*coupling

  • Yuuri: T-This is an engagement ring?
  • Viktor: Yes,it is.
  • Yuuri: An engagement ring!...do you have a boyfriend?
  • Viktor: Yes Yuuri...It's you.
  • Yuuri: Me?!
  • Viktor: Yes,you!
  • Yuuri: Who are you proposing to then?
  • Viktor: ...

anonymous asked:

FYI: A Case for Johnlock: Why SHERLOCK Should Embrace Its Ship of Dreams | ScreenSpy

Thank you!

Article link…


A Case for Johnlock: Why SHERLOCK Should Embrace Its Ship of Dreams - By Chris. B

Modern television has more “ships” than the Pacific Ocean. Virtually every character on the airwaves has been matched with another, fancied relationships dreamed up by eager fans, either to generate laughs or to satisfy personal passions.  Every fandom has its favorite pairs, but if you’re a follower of the BBC’s Sherlock, the most discussed coupling by far is that John and Sherlock, or Johnlock.  The desire to see these two together in more than a simple platonic friendship is one that is played out in blogs and fan fiction regularly, but is this something fans will ever see developed on screen? 

There are many factors to consider here.  Sadly, in 2017, there is still a certain amount of controversy about showing a gay couple in an everyday relationship, one that is not present for purposes of comic relief or sideline plot support.  Would the network and affiliates allow it?  How conservative are its politics and those of its advertisers?  Given the overwhelming popularity of the show on an international scale, I would wager their wallets would easily trump any qualms that might exist.  It is amazing how capitalism can solve all manner of perceived ills. 

Regardless, do Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat even want this to be the dynamic of their characters?  According to them, the answer is no.  In an interview with Valerie Parker in July of last year, Gatiss claimed, “…we’ve explicitly said this is not going to happen – there is no game plan – no matter how much we lie about other things, that this show is going to culminate in Martin and Benedict going off into the sunset together. They are not going to do it.” 

That sounds pretty final.  Maybe. 

Since these two have made the most of The X-Files philosophy that a lie is most conveniently hidden between two truths, there is always room for doubt.  (Really, how likely is it that a seasoned professional like Gatiss suddenly mistook the names of his characters for those of the men who portray them?) 

In any case, I think an openly romantic relationship between John and Sherlock would be well worth it.  Consider the following points and determine for yourself if this match is a just a forgettable fantasy, or if it could be an ultimate destiny. 

 5. The characters are already tightly bonded 

No one would argue with the idea that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s original characters of Holmes and Watson are best friends; through each of the numerous variations presented over the intervening century plus, this is one of the few facets has remained consistent.  They are a team. Individually, though, each member of the team is lacking.  At one point, Sherlock confesses in “The Great Game” that he’s been “reliably informed” that he has no heart, going so far as to declare several different times that he is a high-functioning sociopath.  John, on the other hand, is “abnormally attracted to dangerous situations and people”; he misses the war that left him behind.  Both have a hole that they need to fill, and that is exactly what the other satisfies. 

In Sherlock, this is reinforced repeatedly.  John and Sherlock are clearly presented as two halves of the same whole, each needing the other to be a complete version of himself—John, the heart and inspiration; Sherlock, the excitement and intellectual challenge.  When Sherlock is baffled why a woman would be upset about her child’s death after fourteen years or when he too gleefully investigates a child kidnapping, John is there to mediate his reactions.  Then, when Sherlock returns in “The Empty Hearse,” he insists correctly of John, “You have missed this…the thrill of the chase, the blood pumping through your veins, the two of us against the rest of the world.”  Later, in “The Abominable Bride,” John quips to Moriarty, “There are always two of us.”  There must be.  Inevitably, all roads they take lead to Baker Street, back to their roots together.   

4. There is already plenty of precedent for it 

Sherlock has never shied away from the suggestion that Sherlock and John are more than friends.  From the outset, John is mistaken for Sherlock’s date, and the man who will “outlive God trying to have the last word” makes no correction, nor does he when a reporter in “The Reichenbach Fall” asks for a quote about whether he and Dr. Watson are “strictly platonic.”  Further, the two gay owners of The Cross Keys Inn from “The Hounds of Baskerville” assess John and Sherlock as a pair; and Mrs. Hudson, who lives just a floor below them and knows them very well, refers to one of their arguments as “a little domestic” and is shocked when John is ready to move on (to marry a woman?) a full two years after Sherlock’s supposed death.  Then, Irene Adler, who sizes people up as adeptly as Sherlock, calls out John’s jealousy about the 57 unanswered texts that she’s sent (yes, John kept track) and flatly counters John’s insistence that he and Sherlock are a couple:  “Yes, you are.”  Finally, in “The Abominable Bride,” when John saves his other half from the precipice and Sherlock gushes about John’s intelligence, Moriarty himself rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Oh, why don’t you two just elope, for God’s sake!” 

