not a frequent user of social media. obsessively addicted to about four fandoms. ships rare or unfavoured pairings. oh, and suffers horribly from Writer's Disease. not hereditary, and completely incurable.
come chat with me about writing, dogs, cats, fandoms, baking, or...[static crackles]. I'm friendly and sarcastic 😉
(Also! I take fic requests...there's a link for my guidelines post in my intro)
okay, first of all, heya, and i'm "thedogbard" or "N". I'm socially awkward irl, someone who pretends to be an introvert to disguise my loneliness, and someone who is really good at random living-life shit and not so good at anything specific (like maths) (ugh).
i originally made a tumblr account to promote my fanfic magnum opus. so here it is:
But firstly I'd like to specify that I do NOT support JKR. I have owned the books for years, and before I got tumblr, in Sep 2025, I didn't actually know what she was doing. Almost all of the fanfic I've written was before that. Writing fanfic does not give the franchise profit, but it might give the author or reader a bit of happiness. Anyway, I'm trying not to write anything else for the HP/FB fandoms now, and I'm steering well clear of the HP show. I don't judge you if you're an HP fan as long as you don't support JKR, so please extend me the same courtesy.
December 1993. Newt Scamander appears in Hogwarts, clutching a battered suitcase, claiming to have just been duelling Grindelwald alongside Dumbledore - who’s now aged by sixty years.
Lord Voldemort is on the rise. Dementors surround the school. A Muggleborn Slytherin witch is fighting to find a place in the Wizarding World.
And, well, Newt’s just sort of there.
Fully completed: a Newt Scamander x original female character story, spanning the events of the HP books. Posted weekly on ao3, quotev, fanfic.net, and wattpad.
I'm an incurable writer. Original stuff, fanfics, all kinds of sh*t. I also love reading, dogs, animals in general, baking, walking, and laughing at the random stuff my brain comes up with. I also have controversial ships. Live and let live, please.
Fandoms I'm in or love: Skulduggery Pleasant, Harry Potter/Fantastic Beasts, Lockwood & Co, Dr Strange (movies), Sherlock BBC (also ACD Sherlock, Mary Russell series, and Elementary), Day of the Jackal, The Aeronauts, Little Women...and possibly more? I've read all the Riordan books...
Individual books I love (and their fandoms): Jane Eyre, Tenant of Wildfell Hall, Villette, Shirley, (or anything by the Brontes), Emily's Ghost, The Blue Castle, Knights of the Borrowed Dark trilogy, The Lost World and The Poison Belt, I Capture The Castle, Little Women, and many more I can't think of right now. Little-kid-me demands that I also add A Little Princess and Coral Island to this list...
Music I love: Roxette, Taylor Swift, Adele, Emeli Sande, Enya, Dua Lipa, and some other select songs, like Money Run Low by The Score.
Songs I can't stop listening to that might well be a part of my DNA by now: Haunted, Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince, Listen To Your Heart, Anywhere Is, Getaway Car (my no.1 spotify wrapped this year, and i'm not ashamed), I Knew You Were Trouble, The Look, This Love, Wonderland, There's Nothing Holding Me Back, Blow Your Mind, The Wind and a bunch more. If you're a Swiftie, DM me your favourites. Let's agree and argue and have fun!
I am so emotionally mature for my age that I've been told I have the soul of a pensioner. It was a compliment and I'm taking it as such.
In one country I am tall, decent-looking, and socially funny. In another I'm average-heighted, average-looking, and averagely-funny. Which is weird for my esteem and opinion of myself. Whatever.
I'm not a very ambitious person. My great dream in life is to be an author. I'm also funny, weirdly knowledgeable about niche things, and addicted to chocolate. (It's becoming a problem).
Send me asks or interact! I'll send asks or interact in return - or random asks whenever I'm bored. I love meeting new people. Whoever, whatever you are, just so long as you're not a...Think of all the worst kinds of people. If you're not one of 'em, then hang out with me.
@the-archivist-system is my beloved adopted sibling and one of my best friends 🐾 They're the only one who gets to call me Logios, because of this post!!✨️
Thank you to @dramatic1nlyf for this amazing moodboard!!!!
(right at the bottom, in uncertain small print...): if you want you can request a fic. Here's my "guideline" post.
Oh and I'm adding these posts here so I can never lose them because OHMYGOSH
AFJAFSGHHDAF THANK YOU @skeletal-spire-man-aka-overfit this literally made my YEAR
okay wait - @catastrophiccblues I'm also saving this here because it's too good to ever lose ✨️
And lastly, here are song lyrics from songs that have stuck to me like glue, arranged to tell a vaguely coherent story.
Sometimes you wonder if this fight is worthwhile
You’ve got the words to change a nation but you’re biting your tongue
Something keeps me holding on to nothing
Who can say where the road goes, where the day flows?
And you know it’s never simple, never easy
Wasn’t it beautiful, running wild till you fell asleep?
