VERSE 1:
I think if I was hogwarts then you’d be gryffindor.
And if I was Amy Pond then you’d be the Doctor.
We’d travel through the TARDIS throughout all of time and space;
I’d be your companion and you’d be my saving grace.
PRE-CHORUS:
I’d be your hermione if you would be my Ron,
And I would be your Sherlock if you would be my John.
CHORUS:
I’d love you when you’re happy and I’d love you when you’re sad,
I’d love you even when Malfoy threatens to tell his dad.
I’d love you when you’re calm and when you go berserk,
I’d love you even when the sonic screwdriver doesn’t work.
And if you asked me to,
I’d take The Draught of Living Death for you.
VERSE 2:
If you were on the quidditch team, I’d go to all your games.
And if Snape tried to knock you off, I’d set his robe in flames.
And if Dementors tried attacking when your back was turned,
I’d fight them off with my Patronus and give you chocolate afterward.
PRE-CHORUS:
I would be your Lumos if you would be my Nox,
And I would be your Dobby if you would be my sock.
CHORUS:
I’d love you when you’re happy and I’d love you when you’re sad,
I’d love you even when Malfoy threatens to tell his dad.
I’d love you when you’re calm and when you go berserk,
I’d love you even when the sonic screwdriver doesn’t work.
And if you asked me to,
I’d take The Draught of Living Death for you.
BRIDGE:
We’d get a house that’s bigger on the inside,
With a closet for your sweaters and bow ties.
You’d ask if I still loved you and say “After all this time?”
And I would say, “Always.”
And if you asked me to, I’d take The Draught of Living Death for you.
Magic is something that has captured the human interest for decades, and when thinking about magic, no two series come to the mind faster than Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. The two storylines are completely contrasting at first glance; Harry Potter is set in a magical school centered on three humans whilst Lord of the Rings is based in a fictional world called Middle-Earth with a plethora of different fabricated species. However, looking closer at both series you realize they have much more in common than originally thought. For example, they both have an antagonist referred to as the “Dark Lord”, as well as having a wise old man who helps guide the main characters through their struggles throughout the series.
Sauron in Lord of the Rings is the antagonist, constantly trying to regain physical shape, much like Voldemort in the Harry Potter series. They are both referred to as “Dark Lord”; however, Sauron serves an even greater power named Morgoth, whereas Voldemort is the most powerful in the wizarding world. Voldemort was extremely charismatic and intelligent, just like Sauron. He gained the admiration of students and professors alike, and started gaining followers early on. Of course, both he and Sauron lost their beauty, ultimately driving them to do more through power and fear. Both antagonists lose their strength and power and become robbed of their physical form. For Sauron, it was the destruction of the Ring, whereas for Voldemort it was the dying of Lily Potter for her son; it was an action that held such great love, something Voldemort could never understand. Therefore, the spell backfired and caused him to become nothing but a spirit, unable to cause mischief in the world, a fate duly handed to Sauron when the Ring was destroyed. Both never stop chasing the dream of immortality; Sauron sought after the One Ring, whereas Voldemort stored seven pieces of his soul as Horcruxes in hopes of living forever.
Gandalf and Dumbledore possess many similarities as well; they both are wise, old, and have gray beards. More importantly however, they both act as guides and mentors towards the others in both series. The two characters role of importance is one of their most binding comparisons. For example, Dumbledore was the Leader of The Order of The Phoenix, whereas Gandalf was the Leader of The Fellowship of the Ring. They both orchestrated a very key event in the series; Dumbledore organized the mission to hunt the Horcruxes, while Gandalf arranged The Burglary. In addition, I quite believe that their almost whimsical nature is a shared trait of both characters. For example, in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, Dumbledore stops the procession in the Great Hall merely to say four significantly meaningless words: “Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!” I think Gandalf shows this in The Hobbit after the group spends their first night on Beorn’s property. Gandalf comes back and decides to spend some time blowing smoke rings, rather than actually discussing things of importance and telling the group why he hasn’t been there all day.