There are innumerable instances of extreme devotion shown to us as well.  In “His Last Vow” Sherlock literally restarts his own heart because John is in danger, then commits murder to protect John from the thumb of Magnussen’s extortion.  In “The Great Game” John throws himself on Moriarty to allow Sherlock to escape the bomb he wears, and in “A Scandal in Belgravia,” he dumps his girlfriend and their holiday plans to stay home and look after Sherlock, a choice he makes easily after she demands, “Don’t make me compete with Sherlock Holmes!”  (Oh, he won’t, dear; there’s no contest.)  Further, images abound of the intense and meaningful stares shared by these two, traded like stocks on internet forums and social media, all screaming of something bubbling beneath the surface.  Thus, to transition to an official couple would not be much of a stretch.  

3. It fits the transformational model of the show 

Gatiss and Moffat have shown a penchant for pushing the envelope with their version of Doyle’s characters. Would Doyle have raised his eyebrows over John’s sibling being a divorced lesbian who’s taken to drink?  I doubt the original author could have imagined Mrs. Hudson as a former exotic dancer who had been married to the head of a drug cartel.  And certainly no one anticipated that the lovable Mary Morstan would turn out to be a former intelligence agent and ruthless trained assassin. 

The creators have not been afraid to add their own special spice to these characters.  In a 2014 interview with Phil Ittner, Gatiss and Moffat asserted, “Most of [the series] is actually completely new, so there’s not a drying-up of the source…we’re slightly broadening out the world a bit and being slightly more heretical than we probably would have been at the beginning. But then that’s good, it feels like this is our version…”   To go all-in and apex this concept with the core pair would allow them to make a truly indelible mark on the enormous canon of Sherlock Holmes iterations. 

After all, side characters are only so revealing; in this universe, John and Sherlock are the only ones who matter.  The series has been proposed as the story of the development of a genius, hence its very specific title, so building Sherlock Holmes to the point where he can freely give and receive love, achieving true intimacy, would be the greatest development possible.  Gatiss and Moffat could provide that humanity for him, to create their own warm center to the notoriously melancholy sphere of the private life of the world’s only consulting detective.   

2. Proper representation matters 

All segments of society can and should have a right to see themselves recognized unabashedly by the media they consume, whether it is fiction or non-fiction.  In the twenty-first century, this should not still be the struggle that it is, yet any in the LBGTQ community know how resistant this practice is to change in the machine of social institutions.  Too often, gay characters are used as statue pieces or comic relief, sidelines or after thoughts; they are not permitted to be real and valuable human beings, but are stock characters and stereotypes, extras who inevitably get the axe if the Grim Reaper comes calling.

 Steven Moffat has been most emphatic on the issue that the showing of gay or bisexual characters in popular culture should not be approached with triviality, that it is a serious issue that should be offered (particularly to young people) in a way that denotes true acceptance.  In his Parker interview, he asserted, “You don’t want to essentially tell children that [being gay is] something to campaign about. You want to say this is absolutely fine and normal. There is no question to answer. You want to walk right past it, in a way. You don’t want to…say, as sometimes other kinds of literature or movies might, we forgive you for being gay. You’re just saying you’re gay and it doesn’t matter. There’s no issue.” 

Essentially, one’s sexuality is just an average, marginally interesting, non-personality-defining, run-of-the-mill reality.  Thus, no matter what your sexual bent, it is not odd; it is not special or different, wonderful or terrible.  It just is, as mundane to one’s whole character as eye color or shoe size.  Indeed, until this matter does not flutter pulses with its rakish novelty, true acceptance has not yet occurred.  Having Sherlock and John integrate their sexuality seamlessly into the roster of the other attributes that the audience has witnessed, to roll it into the entire picture of who they are, we would be granted a relaxed and genuine portrayal of a devoted couple that happens to be gay, one from which we could all ultimately benefit.   

1. It would count Sherlock is a global phenomenon.  

According to the Radio Times, it is shown in 224 countries and territories around the world, making it the most watched of any of the BBC’s programs, surpassing even Dr. Who, which has decades of history.  It has spawned blogs and merchandise and a number of Sherlocked fan events, which are major affairs to rival the most popular comic cons, where every artifact, set detail, and image from the show is cherished and applauded. 

