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maximejaz.bsky.social
Maxime Jaz🌈🏳️‍⚧️
@maximejaz.bsky.social
3.1K followers 2.6K following 3.7K posts
Non-binary trans masc. Bi. He/They. Author of queer erotic romance🔥 I write about guys falling in love in various spaces and times.
Love conquers all. 🏳️‍🌈🔞
https://linktr.ee/MaximeJaz
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maximejaz.bsky.social
Maxime Jaz🌈🏳️‍⚧️ @maximejaz.bsky.social · Oct 2
"The thing is you don't write meet-cute-three-tropes-done romances, you write more complex stuff..." (courtesy of Bjorn Larssen) so if you're into more complex stuff, dive into the Maximeverse™️.🔥🌈❤️
3rd person, past tense, multi, omni POV, head-hopping, poetic prose. 😘
linktr.ee/MaximeJaz
Top in white handwritten font Maxime Jaz Sweeping love stories filled with pleasure and pain. From left to right mockups of the books Omnia Vincit trilogy Book 1,2,3 Donum, a young man half-naked head lowered, golden skin. Avis Aurea, two men half-naked, one embracing the other from the back. Pulsus Cordis Mei a Roman general sitting in his armor. Fall- an acrobat doing a handstand on a trapeze swing. Home- two men’s lips locking on top, in greyscale, a storm in the background and a frothy sea under their faces. Khirion- There are three characters in the middle, naked, they are only visible to the shoulders, and chest for the left one. Two men framing a woman. In Aeternum - greyscale photo of two men kissing, blood between their lips. In Aeternum Maxime Jaz Author of Donum in black letters His Lordship’s coachman – two men lying, their faces close, hands on one’s chest Sentence for Life- a muscled tattooed man stands on black background, leaning against a wall like structure. His thumb is hooked in the pocket of his low cut pants. Christmas Carols – a man in a hooded jacket stands in the snow on a city street, facing buildings and city lights. His back is to us. Eros- two men in a torn frame lying together on a backdrop of Greek temple, blue sky and sea, pink bougainvillea KU logo Books are framed by a rainbow frame
maximejaz.bsky.social
#WritingPrompt
My books have all sorts of injuries, but maybe one of the fucked up ones is Darven's in my fantasy Khirion who is going through a ritual (led by the undead Khraal) to embrace a sliver of necromancy. 2 texts)(cw restraints,cutting, blood, drinking blood, suffering,hitting )
“Nobody has ever passed the last test. I lied too. They joined my army of the dead. But you managed. Which brings a new era to Andarakh. And new powers to you, khirion. Now, drink and lie back. I need to shackle you, so you don’t leap from that table.” “You said it’s painful.” “That is a statement not to be underestimated.” Darven drank, grimacing at that bitter taste. He lay back, the lights and shadows dancing above him. “What… what did you give me?” “Something to help numb the pain.” He shackled Darven to that stone slab by his wrists and ankles. Patting the chains. “Tight and strong.” He took a large dagger from his belt, the very same Darven had used in that last room. The chanting amplified then, words Darven could not understand, shivering with cold and fear. “Ready?” “I don’t know…” “I need to have an answer, khirion.” Fed up, losing his voice almost as the world turned. “Yes… ready…” Darven howled at the pain, the first cut down his left thigh, slicing across. Blood rushed out, dark, sliding into the rivulets, feeding into those holes in the ground. Khraal’s soft chanting. His right thigh, the pain like lightning, something he had never felt before. He arched his back, tugging at his shackles, but they held tight. “Stop! Stop!” But Khraal didn’t listen, sliding the dagger up to his arm, cutting deep. More blood. Chanting. Darven gulped in air, moaning, tears rushing down his face. Gods… The lights dancing as his ears buzzed. Another cut, the left arm. Trembling as his blood left him, that cool cold invading his body. “Repeat the words.” “I… I can… can’t…” Whispers, but Khraal slapped him awake. “Repeat the words.” Darven's lips trembled, waiting, trying to keep his eyes open as he swam into that sea of pain. “God of Death, I surrender to you…” “God of Death, I surrender to you…” A mere whisper, his lips bubbling up his bloodied saliva where he had bitten his cheeks. “Fill me with your power.” “Fill… me with your power….” His whispers died in the increasing chanting. “Take my blood as offering.” “Take my blood as offering…” Khraal lifted a large cup above his head, but Darven could barely see, his vision blurring as his mind was trying to go. Khraal’s voice, deep. “It is done.” Chanting. Darven saw the cup tilt, blood pouring out. His eyes went wide but that warm blood just poured on his face, hitting his parted lips. A thirst there he had never known, so he opened his mouth, wide, letting it splatter into it, gulping it down as it soaked his face, his hair. More. A steady stream as he drank, blinded by blood, his eyes shut tight at that steady warm stream. Drinking until he felt full, his flesh pulsing, filled to the brim. Heaving, licking his lips when it stopped. Feeling his shackles pop open. “Rise, khirion.”
November 14, 2025 at 4:32 PM
maximejaz.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
From my office romance WIP. Cole tells Jean-Pierre he can go with him on the business trip to France.
Cole sighed. “I told Lorrie and all is good.” Losing his words a bit when Jean-Pierre turned to him. “I mean, I can go with you on the trip.” Jean-Pierre grinned. “She didn’t bite your head off?” “It’s not Natalie, so… It’s fine. I’ll have to help more when I get home, that’s all. It’s fair.” Jean-Pierre rolled his eyes as he broke some pieces of chocolate into their cups. “What a nightmare this sounds like, but it’s your life, my friend.” He let the machine churn the coffee into a cup, then handed it to Cole. “But we’ll have a great time in France, I’ll make sure of it.” Cole took the cup, wrapping his hands around that warmth. “if Natalie had said yes, would you have taken her?” Jean-Pierre waited until his coffee poured out, than turned and handed a spoon to Cole. “No. I like Mademoiselle but have no interest in sharing a week with her.” His eyes burned a bit as he stirred his coffee, pulling the spoon out filled with melted dark chocolate. He swirled his tongue on it, not leaving Cole’s eyes. Smiling then. “Taste it.” Cole fished some chocolate out and licked his spoon clean, his face burning a bit. “It’s good.” Looking up into Jean-Pierre’s eyes, his heart racing. “But you would spend a week with me…?” Jean-Pierre smiled. “Not only I would, but I will. It will do you good, to be away a bit. Family life can be draining, I imagine. We get along well, as guys, so all is golden.” Cole blushed a bit. “It’s our social tomorrow too…” “Oh, I’ve seen your name.” Grinning, he sipped his coffee. “I’m thrilled you could free yourself.” Cole shrugged. “Lorrie knows we have this every year.” “I hope you like dancing.” He wiggled his eyebrows, scraping the chocolate from the bottom of his empty cup. Sucking it off the spoon with a loud smack. “No… I don’t dance, usually…” “Oh, too bad. Dancing is very liberating.”
November 14, 2025 at 11:27 AM
Reposted by Maxime Jaz🌈🏳️‍⚧️
johannestevans.bsky.social
This Sunday! Sexy gay disabled men are FUCKING!

