#foreman is so special to me

[atomicradiogirl]

i have completed the foreman rewatch™️ and now it is time to grace you all with my meta analysis of foreman.

foreman is such an interesting character. i guess i should start with the central themes that follow him: choice, family, and risk.

foreman has many points throughout the show where his choices in life are brought up. choosing to go to college and become a doctor over following his brother’s route and going to jail, choosing to work for house instead of someone else, choosing to do a treatment on a patient that will hurt them but will save them. foreman is the character that makes the “right choices” for the greater good, to improve himself. this is a front, however, for his imposter syndrome. growing up poor, black, and with a criminal record it seems that imposter syndrome was unavoidable for foreman since he’d be surrounded by people richer than him who’ve had easier lives than him in college. he’d always feel like he’d never belong and this continues at PPTH where he’s jabbed by house as his “affirmative action hire” and was pinned as the “break in man” meanwhile he is just as smart and considerably more successful than house and his peers. foreman is someone who is afraid of being told he doesn’t belong, that he’ll never make it, meanwhile he has made it and they never told him he wasn’t good enough. “some part of me i can’t get rid of always thinks if i’m not the smartest, if i’m not the first everywhere i go they’ll figure out i’m not supposed to be here. they’ll send me back.” foreman is also afraid of becoming like house, unfeeling, uncaring, and there are moments when he acts almost exactly like house. he makes sarcastic remarks, he puts patient’s pain on the line to save them, he was fired from his other job after quitting his job at PPTH in season 3 for acting too much like house, nearly killing a patient to get the right diagnosis. house tells foreman that he’s always been like him but foreman is in denial. foreman’s choices betray this though. when foreman kills a patient accidentally by destroying her immune system with radiation so that she couldn’t fight off a staph infection, house was wrong and foreman was wrong. both of them are distraught but foreman is the hardest hit over his choice and guilt. he sits with the patient so she doesn’t die alone. despite foreman’s biases against patients who use drugs or are homeless, he cares and stays with them in the end, holding their hands. house never does this. this growth and choice is always reserved for a foreman centric plot line.

foreman’s second central theme is family. specifically related to brothers. this is usually tied in with wilson who also has a complicated and guilt ridden estranged relationship with his brother. in histories, wilson and foreman are connected through homelessness where wilson’s brother was presumed to be homeless while foreman simply had a bias against them while growing up around them. the episode starts out with them bickering over the patient, wilson being defensive of the patient while foreman wants to send her home. in the end it’s foreman that cares the most and doesn’t want her to die alone. in family, two brothers are sick. one of them is dying of cancer and the other has an unexplained illness but to save his brother he has to be cured to donate his bone marrow. foreman puts it upon himself to put the older brother through a painful procedure to cure him and allow him to donate the bone marrow. foreman is scared that he acted like house to save the brothers and quits shortly after. foreman’s older brother, marcus, who took a different path leading him to several stints in jail for drug use, is the instigator for this. foreman is usually given brother patients so he can insert himself into their shoes. an older brother patient unknowingly harming his younger brother is a common trope that follows foreman. this might be a manifestation of foreman’s relationship with his brother, marcus being older than foreman might have pushed him to commit crimes with him. this is what estranges foreman from him, however when marcus gets on parole they mend their relationship and foreman still loves him even though their relationship was strained. foreman is seen to be very close with his mother although there aren’t many patient plot lines to expand on this. he says that the only time he felt at home was when his mother hugged him and he seeks her comfort after killing a patient but she doesn’t remember him due to her alzheimer’s. foreman keeps her later death from house and the team, choosing to repress it. foreman’s relationship with his father, rodney, is brought up a lot especially in euphoria but this really only considers foreman’s relationship with religion and isn’t mentioned much in the rest of the show. house and rodney seem to have a cordial relationship however and house probably sees him as a more caring version of his own father.

