āhe gave me a very polite winkā
lewis hamilton winking at nico rosberg
hungarian gp 2024 & barcelona gp 2026
No title available
todays bird
art blog(derogatory)
Cosimo Galluzzi
occasionally subtle

Jimmy Eat World
Mike Driver
EXPECTATIONS
Interview Vampire Daily
Cookie Run:Kingdom Official!
Cosmic Funnies
Sweet Seals For You, Always
NASA
I'd rather be in outer space šø
sheepfilms
Color Me Curious
Fieri Frames
YOU ARE THE REASON

#extradirty
The Stonewall Inn

seen from Burkina Faso

seen from Russia

seen from United States
seen from Iraq
seen from Macao SAR China

seen from Iraq
seen from Bangladesh

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Canada

seen from United States
seen from Iraq
seen from Malaysia
seen from France
seen from Ecuador
seen from Ecuador

seen from Japan
seen from Colombia
seen from United States
@superfanntural
āhe gave me a very polite winkā
lewis hamilton winking at nico rosberg
hungarian gp 2024 & barcelona gp 2026
Lewis: its easy to be negative about people... I think its worse when its a driver that knows how hard it is in this field.... and they dont even have the success that I have
->
Nico to Villeneuve: he was speaking to you. He said he hates when ex-drivers criticise him who've not had his success šāļø
HKDDHLDHKDHLDLHDHLDHOHKDHKDXHKOXHDGOXOGODGGKXXKG KILL HIM!!! KILL HIM DEAD!!!!
1. Spain 2016.
2. Spain 2023.
3. Spain 2026.
OH MY GOD!
Benās hand..
Star Wars Sequel Trilogy (2015-19)
Iām not crying, youāre crying
unbelievably fond scenes at the fia awards
not the second brocedes, but the first landoscar
bonus: new perspective
they make me SICK
āi wanna give him a hugā
are you absolutely taking the piss right now omfg
Caught in the middle of it all - Landoscar
Summary: During the Brazilian Grand Prix, one impulsive kiss changes everything. Lando forgets where they are, lost in the way Oscar looks at him, and suddenly, the whole world knows.
Note ā ļø: public outing, media scrutiny, PR chaos, soft banter, established relationship, quiet intimacy
Word count: 2.3K
This fic is based on this picture from the 2025 Brazilian Grand Prix Thank you @mintraindrop <3
The morning of the Brazilian Grand Prix always had a special kind of electricity in the air, the kind that buzzed under your skin and made the world feel sharper.
The paddock was alive with noise, journalists, fans, and team personnel moving in orchestrated chaos. The parade lap cars were lined up, each one small and a little ridiculous in comparison to the beasts that would soon tear around the track.
Oscar had one hand on the small steering wheel of the tiny, old-fashioned parade car, his McLaren sweater bright orange against the clearly different shade of orange of the vehicle. Which he was kind of too tall for, by the way.
His other hand rested loosely on the gear stick, steady and sure, the kind of quiet composure that made him seem like such a machine on track. Lando sat behind him on the backseat, one leg dangling over the side, grinning as he waved lazily to the crowd.
They had done these parades a dozen of times. But this one somehow felt different. Maybe it was the threatening rain above SĆ£o Paulo, or maybe it was the fact that every time Lando looked at Oscar, at the curve of his smile, the calm in his eyes, he forgot that they were, in fact, at a public event.
Oscar looked over his shoulder at Lando, the corners of his mouth twitching. It was that subtle smile that Lando knew by heart, the one that only appeared when Oscar was trying not to laugh.
āReady?ā Oscar asked, voice low but easy. His accent, soft and familiar, slipped through the roar of the crowd like something made just for Landoās ears.
Around them, other drivers joked and waved to the crowds. Cameras flashed, microphones reached in and fans screamed names. It was pure chaos, but in that small moment, all Lando saw was Oscar.
Landoās breath caught as he looked into the youngers eyes. It was ridiculous, honestly. They had been together for a while now, long enough to know each other's every tone, every touch. But still, somehow, that look, the quiet confidence in Oscar's eyes, the sharp edge of his jaw, disarmed him completely. For a second, no rational thought floated around in Lando's brain. He completely forgot that the whole world was watching them closely.