The series’ leads, Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman, are beloved international stars.  Thanks in no small part to this show, they are in constant demand and headline massive studio projects, like The Hobbit series of films and Marvel’s Dr. Strange.  Each has a immense following of fans, and rightly so—they are award-winning craftsmen, extremely versatile talents who deserve every bit of success they’ve acquired. 

This degree of influence and appeal leverages a lot of power. 

What this show brings to the table, the world eats; what it points to as its guides, people would notice, and what’s more, follow.  What, then, could be accomplished in social terms if Sherlock were to subtly demystify gay relationships?   What might result if a stellar product and the highly popular individuals involved indicate that a homosexual relationship is every bit as complicated and trying and boring and wonderful as every other kind? 

Respect. And with luck, progress.

Thanks, Chris. B

9

You too can have a thing

Sometimes when you’re aromantic (or some types of asexual) you can feel like everybody’s doing romantic relationships except you. The world says you’re lonely without romance or you’ll never be happy without coupling up, and sometimes it can feel like they’re right.

As an ace/aro who’s fulfilled without a partner, I’m here to say romance doesn’t have to be your thing and you don’t have to feel inferior. There are many worthwhile experiences in life and many kinds of love. You can find your thing.

It’s fine if your thing is pizza.

Daisy Ridley on the Reylo phenomenon

Interviewer: I’ve got to imagine people will occasionally ask you something about Rey’s parents, since that’s such an essential Star Wars mystery. What else do you get asked, when they do ask?
Daisy Ridley: Well, the big thing on social media is Reylo [fan art featuring romantic coupling of Rey and Kylo Ren]. I think people are interested in the romance of it, and if anything romantic is going to happen. So yeah I’d say parents first and then that.
Interviewer: So what are your feelings on Reylo?
Daisy Ridley: It’s kind of amazing to me, because it’s young people that have been talking about it. It’s weird, when I was on social media — and I still do follow the Instagram stuff, if anyone’s reading this, I do follow it — but these 12-, 13-year-old girls and boys are having these really interesting conversations about abuse and manipulation and chemistry and connection. So it’s actually kind of eye-opening. I don’t think at that age I would’ve thought so deeply about something like that. So to see kids have conversations like that I think is really cool, regardless of where it ends up it’s the conversation that’s really interesting.

- Daisy Ridley interview (Daisy Ridley on Putting Her Force Behind ‘Eagle Huntress,’ Funemployment, and the ’Reylo’ Phenomenon), November 3rd 2016.

The whole “married with kids” ending wouldn’t even be so bad if there was actual romantic development with the endgame couples. But coupling some popular ships, usually where only the woman expressed her love, and letting the fans make this cobweb of every moment that can pass as romantic is unfair. It’s not our job to pinpoint when they might’ve started falling in love. Show some flirting, a proposal, a kiss or something.

Learn from Fullmetal Alchemist!!! It’s the perfect example of shonen manga nailing the “married with kids” ending!

  • Brother: you can't write a gay apocalypse
  • Me: I can and will
  • Brother: no you can't, cuz humanity can only go on with heterosexual couples to keep making babies
  • Me: but consider what that means brother
  • Me: you're suggesting all available males and females pair up to propagate the species
  • Me: but also consider that this is a calculated loveless decision to ensure the survival of the species
  • Me: humanity becomes no better than any other animal
  • Me: humanity is essentially dead
  • Me: along comes a cosmic being
  • Me: that doesn't care for lesser life forms and kills any he deems barbaric
  • Me: and he sees just one couple, one same sex couple
  • Me: and he thinks hm
  • Me: all of these people just having sex to fulfill a biological imperative like damn heathens
  • Me: but then there's this one couple...who are together why?
  • Me: I see no reason for their coupling and yet they seem attached to one another, how bizarre, how curious
  • Me: and then instead of rightfully wiping us all out as a primitive species, he decides to study us
  • Me: bam
  • Me: gays save the world
  • Me: love wins bitch
  • Brother: that's the stupidest idea I've ever heard
  • Me: not as stupid as every apocalypse needing a sufficiently hot female and sufficiently macho man to get together to keep the species alive when we all know that their babies would end up having incestuous relationships and essentially dooming us all to genetic deficiency
Newt Scamander X Reader – Only Friend Part 2 of 3

Description – Newt and the reader go to the Christmas ball together but nothing goes according to plan. 

