then you are in luck.

1920: 104 years old or 26.

1924: 100 years old or 25.

1928: 96 years old or 24.

1932: 92 years old or 23.

1936: 88 years old or 22.

1940: 84 years old or 21.

1944: 80 years old or 20.

1948: 76 years old or 19.

1952: 72 years old or 18.

1956: 68 years old or 17.

1960: 64 years old or 16.

1964: 60 years old or 15.

1968: 56 years old or 14.

1972: 52 years old or 13.

1976: 48 years old or 12.

1980: 44 years old or 11.

1984: 40 years old or 10.

1988: 36 years old or 9.

1992: 32 years old or 8.

1996: 28 years old or 7.

2000: 24 years old or 6.

2004: 20 years old or 5.

2008: 16 years old or 4.

2012: 12 years old or 3.

2016: 8 years old or 2.

2020: 4 years old or 1.

The next leap year will take place in 2028.

[motorsportbarbie13]

What's A Soulmate? - Part 2

In which you accidentally spend an extra year traveling the globe.

Warnings: Heavy on the mutual pining. JFC you two are down bad for each other. Pairing: Lando Norris x SainzSister!Reader Word count: 3.3k words

Part 1

Master List

July 2020

Austria 

“He’s 5 seconds ahead, Mr. Norris. Oh my God, he’s 5 seconds ahead of Lewis!” You murmur, hands clutching at the elbow of Lando’s dad as the Austrian Grand Prix winds down. 

“He’s got this, our boy is going to get his first podium of his career.” The pride and confidence in Adam’s voice sends a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. 

Somehow, your one year stint as your brother’s personal assistant had turned into two when you realized you had fallen in love with the world that you had found yourself in. Carlos had been resistant at first, wanting you to go back to university to get your degree but after a year on the road, you simply hadn’t figured out what it was you wanted to do. 

In the end, it had been Lando who had been the one to convince Carlos to agree to one more year traveling with them. University would always be there, he reasoned, and what was the use in sending you away if you didn’t even have an idea of what you wanted to do? Wouldn’t the real world experience you got working with elite athletes all over the world count for something when it was time to settle down and get a real job? 

In truth, Lando just hadn’t wanted to lose you. In the year that you had been in his life, the friendship that had blossomed between the two of you was one of Lando’s most important and meaningful relationships that he’d ever had. You could look at Lando and tell that something was off just by a singular tick of his jaw muscle. He could look at you and tell that you were losing your patience at his antics by the way your shoulders bunched up by your ears at the end of the day. So it had been completely selfish when Lando had gone to bat for you, simply because he didn’t want his best friend to leave his side. 

It had worked and Carlos had agreed, also not really wanting to lose you as such a fixture in his life as well. You and your brother worked together so well, you anticipating his needs before they were even a thought in his head. If he had his way, you’d spend the rest of your career managing his but he knew your parents would never go for it. 

Now, here in Austria, your best friend was one single lap away from landing his first F1 podium. Carlos was running in 5th and the energy in the McLaren garage was simply electric. The mechanics and engineers were all on their feet, waiting for the stewards to give the okay for them to run out to pit lane. You were tucked back in the garage standing next to Lando’s dad, who had traveled to Austria this weekend to see his son’s race. 

The checkered flag waves and tears stream down your face you’re so proud of both of your boys. P3 for Lando, P5 for your brother. Lando’s first podium of his career. The enormity of the moment washes over you as you follow Adam out into the pit lane. You watch through misty eyes as Lando pulls his car into parc ferme behind the little cardboard 3 sign. The pride that swells in your chest threatens to overtake any and all other feeling it’s so significant and strong. 

Here was the boy that you had spent countless nights consoling after DNFs and poor finishes, leaping out of the car after putting his car on the podium. You follow Lando’s dad over to the barricades, waiting patiently for Lando to get out of the car. His helmet is ripped off in record time as Lando’s eyes search for his team. The entire McLaren garage is there, waiting to celebrate this career best finish with him. Your stomach digs into the metal barricade, the cold steel biting into your bare skin, as you lean forward to catch a better glimpse of your sweaty best friend. 

The way your heart tumbles down to your toes when his gaze finds yours sends heat rushing to your cheeks. 

“We did it!” Lando crows, throwing his arms around his team. 

Adam is next and fresh tears roll down your cheeks at the tender hug that is exchanged between father and son. You’ve spent quite a bit of time with Adam and Lando this weekend and the bond that they share is something that is so special, it’s a blessing to watch. 

And then its your turn. The shy smile that flits across your face feels out of place in front of the boy that has your entire heart. “I’m so proud of you.” You murmur, eyes shining up at him, when his arms snake around your neck as he pulls you into a sticky hug. 