He smiled, the kind of smile he couldnāt fake even if he tried. āAlways,ā he murmured back. Oscar turned back towards the steering wheel, hands tightening as he prepared to drive them around the track. And Lando? Lando was utterly lost behind him.
The surrounding crowd faded into white noise, the camera's didn't exist. All that was left, was the sight of Oscar. His Oscar.
Before he could think too much about it, he leaned forward into Oscar's space, who turned his head in surprise at the sudden invasion. Lando kissed him, nothing on his mind but the softness and taste of his boyfriends lips. The kiss was quick. Soft, gentle, and full of something wordless but deep.
It wasn't planned. It wasn't for anyone else. Just a simple, instinctive act, like breathing.
But the world didn't miss it.
The second they broke apart, everything came rushing back in. The sound of laughter from nearby, the sudden flash of cameras, the unmistakable ripple of surprise that seemed to spread around the circuit like a wildfire. Oscar froze, eyes flicking toward the nearest lens before looking up at Lando with a mix of pure shock and affection.
"Lan," he whispered, the nickname leaving his lips without a second thought. There was a little warning in his tone as he spoke, though there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Lando's heart went racing as he realized his mistake. The grandstands, the fans, the other drivers, the camera pointed directly at them, waiting for something else that would break every headline in motorsports and outside of that.
But when he looked at Oscar once again, the soft look of adoration in his eyes and a smile that said 'we're in this together. I got you.' he relaxed slightly and leaned back, grinning despite the chaos rising all around them.
"Well," he said under his breath, "Guess that's out now."
Oscar let out a laugh at that. "So when did you decide to hard launch our relationship, huh? Didn't think I would have wanted to know about it before you threw us off the cliff?" He leaned back, his arm now resting on Lando's knee, who simply shrugged but smiled anyway.
Within minutes, the internet had turned into a hurricane. The photo spread faster than any race highlight ever could. Lando leaning forward, Oscar looking his way, the unmistakable moment of connection caught in perfect clarity.
The headlines read: āLando Norris and Oscar Piastri ā McLarenās secret romance?ā āThe kiss that tilted the paddock!ā
While they were out, enjoying the driver's parade in their ridiculous little vehicles, The PR team lost their minds. Phones buzzed endlessly and statement were drafted, deleted and redrafted. The whole McLaren team tried to stay calm, to remind everyone that professionalism on track was still the priority.
But when they returned from the driver's parade, the atmosphere in the McLaren hospitality unit was electric, but not in the good way. It was pressured and made your heart rate go up, whether you liked it or not.
The second Lando and Oscar stepped through the doors, still wearing their parade smiles, because they had that much fun, and the faint blush of shared embarrassment, they could feel the tension thick in the air.
Conversations stopped. Heads turned. A few mechanics tried and failed to act casual, pretending to check data on their tablets. Someone muttered something under their breath that ended in a poorly stifled laugh.
And then came the PR storm.
āLando! Oscar!ā McLarenās Head of Communications, Emily, called out in that deceptively calm tone that meant she was on the edge of combusting. āOffice. Now.ā
Uh oh.
Lando winced, glancing over at Oscar as if to say you first, but Oscar just sighed, giving him a light shove toward the small meeting room tucked behind the hospitality area.
"Traitor." Lando said before moving anyway, Oscar hot on his heels.
The moment the door closed, Emily exhaled sharply and dropped into the nearest chair, already pulling up her iPad.
āI assume you both know what Iām about to say,ā she began. āBecause half the internet has already seen it.ā
āYeah,ā Lando admitted, rubbing the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. āThe⦠uh, kiss.ā
āThe kiss,ā she echoed in annoyance, tapping her screen to pull up a thumbnail of the now-viral photo, the two of them caught mid-moment, Lando leaning forward, Oscar half-turned, both of them unmistakably happy for two people who just got caught kissing on live television.
āWeāve got it from ten different angles already. Sky Sports, F1TV, and about a thousand fan accounts. You two have officially broken the internet.ā
"Sick," Lando whispered, but Oscar shoved his elbow into his boyfriends ribs. "Not now," he replied sharply before turning towards Emily.