A/N – I’m sure there are a tonne of mistakes but I added way more than planned, have proof-read 3 times, and am tired as all hell, so thank you and goodnight.  Bonus points to me for keeping it gender neutral btw.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

*Part 1 link: http://writeyouin.tumblr.com/post/153776870357/newt-scamander-x-reader-only-friend-part-1

*Part 3 link: http://writeyouin.tumblr.com/post/154508514882/newt-scamander-x-reader-only-friend-part-3-of-3

Tags: @mua-is-queen @kitkat510 @lexbugz


Originally posted by sweetly87

You awaited Newt’s arrival at the bottom of the stairs which met the Entrance Hall. So far, you had seen multitudes of giggling girls and suave boys coupling up to enter the main hall and begin their celebrations but you were still alone, standing next to a suit of armour as if it would somehow protect you from the piercing stares. Many of the passing students made snide comments about your missing date, stating such things as, “The creature’s probably marrying a flobberworm,” or “Even he couldn’t stand a muggle born.” While the comments themselves didn’t bother you, you did have to wonder where Newt was. Was it possible that he had got too nervous to come? Would he ever do that to you? Was he away visiting one of his animals? You forced the questions out of your mind; Newt was a lot of things, mainly forgetful and a little oblivious when it came to others, but he had never once hurt you, and nor would he. You had to believe that at the very least.


Newt threw his trunk open, searching frantically for a suitable tie that would match his blue dress-robes. He did have a tie prepared but only two days before the Christmas ball, a Cornish pixie he had been keeping escaped its confinement and destroyed the tie, as well as several books, the dormitory pillows, and a few posters that previously covered the walls.

“Bugger,” he muttered to the empty room, “I’m already a mess and I haven’t even got there yet. What’s (Y/N) going to think?”

Well,” he thought, “At least the ball doesn’t start for another…

A glance at his pocket watch revealed that the ball had started thirty-five minutes ago, while he was searching for a tie, “Oh no!” Newt squeaked, scrambling up to get to the Main Hall’s entrance, where he was supposed to meet you.

How could I screw this up?” Newt screamed mentally as he raced through the castle, “I’m literally the biggest idiot Hogwarts has ever seen.

It was exactly 47 minutes into the ball when Newt reached the stairway where he was supposed to meet you. He cast his eyes around the room helplessly, scanning every inch repeatedly when he didn’t see you the first time. “(S)he’s gone…” he whispered despairingly.

His shoulders slumped as dewy tears threatened to flow unchecked.

“Newt.” You tapped his shoulder lightly.

Newt spun round with a distressed screech. You stood before him in an outfit of emerald satin, and for one fleeting moment Newt found himself comparing your apparel to the sumptuous scales of the Common Welsh Green dragon that he had read so much about.

“You were in such a rush that you ran right past me.” You chuckled, the movement making your outfit shimmer all the more. You looked Newt up and down, taking in his tousled hair and crumpled dress robes. His cheeks were red from the run and he looked entirely worn out; despite everything, his unkempt appearance only served you to find him more attractive if anything. “You look great.” You complimented, eyes aglow.

There were many words Newt wanted to describe you with, breath-taking, enchanting, and radiant topped the endless list, however he couldn’t manage a single one of them; he was too astounded by the fact that you had waited this long… for him. It was truly overwhelming that he could possibly find another reason to adore you.

“Hmm… Something’s missing though,” You continued, unconcerned by his silence, “I heard about a ‘mysterious creature’ wrecking they boys’ dorm. I wonder where that could have come from.”

The corners of Newt’s mouth twitched into a jittery grin.

“And I heard about a destroyed tie in the wreckage. Long story short, it gave me an excuse to get this.”

You held out a thin, black bow tie. Newt stared at the item, simultaneously loving it and hating himself for another one of his recent failings, “I um- I accidentally left your gift in the Forbidden Forest when I was- I’m sorry (Y/N), I messed it up again and I-”

“Shh.” You cut him off before he lost himself to another self-depreciating rant, “What matters is that you’re here. I couldn’t ask for more, now stay still a moment so I can sort this.”

Newt froze, the inside of his mouth turned dry, and a chill ran down his spine as you reached up to fix the bow tie around his neck. You were sure he could have completed the task himself but it didn’t change the fact that you wanted the intimacy of putting it on him yourself; you had even practised tying it on the bed post for the first few nights you had it until you knew how to do it properly.

“Th-thank you (Y/N). You- you are- you… It’s wonderful.”

You smiled and looked around to the few surrounding couples, each were holding hands. If you waited for Newt to take your hand, then you probably would have been left waiting all night. It was with that in mind that you offered your hand to him, he took it gingerly, hoping against all hopes that by the end of the night he would gain the confidence to ask you a question that had been on his mind since his second year as your friend.

