Why Rick Riordan fans are some of the best fans you will meet
-They call the author “Uncle Rick”
-The movies are hated unanimously
-Love diverse characters
-Are all mostly teen girls despite the books being aimed at boys
-Cute OTPs and ships
-Small but welcoming (hufflepuffs of the fandom)
Annabeth’s voice caught on the word friend. Percy was a lot more than that. Even boyfriend really didn’t cover it. They’d been through so much together, at this point Percy was part of her–a sometimes annoying part, sure, but definitely a part she could not live without.
Author’s note: I’m shamelessly taking advantage of the fact that I can now insert some good ol’ House gifs in my posts. Also, authentically depicting House’s character is way harder than I initially thought, but hey – it’s my first time with him and I’m trying :) Aaaand prepare for some (a lot of) feels! Enjoy!
shot man blacked out? You called me back to the hospital for this,
idiot? There is no mystery,” House points out to me in a harsh,
chiding tone. Clearly he’s moody because he’s back to work, and
as such, he doesn’t fail to humiliate me in front of the entire
Team for God knows how many time. But it’s fine; I’m getting used
to it, and I’m usually not the only victim to his stinging snark.
doesn’t remember how it happened. After leaving the message I asked
him further questions and it turned out that he hardly ever gets
shot,” I say. House frowns at me, while his hand is rubbing his
right leg instinctively, apparently without his conscious consent to
it. A few seconds later, he averts his mesmerising blue eyes from me
only to dart it at the dark grey rug, deep in thought.
doesn’t prove anything,” he states firmly, but the heat has now
subsided from his tone. “Every cop gets shot from time to time.”
it have been the better choice to leave him there just like that?”
I snap. “I thought our priority was healing and making sure no
has further latent sicknesses by investigating until we’re
convinced with one out of the many choices,” I retort, crossing my
arms over my chest and giving House a meaningful look. When he
glances at me, I hold gazes with him for a while before giving in to
the temptation to lift an eyebrow at him. House is moving his lips
and making faces in the process, while thinking through the options
he has. No one speaks; we are all waiting for the boss’ decision.
What’s your theory?”
face lights up at his question—this means he officially accepted to
take the officer’s case. I try to stifle my giddiness as I launch
into my explanation, “It obviously has something to do with his
brain. Most likely it was caused by Multiple Sclerosis or a tumor in
his brain. I was planning to give him a CT and lumbar puncture.”
House nods okay, and motions in the general direction of the glass
door with his cane.
Good for us, not good for the patient. Go ahead,” he says. I’m
standing before he could even finish his sentence, and after closing
the officer’s file on the table and picking it up, I head to the
door with the folder clutched to my chest. However, before I’d
leave the office, House warns, “If you’re wrong, you’re fired.”
travel in the elevator seems suffocating after House’s threat.
Cuddy has told him he’s not in the position to decide whether I
stay or go, but I know him, and I’m definitely convinced that if he
doesn’t want me to work on a case, he can sabotage my attempts to
take part in it in any way.
to make sure, I quickly check the officer’s name once more when I
arrive to the floor he’s housed on, then walk to his room, weaving
my way through the few visitors and haphazard doctors. Upon entering,
the man looks at me, and I give him a small smile in return, hoping
he isn’t so worked up like he was yesterday.
Hale?” I ask politely, approaching the bed he’s laying on, now
dressed in just a flimsy pale green outfit that the hospital’s
patients are given. My eyes take a momentary glance at the monitor to
see his ECG diagram.
me,” he answers. His voice conveys no distress, no anger, just
resignation, like he’s surrendered to medicine. His eyes slip down
to my ID then, tilting his head just the tiniest bit to align it with
the angle of the card, eyes squinting to try and read my name.
Lockwood,” I introduce myself, for some reason feeling tempted to
stick my hand out for him to shake. This is how it’s appropriate,
right? He takes my hand in his—I’ve always known my hands are
small, but the way his broad palm and long fingers wrap around it,
makes it look even more insignificant in size. He gives me a firm
squeeze, which I return, then we let go of each other. “I need to
do a few tests on you,” I announce then, picking up his chart from
the end of the bed, and pulling the pen out of the pocket over my
chest, clicking it and writing on his paper the tests that are going
to be done on him.
tests?” he asks curtly, crossing his impressively muscled arms in
subconscious defence. I hang the chart back on the bed before walking
back to stand next to him. “Just a CT and a lumbar puncture,” I
answer. “No worries, the latter sounds worse than it actually is.”
not a vulnerable eggshell, you know,” Derek comments. For a second,
I think he was offended by my statement, think that he took it
personally, but the way his eyes twinkle slyly, I realise he’s just
asserting his masculinity a little sarcastically. Once more, I reach
out for him to help him move, but he dismisses it with a shake of his
head. Throwing the blanket to the side, and turning to let his legs
hang from the side of the bed, he adds, “I was just shot. I can
walk by myself.”