johannestevans.co.uk/2025/11/13/t...
Three sleeps ’til disabled hotties getting gay with it in paperback!
An Uncommon Betrothal is releasing in paperback this Sunday the 16th! The book is about a lonely and isolated disabled gentleman, Alexos Fox, who basically buries himself in his classical study and…
johannestevans.co.uk
November 13, 2025 at 9:32 PM
maximejaz.bsky.social
#WritingPrompt
This is the first time the MCs of my current gladiator WIP (yes, it's Ancient Rome again, unsurprisingly...) can exchange a few words. It's also hurt-comfort with some tender wound care and yeaaarrrrning. (cw wound, pain)
Rufus was holding that pot of thick cream, meeting his amused eyes. Almost fainting, but he pushed his fingers in that coolness, and dared to put them on his wound. A soft slide, pushing the cream on that murdered skin. Watching him clench his jaw, silent. “I’m sorry…” Soft, daring this as he glanced around, but the room was busy with the doctor and some other slaves helping him and Varrus pestering the men. Looking back at him, straight into his eyes. “Thank you.” Deep, those few words made his heart warm. “It’s nothing...” Making sure that every stroke of his fingers was a caress too, making sure not to be too harsh as he smeared that cream all over his wound. Looking around, he took a bandage, and wrapped it around that thick arm. He had to lift it and the scent of his sweat made Rufus breathe shallow, that patch of dark hair under his armpit, so close. Making sure the wound was covered, he knotted that strip of fabric, patting it, soft. “All good?” “Yes.” Raising his eyebrows, his eyes asking. “I’m Rufus.” Daring a small smile when his heart was dancing. Whispering. “I know your name…” This time, he got the shadow of a smile, but they had also heard Varrus so Brutus stood, and walked away before anyone could notice anything. Rufus watched his broad back, the love handles bulging over his belt, his thick thighs, and he had to swallow. Damn it… That young heart, leaping like a colt.
November 13, 2025 at 5:43 PM
Reposted by Maxime Jaz🌈🏳️‍⚧️
bjornlarssen.com
#WIPSnips Today’s snippet continues from right where the last one ended. I like having Gunnars in my books.