Upon entering the main hall, you didn’t know where to look first; it was a feast to the eyes. Snow fell from the enchanted ceiling, ice sculptures were nestled between the punch bowls with tiny, enchanted, ice people skating atop them, the most extravagant Christmas tree you had ever seen stood in the corner, and couples were constantly weaving through the maze of circular tables to make their way to the dance floor where enchanted instruments were playing themselves.

“Woah…” You whispered in awe.

Newt’s eyes lit up when he saw your amazement. Although he felt uncomfortable at the prospect of a social gathering, your delight made it worthwhile, “I take it that you’ve never been to a ball like this?”

“Not in the muggle world, that’s for sure.”

“Yes, it’s truly…” he trailed off as his eyes travelled to someone else.

You followed his gaze over to another student, one you knew of but had never spoken too, Leta Lestrange. “You know her?”

“Uh, y-yes. We uh recently started talking during Care of Magical Creatures. We were paired together that day you had the flu.”

“That day I had the flu? Newt, that was last year, that is by no means recent. I can’t believe you haven’t introduced me to her.” You tried to keep the jibe playful, although you were a little hurt that he hadn’t at least mentioned Leta before.

“I meant to, it’s just that she’s a little… shy.”

You glanced at the Slytherin who was surrounded by other students, all in avid conversation with her, “She seems pretty good with them.”

“She told me once that she has to keep up appearances, being a Lestrange and all. Still, no matter. Uh- What-” He swallowed thickly, fighting through his nerves to ask you his question, “What do we do now? I’ve never been good at these sorts of things.”

“Well, considering we don’t have anyone but each-other to talk too and since the food isn’t out yet, how about we take Professor Dumbledore’s lead?”

Newt searched the room for one of the school’s most unconventional teachers. Professor Dumbledore was impossible to miss as the tallest member on the dance floor and the only adult there. He was in sequined, lilac dress-robes, doing his very own unusual dance which seemed to be a sort of sped up waltz with lots of spins and jumps thrown haphazardly in.

Newt shuffled backwards, almost bumping into another student, his eyes were wide and his mouth agape, “Y-Y-You mean d-dance?”

You smiled knowingly, “It’s really okay if you don’t want to Newt, we can just sit and talk if you’d prefer.”

“…No. We should dance, it’s what…” He struggled to avoid the word couples, “…people do.”

Before you had asked him to dance, Newt had intended to ask you; he was simply biding his time until he could manage the question. You beamed at him as he took your hand, leading you to the dance floor; there were a few curious stares on the way but it seemed that everyone was in too good a mood to make any more unpleasant comments as they had earlier.

The second the two of you stepped onto the dance floor it was almost as if the instruments sensed a change in mood, for the fast-paced tune previously playing ended abruptly, switching instead to a slower, more romantic one. As per usual, Newt had no idea what counted for acceptable, social conduct. His hands began twitching nervously as he looked from your waist to your back, wondering which he was supposed to hold.

Is it only couples who hold the waist? What if I do it wrong and (s)he notices? Oh dear, I know (s)he got other invitations here, what if they notice how incapable I am and cut in? Would (s)he go with them instead?” Newt’s mind reeled with the thoughts that were bombarding it, until everything was silenced by your gentle touch.

You had taken his hands, placing one on your waist and keeping hold of the other, meanwhile your free hand was left to travel to his shoulder. It took Newt all his strongest efforts to stop his hands from the trembling that they seemed so desperate to do. From there, Newt shuffled awkwardly around, never in time with the music, and often mumbling apologies when he stood on your feet or tripped over his own. It wasn’t long before one of his worst fears came to life; he stumbled too far away from the dance floor, tripping over a chair leg, onto the floor and bringing you down on top of him.

It only took one student’s derisive scream of, “LOOK, THE CREATURE CAN’T EVEN WAIT FOR MATING SEASON!” to bring the entire hall into raucous laughter.

Newt couldn’t make himself look at anything other than the floor. He just wanted time to stop, or the ability to disapparate and never return; surely, no amount of heinous torture could feel worse than this. Perhaps by the end of the night, he could find someone to obliviate his memory, that had to be better than the unbearable ridicule, right?

You pushed yourself off Newt, then offered your hand to him, forcing him to look at you. Once again, he found himself perplexed by your eyes. In them lay no embarrassment, no pity, and certainly no hatred for his mistake; instead, your gaze held only concern. Concern that unlike you, your friend wasn’t going to be okay, concern that this moment would make him revert to his previously insecure demeanour around you, and above all, concern that you wouldn’t be able to stop his pain.

When he didn’t take your hand, you grasped his arm, forcing him to get up.

“See Newt,” you exclaimed loudly, for all to hear, “I told you I couldn’t pull off moves like Dumbledore.”

