123PixieAOD

Pixie😎👋 | she/her | Rainy SZN

[123pixieaod]

My Writing!!!!

My AO3 Fics (Multichaptered because I'm messy and can't limit myself😈🥲)

Xmen AU

Amnesia AU

Hungary 2023 GP (Daniel back on the grid lol)

Galex

My Tumblr Fics

Max!Pilot and Danie!Backpacker AU

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Hunger Games AU

Part 2

Part 3

'This Church is a Quiet Place' (Girl!Max)

Insecure Girl!Daniel

Daniel high in hospital lol

[maxielonceagain]

Max is just a giggling blushing mess 😂🥰

[fideesy]

he's been listening to "good luck, babe" for three hours now

REALLY proud of this animation, this idea has been stuck in my head since the vol 2

AND the point of this gif is that you can make him listen to any song you want (internalised homophobia playlist)

[slutforpringles]

we're SO back baby!!!! 🤪

[powerful-owl]

post-singapore maxiel body swap

Max knows before he opens his eyes. He's felt it only once before, but he recognizes the thrum of it, the off-kilter autopilot. He feels it in his blood: spinning through the chambers of his heart in a different direction, branching out in new patterns. He keeps his eyes shut and tries to memorize the rhythm of it, how Daniel's body keeps him alive.

After his first win in 2022, George swapped with Daniel. He always fucking brags about it, reminds everyone how Daniel felt cold, staticky. Which he doesn't. George is probably just used to feeling overheated and undercharged. Max could have won that race if it wasn't for his fucked undertray. Then maybe they would have swapped, maybe Daniel would have been wishing to be him when he fell asleep that night.

It was Max who caused the swap this time, probably. Staying up headache-late, falling asleep before he could stop thinking about Daniel, wondering how he was.

He's only ever swapped with Daniel.

The room is bright. No blackout curtains. No travel on the horizon, no need to block the rising sun.

The bed smells clean and nice. On the nightstand, there's a bottle of water. Glass with a silicone sleeve for a soft landing. Behind it, little white flowers in a little white vase. A phone plugged into its charger.

The lock screen is a new photo: Daniel's arms around his niece and nephew, faces lit orange from the flames of a bonfire. There's a text from someone who says they dropped off eggs.

He should call his own phone. It would be polite. But acknowledging it feels like acknowledging the first time. Waking up in Daniel's body in a warm bed of other bodies, stumbling out into the endless Montana sky, teeth chattering, spending so long wondering how to ask everything he wanted to know---what, how long, why not with me---that he ran out of time to ask anything at all.

So he snoops. Just a bit. He doesn't search his own name on Daniel's phone. He doesn't flip open the leather-wrap journal on the sofa. But he brings in the eggs. He squeezes the ripe fruit on the counter.

Of course you can't tell these things just from looking, but. Daniel seems okay.

There's no Red Bull in the fridge.

On the verandah: a pair of forgotten kids' shoes, a scary spider, a fucking weird bird.

Through Daniel's eyes, Max watches the Australian sun bloom warm and red.

[123pixieaod]

Honesty the only, and I mean this wholly with body and soul, the only good thing to come from all the bs and Daniel being forced out and everytime else, is all these testaments about him. Like it's so lovely that ofc there's the tributes for him from the other drivers and teams and the usual, but it feels extra special that there's also all these tributes from the people in the background, the 'ordinary' folks just working their 9 to 5 in the world of F1. The you and I. It's like all the fans had this silent question, the 'is he really actually as good as he seems?' and now, the translators and photographers and factory crew and all the ordinary people posting are answering. That yes, he really is this good, this kind

[slutforpringles]

Daniel with a fan on his flight home to Perth after the Singapore GP

[yesloulou]

Max holding umbrella for Daniel in the Singapore rain ☔️ | Singapore GP 2024 🇸🇬

[davidpetey]

i hope horner and marko know that the man they fumbled so horrifyingly has their 3x world champion drenched and tripping over his own feet to hold an umbrella over him :)

[powerful-owl]

[123pixieaod]

An AU (maybe, possibly) where Max was the one who told Daniel he was losing his seat

(Part 2 of The Smell of Roses)

Max found out in Baku, the same day they told Liam.

“So,” Christian ended, his hand massaging the back of his neck. “If you could keep this to yourself, we would appreciate it.”