nod slowly, suddenly feeling embarrassed for some reason. My voice is
a near squeak when I say, “Right. Follow me then, please.”
wait while he puts his robe on to cover more of his body—the green
outfit is short, like the patient is merely wearing an oversized
T-shirt, and the V-neck of it leaves nothing to my imagination
regarding Derek’s pectorals, collar bones and strong shoulders. He
slips into his slippers, then we take off to the CT machine first.
o O o .
is no tumor in his brain,” I inform the Team about the results of
the CT. House gives me a look and narrows his eyes at me
suspiciously. The only reason this makes me feel worse than usual is
because this time he isn’t the only one standing in front of the
rest of the Team—I’m there beside him, too. To relieve the
tension a bit, I hold on to the folder in my hands for dear life,
fingers gripping it just a touch stronger than a moment ago.
too calm,” he assesses. “Too calm for someone who was told could
be fired if not everything goes smoothly. So I assume there’s more
do my best to tamper down the smugness that’s bubbling up in my
throat as I hand him over the paper with the results of the lumbar
puncture. “As you can see, the amount of his proteins and
leukocytes are increased.”
head perks up from where he was playing with his pen until now, “That
you it was something,”
I say pointedly to House, who just looks at me in return. I suppose
the knowing smirk on my face wasn’t overlooked by his insightful
blue eyes, because he quips, “Come on, don’t be so happy about
someone having an encephalitis. What kind of doctor are you?
fast to react. “What if I told you I was?” I ask challengingly.
million dollar question is, what would you
do upon hearing my answer, in case you’re actually a sociopath.”
about letting me know your answer and see where it goes?” I offer.
The lightest, vaguest hint of a smile on his thin lips lights up
House’s worn-out features. He tells me, “Go and give him
antivirals. Also, make a test to find out if he has syphilis and
check his body for potential marks of a sting from a tick.”
don’t have to be told twice. I’m already worried about our cop
just fine—I’m aware this is going against House’s number two
rule here, the ‘don’t get attached to the patient’ rule. The
uttermost policy is ‘everybody lies’.
don’t find Derek in his room, so I have to go look for him. There
was a case a couple months ago where we had to play hide and seek
with the patient, and it was no fun for us; House was so livid, the
Team was nearly snagged for someone getting fired. As for now, I
couldn’t tell if my current frustration or my general worry for him
is stronger at the moment—I know that if another blackout occurs, I
would have to be there immediately. Besides, anything could happen to
him while the time’s ticking by with me just searching for him
everywhere frantically, even without him fainting.
it doesn’t take me more than a few minutes to find him—sitting on
a couch next to the artificial waterfall, a woman on his side, the
two of them holding hands. She’s wearing a black skirt suit with
matching high-heels, her dark hair put in a neat ballerina bun,
giving her a professional appearance. For some reason, it makes me
feel utterly small, like she reminds me of the fact that I could
never be like her; so strong, so attractive, so stylish. No, I’m
just here in my jeans, my flat shoes and a casual shirt, all this
adorned by my white labcoat and the ponytail I put my hair in this
morning. I guess the clichéd roles—the queen bee and the nerd—will
stick to the people for their entire lives. Inhaling deeply, I force
a smile on my face before taking off towards them, but a part of
Derek’s sentence is enough to stop me in my tracks.
afraid I’ll lose my job,” comes his quiet voice. The woman
strokes his upper arm soothingly, then settles her hand on his
shoulder and gives it an encouraging squeeze. Her other hand is still
resting in her lap, palm facing up, welcoming Derek’s in it to
provide him silent comfort.
sure it’s nothing serious,” she assures softly. Contrary to what
it does to Derek—calming him down and giving him hope—it
unsettles me to no end. I’m just about to inform him about the very
illness that could explain his condition, and now this burden feels
even more unbearable than before. “You’ll be just fine. I’m
sure in two days you’re going to be chasing criminals again.” No
one should be punished with having to tell someone their life is in
jeopardy, or how long they have before their disease takes over. No
one signs up for shattering dreams, but for healing and saving
lives—saving their dreams. My body feels like a cage to me, from
which I can’t escape before I’m done with my duty. With the lump
huger in my throat, I force my legs to take me to where they are
Hale,” I greet him. My voice comes out as a squeak, despite how
hard I’m trying to prevent that. But seeing how his face lights up
with the hope the woman gave him? It makes me want to cry, because I
know I can’t live up to those expectations.
