🥇 What scene were you most excited to write? Did it end up being the one you enjoyed writing the most? For any of your fics or one of your most favourite ones cause I love all of them and can’t choose
-bloop
hmm my bad memory strikes once again but i think i can name a few
the summoning scene in ad incubum ad veritatem. i was so excited to write it because it was inspired by a song! i think if came out pretty well, i miss writing horror-esque things because they always have a cadence in my mind that i can follow
the whole fic for day 13 of kinktober. i mentioned it in the notes before the fic, but i had that scene in my head since i first saw the post that inspired it - back before i haven't started writing. so finally getting to write it felt like a huge achievement for me. i think it came out pretty okay too, but i was more excited by the fact that i could write it at all
looking through a two-way mirror, particularly that moment where daniel comes on max's helmet. another one of those ideas i had in my head for ages. it was nice to not only write that vision, but write my first smut fic in general
🔎 What detail(s) in the story are you particularly captivated with? Is there any behind the scenes info or backstory?
for demon keep! i think it's been a logn while since you last posted about it but that concept of max keeps (hah) popping up in my head every now and then because it feels like such a unique au idea (and i like max learning how to be a "person" in his human-ish form after being a Not-Human-Thing for so many years)
oooh okay okay funny you mention demon keep because i was literally talking about it in the last ask ahsha
okay so i think the btw part of the question is easier to answer. this au is a very weird amalgamation of my interests a few years ago, and its literally
witcher series (the netfix one... i know, im sorry) + the beetlejuice musical (i still have full animations in my head set to the songs from it) + probably the encanto movie? i had to get the idea of a living house from somewhere = an oc -> i put max into it -> demon keep au
okay now the details im captivated with part. i think its not ever about max for me, but about the residents of the keep learning that all of those things they thought the keep did or were just normal are actually max
like i remember in one of the parts i write about daniel falling asleep to the humm of magic. that was actually max humming a lullaby!
or just if you reread the first part of the au, but keep in mind that its max doing all those things. putting up haystacks to soften the fall or opening windows in the kitchen because its too hot or shielding someone during a fight
max cares for his residents <3 because they care for him
💭 If you could wish into creation a transformative piece for your story, made by a real human who isn’t you, what would it be? Art, video, sequel, podfic, etc.
okay so i hope im understanding this question correctly, but my one true wish would be for someone to make fan art inspired by my fics!
i am such a visual person and a lot of times i have a vision in my head about how a character or a scene looks
i think the one au that fits fanart the best would be demon keep au, because the original idea was inspired by an oc i have. and i have a lot of drawings for them and their story ahsha. but others as well like the animal split au or incubus max!
❓No dumb questions amnesty - can you explain this [line/dialogue/moment from the story]?
🏴☠️ Were there any points in which your characters tried (or succeeded) to commit mutiny against your planned plot? Where did they most want to rebel?
🥇 What scene were you most excited to write? Did it end up being the one you enjoyed writing the most?
🙏 Was there anything your character(s) really really really wanted to do? Did you let them?
🍆 What scene do you think was the hottest? What scene do you think your readers thought was the hottest? Are they the same?
🔮Have you imagined what happens to [character(s)] in the future? Or does the story only exist to you as a moment in time?
🔎 What detail(s) in the story are you particularly captivated with? Is there any behind the scenes info or backstory?
🧭 What was the key choice or decision you had to make for this story? If you had chosen differently, what would the story have turned into?
📖 Could the story have been a different length? What would you have included/removed?
🫂How would the story have changed if you wrote it for [this pairing] instead?
💭 If you could wish into creation a transformative piece for your story, made by a real human who isn’t you, what would it be? Art, video, sequel, podfic, etc.
📋What was your main goal for the story and/or writing experience? Do you think that you achieved it?
🎤 Do you think the story was written in your typical voice? Why or why not?
👉👈What two stories have you written that are most similar? Why?
👈👉What two stories have you written that are most different? Why?
brainfreeze from a cherry slushy max/gp pretty please?
Btw the two you have done already are absolutely bloody amazing, I love the way you write
-bloop
hello! sorry this took so long and doesn't have the same vibes as the others at all, i hope you still enjoy it! and thank you so much you're too kind <3 prompts from here
The pagoda is already starting to get crowded when Max steps on the smooth wooden floor, music pouring from the speakers and golden late afternoon rays bathing everyone in warmth. Behind him the beach is still filled with sunbathing people and children screaming in the waves, echoed by the seagulls flying above.