“Thank you.” He whispers back, lips dusting over your cheek in a very non platonic way that has your heart skittering into your throat. “I couldn’t have done it without you, pretty girl.” 

It’s just a quick moment between friends and it’s over before it really means anything to anyone else besides you and Lando but that moment after his first podium is something that you’ll hold on to for years to come. He’s your best friend and nothing more, you try to remind yourself as you watch him complete the rest of his post-race duties. Of course you were proud of him, that wasn’t weird to say. The hug that you shared, the quick peck on the cheek, both were the actions of two people that were practically inseparable but nothing more than friends. 

Lando never takes his eyes off of you the entire podium celebration. 

Italy

September, 2020 

“There is absolutely no fucking way I am getting on the back of that thing with you, Norris.” You stand just outside the McLaren motorhome, hands on your hips, staring at Lando like he’s gone completely insane. 

“Oh come on.” He groans, rolling his eyes. “Don’t be such a baby. The fan stage is like a million miles away and we’re going to be late.” 

You stared at the electric scooter, one of twenty that had been gifts from Lando’s dad from his new company that had just launched. It was big enough to fit the both of you and was certainly fast enough to get you across the paddock to the fan stage in plenty of time but the idea of you zipping around with Lando Norris of all people piloting the electric scooter had anxiety settling deep in your stomach. 

“This is not going to end well.” You grumble. “If you break me, Carlos is going to be very unhappy.” 

Lando turns on that megawatt smile he’s known for, aiming it’s full strength right at you, something that you are utterly unable to protect yourself from. “You know I would never hurt you, pretty girl.” He coos, using that nickname that he’s grown so fond of lately. 

Which is a problem because you two are supposed to be strictly friends. You knew Lando was a flirt, had seen it in action so many times in the clubs on unsuspecting girls that you had lost count but he never seemed to turn on the charm with you like he did the other girls. Which was totally fine with you because there was no way you would want to get involved with someone you worked so closely with. Despite your close friendship, there was always an element of a professional boundary that you didn’t really want to cross. And Lando seemed like he didn’t want to cross it either. 

So, you ignored the swooping stomachs and toothy grins that he aimed your way, telling yourself that it was just because he was your best friend and saw you as the same. Even if he had tried to pursue something, it would have been a bad idea. You couldn’t imagine what you would do without Lando in your life and if a romantic relationship went south between you two, well…that simply wasn’t an option and you would’t even consider the fall out. It made you too anxious. 

Throwing your hands up in defeat, you approach the scooter somewhat apprehensively, not missing the way Lando’s grin grew about five sizes when he realized he had won the argument. But he wasn’t just happy that he had won the argument, he was ecstatic that you would now have an excuse to touch him, something that he lived for like a man starved. You never put a toe out of line when it came to your working relationship and Lando tried his best to respect that, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable in any way. Carlos would have his head and his balls if he ever made his baby sister feel any other way than safe but more than that, he valued your friendship more than anything else. If you wanted to maintain a strict platonic relationship, that was what Lando was going to accept. 

Lando is up on the scooter first, one foot braced on the pavement as you gingerly take one step and then another onto the back plank of the machine. Your fingers grip at his waist as you struggle to find your balance. “There you go.” Lando says, kicking off the pavement while engaging the little throttle on the handlebars. “Just hold on, I’ve got you.” 

You hate to admit it, but Lando was right: this thing was fun. You two rocket through the paddock, picking your way carefully though the late afternoon crowd. Your arms are tight around his waist as you lean into his strong frame, your safety utterly dependent on the man in front of you. 

Lando nearly bins it into Red Bull’s motorhome when you rest your chin on his shoulder, he’s so distracted. The sound of your laughter in his ear combined with the way the tips of your fingers grip at the waistband of his jeans send his senses into overload. 

“I hate to admit it, Norris but I think you were right.” You laugh, the whisper of your breath sending a shudder down Lando’s spine. “This thing is kind of fun. Do you think your dad would give me one too?” 

Not if Lando had anything to say about it because as far as he was concerned, riding through the paddock on the back of his, arms clinging desperately to his body,  was the only way you’d be getting around on one ever again. 

October 2020 

Portugal 

The pulse of the music in the club thrums through you, the alcohol you’ve consumed tonight blurring the edges of your vision in the most comforting way. You’ve been in Portugal for less than 24 hours and you already are in love with the country, having arrived ahead of media day tomorrow. 

From your spot on the couches in the VIP section, you watch as Lando approaches, your drink in one hand and his in the other. He had convinced you to come out with a few of the drivers tonight, using the fact that there had been a two week break before this race that you had spent in Spain while he had been in England. It hadn’t taken much to convince you as you had missed Lando during the break, even though you’d never admit as much. 

“Thank you, Lan!” You shout over the music when Lando hands you the glass full of vodka and sprite. 

“Anytime, pretty girl.” Lando says, slipping into the booth next to you. 