āSo⦠whatās the plan?ā Oscar asked, his voice ever so calm. Lando thought he was going to be sick with how fast his heart was beating now, and he wasn't lying if he said he was a bit jealous of Oscar's calm demeanor.
āThe plan,ā Emily said sharply, āis to survive the next twenty-four hours without the teamās sponsors calling me in tears. Weāre getting messages from everywhere. Mastercard wants to confirm if this is an official announcement. The social teamās analytics dashboard looks like a fireworks display. And Zak is in a meeting with F1 execs trying to figure out if this violates any broadcast protocols.ā
Lando blinked. āBroadcast protocols? For a kiss?ā
He thought this was all a little bit much for something as small as a kiss that didn't even last a second, but hey, what did he know?
Emily gave him a look that could have cut carbon fibre. āFor a public relationship between two drivers who are teammates in the middle of a championship battle. Do you have any idea what this means for brand image, team media obligations, orāā
She was definitely close to losing her shit.
āEmily,ā Oscar interrupted gently, his voice steady but firm, āwe know itās complicated. We didnāt plan it. It just⦠happened.ā He tries to explain.
Lando gave a quiet laugh. āYeah, you looked too good not to.ā
Oscar elbowed him again, but this time more lightly, but even Emilyās scowl softened just a little at the way Lando looked at Oscar.
After a pause, she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before speaking up again. āLook, Iām not here to yell at you. Honestly, weāll handle the PR side. Weāll draft a statement, something about privacy and respect for personal lives. But I need to know, from both of you, is this serious?ā
That question hung in the air. The kind that mattered more than all the noise outside.
Lando and Oscar exchanged a glance, and something unspoken passed between them. A silent yeah, definitely.
Lando was the first to nod. āIt is.ā He sounded final.
"In all honesty," Oscar then started. "We've been dating for almost a year. Nobody knew because we made boundaries back then. It has worked so far."
Emily froze mid-tap on her tablet, eyes flicking between them like she was trying to decide whether to scold them or congratulate them. āA year?ā she repeated, voice dropping like she didn't quite believe them.
āYouāre telling me you two have managed to keep this a secret for a year? Through every media day, every post-race debrief, every bloody team dinner?ā
She looked astounded.
Lando couldnāt help but grin. āWeāre that good at strategy,ā he said lightly, earning a small, incredulous laugh from Oscar beside him.
Emily leaned back in her chair, clearly trying to process that revelation. āYouāre unbelievable,ā she muttered, though her tone had softened now, less furious PR manager, more reluctantly impressed.
āI have drivers who canāt hide a hangover for twelve hours, and you two pulled off a full-blown relationship under the camerasā noses.ā
Lando laughed at the way she looked so defeated by all of this new information.
"The world doesn't need to know everything, right? I don't tell them when I wipe my ass, either, because it is none of their business." Lando said with a proud grin.
Emily grimaced at that before looking back at Oscar, who rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish.
āIt wasnāt about hiding. It was just⦠ours. Away from all this.ā He gestured vaguely toward the window, where flashes from photographers still lit up the motorhomeās glass. āWe didnāt want it to change how we work. How people see us.ā
For the first time since theyād walked in, Emilyās expression softened into something almost sympathetic. āI get that,ā she said quietly. āBut now that itās out there, things will change. People will read into every move, every radio message, every pit strategy call.ā
Lando straightened in his chair, the easy humor fading from his face. āThen let them,ā he said simply. āWeāll handle it.ā
Oscar nodded beside him, calm as ever, but there was a subtle tension in his jaw that Lando recognized, the quiet readiness of someone bracing for impact.
Emily studied them for a moment, then finally nodded too. āAlright. Then we protect each other. Thatās the rule. You keep it professional on track, and weāll manage the rest. Deal?ā
They both agreed, and the tension in the room eased a little.
Only then did she push back her chair and stand, the flicker of a small, wry smile tugging at her lips. āBut for the love of God, please, no more surprises mid-broadcast?ā
Lando laughed under his breath, glancing at Oscar with a look that was equal parts apology and affection. āNo promises,ā he said, and the tension in the room finally broke enough for all three of them to fully breathe again.