Lockwood,” he nods to me, then motions towards the elegant woman on
his side. “This is my elder sister, Laura.” I shake hands with
her, but the smile I give her is tight, and I’m sure she noticed
it, because her brow twitches shallowly. The grip Laura gives is
firm, giving it away to me that she’s a determined person who knows
what she wants, and isn’t afraid to go for it.
you figure out anything?” she asks, taking her hand back. I’m
taken aback by that question—usually, people start with something
like, ‘he’s alright, right?’. Clearly she craves effectiveness
and results, not beating around the bush. I have to swallow against
the dryness in my mouth before I could speak.
I answer. The siblings’ attention is availably doubled at that, and
my heart twists painfully in my chest, knowing that what I’m about
to say is not what they are expecting to be told. This is why, I give
them a meek warning beforehand, “But you won’t be happy with the
results.” My voice is ginger, but tight. Even without my eyes
dropping lower than their eyes, I can clearly catch the way Laura’s
hand closes tighter around Derek’s. I struggle to go on, “According
to the lumbar puncture, Mr. Hale’s leukocyte and protein number is
higher than normal.”
does that mean?” Laura asks instead of Derek, tone calm and
measured, but I can sense the underlying vibrating anxiousness. As
soon as the words left my mouth, Derek tilted his head forward to
look at the ground instead of me, like he can’t bear seeing me. It
feels like a punch to the gut. I close my eyes apologetically for a
moment, then explain hoarsely, “It means that Mr. Hale has
is the point where Laura loses her perfect mask of the sophisticated
woman she normally shows to the world—it perishes silently, in the
form of a fat teardrop escaping from her eye and rolling down her
cheek. On the other hand, Derek handles it exactly how a strong man
would do; he even has the capacity to wrap an arm around Laura and
pull her close to him to comfort her, even though it should be the
other way around. Laura, though, refuses it for being too proud,
already wiping away the stray drop from her face, like it’s never
made it there. Derek’s face is expressionless, and the fact he
isn’t looking at me anymore stabs me in the chest. His green gaze
is fixed on Laura, and nothing else.
decide to leave them, assuming it’s the best thing I could do, but
only after muttering an apology, despite I know this isn’t my
fault. I shouldn’t let it get to me, and lately I’ve been getting
better at it, but this single occasion ruined all my past successes.
I go for the medicine I have to give Derek, then to his room to find
a nurse undoing the covers on Derek’s bed.
what are you doing?” I ask, putting the antiviral on the nightstand
beside the bed. She turns to look at me with a smile.
his covers, if it wasn’t obvious already,” she quips. I can’t
force a grin even for a second after what happened between me and the
Hale siblings. Erica doesn’t fail to notice my unease, and she
inquires, brows furrowing, “Is something wrong?” Setting down the
blanket that’s halfway to being freed, she comes up to me, touching
my upper arm gently.
nothing,” I lie, asking the first thing that comes to my mind just
to change the subject as soon as possible. “Why are you changing
those?” I nod in the general direction of the mess Erica has made.
She sighs and goes back to resume her work.
been going a lot to the toilet. Last time he couldn’t make it
there, though, so his vomit ended up on the bed,” she replies,
grimacing at the story she shared with me. Clearly the stink is
acknowledge her answer with a nod, then I sit down at the bed, now
lacking the sheets, to wait for Derek to return, regardless of the
aversion I have for that.
o O o .
the end, it takes Derek almost an hour to migrate back and to take
his place at his now clear, freshly covered bed. He halts at the door
upon noticing me, and just watches me with an expressionless stare.
The stretching silence is deafening me, especially with the glass
walls shutting out every noise, but this time I can’t bring myself
to break it. Instead, I opt to do my job to give myself something
else to focus on; I place the plastic pocket of antiviral on the hook
above the bed and, after Derek laid down, I inject the other end in
his vein. To my surprise and relief, he speaks up.
bad is my sickness?” I look at him. Derek’s gaze is darted firmly
at the ceiling, not at me, making it clear to me he’s still
uncomfortable with seeing me. It stings, but at least he’s now
talking—I should appreciate all the small victories. His face is
still devoid of emotions.
have to figure that out with an MRI later, but right now, the
priority is to find out what caused the illness in the first place.”
acknowledges my answer with a nod, then closes his eyes—I get the
message loud and clear; he’s telling me without words to leave him
alone now. I don’t have a reason to protest, so I consent.
o O o .
arrive to the restaurant twenty minutes late. Rushing in, I scan the
place, searching for my dinner partners. I spot them in one of the
hidden corners, at a dimply lit box with a table and four chairs
around it. I stride over to them with a wide grin, greeting them and
taking my coat off to lay it on the back of the chair.
y/n, long time no see.”