I’m only one, but not alone, my finest day is yet unknown
You go there, you're gone forever, I go there, I'll lose my way
God rest my soul, I miss who I used to be
I attend Christmas parties from outside
It’s all fun and games til somebody loses their mind
There’s no comfort in the truth, pain is all that you’ll find
I held that grudge till it tore me apart
It’s the first time, the last time, we ever met
It's no surprise I turned you in, 'cause us traitors never win
You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes
And now they’ve broken you like they’ve broken me, but a shattered glass is a lot more sharp
And if I’m on fire, you’ll be made of ashes too
I pass it and lose track of what I’m saying, cause that’s where I was when I lost it all
Always learning everything the hard way
Some say illusions are her game
Don’t you worry folks, we took out all her teeth
And nobody comes to save you now, but you got something they don't
When the violence causes silence, we must be mistaken
I remember all of the things that I thought I wanted to be
When you’re young, you just run, but you come back to what you need
So, baby, can we dance, oh, through an avalanche?
You don’t need to save me, but would you run away with me?
Cause for a moment a band of thieves in ripped up jeans got to rule the world
"Don't you see the starlight, starlight? Don't you dream impossible things?"
Climbed right back up the cliff, long story short I survived
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the alt text here is a gift but some devices don't display it very easily so i'm copying it for those who may not have seen it:
Yours truly, his head deeply buried in the ferns, his ass in the air, his knees soaking in water, trying to catch a species related to Blommersia sarotra. Sarotra is a Malagasy word meaning 'difficult'. These frogs call gleefully from mere centimetres away from you, but for over an hour, three of us sought and failed to find a single individual. It's not always like this, but this is also not unusual. It is not glamorous. It is often muddy and wet. The club of individuals with special skill/experience in catching Madagascar's smallest frogs has three members, and I am privileged to be among them. But even I often fail.
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The specific comedy of being a writer at a party. someone asks what you do. you say you write. they say "oh what kind of thing." you try to explain. their face does something. you can see them calculating how long they have to stand here. you start using shorter words. they say "oh cool like a blog?" and you say "sort of yeah" even though it is nothing like a blog. you have surrendered. you take a sip of your drink. you spend the rest of the night thinking about a character who goes to parties and hates them. you drive home and write for two hours. the party was actually great.
and I totally didn't make my whole entire online mutual group scramble for clues for hours while cursing me and manically laugh at their misfortune about 24 hours ago and would totally would not do that again.
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I'm listening to Risk and it's taking me back to being curled up on a sofa in a house in Wales, under the nicest softest blanket in the world, having entire days where I could just write fics and eat some nice food and scroll tumblr and not feel guilty about it✨️
And I start with ruining it all by saying that I don't like loud car noises. Well, I guess I'll have to get past it.
Their eyes met—Valancy was suddenly conscious of a delicious weakness. Was one of her heart attacks coming on?—But this was a new symptom.
Proceed immediately by
Tbh, from the description, the guy could do with a wife.
So, we have intense eyes and dimples. I know who I'm thinking about.
“I’m going over to the Port,” Barney was saying. “Can I acquire merit by getting or doing anything there for you or Cissy?”
So not only is he being helpful, he also has a way with words. Maud, you really outdid yourself with this love interest.
When her knights came riding to the Blue Castle, Valancy had sent them on many a quest, but she had never asked any of them to get her salt codfish.
This is so funny bc imagine a knight riding on his horse and bowing to you, my sword is yours, my lady, and then you ask him to bring you salt codfish. But that is just the point. In the realm of Blue Castle, one can dream of brave knights slaying dragons. In reality, one needs to eat.
Speaking of which, I wish LMM threw a line or two in about food. (Aside from this salt codfish, I mean.) We know she didn't like breakfasts at the ugly house on Elm Street--what does she have for breakfast at Roaring Abel's? What does she cook? She liked Aunt Alberta's meal at the dinner party, which she thought needed more cayenne pepper, IIRC--does she use cayenne pepper now? I just think it would have enriched the picture of the good life she is living now.
“Miss Stirling, you’re a brick! You’re a whole cartload of bricks. To come here and look after Cissy—under the circumstances.”
I like that he doesn't hold back in his praise. He thinks Valancy is a brick and is not afraid to say it. Little does he know that she has left fear behind. But Roaring Abel is an angel compared to her family.
“I often feel like damning things myself.”
I wish Cousin Stickles heard this. She'd need an ambulance.
Once he brought Valancy a box of candy—the first box of candy she had ever been given.
Did he now, hmmm, yumyumyum, but also--she has never been given candy? Could Mrs Frederick get any worse?
It does seem like Barney lives his life as if he was hiding something, or perhaps running away from something. Not in a criminal justice sense, though.
I'd like to listen to his adventures. And the philosophical debates with Abel. I'd like to join them.
The barrens lay before her in a white moon splendour, where dozens of little rabbits frisked. Barney, when he liked, could sit down on the edge of the barrens and lure those rabbits right to him by some mysterious sorcery he possessed. Valancy had once seen a squirrel leap from a scrub pine to his shoulder and sit there chattering to him. It reminded her of John Foster.
Is he the ancestor of David Attenborough? (Who just turned 100, same as the book!).
Piffle is such a funny word.
Now, where is my squad of outcasts chilling together on a cosy evening?
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