Thirdly, I believe both series have a birthday that sets the momentum for the story. In Harry Potter, his 11th birthday brings his acceptance to Hogwarts and his official introduction into the wizarding world. It granted him an escape from his almost abusive home life with the Dursleys and gave him a chance to truly find his destiny in the world. On Frodo’s 33rd and Bilbo’s 111th birthday, Bilbo decides to leave the Shire, granting Frodo his estate and the One Ring. Though the real story does not begin until 18 years later when Gandalf shows up at Bag End and tells Frodo the back story of the One Ring; if Bilbo had not left the ring to Frodo, then he never would have journeyed to Rivendell in order to keep the Ring safe from Sauron.Frodo and Harry have several things in common; for one, both long for a safe haven. For Harry, it was during the summers he spent with the Dursleys that he would long to be back at Hogwarts, where he was happy, with friends, and felt he belonged. Frodo constantly wished to be back in the safety of the Shire as he made his way to Rivendell, growing tired of the consistent hardships. Another similarity between the two main characters is that they are both sent from their homes to live with their uncles, however different their experiences there might have been. What is even more interesting is that both Harry and Frodo were sent there because of their parent’s death. Harry, because of Voldemort’s ruthless murder, was sent to live with his Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and cousin Dudley. Frodo, at the age of 21, was adopted by his Uncle Bilbo because of his parent’s drowning, first sharing the estate and then living there on his own. Yet another comparison of Harry and Frodo is that they both bear scars given to them by evil forces; Harry’s was given to him by the spell that was originally intended to kill him. However, because of the love his mother had for him, left him with a mere lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. Frodo however, obtained his by being stabbed by the Leader of the Nazguls with a Morgul blade. They both carry this scar for their lifetimes. In addition, both Frodo and Harry possess an item which grants them invisibility. An invisibility cloak was granted to Harry on Christmas morning from Dumbledore. It was handed down Ignotus’ family line and eventually ended up in the hands of his final known descendants, the Potters. It eventually ended up in the hands of Harry’s father. After James was killed, the Cloak was left in Dumbledore’s possession and eventually handed down to Harry. Frodo was granted invisibility by the Ring, given to him by Bilbo, along with his estate when he left the Shire after his 111th birthday party.
There are many geographical similarities between the two worlds. Both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings both have a Dark Forest, as well as a dangerous willow tree, and both have good reason for not going into the water. The Forbidden Forest in Harry Potter is of course, forbidden to the students of Hogwarts, and surrounds the grounds of the school. Many different magical creatures inhabit the forest, including unicorns, centaurs, and acromantulas. In the heart of the forest there lies a dome-shaped nest that houses acromantulas named Aragog and Mosag, together with their large family, which now encompasses hundreds of the giant spiders, all descending from the original pair. However, just outside of the Shire there lies an old forest, where the trees are said to be hostile. They sway when there is no wind, whisper at night, and mislead travelers deeper into the forest. When the trees grew too close to the Hedge, hobbits cut down the trees nearest and created a clearing by a bonfire. Ever since then, the trees were more hostile. Deep within the Old Forest was the Withywindle Valley, a dark, evil and malevolent place which was the root of all the terrors of the forest. Secondly, they both possess a very dangerous and unpredictable willow tree, which is able to move its trunk and branches. Hogwarts houses the Whomping Willow, in which Harry and Ron both get stuck in and nearly killed when they crash into it in their second year. It is built on top of the Shrieking Shack, where Sirius Black hid while the Ministry was on the lookout for him from escaping from Azkaban. Now, within the Old Forest of Middle-Earth there lies Old Man Willow. Unlike the Whomping Willow of the wizarding world, Old Man Willow has exceptionally more power over humans and can even cast spells to put them to sleep. It has a personality, an evil one, and teams up with the trees in the forest to make a traveler’s walk through a nightmare. And thirdly, both series have a very good reason to not disturb the waters. The lake near Hogwarts was used in The Triwizard Tournament, and houses the terrifying giant squid, along with a profusion of merpeople. The merpeople attacked the candidates as they were trying to complete the task at hand. Meanwhile, lurking in a lake beneath the western walls of the dwarf-realm Moria, The Watcher in the Water is said to have appeared after the damming of the river Sirannon. The origins of the creature are not described in Tolkien’s works, but it is compared to squids, and even the legendary kraken.Rowling and Tolkien’s works mirror each other in many different ways, though by just looking at the plot and setting, you would never have realized it. No two works ever seem alike at first glance, but if you delve deeper, you can see that there are many more comparisons than originally thought. From Tolkien’s complex imaginary world to Rowling’s magically fantastic society, they both truly capture the meaning of magic and present it in ways that will live on for decades.