#NorseMythology won’t know what hit it…

Book I:
→ www.whyodindrinks.com
“Gunnar,” interrupted the chieftain’s wife. “Have some manners. May I offer you more water, Your Grace?” “Actually, yes,” said Freya, surprising herself. She hadn’t drunk water as good and clear for many winters. The Jötunheim water tasted fresh even before it became mint tea. “And more wood on the fire.” Gunnar fulfilled her wish with such enthusiasm Freya had to stop him from burning everything in the building, including the building itself. His wife refilled Freya’s clay mug – something Freya would never touch if it didn’t contain this water – and stared at the Goddess, doe-eyed. They both loved her more than life itself, with the sort of quiet, breathless love that wouldn’t dream of saying ‘heh, heh’. Freya briefly appreciated both Bragi and Odin’s spying that led to fixing the damage before it finished occurring. She didn’t come here to bask in the warmth of adoration, though, but in search for information.
November 13, 2025 at 5:24 PM
Reposted by Maxime Jaz🌈🏳️‍⚧️
bjornlarssen.com
Introduction to The Hollow Flame:

ko-fi.com/post/Stories...
Stories from The Hollow Flame
Bjørn Larssen published a post on Ko-fi
ko-fi.com
November 13, 2025 at 5:16 PM
Reposted by Maxime Jaz🌈🏳️‍⚧️
jangoeswriting.bsky.social
The only thing that concerned Dylan was whether The Enemy or his ‘navy’ had the greater #number of ships. The Enemy weren’t that much more advanced, or that much better at fighting. It came down to pluck and spirit and who had more shooty things.

They seemed unending, though. Too many.