The moment they stepped back out, the paddock chaos returned tenfold.
Cameras were waiting. Reporters were hovering by the motorhome, pretending to be ājust passing by.ā A Sky Sports producer waved them down, mouthing quick word? Just one question!
Lando wanted to reach for Oscar, but decided against it. Instead he sighed and lowered his cap over his eyes. āWeāre never hearing the end of this, are we?ā He asked Oscar who stayed close to him.
Oscar smirked, brushing past him toward the garage. āProbably not. But at least now everyone knows Iām the one driving you crazy.ā
Lando chuckled, following him in. The noise of the crowd, the thrum of engines, and the scent of fuel filled the air again. Mechanics moved around their cars, focused as ever, pretending the entire internet wasnāt melting down outside.
And maybe, for now, that would be their best bet as well.
But amidst all the noise and chaos, there was still that quiet, grounding energy between them. As they suited up, helmets in hand, Lando caught Oscar form across the garage, focused on something his engineer is telling him. The 81 on his back somehow making Lando's heart beat a little faster. Because that number over there, on the other side of the garage, was his biggest competitor, but also his biggest supporter and just entirely his to have when they would return to either of their hotelrooms later tonight.
Oscar then turned around, as if he felt Lando's eyes burning into his back, and winked. The look in his eyes telling him 'we're in this together. Don't worry.'
So Lando gave a quick nod and looked away, toward his car, towards the number four on the front of it. Because boyfriend or not, he was going to beat Oscar to the championship this year.
Taglist:
@mintraindrop @papayaskye @sisuf1 @justoneatatime @f1watch @silliestf1fan @f1-chaos @neptunusnamikazus
landoscar are still smiling after lando's dnf at the dutch gp :')
landoscar + being horrendously fond
lando was literally staring, contemplating, then he GRABBED
I'm always choosing you - Landoscar
For @mintraindrop. My writing partner, the one who gives me my inspiration when I run out. My biggest supporter on this appš§”
Summary: McLaren wins it all, but Oscarās left in the shadows. The team forgets to wait ā except for Lando, who always does. Later, in the quiet after the chaos, they celebrate the only way that matters: together.
Note ā ļø: post-race emotions, hurt/comfort, overlooked Oscar, soft devotion, quiet love, Lando waiting, choosing each other always.
Singapore GP 2025 ā McLaren Constructorsā Champions
The noise is deafening. Papaya everywhere. Confetti falling like the rain that had threatened to fall all evening. Everybody from the team is still screaming in victory, jumping around, drenching each other in champagne. Zak's voice had boomed through the radio's, something about history, about back-to-back championships, about McLaren being back on top.
Oscar had simply disconnected the radio.
What a mess was that.
And if it couldn't get any worse, he also isn't on the podium when the celebrations begin.
Instead, he's in front of a cluster of microphones, answering the same handful of post-race questions with the same half-smile that's been fixed on his face for what feels like an eternity. His throat burns from the heat, his head spins from exhaustion, and his chest tightens from something heavier.
He looks to the side, at Carlos, who's watching him closely. Giving him a subtle thumbs-up in silent support as he notices the storm behind Oscar's eyes. Carlosās look says everything he canāt say aloud, a small nod that means I get it. I know how it feels to be the one they overlook. Itās the kind of understanding that hits too close to home. The reporters continue their questions at rapid fire toward him.
āYou must be thrilled for the team, Oscar,ā a reporter says, shoving the mic even closer to his lips.
āYeah,ā Oscar says, voice quiet. āItās⦠really special for everyone.ā
Everyone.
Except him, maybe.
His voice doesn't sound like his own at all.
He glances sideways, past the bright lights and cameras, past Carlos who is somehow still there, toward the podium that's shown on the big screen. Toward the crowd full of papaya colors, where the real celebration is happening.
They didnāt wait.
Of course they didnāt.
He should have known.
He told himself not to expect anything, that this was how it worked, that the team moves fast and doesnāt stop for anyone. Not even him. But still⦠it hurts. The constructorās title was theirs, his and Landoās, the product of both their relentless, back-breaking consistency, the feedback, the endless "we'll try again" pep-talks.