“Tomorrow, right?” she said, as she walked backward, waiting to catch my answer before she turned around again.
“Yeah, tomorrow.” I confirmed.
I watched her walk away before I turned back to walk toward my house.
From the moment I walked in until I could catch my breath again seemed like forever. “Where have you been.” I was now against the wall, my throat in the hands of my father.
I wanted out. Now. He pressed against me harder, suppressing my airways, making it harder to breathe.
“Where. Have You. Been.”
“I was…out…out with…Charlotte.” I sputtered, trying to get the words out despite my lack of oxygen.
I saw his face. The way his eyes twinkled. I knew what came next. I closed my eyes, trying desperately to get away from where I was. But he brought me back. And I endured it, every bit of it, without a scream. Some say that would make me a whore. Some say it would make me weak, others strong. I say it made me alive.
I ran out, away. Never would I spend another night in the same fucking house as that monster. I walked to Charlie’s house. Two miles and my bare feet were aching. I walked to where her room was, and threw stones at her window. Whispered her name. Finally I saw the window give and lift up and her head pop out.
“What do you want? It’s one in the morning!” She said, half asleep and half joking.
“Can I stay here for the night?”
I climbed in the window with ease. I thanked her and we climbed in to bed. I loved being here, with her. God knows I had nobody else.
Nighttime opens the floodgates; where the fence is low and the water is rising. All my emotions come pouring out, tenfold. All of the pain and rage and insecurity.
It shakes my body and rattles my bones; the tears I cry into my pillow. About how much of a failure I am, and how I’ve disappointed the people I love most in my life. About how I’ve disappointed myself.
About how I will lose you, eventually. The greatest thing I’ve ever had. The little tastes of heartbreak I’ve felt are only samples of what is to come. Of what will become of me.
About how I should have said no when his hands moved further upward. But I sat there, frozen, unsure of everything, as he had his way with me. The memories haunt me at night, as my mind carves the word slut into me.
And think of how nice a razor would feel across my skin. I picture the blood as I press the instrument into my flesh, leaving a trail of beautiful redness seeping through the crack. My heart aches with longing.
And so I try my hardest to sleep the pain away.
“It’s weird, I spent so much time hating it, but it never said a bad thing back to me.” — Tim Minchin about his body.
Anonymous asked: Can u post about suicide & depression?
i already kinda do…. but yeah, i have a writing about depression that i have yet to put up and i’ll probably write something tonight.
It’s completely unfair that I have all these thoughts and feelings and CHOICES about when I get married and if I do, and what its going to be like, and where it is, and there are people who don’t have a choice. It’s just wrong.
You go around preaching tolerance and “loving everybody” when you’re oppressing love yourself. It really isn’t about marriage or undermining the institution of marriage at all. It doesn’t matter who sticks their genitals where or what they do with them.
It’s the fact that two people who love each other and want to show that love to the world, aren’t able to. You let a girl marry the fucking Effiel Tower, but you won’t let a man marry another man? Really?
I thought that ever since, oh…1776, we have established the fact that all humans are fucking equal. And the separation of Church and State. Marriage, in it’s purest form, is two people who love each becoming one in order to live out their lives together forever. And I believe that right should be extended to all human beings, regardless of something as insignificant as their sexual orientation.
So, North Carolina, go fuck yourself. I am a 17 year old bisexual and if I want to marry a girl, I think I should be able to.
not sure what to title this. should i go on? meh.
I stormed to my bedroom. Like fuck you, mom. A couple more beers and your words will be too slurred to say anything to me. I’m surprised you could still walk. I’m so fucking done with this place; the only thing that’s keeping me here is Charlie.
I’m not sleeping here tonight.
I called her up.
“Hi Mrs. Drew, it’s Kaleb. Can I please speak to Charlotte?”
I could see her cupping the phone receiver as she yelled over her shoulder at her daughter. “Charlotte!”
I could hear her footsteps on the floor as she walked; her milky breath as she held the phone to her mouth.
“Hey Kai. What’s up?”