The burn of the alcohol slips down your throat as you listen to Charles prattle on beside you about something, focus really on the way Lando’s arm is pressed into your bare one. You had spent the entire break desperate for a break from his presence, the way he consumed most of your thoughts was starting to border on obsessive and you had thought you had done a good job of getting him out of your system. 

It only took 3 vodka and sprites for you to realize how wrong you were. This silly little crush had to stop though, you knew that. And if Lando had been aware of your feelings, he probably would have told you the same. He was always flirting with pretty models in the club, enjoying his status as a rich, single, professional athlete. There was no way he’d want to tie himself down to one girl, especially not to someone he probably saw as more of a sister than anything even remotely romantic. 

So you took what you could get: his friendship and basking in any and all attention he gave you. You tried to tell yourself that the sudden attention Charles was showing you tonight was a good thing, that you needed to find a distraction to get your mind off of the one person that seemed to wholly consume your every thought. 

“Do you want to dance, amor?” Charles murmurs in your ear, fully aware that your brother is sitting less than 20 feet away, watching the exchange with daggers shooting out of his eyes. 

Next year, Carlos was leaving McLaren and joining Ferrari but if he kept hitting on his little sister like he was, Charles was going to have some issues with his new teammate. 

Grasping at the opportunity to get away from Lando and the model that had appeared out of thin air that was sitting pretty on his lap, you practically leap up out of the booth, following Charles out onto the dance floor. The music pulses sensually around you as Charles brings his hands onto your hips, swaying to the music. With your drink in had, you attempt to lose yourself in the music and the feeling of Charles’ hands on your body, ignoring the fact that it isn’t working. 

From his spot at the table, Lando grips his drink so hard he’s surprised the glass doesn’t shatter. The moment you had gotten up from the booth with Charles, he had practically dismissed the girl that had been trying to stick her tongue down his throat in favor of watching you dance instead. 

“Everything okay there, Lando?” George asks as he takes the place vacated when Charles and you vacated the booth. “You look a little annoyed.” 

Lando shoots his friend a withering look before allowing his gaze to find you and Charles again. “‘M fine.” He grumbles. 

“Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?” 

Lando swings his head to look at George like he has three heads. “What are you talking about, mate?” 

“I see the way you look at her. Everyone does. You two are the worst kept secret on the grid.” 

Lando sets his drink down without taking his eyes off of you. “She’s just a friend and my teammates sister. Do you see the way Carlos is glaring at Charles? That would be me on the receiving end of that. No fucking way.” 

George just raises an eyebrow at Lando’s protest. “Whatever you say mate.” 

December 2020 

Bahrain 

“Lan, can we talk?” You ask, hands wringing together in front of you. 

The harsh lights above you light up the paddock, bathing the darkened desert in a fluorescent glow. You’d been looking for Lando for almost thirty minutes now, somehow losing him after qualifying had concluded an hour before. 

Lando instantly clocks the anxiety in your entire body as he exits out of McLaren’s hospitality building, brows knitting together as he approaches you. 

“Of course we can. Everything okay?” His heart thumps against his chest at the look of worry playing on your face. He doesn’t miss the way you worry at your lip before you answer him. 

“I just…we need to talk.” 

Lando grabs your hand, leading you away from the crowd. Even though the activities for the day have concluded, there are still so many people in the paddock and you know this isn’t the ideal place to have this conversation but you know if you don’t have it now, you’ll chicken out. Again. 

Lando leads you towards pit lane, knowing that most of the crowds have moved on from the garages and that you’ll find a quiet spot there. The silence that settles between you is not wholly unusual but tonight it feels different. Heavy almost. Lando can feel the bad news coming from a mile away and he suddenly just wants time to stop. Whatever you’re about to tell him is going to be bad, he can feel it deep in his bones. 

He finds a bit of pit lane that is deserted, save for a few mechanics chatting away after wrapping up their duties. “You’re making me nervous.” Lando admits as you hop up onto the low wall.

Lando steps between your legs, settling his hands on your hips as he looks up at you. This show of affection isn’t unusual between the two of you but truth be told having him touching you tonight makes what you have to tell him a bit harder. 

The words you have to tell him die in your throat as you lose yourself in his eyes for a moment. They’re darker blue gray tonight, the star filled night sky above making them seem like the ocean right before a storm. Which you supposed was appropriate for what you had to say now. 

“I’m not coming back next season.” You whisper. 

The words hit Lando like a physical blow. “What?” He stutters, fingers digging into the flesh at your hips almost painfully. 

Tears threaten to spill at the heartbreak in your best friend's eyes. “All this time spent with you and Carlos these past two years has changed me, given me so much purpose and direction and it’s time I move onto the next step.” 