He finds Stan at a table, two beers already dripping condensation on their coasters, chatting with Martin and two girls he's never seen before.
"Hey," he says, sliding into the free seat. "Sorry, Mel needed help with Jimmy."
"Oh!" one of the girls exclaims, lighting up, "your kids?"
Max feels himself blush and he elbows Stan who's already laughing. Before he can answer though, Martin cuts him off, smiling cheerfully.
"More or less," he tells her, very unhelpfully. Stan only laughs harder.
Max refuses to be embarrassed though, rolling his eyes and elbowing Stan again.
"Jimmy is my cat, Mel is the cat sitter. I don't have kids."
Whatever reaction Martin was hoping for, it clearly wasn't what he gets, as both the girls squeal and lean closer, asking to see pictures, complimenting how pretty Jimmy and Sassy are. It takes them ten whole minutes to move on from the topic of cats, and Max makes sure to smile smugly for the whole of it.
Not because he's particularly interested in flirting with the girls (he still doesn't know their names, it's probably very rude to ask at this point), but just because he enjoys the expressions on Martin and Stan's faces.
He probably shouldn't have gloated so soon though, because when his beer is almost over and he's starting to think about suggesting dinner, Stan pokes him in the side, lifting his chin to point towards the bar.
"Your hot bartender has arrived," he says, loud enough for the whole table to hear and therefore inevitably prompting everyone to turn around.
Max feels his ears get warm again as he splutters, ineffectually poking Stan back.
"He's not my bartender!" he argues, even as his eyes stray towards the man, hand flying to fix his hair before he can consciously think about stopping himself.
"Not denying he's hot," Martin points out smugly.
"Of course, I have eyes," Max protests, making Stan laugh. One of the girls is nodding though, so he feels vindicated enough.
Then he immediately makes it worse again by pushing his chair back and announcing, "I am going to get another drink."
Their laughter follows him to the bar.
The bartender, GP as it says on his nametag, is hot, and his glass had been empty, so there. Whatever.
All the seats circling the bar are full, more and more people showing up as the sky starts to slowly turn orange, but Max finds a free spot in a corner, leaning up against the corner and waiting patiently for GP to get to him. He's pretty sure his friends can't see him from where they're sitting, which is a bonus, and therefore there's nobody to judge him if he pretends to still be looking at the menu when the other bartender on shift looks his way.
The thing is, he's not a heathen, he is not going to try and make GP uncomfortable as he works by asking for his number or making any stupid advance he probably gets from everyone a million times a day. He's just going to get his drink, appreciate the way the warm light curl around his biceps, then go back to the table. Nothing more.
"Hello, what can I get you?" GP's voice is nice, calm and sure, matching his confident and comfortable attitude. Max is not going to think about how that would match in the bedroom. He's not a heathen.
"Not sure, any advice?"
GP's lips quirk up, a spark in his eyes.
"I thought after ten minutes of trying to memorize the menu you'd have made more progress than this," he jokes, and wow thanks, now Max wants to die, because GP clearly noticed him standing around just waiting for him. He's glad Stan and Martin can't see him, and even more glad Victoria isn't here, or he'd never hear the end of it.
He opens his mouth, trying to recover, but GP waves him off, leaning against the counter to avoid having to scream over the sudden increase of the music volume. He smells like a nice cologne and salt water, and Max's mouth should really not be watering right now.
"What do you like?" GP asks, still smiling.
"Anything," Max finds himself saying, brain obviously lost in the sudden closeness, "I'm open to suggestions."
GP stares at him for one second longer, eyebrows slightly quirked, then nods and turns around.
God, Max really needs to stop thinking about his dick. And how it's probably big and GP looks like he knows how to use it and...
Nope. He's not going to be a creepy guy during the poor man's shift, and he's really trying not to be the pathetically flirting one either, so he's going to get a grip. Hopefully soon, before GP comes back with his drink. Whatever that will be.
He pulls out his phone to distract himself, finding a thumbs up from Stan, followed by three laughing emojis and a heart eyes one, that he fully ignores. He replies to Mel's message, then sends Victoria a picture of the sea he had taken earlier.