#vss365
November 13, 2025 at 9:29 AM
maximejaz.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
From my horsey WIP.
Finnegan's asshole rich father arrives at the barn to tell Beau off and warn him not to be rude to his son again. It obviously doesn't go as planned. (cw rude parent, sexist comments)
Beau pulled back his glove. “Well, I run this place, so he got what he deserved. And he will get what he deserves if he continues behaving like an entitled asshole.” Giving him a look, letting his words sink in. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do… don’t have time to chatter.” Looking at that hand which had grabbed his arm. Back into those green eyes. “Watch your mouth. I kicked out men for less than that.” Beau grabbed that hand and squeezed it as he peeled it off, watching the other man’s face blanch. “Good thing then I don’t work for you.” He took his hand, rubbing it. “This is not the last time you heard of me.” “Sure hope so.” He spat at his feet, missing those polished shoes by a small inch. “Have a nice day.” He picked the horse’s foot up, the hoof chips flying into the sun. Emmett Carlson turned to his son. “What a shithole! It’s only temporary. We should have at least one of the stables built back up in spring.” “Spring? I can’t stay here that long! You’ve seen this mess… not to mention that asshole.” “You don’t have a choice, Finnegan. And man up. Don’t let cowboys trample all over you. Nigel said you’re struggling with Lancelot? That horse cost a fortune.” Finnegan frowned. “We’ll get there… he’s just a bit stubborn but I’ll break him in soon enough.” “I sure hope so. I expect that you do decently this weekend, considering what I paid for that horse. But if he doesn’t work out, we’ll sell it and buy you one which is less of a pest.” “Lance can do the work, he’s just nervous… everything is new, and this place sucks. He’s used to his warm baths and the solarium after… just like I was… Could we build a mini spa here?” His father patted his cheek. “Don’t be too smart… you can relax at home. The Dawsons are coming to the competition then for dinner. I gather it might be time to start courting their daughter properly.” Finnegan rolled his eyes, whilst his friends grinned. “Dad…” “You won’t stay a bachelor, Finnegan. Not with your status. A woman in wh…
November 13, 2025 at 2:52 PM
maximejaz.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
From my age gap scandal WIP.
Siegfried just put his deceased father's house up for sale and then he surprises Charles with sneaking up to his house by the back door, and Charles let's him in. (mild nsfw)
Siegfried just pushed his finger on his lips, sliding to his knees, those eyes in their black frames on Charles. His hands slid to Charles’ ass, pulling, biting his hipbone. Charles swallowed a yelp, bracing himself on his shoulders. In a mild shock when Siegfried bit his way up his body. Wide nips and licks as he pushed his shirt up, gliding his mouth on Charles’ skin. Hooking his hands in Charles’ belt, he pulled him to his knees, latching on his nipple, hard. Charles bit back a cry, lacing his hands on Siegfried’s head somewhere under his shirt. Panting as he ate him up. “Slow down… Jesus…” Eyes wide when he got tipped back, pushed down on the carpet. Siegfried lay on him, smiling, that soft voice. “Or else?” Taming his eyes. “I want to fuck you so badly right here on your Persian carpet… but… you’re not ready to take cock yet.” “I might be.” Hurt a bit, dead scared. Siegfried grinned, smoothing his hair back. “How sweet. And bold. But no, you’re not… I want first to eat you out, make that hole all soft for me…” Pushing his mouth on Charles’, kissing him, deep. “But maybe… you might be ready for me…” “What…” That question, cut in half by the bell. Charles almost fainted. Siegfried raised his eyes. “Oh… awaiting company?” “No…” Another ring, a voice, shrill. “Charles?” “It’s Gloria.” “Your mother-in-law?” Laughing softly. “Oh, fuck.” Charles almost died of fright but Siegfried got off him. “I’ll disappear upstairs.” A soft wink, and he was gone like a shadow.
November 12, 2025 at 11:47 AM
maximejaz.bsky.social
#WritingPrompt
If my characters don't play their story, I don't write, and usually reread what I wrote or my WIPs. If writing is difficult because life gets in the way, I usually go on a walk with my dog or go and see my horse.
cometkins.bsky.social Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨ @cometkins.bsky.social · 3d
What something you do to cheer yourself up when the writing is difficult? #WritingPrompt
November 12, 2025 at 9:30 AM
Reposted by Maxime Jaz🌈🏳️‍⚧️
johannestevans.bsky.social
SOOOO ready for the paperback launch of this baby coming this Sunday, here in Leeds!

Wine and cheese have been ORDERED! Preorders have been dispatched! Books are ready to be stamped and signed! Just printed some last posters to put up around the city tomorrow!