Next step? Move on? Lando’s breath caught in his throat. You couldn’t move on from this. From him. He couldn’t lose you, his best friend in the entire world. You couldn’t leave him. His vision blurs a bit at the news and he’s forced to close his eyes for a moment. Panic races through him, bitter and quick like a snakebite. 

“What does that mean?” He grits out, the question coming out more harshly than he intends. 

“I’m going to study public relations in New York City in January.” Your voice is small in response to his obvious anger. 

Lando’s entire world tilts beneath his feet. 

“New York City?” He breathes, eyes shuttering closed to hide from you. 

You nod, a single tear slipping down your cheek at the absolute devastation on Lando’s face. You reach up to cradle his face in your hands, needing to touch him right now. “I won’t be gone forever and I’ll be at every race during the summer and all of the North American ones, I promise. It won’t be that bad.” The words tumble from your lips and you’re not entirely sure who you’re trying to convince that it’ll be okay. 

Lando’s face crumples as he leans forward, burying his head in the crook of your neck. He wants to ask you to stay. He wants to beg you not to leave him, that he needs you and doesn’t know how he’s going to function without your content presence. He knows he can’t though, he can’t say a single thing. He never would ask that of you because he knows you’d do it in a heart beat. He knows you’d change all of your plans for him if he told you how he felt. How he’s truly felt for damn near two years now. No, your friendship is too precious and your future is too important for him to tell you how head over heels in love he is with you. 

So, he keeps quiet and says the most soul crushingly thing he’s ever had to tell you. “I’m going to miss you so fucking much, pretty girl.” 

Tag List: @anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @charlesgirl16 @lieutenantchaos

[meramori]

I might just be being a bit dumb but.

How do we pronounce 2100?

Like. Twenty-one-hundred? Like the way we say eighteen hundred? Is that it? I guess it just sounds strange? Will we say ‘the year two thousand one hundred?’

Like will we say that the year is twenty one hundred and 18 for 2118? Or two thousand one hundred and eighteen.

And I’ve successfully confused myself.

[qqueenofhades]

I KNOW he’s gonna find a way to worm his way out of it like the Worlds Biggest Bitch Baby that he is but… the thought of watching our future president absolutely eviscerate that orange sack of pond scum in a debate on national television make me feel indescribable joy. The mere thought of it makes me feel A L I V E.

I hope that if he refuses to debate her, she still stands up there by herself, looks directly into the camera and lists all the ways he’s a Scaredy Little Punk Ass Bitch.

Listen, Democrats might still have some understandable nerves (though listen to me, LISTEN TO ME: this is NOT THE TIME FOR MORE PANIC, THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO TALK ABOUT HOW SCARY THIS IS, WE KNOW! WE KNOW! THIS IS THE TIME TO GET TF IN FORMATION AND DO YOUR GODDAMN JOB!) but let me say this, the Republicans are LOSING it. They put ALL their chips on facing Sleepy Old Joe who don't talk so good anymore, and suddenly they have a 59-year-old lawyer and prosecutor who literally spent her whole elected career going after sex pests, frauds, and felons. (We remember how she made Brett Kavanaugh fucking cry at his confirmation hearing, right?) And suddenly, they have to bring it against Kamala. GODSPEED, DIPSHITS.

So yes, Trump is already whining SO hard about all the money they "wasted" going after Biden, laying the groundwork to escape getting his ass handed to him at the next debate, got stuck with a terriblawful VP pick (even Fucking FOX NEWS cut away from Vance's rally the other day because it was so boring) and suddenly realizing that he spent so much effort to make this election about age and mental competency when... now it's him. WHAT NOW, FUCKFACES. WHAT. NOW.

I'd also like to point out that abortion rights are going to be a HUGE issue, they have won everywhere they have been on the ballot (including in very red states) post-Dobbs, they will be on the ballot in several more important states (including Fucking Florida, not that I actually think we'll win there), and Kamala has a great record as a defender of reproductive freedom. Biden did his best, bless him, but sometimes the Old Catholic Man still leaped out. So the absolute fucking schadenfreude of having a black female president BEAT TRUMP IN A POST-DOBBS ELECTION??? MAGNIFICENT.

(As @silverbirching says: we wonder how many minutes it will take SCOTUS to row back the "president god-king" ruling if Kamala wins. We're guessing 15. That is, if Joe does not finally just embrace the fact that presidents are immune AND he is leaving office, and send Alito, Thomas, and Kav on a "special indefinite vacation" as an inauguration present.)

I am not overconfident. I know this is unprecedented. I know we don't have much time, and how hard this will be. This is not 2016 or 2020, and we all have to do the work and not let up. But if the Handmaid's Tale party is literally now trying to make "Kamala doesn't have children because she's an Evul Feminist" into their main line of attack, all I say is, Please proceed, chucklefucks. I'm sure that will go great.