Kaitlyn

Still alive but I'm barely breathing

[manxcat365]

@mollymarymarie

I really loved your story! :D

[landbeorht]

Warm sunlight streams in through old, rippled window panes. Dappled light wakes her from a dream. Her stretches are tangled in soft linen.

A tree branch caught in the wind scrapes against the window. He wakes and rolls to find her reading. She wears her morning elegance, aglow in the gold of summer.

{Soft summer mornings - Draco & Hermione}

[ivmaruva]

“Measure Of A Man” 🌿 by Inadaze22

I just finished my 3rd reread and I drew this while I listened to it. Lovely fic, I learned so many things, and each time I reread it I notice more little details and learn new things. 10/10 recommend.

[onebedtorulethemall]

A Certain Slant of Light

Dramione gothic horror, now complete on AO3! ❤️‍🔥

For fans of horror, gothic classics, and atmosphere you'd need a knife to cut, my latest Dramione fic is now complete.

20 chapters, rated E for violence, gore, and spooky eroticism. (plus, it comes with a happy ending!)

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[omniluci-estumbra]

Ship so good it belongs in a museum 🖼️

I think Draco gets mopey when Hermione is at work and commissions extravagant art pieces of her to cope (and sometimes puts himself in them too cause he’s self centered)

The statue is charmed so that if anyone else walks past it they just hear mumbling and murmuring but if Draco or Hermione walk by they can hear each other reciting reasons why they love each other — Draco walks by the statue a lot

[landbeorht]

I loved this quote from 'Détraquée' by Hystaracal:

"He could take her to places she hadn't been, and she could show him landscapes he hadn't considered, and together they could map out the whole vast world."

[landbeorht]

Doodling today — Draco and Hermione early in the morning

[sodamnradd]

Ok here's a prompt, but it's totally OK if it doesn't inspire you, but maybe it will? 🥰

"How can I convince you not to?"

--

These words are significant for me personally (I won't bore you with the details) and by putting them out there to see what someone could do with them creatively gives me a weird sense of peace. But again, I have no expectations and totally OK if you don't do anything with it.💜💜💜

hi anon! i know you sent this prompt ages ago. i was finally in the mood to write again. not sure you'll even seen this, but here we go:

A sharp grip sank into Hermione’s arm, stopping her short. “Don’t do it, Granger,” heaved Pansy. She must have chased Hermione all the way to the fireplace. In stilettos. “Don’t leave.”

Hermione pried herself from Pansy’s stabby claws. “He made his choice.”

“Yeah. You.”

“We’re at his engagement party.” Her voice cracked.

“You think he agreed to this obnoxious farce?” Pansy arched an ebony brow. “Narcissa blindsided us all.”

A few minutes ago, Hermione had entered the Malfoy’s Rose Garden to find a pedestalled portrait of Draco and Astoria at the entrance, posing like a pure-blood poster-couple. She’d been so shocked and hurt that she’d bolted.

“This was never going to work,” she told Pansy sadly.

Whether Draco knew it or not, this was Narcissa issuing a her or us ultimatum. Draco loved his family, and a three-month fling with Hermione didn’t merit sacrificing them. She had lost her parents young and wouldn’t dream of hurting him in that way. Even if it broke her heart.

Pansy’s lips pressed together. “Don’t you see how happy you make him?”

“We’re still in the honeymoon phase,” she half-told herself. “He can’t go a lifetime without his family.”

“You’re too rational for your own good. Be romantic for five seconds and open your bloody eyes!” Pansy snapped. “He won’t lose his family. He has me and Theo and Blaise and he’ll have you, Granger.”

“You can’t possibly believe that I mean more to him than his mother and father.”

“Do you honestly think I’d succumb to this gods-awful conversation if I didn’t? I don’t even like you.”

“Well, this is the perfect opportunity to get rid of me.”

“But I don’t have to like you,” Pansy proceeded. “I just have to like you for him. And I do. You make him less serious. More like the Draco I used to know in school. Always having a laugh, playful again, a little mischievous.”

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears.

As Pansy listed all the ways Hermione had changed Draco, she considered all the ways Draco had changed her. Her nerves had virtually evaporated when public speaking, and she suspected it had everything to do with the way Draco vocally, physically, openly admired her. He made her feel beautiful and seen, and it made all the difference. Resulting in a fiercer version of herself. A Hermione 2.0, radiating with confidence.

