#mayya writes

[mayyari]

my partner and i are gearing up for another move this summer and while we were cuddling last night he looks up at me and goes, "i can't wait to listen to your heartbeat in our new bedroom." he then proceeded to spend the next five min asking why i was smiling like that.

[mayyari]

i'm spelunking in the ao3 tags again: what do you mean there are no other tamino fics that involve blood drinking/bloodplay??!

[mayyari]

can a monsterfucking longfic be too smutty or is that the devil speaking?

[mayyari]

turns out my dacryphilia, cum eating, blood drinking, spit kink longfic is the sweetest love story i've ever written

[mayyari]

can't remember the last time i tried to write something sexy for rafmc without it turning into a comedy. (spoilers for the next chapter of h&p)

[mayyari]

100K+ words later and the best smut i've ever written is still chapter 3 of figure study, i know this.

[mayyari]

i have been vibrating these past couple days waiting to post this last chapter. even without counting the other fics in the honeydew series, h&p is the longest fic i've finished in years. i'm in a tizzy, i'm shellshocked, i hope y'all like it. in my opinion, it's the best finish to a fic i've written so far. 💋

[mayyari]

🤍: is there a scene that you've written that you really like but have not been able to use in a story?

Alternatively: 🥇

Wait I love this question. My answer might be a bit of a cheat, though, because I do have plans to build it into a proper story. This is just a sneak peek into another Professor Rafayel fic I've had brewing. Just more evidence that RafMC are deeply stupid together.

I also have the beginnings of an LSG ebb day scene that will probably stay scrapped 😶

Btw, if you have a specific fic in mind for 🥇, lmk. I'll happily answer that too.

The forums said you’d find what you’re looking for in French Literature. Untranslated works. Eastern wing. Third floor. Filed under Poetry; avoid the copies under Novels and Short Stories. There should be two options, but the one you want has a faint green stain on the spine. As you slide the book off the shelf, Rafayel blinks into being like a vigilant chaperone at your shoulder. “What’s this, cutie?” You flinch. “Catching up on your Proust?” You flash a nervous smile, holding the copy up for display as your lie buffers. Attempting to sound as nonchalant as possible, you say, “It’s supposed to be good.” Rafayel’s eyes narrow before his expression relaxes into one of patent amusement. “I didn’t know you spoke French.” He pauses, then with a tilt of the head, asks, “Les plaisirs et les jours?” “Um.” You panic. “Oui.”