They hadn’t wanted to tell him. But after his Instagram post with Daniel in the helicopter, he had to be let in on it. They didn’t want him soft-launching Daniel Ricciardo to the team while they were in the background busy sharpening their hatchet. Mixed messages. Bad PR for an energy drink.

“But you have told Daniel, right?”

For the first time in the conversation, Christian broke eye contact with Max. His shame was heady, almost alcoholic.

-

Rest on ao3!

[secretdonderwolk]

yeah, i've stopped wondering that this hasn't been in the works for a while now. sure, he had that rbr seat in spa but he lost his vcarb seat when that plan blew up. they knew they were going to let him go after singapore and they've known for some time, they were just hoping they could get away with not telling him until after he'd already had his last race. max knew. there's no doubt in my mind. it's no coincidence this shit first leaked to the dutch press when the rest of red bull was so desperate to keep that shit on lock. he tried to give daniel a last shred of dignity by being the one voice in the crowd saying 'hey, don't feel sorry for daniel. he's accomplished more than of you bitches' from the very beginning of this horrible horrible race weekend. wouldn't surprise me either if max was the one person who finally told him hey, like, it's legit over. no one else had the guts. daniel wasn't going to be in that rbr seat in baku, or in singapore, or after mexico. he was a dead man walking after the summer break. he just didn't know it himself.

[formulahs]

ive never seen someone be fired in such a weird way bro even logan sargeant was taken out back with more clarity and grace than this

[yellowingbread]

[123pixieaod]

The Smell of Roses - (post-Singapore)

I can't sleep and I can't not think about Daniel fighting just for that single point for Max :,)))

“I owe you a point,” Max announced as soon as the door opened.

Daniel stared, the light of his kitchen spilling onto the dark corridor, pooling around Max’s feet.

“Max,” he finally said, “mate, what the fuck?”

If you were to ask Max how he ended up outside Daniel’s apartment at 3am on a Tuesday night, he’d give you a couple of options to choose from.

The first is, of course, the race the weekend previous. His radio crackling to life as he meandered along the streets of Singapore, trying to catch his breath. Second place. Sweat soaked through his race suit, clinging to the collar and running down the groove of his spine.

Second place. Not great, but there was no catching to Lando today. Second place. Best of the losers, but sometimes he can’t do any better.

Radio. Christian, congratulating him. Telling him he couldn’t extract anything more from the car. Then, an afterthought.

“And your old pal Daniel picked up the fastest lap at the end as well, Max.”

His beat of silence before he clicked on the radio, saying the only thing he could think. “Thank you, Daniel.”

-

Or maybe the moment started seven years previous. 2016, just after the German Grand Prix. Max’s first podium shared with Daniel. From podium to alone in a Red Bull conference room, a few days later and waiting for a meeting to commence. Daniel, leaning back in the office chair, throwing his cap in the air, catching it. Max sitting across, watching. The arch of the cap, navy and red splitting the air. Higher and higher. Daniel aiming to hit the ceiling and still catch it. Max, just watching. Always watching, always in awe.

“Excited for the race?” Daniel asked lazily, head still tilted back as he caught the cap. Max still watching, free to memorise the outline of his Adam’s apple.

“Sure,” he replied, a beat too slow.

“Just so you know, because you’re actually catching up to me in points now, I’m afraid I won’t be able to let you win so much now,” Daniel gave Max a smile, joking but also tinged with something cut-throat. Max smiled back, unsure why. A reaction. Flower opening to the sun. A moth fluttering to a flame. Inescapable, unstoppable.

“I’m going to fight for every point,” Daniel continued, tossing the cap up again. It made a soft noise as it finally bumped against the ceiling tile. He whooped, catching it, grinning at Max. “See that?”

“Very impressed.”

“Yeah,” Daniel agreed, setting the cap on his styled curls. Smooth skin, light brushing of stubble. Bright eyes, an even brighter smile. Alight from the inside out. “Just like I caught that cap, I’ll catch all the points. Like a Pokémon trainer, gotta catch them all.” He laughed. “Just so you know.”

“Noted.”

“I’m getting all the points now. The honeymooning period is over, baby!” Daniel grinned, and Max was saved from a reply by the door opening, Helmut finally arriving.