I nod, hugging him briefly before wrapping Allison up in my embrace,
too. “Sorry for being late,” I say genuinely, sitting down. “My
boss likes to give his Team all the work.”
know; everyone knows House’s reputation,” Scott waves it off with
are you?” I ask then, turning to Allison. She beams at me with a
baby’s due on 14th
February,” she announces giddily. “I’m perfectly fine, and so
is my baby boy. Only two more months to go,” she drops her eyes at
her extended belly, reaching up to rub it fondly, delicately. I
he’s going to be a Valentine’s boy, huh. How do you know if the
baby’s going to be a boy, though? You had it checked?” I ask.
don’t exactly know.
Allison doesn’t want to check it, wants to wait until he’s born,
but she’s convinced he’s a boy,” Scott explains.
cute,” I coo. A waiter comes to me to take my order, and after the
brief chat I have with him, I devote my attention to my friends
how’s your internship at Princeton?” Allison asks. I shrug;
honestly I really don’t wish to talk about that right now—I’d
just ruin the mood with it, and that’s the last thing I want. I
give them a subtle hint, “I don’t think that’s a fitting
subject at the moment.” Scott winces and gives me a worried look.
something happen?” I shake my head no, and pick up my napkin to
busy myself with something—also to give myself an excuse not to
have to look into either of their eyes.
I respond a little too late for the other two to believe it. Not that
the timing would have mattered anyway; they know me all too well
since high school.
us about it,” Allison urges.
really don’t think this is the appropriate time to –”
don’t expect me to leave my other best
tonight without talking this over with her,” Scott demands, a
serious gleam in his deep, chestnut brown eyes. “Your face gives
you away easily, you know, and I can see it’s something that deeply
yeah, how Stiles and Lydia are doing?” I ask, desperately trying to
lead the conversation in another direction, shamelessly taking the
chance to talk about the other best friend Scott has without a second
thought. While Scott is already opening his mouth to tell me about
the other couple, Allison cuts in with a sharp, “y/n”.
okay, got it,” I cry out, throwing my hands up in surrender. “So
we have a new case since yesterday, and after testing the patient, it
turned out he has encephalitis. And
he’s a cop.” I take a deep breath before going on, “I had to
tell him while his elder sister was there, too.”
baby,” Allison coos, reaching over the table to stroke my hand
soothingly. I’m not surprised by her being so touchy-feely, nor the
nickname she addressed me by—I blame it on the raging hormones in
her body; thanks to them, she’s way more sensitive to emotional
distress than an ordinary person, who isn’t carrying a blooming
life under their heart. I manage to smile at her, albeit it doesn’t
quite reach my eyes.
staying here in New Jersey until the baby’s born,” Scott chimes
in to whisk the tension away, and the news don’t fail to light up
I ask, eyes excitedly commuting between the future parents, who just
nod at the same time to me with a smile on their faces.
And I’m going to attend controls at Princeton-Plainsboro,”
Allison says proudly.
my God,” I chuckle, leaning back on the chair to rest against the
back of it. “Give me a call whenever you’re there.”
she promises. Scott places his hand on her belly to stroke it
affectionately. I have never seen such an expression on Scott’s
face before—it’s a mixture of responsibility-consciousness,
fatherly protection, undying love and slight possessiveness. But
above all, it’s meek.
Rewatching ‘House’ and I’m falling back into my year 11/12 feels. I just want House/Chase stuff because of the age difference and I love fictional relationships where one half is abnormally pretty and the other half is grumpy and old but also awesome and people don’t understand the relationship but it works anyway because LOVE.
I don’t understand how this show manages to do this to me.
house/chase and jd/cox are really similar if you think about it
d u d e
little cutie doctor with verbally abusive mentor
like each other more than they’re willing to admit
protege wants to grow up to be just like their mentor - chase ended up almost exactly like house until house was like “YOU DON’T WANNA BE LIKE ME I DON’T WANT YOU TO BE ALONE AND MISERABLE DON’T DO THIS” so chase instead became a better version of house. and jd himself admitted that he wanted to be just like doctor cox, only more successful and more put-together.
A/N: This is ‘hot off the press’ with very little editing. I’m kinda proud of it, so I hope you enjoy!
You sat in the cafeteria at the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, eating lunch with Dr. James Wilson. He was talking about something….his office? No, House? No, wait, something about a college friend? Whatever it was, you’d both stopped paying attention, and forgotten what it was. Normally you’d listen attentively, as the man was your friend, and mentor of sorts. You shared an office, and he was the one to show you the ropes when you arrived a few months previously. That day, however, you were very distracted. Why? Well, because of a certain blond Australian.
You didn’t know Dr. Chase that well, the two of you only occasionally crossing paths at hospital events, in the halls, or in consults. You were merely acquaintances really. You hadn’t ever spoken for more than ten minutes.
Why was he so distracting, one might ask, seeing as you didn’t really know each other. Well, a few days before, Cameron, aided by a few glasses of wine (something you learned back at the Mayo Clinic would always make her talk) told you he’d been asking about you. Well, curiosity killed the cat, and was slowly wasting you away.