“I’m coming over. That okay?”
She didn’t give me an answer; there wasn’t really one to give. I only asked because it was polite.
“See you soon then.”
She hung up. I could listen to her milky, sweet voice all day. Her mouth was amazing. Everything that she did with it was perfect.
I made sure I looked my best, the best one could look for going over a ‘friends’ house.
I knocked on her window and she let me in.
He’s chanting in my ear, the beautiful monster.
Says I need to see blood to feel okay.
Part of me believes him, tries to grab the handle of my beautiful saviour.
But part of me pulls back, because I know the repercussions.
The disappointment, the anger.
The voice.
“Good job, Kirsten. You did it. You put yourself in your place.” as the blood runs down my arms.
I let out a sigh, a smile crosses my face, and the knot in my stomach loosens a bit. But just as it does so, it tightens again.
The voice in my head gets louder. Harsher. It screams so loud that it rattles the inside of my skull as it tells me exactly what I am.
“You slutty, disgusting, rotten, worthless, ugly, lethargic piece of utter shit. You know what to do. Let me see blood. Go on. Let me see blood. Do it. Do it. DO IT. DO IT. DOITDOITDOITDOIT—”
I feel the new, beautiful, backstabbing redness slide down my arm. The shame overtaking the smile.
And so it begins.
I’m a cutter.
Welcome to my mind.
Ugh. Math class is always so fucking boring. Why the hell do we even have to learn half this shit? Like seriously. I slump back in my chair and put my hood up, getting comfortable in order to sleep out the next forty or so minutes. But the teacher is looking straight at me (disapprovingly I might add), and nobody else has their head down yet. So I keep my head up, vaguely in her direction to make it look like I’m paying attention so she won’t call on me. That precise direction leaves me staring at Lua, aka The Girl in the Front Row Who Never Talks. She’s like two years younger than me but smart as hell. She gets fucking A’s on every fucking test. Like what the hell? The only thing getting me through this period is the weed yet to be smoked in my backpack, and fact that she’s actually pretty hot. I stare at her longer, hoping to gain some insight into whatever she thinks up in that mysterious head of hers. She flies under the radar mostly, but god if she pulled that hair back out of her face and maybe pasted a smile on once in a while, the guys would be flinging themselves on their knees for her. Finally, she gets up, signs her name and walks out.
Ugh bathroom. She does this like, freaking everyday. At the same freaking time. It didn’t bother me before, but now I have nothing to divide my attention away from what we we’re now learning….algorithms, Grrrreat.
So I decide to get up and follow her. Maybe she’s going to sneak off and hook up with some guy. Or maybe she’s bulimic. Or maybe she’s one of those people that give other people sex on the phone. Or maybe she’s a prostitute…woah buddy. I’m just following her to the bathroom, jeezus. That sounded much more pedophile-ish than it was supposed to. Anyway, I sneak out the door.
I see her, down the hall. I keep my hood up and my head down. God. I’m not fucking stalking the woman. It’s my choice of words, I swear. It was all very innocent. And then, from afar, I hear her gag and throw up.
No fucking way.
Then I heard a thump. Did she faint? Holy fuck. She fainted. What the fuck do I do? Do I go back and tell the teacher? No way, that’d just be plain cruel. It’d be all over the school if I did that. Not like Teach would do anything anyway, she’s fat as hell. The girl would be dead before she got halfway down the hall. Okay, Noah. Calm the fuck down. It’s the girls bathroom, holy shit you’re not five anymore. So I went in. I was surprised. For some reason, I expected it to look all pink and frilly. It was brown and fucking disgusting just like the guys but with no urinals.
And there she lay. That beautiful, fucked-up, secretive, hot….Lua. I couldn’t bring her back to class and I sure as hell am not taking her to the nurse. The nurse is like eighty years old and won’t do anything. She’ll probably try and ask Lua herself if she wants to ‘sleep it off’. Lady, she’s fucking unconscious. And I figure, anywhere I take this girl, I should be able to smoke my weed. This is way too much shit for me to have to deal with while I’m sober. So I pick her up bride-style, and carry her outside. To the tree where I go during free periods and lunch to eat. And as far as ‘m concerned, math is a free period.