It was a team effort. That included everyone. That included him as well as Lando.
Yet somehow, when the moment came, it was just Lando up there. Just one half of the duo they were supposed to be.
McLaren's golden boy.
The one they always seem to put in front of the cameras first, the one they design the strategy around, the one whose name gets whispered in the meetings when things go right.
And heās fine with that, or he tells himself he is, until nights like this remind him what it feels like to be invisible.
Oscar swallows hard, the sting settling in deep.
And then ā
He sees it.
Through the blur of papaya, through the flashes, the noise and the chaos, Lando is on the top step. Heās got the bottle in one hand, grin wide ā but his eyes⦠his eyes are scanning. Searching.
For someone.
For him.
At least, that's what he thinks. What he likes to think.
Lando turns his head once, twice, his brow furrowed slightly, scanning the pit lane, the crowd, the barrier, like heās waiting for something that hasnāt happened yet. Waiting for someone who hasnāt shown up.
And Oscar freezes on the spot, eyes locked on the screen.
Because that look, that flicker of impatience, of hope, itās not for the cameras. Itās not for Zak or for the team. Itās not for the fans.
Oscar knows that look.
Itās for him.
And in that instant, the bitterness starts to unravel just a little bit. He can still feel the ache of being overlooked, of being the quiet one in a team that sometimes forgets how much he actually gives. But now itās laced with something else. Something soft. Something real.
Something that softens the edges of the sting.
Because even from up there, surrounded by everything heās ever wanted, Lando doesnāt look complete. He doesnāt look happy.
Not without him.
The anger lingers, stubborn and sharp, but itās blunted by the warmth that seeps in at the sight of Landoās searching eyes. How unfair it is that Lando can make him feel both furious and seen in the same breath. He wants to stay angry, he deserves to be, but he canāt, not when Lando looks like that.
Oscarās chest tightens at the sight. At the thought. He looks down with the softest smile, blinking fast to get back into reality, a quiet exhale leaving his lips as he finishes the last of his interview answers. His voice steadies, more warmth this time, more truth.
āI think,ā he says slowly, āthis year was about⦠trust. About knowing that no matter what happens, weāve got each otherās backs.ā
He means it.
The media didn't have to know what himself and Lando had built for themselves outside the watchful lenses of the cameras.
Carlos gives him a small, knowing smile as the reporters back off. āTheyāll never get it,ā he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for Oscar to hear. āBut he does.ā Carlos looks at the big screen. His eyes locked on Lando, still looking for Oscar.
As Lando's best friend, Carlos knew best, and Oscar believed him just by the look in those honest brown eyes. Oscar glances at him, grateful. āYeah,ā he murmurs. āHe always does.ā Carlos pats him on the shoulder. āGo. Before he burns the place down looking for you.ā
Oscar mouths a thank you before Carlos leaves him to it.
God, that man was something else sometimes.
When the cameras finally lower and the press pen empties, Oscar walks back through the paddock. The celebrations are still loud, but his world has gone quiet in comparison. Focused on just one thing. One person.
He passes crew members who are too drunk on joy to notice him, mechanics who wave absently before turning back to the chaos.
It doesnāt matter.
Because when he rounds the corner into the hospitality suite, there he is.
Lando.
He was still in his fireproofs, race suit hanging from his hips, hair soaked from champagne, eyes bright and glassy as they caught sight of Oscar. Heās leaning against the wall, two glasses in hand, grin curling in that typical Lando way.
Oscar was done for when he looked like that.
āTook you long enough,ā he spoke softly.
Oscar huffs a laugh, shaking his head. āDidnāt think youād start without me.ā
It still stung a little when he spoke the words out loud. But Lando's smile made everything feel so much lighter.
Deep down, he knew Lando would be waiting on him for a proper celebration.
āWouldnāt dare.ā Lando steps forward, moving away from the wall, handing him a glass. Their fingers brush briefly, electric, familiar and definitely longer than necessary.
āYou didnāt have to wait,ā Oscar mutters, eyes darting down. āThey all looked like they were having fun.ā
"I did,ā Lando says immediately. āI told them we should wait for you. I said it wasnāt right, not without you there. But they wouldnāt listen.ā
He actually looked defeated and frustrated at the same time.