But making Draco choose between her and his parents was graver than Pansy made it out to be. It was life changing. Lifestyle changing. There was no guarantee he could continue to depend on his family vaults. No guarantee he would even have a home after tonight if he chose Hermione. Eventually, he would realise she wasn’t worth it. And that would hurt more.

“He’s lucky to have you, Pansy. But I’m going home.”

“How can I convince you not to?”

Hermione gasped at the sound of his voice, whirling around to find Draco standing behind her. For how long? Surely not the entire conversation?

Her stomach fluttered when their eyes met. It was unfair how beautiful he looked, half lit by the corridor sconce, silky hair drawn back and expression stormy with resolve. It took everything not to cross the room and kiss him. She was fiercely jealous of Astoria Greengrass and needed to confirm that she was still his first choice. That Draco would choose Hermione purely out of his own selfish desire.

The click of heels drew Hermione’s attention back to Pansy, who gave her a meaningful look before disappearing around the corner.

Draco said, “Please, Hermione. I had no idea—”

“I know.”

His face flashed with relief. “Please don’t leave. Or better, let me come with you. Just promise we’re still us.”

She dabbed her cheek hastily. “It might be devastating now, but you’ll understand why this can’t work. You’ll lose everything, Draco.”

He stepped forward, clutching her arms and looking at her with blazing eyes. “This,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers and lowering his voice to a whisper, “is everything.”

There was fight in the way he kissed her—one arm tight around her waist, the other planted like tree roots in her curls. It was more than lust as their lips touched, more than sexual attraction as his tongue slipped between her teeth and coaxed—it was a plea.

In the back of Hermione’s mind, Pansy’s voice sniped, You’re too rational for your own good. And she considered whether the icy bitch with a surprising heart was onto something. Love wasn’t rational. It couldn't be alphabetized or stored in a filing cabinet. It was hardly containable. Love was like magic.

Hermione sank her face into Draco’s chest, twisting her arms around his waist and inhaling the scent she recognised like her own skin.

The tension in Draco’s body melted and he sighed softly.

“Let’s go home,” she said, mentally rearranging shelves and casting extendable charms to make room for him in her one-bedroom flat.

Draco’s mouth brushed her ear, as if reading her mind, “I get the larger wardrobe, right?”

And Hermione delivered the final blow by replying, “There’s only one wardrobe, love.”

-

Pansy watched, relieved, as a cloud of Floo powder ferried her stupidly happy best mate away.

(872 words... am i back in my tumblr prompt era? maybe. submit a ficlet/drabble prompt here.)

[pacific-rimbaud]

i'm curious how do you feel about dramione community now?

i'm a new writer, long time reader and can't help but feel like the fandom and the ship changed so much and i wonder if i even have a place in it anymore.

there's so much demand for the writers from the readers (constant update demands, no willingness to engage with wips) and at the same time i've been in a couple of dramione writer communities where other writers are openly pressuring each other to either start tiktok or finish the fic before posting it (the new dramione writers society discord server specifically).

particularly upset when i see people advising each other to commission art to promote their fic for writing.

it seems like that space for writers to be just writers becomes smaller and smaller and readers are not interested in the fandom but rather the next hot fic that's getting traction.

and all that combined with the overall hatred toward dramione as a ship outside of dramione.

I've genuinely stopped writing because of this. and i'm sad that i lost that one hobby that made me feel good, as it now seems like a popularity contest more than just fandom fun.

you seem like you're able to balance your love for writing with the changed landscape of the fandom. at least from the outside posts :D

DHr grew exponentially in the short time I spent in the ship, and that growth will only accelerate as big name fandom writers continue to enter traditional publishing with seven-figure book and film deals.

Life is change. Change is death. It's okay to grieve what's gone and won't come back.

And I want to add: keep writing. No matter what. But that would be hypocritical. I haven't written in a year, and remain deeply uncertain about whether or not I'll take it up again. It's a real puzzle.

The relevant questions seem to be: why do I want to write? And: what spaces feel nurturing to me as a writer?