I prop her up against the trunk and….wait, should I lay her down? I take off my sweatshirt and prop it under her head like a pillow. I know she should have water or some liquids or whatever, but she’s just gonna have to hack it because I don’t have any.
It seemed to take her forever to wake up. I stared at her the whole time. Which freaked me out, because when I found her all I wanted to do was smoke some weed. Now that I had her, weed didn’t even seem to exist for me anymore. I didn’t want to be high, I wanted to be right here. I found myself caring for this girl as she lay there unconscious. I haven’t even spoken a fucking word to this girl. Fuck. I’m turning into one of those sappy assholes who are all cute with their girlfriends and whatnot. Ugh. Then finally, I heard her groan in agony. Holy shit, she’s waking up. Fuck. What do I do. What do I say. Fuck. Does my sweatshirt smell? ….Holy shit. I did not just care what she thought. Did I?
_____________________________________________________________________
Ohmygodmyfuckinghead. It was like red-hot searing pain with a heartbeat. And on top of that I felt terrible and shaky. I was in a total daze, I was looking through spots of light-headedness. I was probably having hallucinations too, because I could swear I was in a freaking forest with Noah Chamberlain. I wasn’t comfortable with that exactly, so I started to sit up, eager to see whatever room I was actually in. And then he spoke.
“Woah, woah. You’re going to hurt yourself. Lay down and rest. I don’t have water, and that’s already bad enough.” Holy shit. It…I’m…what?
“Where am I? Who are you? Why can’t I wake up? Why are you here?”
“Uh, you’re by the school. And it’s Noah. Yeah…I know that’s weird. It’s a funny story actually….I, I heard you fall, and….I thought I should check on you…and I didn’t know what to do, so….I brought you here.” The last word sounded like a question. Was Noah Chamberlain, the pothead, nervous? Surprised he’s not high.
“Uh….why didn’t you bring me to the nurse?”
“You were unconscious, what could she possibly do? She probably try fucking and talk to you to see if you’d sleep it off.” I chuckled inside. He’s probably right. Or she’d freak out and call my parents. Which would not be good for anyone. Suddenly, I felt thankful that it was him who found me. …..Okay L, things are getting really weird.
I sat up, now feeling much better. I finally saw what was under my head. His sweatshirt. It didn’t smell of pot or B.O., which surprised me. It actually smelled like axe. Like, clean. Wow. Noah actually kept himself clean. Shocker. And he actually has a heart. He didn’t let me sleep in the dirt. Or, I guess that gives him a brain. Also a shocker. I handed it back to him awkwardly.
“Thanks.” I said, with my head down, trying not to sound too shocked.
_____________________________________________________________________
Fuck. This is so awkward. I gave you my fucking sweatshirt and carried your ass all the way out here, restrained from smoking to make sure you were okay, and all you have to fucking say is “Thanks.”? Like who the hell are….ohmygod. She’s looking at me. Tears are forming. Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit. She’s crying. Red alert. Get out. Girl’s crying. Emotions. Can’t deal. Get out.
“So…”
Fuck. Too late. Ugh. Just get through it Noah. Just get through it. Just look at her tits as much as possible. Tits. Tits. Just look at her tits.
“I’m really sorry. You didn’t need to do all that for me….”
FUCK. No. They turn me on. Fuck. Cannot get a boner in front of this girl. That would be beyond awkward. Just stare into her eyes. That’s less creepy and more nice. And less ape-ish.
“But thank you, because I know you could have just easily left me there.”
Yeah. I could have. You better be happy. …Ugh. Fuck you, Noah. Stop being a prick.
“Yeah, uh….you’re welcome. Anytime.” I shuffled, not knowing what to say. She smiled. God it was a sexy smile. Then she leaned over and kissed my cheek. Ohmygod. The scent of her drove me insane. All I wanted to do was kiss her more.
So I did.
“You’re too beautiful to do that to yourself.”
A year and a half later.
We hadn’t seen each other in a couple months. I (surprisingly, I thought all my brain cells had died) had gone to college and she was still fucking killing it in high school. Granted, I left our friendship on the back burner. Yeah, I knew it hurt her, but I did it anyway. She called that night, you know. Before it happened. Tried to get into touch with me. I was at a party and ignored her. Never cared enough to call her back. Might have been a bit tipsy at the time, who knows. Then her parents called and said she was here. In the hospital. They asked if I knew why she would have done something like this; they thought she was better.