When he looks back up, in front of him there's what looks like a very red slushy, with a candied cherry on top, and GP is looking at him, expectantly.
"What's this?" Max asks hesitantly. Is this a way for GP to tell him he's too young? Bringing him a children's drink so he doesn't have to tell him to fuck off and find someone his age? That would be even more embarrassing than this whole thing already is.
"Cherry vodka slushy, not on the normal menu. Sweet and refreshing, but with a bit of a punch."
Max blinks. That's...not what he was expecting.
He hesitantly grabs the straw, then, in a sudden bound of boldness, he locks eyes with GP and takes a big sip.
For a moment, the whole world is just the way GP's eyes darken, landing on his lips and following the movement of his throat as he swallows, the muscles on his bicep shifting as he leans a little closer over the counter.
Then Max winces, sudden pain shooting through his head. Okay, so the big sip might have been a mistake.
"Too strong?" GP asks, something like disappointment in his voice. And oh god, he must thinks that Max is some kind of idiot who can't even take a sip of syrup and vodka without making faces, even if he said he was down for anything.
"No, no it's...it's really good actually. Just..." luckily, Max is instead only an idiot who drank too fast. "Brain freeze," he admits, cheeks on fire.
GP stares for a second longer, then starts laughing.
Max is going to throw himself into the sea.
"I'm glad you like it," GP finally says, amusement still dancing on his face. "Do you need anything else?"
Max shakes his head, wondering how high are the chances of the floor opening right under his feet. Technically, sudden cave ins can happen right? He just needs a super localized one.
"Let me know if you change your mind," GP tells him, then turns around and goes back to his job. Because he's still working, and just doing his bartender thing. Not flirting with Max, who is a hopeless disaster. Right.
The drink suddenly tastes a little less sweet.
He considers taking it back to the table, but he doesn't want to third wheel (fifth wheel?) Martin and Stan, and he doesn't really feel like being asked about his horrendous flirting, so he stays leaning against the bar, distractedly sipping his too-strong-for-a-before-dinner drink, and stupidly staring at GP's hands moving as he works.
He doesn't think GP looks towards him one single time, but his glass is more than two thirds empty when a bowl of peanuts appear in front of him, accompanied by a wink.
"Shouldn't drink all that on an empty stomach," GP tells him. "Unless you're allergic, then please, don't eat them."
Despite his misery, Max snorts, toying with his straw and the cherry, now resting on the last layer of crushed ice.
"I'm not, thank you. I will go get dinner soon, anyway."
GP hums, looks to the side, then back at him. "We do offer some food items here too, you know? Sandwiches and salads. Unless you have plans?"
Whatever plans Max might have had they're gone now. He's sure Martin and Stan can find their way to dinner.
#3 Max Verstappen (NLD) Oracle Red Bull Racing (AUT) Red Bull RB22 / RBPT-Ford, during the Formula 1 Chinese Grand Prix, on the Shanghai circuit in Shanghai, from March 13 to 15, 2026 in China (CHN) Copyright /Ian Bundey/ MPS Agency.
sticky grapefruit essence between fingers + maxiel, please?
hii!!! this is very short but i hope you still like it! prompts from here
Daniel is sticky.
His skin, overwarm and sweaty, clinging to Max's; the grapefruit juice, dripping down his fingers from the messy slice he's holding; the sweet scented lube, smeared on his thighs. He's not complaining.
"Open," he orders gently, watching in awe as Max's jaw drops, red lips opening with a wet smack, tongue lolling out. His eyes are barely open, just a sliver of blue peeking out from his lashes, hazy and pleased.
Daniel places the piece of grapefruit on his tongue, indulging himself and pressing his fingertips further into his mouth, just to feel Max's chest jump with a stuttered breath.
"Good boy," he tells him, using the same spit slick fingers to push his jaw closed again, tracking the seconds between the fruit disappearing and the movement of Max's cheeks as he starts chewing, every connection between his brain and his body delayed and slowed.
Max's eyelashes flutter at the word, dropping fully closed for a moment, blue disappearing as he clenches around Daniel's cock, half hard inside him. The grip of Daniel's free hand on his waist grows tighter in response, and he barely holds back a moan, trying to focus on grabbing another piece of fruit.
This is an exercise in restraint for them both.