#BookSky
an uncommon betrothal by johannes t evans for £3.99 on www.johannestevans.co.uk/shop - disabled joy and body positivity through chronic pain and sexual exploration. alexos fox, an introverted academic and polio survivor, is naturally quite sad when the long-time butler of his household, the man who all but raised him, retires. he is not at all prepared for the old man's replacement: his exceedingly attractive and painfully tempting nephew. m/m eroti romance, rated E, 100k. set 1927, primarily in west sussex, england. BOOK LAUNCH: AN UNCOMMON BETROTHAL BY JOHANNES T EVANS a gentleman polio survivor falls in love and lust with his sexy new butler in 1920s england. erotic romance featuring joyful queerness and disability. sunday 16th november. 6pm until 10pm. wharf chambers members club, leeds. disability rep, chronic pain, body positivity, mobility aids, butler/gentleman relationship. gay trans disabled author. author reading & q&a signed books for sale wine & cheese you must be a whard member or guest of a member to attend. joining costs £2. see wharchambers.org/membership
November 11, 2025 at 11:10 PM
Reposted by Maxime Jaz🌈🏳️‍⚧️
maximejaz.bsky.social
My current obsession... 😩😌❤️‍🔥🌈
Moodboard on a semi transparent layered background of arena sand, a Roman arena, and gladiators on a mosaic, blood spatter on top. On the left a man's grey eye, under it in greyscale a man's muscled back, hands in the back, caption in script Brutus. On the right an emaciated man's back and spine, hands on his shoulders, under it a man's blue eye ina ray of light. In the middle a round picture on a stronger man's arm on another man's shoulder. Behind the pic on the right, a chain graphic, on the left a gladius. Bottom middle text Maxime Jaz. Top: quote: “If you win that freedom one day, will you take me with you?” Brutus grinned, pushing his palm on his cheek. “Yes.” “Promise?” His face blurring. “I promise.”
November 11, 2025 at 8:34 PM
maximejaz.bsky.social
My current obsession... 😩😌❤️‍🔥🌈
Moodboard on a semi transparent layered background of arena sand, a Roman arena, and gladiators on a mosaic, blood spatter on top. On the left a man's grey eye, under it in greyscale a man's muscled back, hands in the back, caption in script Brutus. On the right an emaciated man's back and spine, hands on his shoulders, under it a man's blue eye ina ray of light. In the middle a round picture on a stronger man's arm on another man's shoulder. Behind the pic on the right, a chain graphic, on the left a gladius. Bottom middle text Maxime Jaz. Top: quote: “If you win that freedom one day, will you take me with you?” Brutus grinned, pushing his palm on his cheek. “Yes.” “Promise?” His face blurring. “I promise.”
November 11, 2025 at 8:34 PM
maximejaz.bsky.social
Fresh discovery: In the small help icon in Canva, click it, ask if AI images can be filtered, it will say no and bring up a Make a wish button, you can send it in to the dev team. Let's flood their asses because this can't stay!
screenshot of Canva help we've got your wish Thanks for telling us more about your wish. We've sent it off to our team of magic makers and we'll let you know if it comes true
November 11, 2025 at 6:06 PM
maximejaz.bsky.social
What happened to Canva image search?? Tearing my hair out... Finding irrelevant pics, half of them shitty AI slop??? Whaaaat? 🫠😩
a close up of a man with long hair and a beard making a face .
Alt: a close up of a man with long hair and a beard making a face .
media.tenor.com
November 11, 2025 at 5:51 PM
maximejaz.bsky.social
I don't choose their names, they do and introduce themselves. In my single dads WIP, the MCs are called Frank and Benedict. In my sci fi dystopian one, the MCs are River and Ciel.
zprospero.bsky.social Zed Prospero @zprospero.bsky.social · 3d
What's your MC's name and why did you pick it for them? (Feel free to list other characters too!)

#WritingQ #WriteSky
November 11, 2025 at 5:03 PM
maximejaz.bsky.social
I bring this energy to the chat.
a man wearing a hood and a mask looks at the camera
Alt: a man wearing a hood and a mask looks at the camera
media.tenor.com
November 11, 2025 at 3:11 PM
maximejaz.bsky.social
My gladiator WIP has escaped and now there's no way this is "just a short fic", muhahahhahaha!
November 11, 2025 at 3:11 PM
Reposted by Maxime Jaz🌈🏳️‍⚧️
johannestevans.bsky.social
One of the fucked up things about the intersection of misogyny & the ingrained societal hatred of transmasculinity is how much cis society like. Demands perceived sexual availability or desirability from the transmasculine or gender nonconforming

"Ugliness" is punished and insulted and undercut
November 11, 2025 at 2:22 PM
maximejaz.bsky.social
Satan steals the show but I also have this derpy who rarely let's me take pics.🤣❤️
Tabby cat looking up with big whiskers
November 11, 2025 at 1:49 PM
Reposted by Maxime Jaz🌈🏳️‍⚧️
jangoeswriting.bsky.social
I had to put this in last night. 😬 No burgers in this setting, but they do have sandwiches. 😁

From ‘Reign, Dear’.