The first one's easy. I write because I like the films I see in my head. I like the way language sounds. I like to experience the past, and to be swept away by intense emotions. It's like having a Holodeck in my head. And sometimes, when everything clicks, I get to describe my little bespoke scenarios in words that make a nice sound when they rub up against one another.

I'm waiting on a good answer to the second question. All I know is that art, criticism and commerce have always been an incredibly awkward ménage à trois. No shade to folks seeking to work the fandom algorithm and secure the bag (posting already completed work on a schedule, writing popular tropes and characterizations, and using original art in social media marketing are all great ways to do that). Whether money changes hands or merely attention (which can be converted into money), that's commerce having its turn at the wheel.

I'm suspicious that my creative brain is commerce-repulsed. Maybe yours is, too. So it goes.

I'm certain that we shouldn't let that keep us off the Holodeck.

So. Make a deal with me. I promise to run some freaky little scenarios in the simulator this summer if you'll do the same. Then let's meet in the limestone cave and paint our blorbos by candlelight. Let's tell them around the campfire. Come draw them with me in the sand.

[sodamnradd]

“I dare you to kiss Hermione,” said Ginny, grinning conspiratorially in her friend’s direction.

Hermione turned her attention to Malfoy, her stomach fluttering in anxious anticipation. But then she noticed the obvious discomfort on his face and her excitement fizzled. Weeks of studying together, late-night lab sessions—their prize-winning Potions project!—and he couldn’t even stomach the thought of one measly little kiss?

The common room fell silent when Malfoy didn’t budge. A dozen seventh and eighth-years sat around an empty Firewhisky bottle, its neck pointed in Malfoy’s direction like an accusation.

She wished the ground would swallow her whole.

Seconds later, Theo re-entered the room, donning a Slytherin jumper and a lumpy knit scarf, cheeks red after flying a lap around the castle starkers to fulfill his dare.

He looked around, confused. “What’s up?”

Hermione felt a sharp stab of betrayal seeing Theo in the scarf she’d knit Malfoy for Christmas. It wasn’t the cashmere or spider silk fabric he was used to, but Malfoy had seemed genuinely touched by the gesture, immediately replacing his Slytherin scarf with the one Hermione had made for him. In turn, Malfoy had tied his Slytherin scarf around her neck, stepping back to admire her with an affectionate look. The scarf had smelled like him, so naturally Hermione had kept it on all day. Even inside.

And now here was her gift, draped haphazardly around Theo’s neck like he’d grabbed the first thing he’d found on the floor to warm himself up. Message received.

Glaring daggers in Malfoy’s direction, Ginny replied coldly, “Nothing. Malfoy just thinks he’s too good to kiss Hermione on a dare.”

“Oh?” Theo eyed his best mate curiously.

Malfoy opened his mouth to reply, but then his gaze flicked down to Theo’s neck and whatever he’d wanted to say died on his lips as his eyes narrowed.

“I’ll kiss her.” Theo walked up to Hermione and cupped her cheeks. His hands were like slabs of ice, and she shivered, but then his lips, cold and hard, met hers and approximately five seconds later it was over and Hermione felt like crying.

The room seemed to heave a sigh of relief as Theo settled at the foot of Hermione’s armchair and spun the bottle again.

Hermione jumped off her seat and bolted for the dorms, not slowing even as footsteps followed her up the stairs.

“Granger, wait!”

“I just want to be alone right now,” she cried, nearly at her bedroom door.

A hand grabbed her arm.

She glanced down at his pale knuckles and the expanse of blond hair that disappeared beneath a bunched-up sleeve. She recalled the way he'd trembled when she’d traced the protruding veins of his forearm last week, waiting for their potion to boil. His gaze following her touch intricately.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked quickly.

She yanked her arm back, refusing to meet his eyes. “I’m humiliated. You made it seem like I was diseased!”

He made a painstaking groan. “I just didn’t want to kiss you like that. In front of everyone.”

“Right. Heavens forbid they catch you snogging a Mudblood.”

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s not that. Not at all.”

“What is it then?” She looked up, catching the familiar warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. Even mid-argument they held that affectionate sparkle. Seeing her.

He stepped back, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It’s just that—when I kiss you, I want you to know it’s because I’ve thought of nothing else for weeks.”

Her mind snagged on how he’d said ‘when’ and not ‘if’.