It’s not that I didn’t care about her. I’d take a fucking bullet for that girl. All I want is her to be happy. I just fucking can’t show it right. I never know what to say. She’s so precise; needs precisely the right words or it doesn’t click. I walked in, scared as hell to see what she looked like.
She had cuts all over her arms. Not across the lake, they were down the river. Big ones. Big, deep ones. They were gauzed and bandaged. So was her head. According to Doc, she hit her head when she passed out from loss of blood. They gave her a transfusion. It was all just too much to handle. Because I could have stopped it. But I didn’t.
And then she opened her eyes and stared straight into mine.
______________________________________________________________________
I looked at him. I looked at myself, and then I looked at him once more. There were so many things I wanted to say, so many things, unspoken between us.
“Hi.” he said. He shuffled his feet. Yeah, it better make you fucking uncomfortable, you asshole.
“Mmmmhm.” I mustered. I wanted him to talk. He deserved it.
“So….how are you?”
“Fine. Not like you’d care.” Tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn’t bear to be nice to him. The person I loved so much. The hurt came out as anger. Hell, I was fucking angry. But I was mostly hurt. I fucking loved him. And he killed me. Or, almost anyway.
“I do care, that’s why I’m here.”
“Uh-huh. You don’t even care enough to pick up the phone.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You barely even know me anymore and I barely know you.”
“I guess we just need to learn to communicate better.” Woah. Hold up. We? Nah-ah. You need to learn to communicate better.
“I’ve tried. But you were just a dick every time you picked up the phone. So I stopped calling and you never did. I missed you, and I’d call again. And get let down again. You didn’t try. You never tried. You said you did, you said you would. And I was stupid enough to believe you.”
“I’m sorry…” Ohmygod. He was actually crying.
“I love you. I care about you, I just don’t know how to show it…” As he got more and more broken up, the more angry I got. The more hurt I got. I could not cry. Not in front of this inglorious bastard. You don’t deserve me to be nice to you, after everything you’ve done. I can’t satisfy you. I won’t. His fists went up to his eyes; he shook.
“Please…I’m so sorry…”
Why did I just get more and more angry? Why did I want to hit him? There he was, apologizing, just like I wanted. But all I did was turn my back and give him the cold shoulder. Why?
“I don’t care. Get out.” But he did the exact opposite. He sat on the edge of my bed and composed himself. I stared at him. How I longed to be carefree again. As much as I hated to admit it, I longed to be in his arms again. But how much he hurt me, how much he broke me, it could never happen.
“So how is she?” I asked about his girlfriend, as much as it killed me inside.
“She’s fine. I’m sure you don’t really care.” He laughed a bit.
“No, I…” Ya know what, I didn’t give a shit, and I wasn’t going to pretend I did.
“So, tell me exactly what you’re thinking, right now.” What kind of question was that? So many things you needed to know but didn’t care to find out until now.
“I….I dunno.”
“You do know. Tell me.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Lua. I’m sitting here. Tell me.”
I stared down at my lap. I didn’t know where to begin.
“Just rant. Just start talking. I’ll put it all together, just talk. Doesn’t matter if it makes sense.”
“I hate you. But I love you. But you hurt me horribly, and you don’t seem to care. And that hurts me even more. Because I would do so much for you, but it seems you won’t do anything for me. I expect from my friends what I would do for them. You don’t care, unless it’s convenient for you. I hate who you’ve become. This person who doesn’t give a shit. I love you and I care for you. But you don’t deserve that.”
And with that, I turned on my side. I could hear him get up, and come nearer to my face. He kissed my cheek.
“It seems as though your life is better without me. Goodbye, Lua. I never meant hurt you.”
I could hear his footsteps get closer to the door.
“Noah?”
“Yes?” His face was hopeful.
“One more thing.”
He looked at me expectantly.
“You did this to me.” I gestured to my hospital bed, my arms, my newfound condition. His eyes got wide, and just made it out of the room before I could tell he collapsed.
God, I’m such an asshole. But he needed to know. Nothing else would have woken him up and I knew it.
Goodbye Noah. I’ll miss you.
*Dedicated to Greg Erickson.