They don't do this often, lack of time and impatience working together so that they more often fuck hard and fast, panting breaths and wandering hands, but there's no rush today. Max is sweet and pliant in his lap, thighs spread wide over Daniel's lap, slightly swaying as he works to keep his head upright, completely lost in the velvet fog blanketing him, and Daniel can't think of any other place he'd rather be.
He watches Max's throat work as he swallows, a quiet sound of satisfaction following the motion.
"Open," he orders again.
There are only three pieces left on the plate, and before taking the next one, Daniel brings his fingers up to his own mouth, licking sticky juice and saliva off them, and looks at Max looking at him.
He says "open" and his fingers are still empty, but Max still doesn't hesitate.
esi <3 for the summer scenery prompts: gp/max and cicada’s chirping after nightfall?
hi <3 thank you for the prompt! from here
Max finds GP sitting in one of the lounge chairs near the pool, half a glass of wine held loosely between his fingers, eyes lost somewhere on the house lights starting to dot the hills. The evening is finally letting go of the scorching heat of the day, a breeze making the leaves on the big oak tree whisper, cicadas chirping in an invisible choir.
"Mom says hi," he says, letting himself fall to the ground on the towel left there earlier instead than in the other lounge chair, smiling in the dying light when GP's fingers automatically fall on his head, tangling in his hair. He must have been holding the glass on this side just a moment ago, because his digits trail a line of cool dampness on his scalp.
GP hums, but doesn't reply, doesn't look away from horizon, letting the cicadas take up their space in the silence, and Max leans further into his side, slouching to rest his cheek on his thigh. His skin is still warm, sunkissed, and it smells faintly of chlorine, from the dip they had taken just before dinner.
Despite what many might think, silence between them isn't unusual. After you spend years together, and talking to each other is literally part of your job, you learn to enjoy the quiet comfort of breathing together, and Max lets time go for a long moment, the Italian night blooming before them, twilight fingertips stretching the shadows in the spots left dark by the shimmering pool lights.
Then the wine glass makes a soft clicking sound when GP places it down on the ground on the other side of the chair, muscles shifting under Max's cheek as he leans over, and it's enough to break the momentary spell.
"Everything okay?" Max asks, turning his head so he can look up at GP, trying to gauge his expression in the yellow-green glow of the pool.
Finally, GP looks at him too, a small smile carving shadows on his cheeks. "Yes, all good. Just thinking."
Max distractedly rubs his cheek against GP's thigh, enjoying the feeling of the fine hair there on his skin, before he stops, remembering he hasn't shaved in a few days. Not that GP has ever complained about beard burn before, but his skin has been more sensitive with all the time they've been spending in the sun, and he doesn't want to needlessly irritate it.
"Share?"
His murmured question almost gets lost in the sudden crescendo of the cicadas' song, a bird's call mixing in the shrill chirps, but GP still hears him, always hears him.
"You said you don't want to talk about work until we're back home," he says instead of answering, fingertips pinching Max's earlobe gently, then tracing down his neck, making him shiver.
It's true, Max doesn't want to think about racing, at least while they're here. He's still doing it, of course, he doesn't think he's ever gone a day in his whole life without thinking about it, but he asked to leave work talks at home, to try and be just them, away from the fuel and spotlight, for a week. Still, that doesn't mean he doesn't always want to know what's in GP's head.
"Tell me anyway," he replies, tilting his cheek into GP's touch with insistence, until his hand comes to cradle his jaw, thumb brushing against his lips, still sweet from the peach they had shared at the table.
"I was thinking about next year," GP admits, "and the one after that."
Yeah, Max has changed his mind, he doesn't want to talk about it. Not because he doesn't support GP, or because he wants to deny what the future will be, but simply because the thoughts of GP in the wrong orange don't belong on the patio of an Italian villa.
Instead, he pushes to his knees, dislodging GP's hand, then crawls into his lap, lounge chair creaking under their combined weight. It's a tight fit, but GP's hands still find the dip of his waist, the difference in temperature between their skin not so stark now, wine glass forgotten to drip condensation on the ground.
"Think about now," Max tells him, then crashes their lips together, gentling his initial insistence with infinite fondness, matched and amplified in corresponding echos by GP's own.
Around them, the cicadas sing their farewell to the last of the dying light, anchoring them in the present.
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