#WiPSnips
“Forgive my interruption, sir, but I fear the evening closes in and I believe another snow shower approaches.” He had a big overcoat folded over his arm and then began wrapping it around Boulder’s shoulders. “I have taken the liberty, sir, of soliciting the service of a small cart to return us to the palace. I have a sandwich, for the return journey, and a flask of brandy, should the chill grow too frigid. After you, sir.” Boulder didn’t have the strength to fight against it. He sloped back toward where the villagers had continued to organise the search for Old Man Hobble, now that the distraction of the ‘Queen’ had gone. Good people. Proud people, who didn’t deserve to have royalty making them feel like they were lesser because of their place in society. Not even fake royalty. It was getting dark, and cold, and he accepted the brandy. He needed a drink. T’was the eleventh night of Festivus, and all through the village nothing stirred that night. Except for a large amount of people with butterfly nets. A wish was a wish, after all.
November 11, 2025 at 9:00 AM
maximejaz.bsky.social
One of my favorite movies!... 31 years... Fuck I'm old. 😭🤣
theblogginggoth.bsky.social The Blogging Goth @theblogginggoth.bsky.social · 3d
#InterviewWithTheVampire was released on this day, 31 years ago.
November 11, 2025 at 12:16 PM
maximejaz.bsky.social
Paging @danifinnwrites.bsky.social !
helenczerski.bsky.social Helen Czerski @helenczerski.bsky.social · 3d
Oh, I love this. A new species of sea anemone was discovered recently that parks itself on top of a hermit crab shell like a hat. It seems to feed partly off the crab's faeces, but it also excretes a hard shell that extends the crab's home. In return, it's carried around the seafloor like a king.
Pictures of a pink sea anemone sitting on top of a hermit crab shell.
November 11, 2025 at 11:16 AM
maximejaz.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
Buck is a real foodie in my trucker WIP.
After getting his food and walking back to his truck, he's stopped by a young guy in run-down clothes and cheap make-up. Even if Buck doesn't want to do anything with him, he takes pity on him and invites him to warm up in the truck. (cw eating)
“Trouble?” He sort of knew, reaching his hand out, his thumb swiping softly a dark spot near his left eye. Seeing that small flinch of his face. “And what’s this?” That heat of his skin made him weak a bit. “Make-up.” “Right…” Cursing himself internally as he opened the door. “Hop in… but we won’t do anything, ok? You warm up, I eat, and then maybe I’ll give you some change.” “Fine!” So eager, it kicked at his heart, but he just smirked, stepping up, pulling himself up. He put the bag down and reached his hand out. “Come.” Pulling, surprised that he seemed to weigh nothing. He sat in the driver’s seat, and took the bag as that young man settled, his eyes roaming around. “When have you eaten last?” Rummaging in the bag. He licked his lips. “This morning.” A smooth lie, his arms clenched around his body. Musing a bit, a sigh, as he took his fries out and handed it to him. “Here. Eat.” He raised a thin hand, the nails painted dark purple with glitter. “No… I can’t…” “Eat or I’ll kick your ass out. That’s the deal.” Gaging, but those light blue eyes under his dark hair never wavered, his hand holding that large portion of fries. He took it, his heart beating harder. “Thanks…” He just nodded, fishing that large, dripping burger out of the bag. He bit into it, holding back a moan, because of that guy. But alone, he would have moaned and kicked a bit too. Food was everything. It was salvation and happiness, and more. Letting the savour burst in his mouth, on his tongue, all those notes of meat, bacon and cheese mixing with the pickles, tomatoes and the sauce, and the sweetness of the buns. Heaven, heaven… Glancing at that young guy who had gingerly picked a fry out and was chewing on it softly. Going for more as his cheeks colored. It made him all warm too, to watch him eat. Curious too, as he could not even understand why the fuck he had this guy in his truck in the first place. He had never had a prostitute, ever.
November 11, 2025 at 11:12 AM
Reposted by Maxime Jaz🌈🏳️‍⚧️
bjornlarssen.com
SOME good news from there.
November 10, 2025 at 6:30 PM