Smiling nervously, he touched her hand, stroking his thumb over the swell of her palm. Because of course, on top of his boyish good looks, astute ambition, and effortless sense of humour, the boy had to be sentimental, too. Gods.

He tugged her forward until their legs touched, eyes never leaving her face.

Heart hammering against her ribcage, Hermione lifted her head as Draco descended.

-

The next morning, he was waiting for her at the foot of the dormitory stairs. His scarf twisted delicately around his neck and tucked into his coat. When she reached the last step, he captured her chin between his fingers and kissed her with breathtaking confidence.

A stunned silence filled the common room as everyone watched Hermione and Draco leave together, their hands firmly intertwined.

(736 words, loosely inspired by a scene from 'Every Summer After' by Carley Fortune)

p.s. hi i missed writing dramione ficlets so here we are.

[elucipher-deactivated20151112]

top five favorite poems!

i tried for five there was an honest effort to choose only five and it lasted about eight seconds

seamus heaney, “north” (x)

marina tsvetaeva, “poems for moscow” (x)

w.h. auden, “musee des beaux arts” (x)

derek walcott, “midsummer, tobago” (x)

lewis carroll, “the walrus and the carpenter” (x)

james wright, “a blessing” (x)

alexander pushkin, “the prophet” (x)

dante alighieri, inferno

nadine sabra meyer, “invocation: a fragment” (x)

william blake, “jerusalem: the emanation of great albion” (x)

sappho, “fragment 94”

paul celan, “death-fugue” (x)

philip larkin, “bridge for the living” (x)

kim addonizio, “for you” (x)

arthur rimbaud, “barbarian” (x)

w.b. yeats, “the second coming” (x)

kay ryan, “stardust” (x)

wilfred owen, “dulce et decorum est”

geoffrey hill, “tenebrae” (x)

h.d., eideolon (book iii section vii (x))

pablo neruda, “sonnet xxxiv” (x)

emily dickinson, “i dwell in possibility” (x)

jacob shores-argeüllo, “paradise”

anon, sir gawain and the green knight

kathleen sheeder bonanno, “death barged in” (x)

john donne, “holy sonnet xiv” (x)

elizabeth bishop, “at the fish-houses” (x)

rainer maria rilke, “the boy” (x) and “lament” (x)

mahmoud darwish, “your night is of lilac” (x)

gregory orr, “trauma (storm)” (x)

frank o’hara, “having a coke with you” (x)

john milton, paradise lost (books v & ix)

anne carson, “the autobiography of red”

naomi shihab nye, “burning the old year” (x)

christopher marlowe, hero and leander

sylvia plath, “three women: a poem for three voices” (x)

anna akhmatova, “voronezh” (x)

ted hughes, “bride and groom lie hidden for three days” (x)

anon, beowulf

dylan thomas, “fern hill” (x)

margaret atwood, “sumacs” (x)

kiki petosino, “genuflect”

t.j. jarrett, “how to speak to the dead” (x)

louise glück, “landscape” (x)

jorge luis borges, “poem of the gifts” (x)

e.e. cummings, “i will wade out” (x)

sean ó coileáin, “the ruins of timoleague abbey” (x)

yusef komunyakaa, “jasmine” (x)

[landbeorht]

Complete! 15 chapters, 88k words. An illustrated DHr fairytale.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[aikaterine22]

One of my favorites I've read this year <3

[femservice]

Here is the secret to fandom:

Give zero fucks about what anyone else is doing.

Seriously.  I mean it.  Because inevitably you will love something that no one else loves.  Or you will love something that everyone loves and people will shit all over it because it’s “so trite and unimaginative and done.” Or you will love something that no one else has ever heard of.  Or you will love something dark and edgy and or obscure and people will roll their eyes and say, “What, do you want people to think you’re dark and edgy and obscure?”

Alternatively, you will not love the thing that everyone else loves, and you will wonder what precisely is wrong with you that the sight of that thing is aggravating the shit out of you now when the whole world sings its praises as one.

People will irritate you.  They’ll irritate you with headcanons that make no sense and misinterpretations of canon.  They will make the same jokes 500 times.  They will overwhelm your corner of fandom with something you either are tired of hearing about or don’t care about.  They will post art that isn’t theirs.  You will meet people who think you are the greatest person ever and bombard you with messages  only to wander off when they find someone new or shinier; you will meet people whom you admire and who do not really seem to notice you exist. 