-

Or maybe it was a few years later. Christian inviting Max to have breakfast at his table. Turkey, 2020, and Max had qualified second, but fucked up the start. Second to eight in a single second. Then, after making up precious places, stupidly losing control and spinning. Three pit stops later, and managed to drag the car to sixth place. His only race that season where he finished and didn’t get on the podium. His own fucking fault. Lewis, Checo, Sebastian spraying champagne, and Max ruined his racing gloves by pelting them so hard against the garage wall the seam tore.

“You really should take stock in your sixth place,” Christian said, buttering a croissant. “Eight points are valuable.”

“They’re useless,” Max muttered. Arms crossed, stubbornly refusing to touch his anaemic-looking spinach omelette. “They’re not exactly twenty-five points. Not much against Hamilton’s 307 points.”

If he had come first and Bottas hadn’t finished, he’d have gone up. Elevated finally to second in the championship. His first time ever being just one standing below the victor. But he fucked it. Now, there’s 27 points between him and Bottas. The gap growing, because he’s a fucking idiot driver.

“They’re not useless,” Christian said patiently, reaching for a little pot of jam. “Points are points.”

“Yeah, well, I’d rather take home 25 points rather than eight,” Max muttered, and Christian finally looked up, setting down his cutlery.

“Do you know Shakespeare?”

Max wrinkled his nose. “Shakespeare?”

“The English poet,” Christian replied, as if that was a perfectively normal conversation change.

“Of course I do. Romeo and Juliet and all that shit.”

Christian raised an eyebrow.

“Stuff,” Max amended.

“Perhaps you may have heard this quote,” he went on, finally beginning to spread the jam on his croissant. Max watched the action, his pale fingers holding the knife, dragging it back and forth over the buttery flakes. “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. Have you heard of it?”

Sometimes, Max forgot his team principal went duck shooting and rode his own purebred horses in his downtime.

“No,” Max said. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s from Romeo and Juliet. And I like to think the quote can be extended also to F1 points. It doesn’t matter how many you get, or even how you get them. As long as you get them. As long as you stop your rivals from achieving them. No matter how many. Even a single point. Points, by any other name, would still smell as sweet.”

Max frowned, utterly lost. “We should call points something different? A codename? Is this like a strategy to confuse the other teams on the radio?”

Christian smiled, eyes creased. “Something like that, sure.”

-

Daniel has a rose tattoo. It’s on his thumb, small and dark and perfect. Max can see it now, the dark lines etched into his tanned skin. He’s holding the door open, fingers against door’s side, thumb facing Max.

A tiny rose.

-

Maybe, he has to go even further back to figure out why he’s here. Back to the very beginning.

At a carting track, sitting on a discarded wheel. His father kneeling in front of him, hand on his knees.

“How could you just like that boy get the better of you?” He was saying, voice low and urgent. “I didn’t raise a pussy, Max. Or did I?”

Max shook his head, but his dad was already continuing.

“Why didn’t you go for that opening at corner five? And don’t act like a bitch and say you were scared of crashing. There was enough space. And if there wasn’t, you make the space. Force the other driver to move. Nine times out of ten, a driver would rather get out of your way than have you crash into him. Why didn’t you push him? You could’ve Max, and then you would have an actual trophy, and not this plastic shit. Second?” He scoffed. “Fastest fucking loser. Say it back to me, Max.”

“Fastest fucking loser,” he mumbled.

“Good. Now, tell me. Why didn’t you do that move? No, don’t shrug like that. I was an answer.”

“I -“ Max’s tongue felt ten times heavier than usual. “I don’t -“

“You do know, because you did it. Tell me.”

“I… I didn’t… We are friends, and I did not -“

“Friends!” His father barked out a laugh, and then leaned close. “Listen Max. There’s no friends in racing. Do you know where having friends lead you too? Here, sat outside on the fucking ground when your friend takes photos with his trophy. It gets you fastest fucking loser. There are no friends in carting, no friends in F1. Nothing is genuine in this sport. And if you think it is, you’ll about to wake up with a knife in your back and dead last in every race. Now, which one would you prefer? Being last and having friends, or winning? Do you want to be a winner, Max?”

“Yes.”

“Then stop being a fucking pussy.”

-

Daniel congratulated him on his second world championship. Hugging him properly, arms wrapped around his shoulder, squeezing. Pulling away to grin.

“You really are the fucking goat,” teasing, but genuine. A warm flush across his already bronze complexion. Hand still clamped on Max’s shoulder. “Congratulations mate.”