As you had suspected, Dumbledore took the vocal que to speak up, turning the crowd’s attention to himself, “No matter, (Y/N),” he used your first name since it was an informal occasion, “It took me years to perfect those moves and I still fall now and again myself. Perhaps, one day, you will be as agile as me, however for now at least, we should put the dancing aside and feast.”

With a clap of Dumbledore’s hands, the circular tables filled with luxurious foods, causing most of the students to depart the dance floor, with barely stifled snorts.

You leaned in close to Newt, with a whisper that tickled his ears, “You okay?”

Much to his surprise, Newt found that he was truly feeling better than just a few moments ago, “Yes… a little.”

“Great, then how about we skip the food and take a walk outside, I don’t really feel like sitting with anyone other than you anyway.”

“Wait… what about the other dance? The one after dinner?”

“It’s no problem Newt, you don’t have to dance just for me. I don’t mind. Honestly.”

“No but- We have to dance. Tonight. At the end.”

You were puzzled by Newt’s sudden urge to dance, especially after the embarrassment he had just suffered, yet you held no argument, deciding that you’d get to the bottom of it later, “All right Newt, if it means that much to you then we can come back in time for the last dance. We can still go for a walk now though, if you want.”

Newt visibly relaxed. Frankly, he never wanted to dance again but there was a tradition based on a myth at the Hogwarts Christmas ball, one that every student knew about; every student except you, so it seemed. The myth was that the person you asked to the last dance was the one person you were destined to be with, and even though nobody believed in the myth, it had become a tradition to ask out your crush at the end of the last dance.


The illusion of snow indoors had not prepared you for the cold that sliced through you when you stepped out into the dark night’s icy air. You visibly shuddered, an action which Newt, who seemed almost unaffected, couldn’t miss.

“Are you alright?” He asked, a worried edge to his voice.

“Sure, I uh, just forgot how cold it is to be honest, stupid mistake during the middle of winter really.”

“Of course, how foolish of me, your outfit doesn’t even have sleeves. Here, take my coat.”

Newt hurried to remove his cloak-like coat, wrapping it around your shoulders before you could protest. Warmth seeped into you, taking away the cold in a way you hadn’t thought possible, “Jeez Newt, you always this warm?”

“It’s the robes. The entire outfit actually; it was enchanted to keep the wearer warm, no matter how cold it is. I got it done for a small fee at Madame Malkin’s, she was offering it to all Hogwarts students on discount.”

The two of you continued walking while you spoke, “Wow, I tend to forget just how handy wizards are. Sometimes it makes me feel stupid because all of this is common knowledge and I get a little bit left behind in the muggle world.”

“No! (Y/N), you’re the smartest person I’ve met. Ever. I bet there’s not a single wizard born student here that could have taught me to use a telephone like you did.”

You smiled a little sadly, “There’s about a dozen ways to communicate in the wizarding community, even through a fireplace.”

“Okay, then what about all the things you’ve learnt about magical creatures?”

“I love it but that’s all from you.”

“It doesn’t matter where you learnt it, just that you enjoy it, and if none of that counts then I can honestly say that I’ve never seen anyone else our age who taught themselves advanced medical magic beyond our level; I’m living proof of your skills in that.”

You had to giggle at the efforts Newt was going through to cheer you up, “Thanks, you really made my day.”

“If anyone deserves praise it’s you. After all, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met… inside and out.” He murmured the last part, like he was in a trance.

Newt came to a halt, you turned to face him curiously. He seemed to be looking at you differently, more intensely than usual. You had never seen him look at you like that before, it could almost be described as confidence.

I didn’t stutter.” Newt thought, stunned at the achievement, “Forget the dance. Now’s the time, out here, where it’s quiet, where I can just be myself without anyone watching.

“Is something wrong?” you asked hesitantly.

“No.” Newt spoke with ease, optimistic that he had chosen the right moment to speak his mind once and for all, “(Y/N), I need you to know that nobody makes me feel like you do; with you I can be myself all the time. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to talk this well again so um, (Y/N), will you be-”

“OW!” The wand in Newt’s coat burned fiercely against your skin, causing you to cry out in pain.

Newt visibly deflated as his speech was interrupted. You pulled the wand from its pocket to find that it was shooting out brightly coloured sparks.

“Oh My God!” Newt cried aloud, “Now? It’s happening now?”

You couldn’t tell if it was excitement or distress in his voice as he yelled at the wand.

“We have to go.” Newt grabbed your hand, pulling you off the path, into the shin deep snow below; even the coat couldn’t protect you from the biting cold that attacked your legs.