So give zero fucks about it.  Seriously.  Like what you like, blacklist what you need to blacklist, and ignore everything else.  Be friends, play nice, enjoy it.  And in the meantime, just do you.  Like what you like, love what you love, and to hell with all the rest of it. 

[karinagiada]

Everything is more complete with wisterias ✨

[landbeorht]

Draco takes a dip in an ice covered lake with the raven gliding above — for chapter 9 of my fic They Shall Not Be Named

Whew! Ok trying to make the water look how I liked in black and white was…tricky.

[elcieford]

30 Candles - now complete!

💕🎂✨💋

The 7th and final chapter of 30 Candles has been posted, and my first multi-chapter fic is now complete!!! HUGE THANKS to everyone reading!! Your support, kudos, comments, and cheers along the way have meant the world to me. THANK YOU!!!

If you haven't read it yet, 30 Candles is a Dramione adaptation of the 80s movie Sixteen Candles. Plenty of pining, fluff, and a HEA.

special hugs to a few tumblrs I know > @imtakenbytheview @autumnweeen @hawkeyebinding

[greenerteacups-deactivated20260]

Hello! I love Lionheart (literally started four days ago and have read continuously since and am, in a word, Obsessed).

One thing I've noticed that is a common theme among Dramoine fics is how Draco gets away with his pureblood ideology and essentially has no consequences (besides Hermoine's anger/disgust) until his eventual redemption arc through their romance. However, I've noticed that your fic is unique in the way that Draco is constantly held accountable, especially backlash from Ron (btw, love the way you characterized Ron, my boy deserves some justice) and Harry, but especially through Hermoine, who fights back in any way she knows how. So my question is: what are your thoughts on this common trope within the Dramoine fandom? Do you think that Draco's eventual love for Hermoine negates the harm that he's done in the past?

I absolutely believe that love can be redemptive, but that doesn't mean you redeem yourself by loving. It's not about how you feel, it's about what you do. You can love someone a whole lot, but if you don't treat them well, and make a real effort to be good to them, well — I mean, I'm not saying it doesn't "matter," because everything always matters, but I wouldn't say that love has really changed you. Which is to say, I don't know that it's really love at all.

Draco can't be made better by the fact of loving Hermione, but he can make himself better because of it. Reasoning past, getting over, and making amends for his past wrongdoing should — ideally — be part of that development. Now, this is assuming that you want to do a real, honest-to-God, "I'm going to drag this horrible little wet blorbo kicking and screaming into Heroism" redemption arc. Maybe you don't! Maybe you want to write a story about two fucked-up people who fuck each other up more. Maybe you want to write about a bad man who isn't held accountable, and the kind of person that produces. Draco Malfoy can be many people, depending on where you take him, and many of them are interesting without being particularly nice or good. And you can still do great fiction about that! Romances with and between horrible characters can be totally delicious. I'm a big fan of 'em. But the kind of love I personally prize the most — the kind that makes us, if anything can earn this word, really, truly holy — is a love that's so selfless you are willing to be changed by it, and to change for it, and to constantly reforge yourself in order to do justice to the object of your love. It's veneration. It's finding in each other a reason for goodness. That's what I think real humans should look for, and so I guess I can't help trying to write about it when it comes to fake humans.

So when we talk about love as the catalyst for a redemption arc, I think what we mean is: love can awaken you to the personhood of others and ignite latent capacities for empathy that might not have existed otherwise. It opens you up to new ways of seeing, of being — James Baldwin in The Price of the Ticket has a brilliant quotation that captures it perfectly:

"If your lover lives in Hong Kong and cannot get to Chicago, it will be necessary for you to go to Hong Kong. Perhaps you will spend your life there, and never see Chicago again. And you will, I assure you, as long as space and time divide you from anyone you love, discover a great deal about shipping routes, airlines, earth quake, famine, disease, and war. And you will always know what time it is in Hong Kong, for you love someone who lives there. And love will simply have no choice but to go into battle with space and time and, furthermore, to win."

[aikaterine22]

Well, this is simply profound ❤️