Max trying to remember how to reply.

-

Or maybe it was GP trying to get Max to have a sit-down meeting with him on data feedback. 2019, and Max didn’t want to hear any of it.

“Fine. Please, you tell me what you want to do at the next race, and we’ll do it,” GP replied casually, good at hiding his annoyance. “Let me know. Sets, fuel, run plan.”

Max clenched his jaw, and the older man sighed. “Listen, I’m trying to help - “

“I don’t need help,” Max snapped. GP blinked at him.

“Max,” he said softly, as if breaking bad news. “Everyone needs help.”

“I don’t.”

He gave him a look, somewhere between pity and amusement. “Everyone needs help,” he repeated.

-

So yes, if you were to ask how he ended up here, outside Daniel’s door at 3am the weekend after the Singapore GP, Max would say there’s a few reasons.

“I owe you a point,” he repeated stubbornly. “You got the fastest lap in Singapore. You took the point away from Lando and McLaren and their fight for my title. So, I owe you a point.”

“Mate,” Daniel said, blinking, “sorry but let me repeat myself again. What the fuck?”

ao3

[123pixieaod]

HELLO 💕💕💕

One of my fave maxiel stories is back 🥹🥹🥹🥹

I am so happy and so happy that i subscribed to it on ao3 lol

Now I have two? Question

Will this havr a happy ending? we know for maxiel due to the first chapter, but what about the others?

Second one, how many years does this play out over? Like from the very first chapter

Thirdly, will the others ever trust max again? Will we found out more about charles?

Fourth, will there be some more backgrounds thingies about the others?

I love them all and want to know more about them 💕💕🫶

Love it and can't wait for the entire story

Hello!!! Thank you so much for this ask!🫶 and thank you also so much for the kind words, and the subscription!!!! Because my mind is messy and I can't concentrate on one fic haha I have a few maxiel fics floating about, but I'm going to presume you're talking about the xmen one! (If not just send another ask and I'd be more than happy to answer these questions about any other of my fics :))

Question 1 - happy ending?

Haha I'm going to give a very annoying answer and be very vague about this 😅 I think it really depends on how happy you want it, the first chapter is from maxs pov with clear amnesia, so something happens in the final few chapters to give him that sort of condition! But I would consider his ending good, despite that moment! And as for the other characters, I would largely say yes, they do (mostly) get happy ending! After all, I was a Disney child growing up, my mind is prewired for happy endings 😅🥰

Question 2 -how many years?

The main story will be over a year I think? But again, the main story is in itself a flashback of Max's. So overall, the story goes over about 25 years? But a lot of that is Max's past and early memories, and Max's life post-plot!

Question 3 - the others and Charles

The others' trust of Max is very closely linked to Max's trust of them. So i think as the story progresses and he relaxes (and even begins to like some of them!), they return this sentiment and trust him. And yes, I love Charles! I think of him as a sort of foil to Max's character, and he's as important to Daniel to the plot

Question 4 - more background

Yes!!! I loved creating their backstories! They all have their histories, and some will be exploded in further details than others. For example, Charles' background will feature a lot more. Also, I have to thank you because your ask inspired me to stay editing a new chapter! This one has Mick's background, so thank you for this ask and for motivating me 🫶

Thank you again for the ask! I hope I answered your questions, but do let me know if there's anything I should clarify or any other questions! (Or suggestions on characters' backgrounds!) And thank you also for all your kind words and support on the story 🥰🫶

[supermaks]

If Danny rics last record on the good book is a FL he pulled out of his ass just to help max against a vastly superior machine driven by his former teammate I truly believe he’s invented a new type of a love . A new type of love

[supermaks]

Sorry. sorry. A new type of love that is both a confession and an execution. An act of service that cost him nothing because nothing was all he had left to give. He had one last coin in his pocket and he put it on Max's name. He bet on Max 1 last time. sorry. Its the oldest story in the world and its never been told by the 1 who stays. Its always gotta be the one who he leaves, to give it meaning, to make it true, to make it die. And danny ric put on soft tires and made it eternal. It'll never die. A new type of love that is as small as 1 point, as big as one lap around singapore. 1 last lap. A new type of love. His last lap was the fastest of the race and it took him 9 years to cross the checkered flag. sorry . sorry. its all he had left.