You didn’t have to ask Newt where he was taking you because there was only one destination in the direction you were heading; the two of you were going to the Forbidden Forest.


If it was anyone else dragging you into the Forbidden Forest at night, during heavy snowfall, you would have called them mad and run off. However, this wasn’t anyone else, this was Newt; this was somebody you trusted with your life. After only a few minutes the two of you were could run no longer, the snow had reached your knees, leaving you both fighting to get to your destination.

“What’s so important that we have to go into the Forbidden Forest right now?” You requested through chattering teeth.

“Do you remember the Augurey eggs we found a few weeks ago?”

You thought back to the beginning of the month, when the snow had only just begun to dust the ground. You had been in the forest helping Newt capture the Cornish pixie that so fiendishly destroyed the boys’ dormitory, when the two of you stumbled on the fresh corpse of a vulture-like bird with murky green and black plumage. Newt had told you that the bird was a female Augurey, and that he suspected it had been shot by a centaurs’ arrow, then bled out after escaping; most of it was mere speculation from the state of the bird’s body. It only took a little searching to find five, black eggs, nestled in a nearby thorn bush. After that the two of you made regular return trips to check on the eggs, keep them warm, and hide them from predators.

“Yeah,” you panted, “What about them?”

“They’re hatching.”

“Now?! How? They aren’t supposed to hatch till January, the hunting guide said so.”

“I know. I think they’re premature, which means they need us now more than ever; if they hatch in this they’ll die, we need to get them somewhere safe until the snow clears up.”

“Okay.”

The two of you waded further into the forest, glad for the cover that the trees provided; it was because of the cover that the snow receded to your ankles, making the rest of the trip easier in comparison to the earlier trek. When you got to the eggs, large chips and cracks had formed in the shells, showing thin, wet feathers underneath. There was a chorus of young, warbling chirps, while you and Newt shielded the thorn bush with your bodies, keeping the glacial winds out. The remainder of the egg hatching lasted only around ten minutes though the bitter cold made it feel a lot longer. By that point you had retrieved your wand from the inside of your outfit and summoned a blue fire over the nest to warm the hatchlings when they showed themselves.

“We can’t walk them back until the storm’s over.” You stated, “I’m going to put up a barrier spell to keep out the snow.”

Newt nodded gratefully, never taking his eyes off the eggs. Once the transparent dome was safely up, you leaned against Newt, sure that you both must be dishevelled messes.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Newt whispered in relief upon seeing the five healthy chicks leave their shells.

You grinned with tired eyes as the chicks cautiously approached you both.

“Hello,” Newt greeted in a high voice, “Yes, hello, that’s it, come to mummy.”

The chicks looked from you to Newt, taking tentative steps closer, apparently indecisive to which of you was “mummy.” Two of the chicks chose you while the remaing three approached Newt, then with a decisive hop, they jumped into the laps of their respective parents.

“Hi little ones.” You cooed, “Welcome to the world, you’re a little bit early but we love you anyway.”

Newt was stroking the tops of their heads with a maternal murmur of, “They’re so precious.”

“Yeah.” You agreed, resting your head on his shoulder, “Look at our children Newt, we did it, we protected them.”

Newt went rigid by your side, “O-our c-children?”

“Well, aren’t they? We’re going to raise them and look after them after all.”

“I-uh I suppose they are… y-yes, our ch-children.”

“Glad that’s settled. Now, before I pass out or something we have to name them. Girls or boys, I don’t care, these two are Steve and Lucy.”

“R-right. In that case I s-suppose m-mine are Will, Evie, and Phillip.”

“Perfect.” You yawned, finally giving into the exhaustion and falling asleep against Newt.

Newt shuffled awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed. It took him quite a bit of manoeuvring to settle against a nearby tree with you in his arms and five chicks on top of you, especially since his three were trying to get back to his lap. Admittedly, the storm had also drained him of energy but he couldn’t rest, not after the night’s events with you, not after you had so freely used the words, “Our children.” With that keeping him awake, Newt found it better to just lay with you, enjoying the serenity that the dome brought with it.


Distant explosions woke you with a start, Newt held you back so you wouldn’t roll onto the chicks who had taken to eating a small pile of bugs on the ground next to you; you looked to Newt’s grime covered hands, figuring that he must have dug for bugs while you slept.

“The fireworks mean the ball’s finished.” Newt commented, answering your question before you could even ask it.

“Right… I wonder the teachers would say if they saw us like this.” You gestured to your outfits which were stained, torn, and covered in filth.

Newt didn’t answer, instead he moved onto a different subject that had evidently been troubling him, “(Y/N)… I have to know… Are you angry right now?”