Oscar looks up, startled by the sincerity in his tone. āYou tried?ā
āOf course, I tried.ā Landoās voice cracks on the edge of a sarcastic laugh. āI told them, āIām not popping this bottle until Oscarās here.ā They thought I was joking. I wasnāt.ā
Of course, he didn't. He's Lando. He doesn't joke when it comes to Oscar.
A silence stretches between them, heavy but warm nonetheless. Oscar swallows hard. The frustration, the ache, the guilt, it all tangles together until all thatās left is the overwhelming need to be closer to Lando.
They donāt need to say it aloud. They never did. The noise outside fades. The world shrinks down to two people standing too close in the papaya orange glow of victory.
And then Oscar does something he rarely does, he reaches for Lando, pulling him in. The hug is sudden, desperate, full of everything heās been holding back. Lando freezes for half a second before melting into it, arms circling tight around Oscarās waist.
āThank you,ā Oscar whispers against his curls, voice rough. āFor waiting. For trying. For⦠always choosing me.ā
Lando exhales shakily, forehead pressing into Oscarās shoulder. āAlways,ā he murmurs. āEven when they donāt, I will.ā
Oscar pulls back just enough to meet his eyes, searching them. āYou know theyāll always pick the one who delivers.ā Oscar whispers.
Landoās lips twitch into a sad smile.
āThen we keep delivering. Together. So they donāt get to choose.ā
Oscar huffs a small laugh, watery, sincere as he cups Lando's face between his hands. āThatās not how it works, and you know it.ā
āMaybe not,ā Lando says quietly. āBut Iāll keep trying anyway.ā
Oscar leans forward, pressing a silent kiss to Landoās forehead. Fleeting, tender, full of promise. āYou always do.ā
Back-to-back world champions.
McLaren didnāt wait. The team forgot to. But Lando didnāt.
He never does.
Oscar's hands leave Lando's face as he picks up the glass he had put down. He raises it in between them. āTo us?ā
Landoās smile softens, eyes lingering on him. āTo us. Always.ā
They clink glasses. And for the first time all night, Oscar feels it, the victory, the relief, the actual weight of what theyāve built together. The trust they had buried within each other.
Not just wins, not just points, but something stronger.
Something like a promise.
Because no matter what the team chooses, no matter how the headlines read, he knows the truth.
Theyāll always choose each other. Over and over again.
Taglist:
@mintraindrop @papayaskye @sisuf1 @justoneatatime @f1watch @silliestf1fan @f1-chaos @neptunusnamikazus
Explain to me, like isn't this THE scene that people would speak if this is like a 2 hour romance movie with the most heart broken break up ever ? Like look at them, they're not even hiding š
Sambucky comic part 3! THE FINAL PART!!!
Sambucky make up! And do some other thingsā¦
FINALLY!! After so many road bumps, the comic is finally complete š
Well, at least the story is complete, Iām planning on doing colored lineart and flat colors so I can make this a buyable physical comic! That will take a WHILE tho, in the meantime, Iāll be redrawing the earlier pages to get a consistent style throughout :)
I hope this was truly worth the wait, I think this installment looks the best since I think I finally mastered their faces š
Thank yāall so much for your support š«¶ I will keep drawing mini comics and stuff on the side in hopes of eventually getting enough of a fanbase to start up a patreon :3
I love hearing what yāall have to say so donāt be afraid to comment or repost šš±
Follow for more Sambucky content, they will be back š¼
PART TWO IS HERE!!
Highly demanded (thank you guys) so Iāve put lots of work into this installment š
Lots of emotions from our so called āhuman cyborgā, his brain is computing so hard to get his feelings across š
Iām so proud of how the comic is turning out, I have a busy week coming up so Iām not sure when the next installment will be out but trust it will come out eventually!
Remember to interact with this post!! All your comments and interactions fuel me š„
BTW Iām gonna post a poll on which direction I should go in for the finale š idk if I wanna have them get together romantically in this one or if I should extend the story line past just this comic (maybe making a series?)
Anyways love yāall and thank you for all the love on this series š
Superman & Batman scene redraw