“What? No. Why would I be angry?”

“We missed the last dance… actually we missed most of the ball.”

You turned face him, “Newt, I don’t care about some stuffy old ball, we’re out here protecting lives that nobody else cares about, that’s way more worthwhile than some bloody ball. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’d rather be with you anyway.”

The sincerity and passion in your voice touched Newt in a way he couldn’t possibly describe. Twice in one night he had missed his opportunity to tell you his feelings, this time he was determined to get it right. He glanced down at your lips, incapable of thinking about anything else, and with one swift movement he moved to kiss you.

“Ow-” You rubbed your eye where Newt had just headbutted you upon missing his target.

“Bugger- I mean sorry…” He sighed despondently, “Sorry.”

“What was that meant to be?”

“I was t-trying to- your lips, they- I missed and-”

You pieced together his meaning, grinning once more as Newt stammered through his sentence.

“I c-couldn’t j-just get it right, I had to bugger it up-”

Your warm lips pressed against his cool cheek, silencing him, the familiar blush you had come to love covered his face, and words once again failed him.

“If it helps, I can stay still this time.” You teased.

Newt’s movements were jerky as he cupped your cheeks with shaking hands, clumsily pulling you into an inexperienced kiss; you could feel yourself smiling into the kiss as his teeth knocked against yours. Newt couldn’t believe it wasn’t a dream, the night had gone from one disaster to another but here you were despite it all, choosing him over everything else; it was that moment that he had never been more thankful for the clumsy student who had crashed into him during the first year, inevitably becoming his friend.

Receptors intro - pharmacology

Drugs act at four different levels

  • Molecular - immediate target for most drugs (eg propanolol binds to B-adregenic receptors)
  • Cellular - biochemical and other consequent effects (eg propanolol reduces Ca2+)
  • Tissue - function altered (eg propanolol decreases myocardial contractility) 
  • System - function altered (eg propanolol reduces need for cardiac output, easing pressure on cardiovascular system)

Most drug targets are proteins 

  • Receptors - for transmitter substances and hormones
  • Enzymes
  • Transport systems - ion channels, active transport
  • Substrates
  • Second messengers 
  • Antibodies 

some drugs act on nucleic acids.

Receptors

“Receptors are the sensing elements in the system of chemical communication that coordinate the function of all the different cells in the body.”

Upon recognition of ligand (chemical signalling molecule), receptor proteins transmit the signal into a biochemical change in the target cell.

Cell surface receptors

Hydrophilic transmitters act on cell surface receptors

  • peptides
  • most neurotransmitters 
  • other small molecules

All cell surface receptors are transmembrane proteins 

  • Extracellular domain - receptor site
  • transmembrane domain
  • intracellular domain - catalyic/coupling site, only present on certain receptors

Intracellular receptors 

Hydrophobic (lipid soluble) transmitters act on intracellular receptors

  • steroids
  • thyroid hormones
  • vitamin D

Drug interaction with receptors 

  • Agonist - activates receptor
  • Antagonist - binds to receptor without activating, thus presenting activation
  • Affinity - measure of how avidly a drug binds with receptor

Side effects occur when drugs bind to more than one type of receptor. Some bind irreversibly and most bind with weak intermolecular bonds. An equilibrium arises between bound and unbound drug.

(notes on types of receptor to follow - overview:)

Ligand-gated ion channels: open or close upon binding of a ligand

G-protein-coupled receptors: Transmembrane receptor protein that stimulates a GTP-binding signal transducer protein (G-protein) which in turn generates an intracellular second messenger

Nuclear receptors: Lipid soluble ligand that crosses the cell membrane and acts on an intracellular receptor

Kinase-linked receptors: Transmembrane receptor proteins with intrinsic or associated kinase activity which is allosterically regulated by a ligand that binds to the receptor’s extracellular domain

I’ve seen a lot of people ask about Russia’s tv rating system and how they’d be able to show Sherlock if Johnlock were to become canon, considering they have an “anti-lgbt” stance and screen their shows slightly ahead of time. Someone out there please correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought anything lgbt had to have an 18+ rating because it could be “corrupting the Russian youth”. Kids are who the censorship is for. This is why The Sims version that allowed for same-sex coupling had to be labeled 18+ in Russia. With this in mind, Irene Adler implying a sexual relationship with a naked woman tied to her bed should be enough to earn the 18+ rating. The censorship is there to prohibit “normalizing” homosexuality in front of children. BBC Sherlock has been doing that since day 1, considering there are many LGBT couples shown already. Sherlock should always have earned that 18+ rating in Russia.