foreman’s last central theme is risk. he is one of the riskiest diagnosticians next to house and chase, putting his foot forward to argue with house and go against him. foreman makes mistakes because of these risks but more often than not it helps the patient and the case. foreman doesn’t want to become house although this is the trait that makes him most like house. foreman’s risk taking is what gets him sick in euphoria and is what gets him to lose most of the close relationships in his life, especially thirteen. like house, this could have been foreman’s professional and personal downfall but foreman never chases unhealthy coping mechanisms like drugs or sex and is one of the most stable diagnosticians. foreman’s risk taking is what gives him the dean of medicine job and allows him to move further up the ladder while house’s risk taking and impulsivity is what crashes it down. coupled with foreman’s imposter syndrome, his risk taking is more calculated and purposeful and foreman cares the most about the risks he takes. while chase sees house as a father figure, it’s house that sees foreman as an extension of himself. caring about his development the most and devolving into desperation when foreman gets sick, playing it safe and worrying about him. chase and foreman being the only ones left in the end of the show are the only extensions of house left.

foreman is one of the best characters of house and his themes and arcs have some of the greatest acting and writing moments of the show. we heart foreman.

need to rewatch house md solely in a foreman lens you don’t understand i need to get inside his brain

[smaeemo]

No sleep, just 2 cans of monster, stained purple hands, and a consecutive 10 hours of House MD

[corporalsnark]

if Kal Penn hadn't gone to work for the Obama administration I think Kutner and Taub might have had an extremely strange queerbait-y relationship

[blue-boulder]

house md in 2020s headcanons

keep seeing people make these and i thought it was silly, so here’s my contributions:

- house finds wilson’s account on grindr and decides to catfish him. once the jig is up they silently decide to never acknowledge this again

- comphet cameron. nonnegotiable

- foreman has and posts somewhat frequently on instagram threads. nobody finds out because nobody else has threads

- before working at princeton-plainsboro taub specialized in BBLs

- house livestreams DDXs to put more pressure on the ducklings when he feels as though they’re underperforming. he has a decent amount of followers on twitch

- also i’m not sure how hospitals ran during the pandemic but i think at least one DDX during covid was conducted through among us. don’t ask me the logistics of that

- a few of chase’s old musical.ly videos resurface and he gets bullied for it relentlessly

- thirteen was one of the first people to reblog the weed smoking girlfriends post

- house and wilson watch love is blind, the ultimatum, love island, etc etc when skipping clinic duty & place bets on which couples are going to last and which aren’t

- despite dating at the time cuddy went to see oppenheimer and lucas went to see the barbie movie. at the same time in different theatres

- house makes a joke about someone having blue hair and pronouns. also that one post about how he spends two hours researching every pronoun in existence just to use the wrong one on someone would be real

- wilson listens to either broadway soundtracks on his way to work or hozier, no in between. he uses spotify but refuses to look at his wrapped out of fear

[bullet-prooflove]

4500 Follower Celebration Bingo - The Vet: Rip Wheeler x Reader

Tagging: @readmetosleep @kierawashere01 @Hangmanscoming @1-fuzzy-squirrels @nerdypinupcrystal

Prequel to upcoming September piece Broken - Travis Wheatley

Thrill of the Chase (NSFW) - Rip has always loved the thrill of the chase.

 If You Want Me, You Can Have Me - They say that Rip Wheeler doesn't have a heart.

Stay Tonight - Rip asks to stay the night.

Use Your Words (NSFW) - Rip teases you.

Clover - Rip comforts you.

Rip’s at the Foreman’s House when he hears the gunshots echo over the pasture in the darkness. He’s just uncorked that bottle of that red you like from the winery in town because it’s been over a year since you stole this old cowboy’s heart and he wants to do something special to mark the occasion.

“I’m on my way.” You had promised him only a few minutes earlier when you’d called him. “I just need to check in Artemis.”

Gina’s horse had injured it’s leg during a barrel racing exercise a week ago and you’d been treating her since. Her cottage is less than a mile down the lane from Rip’s residence so he knows it won’t take long for you to arrive.

The instant he hears the two gunshots, something twists in his chest because they’re close, too fucking close. Both his home and Gina’s are on the Dutton’s land so he knows no one would dare go hunting in these fields. He tucks his own gun into the waistband of his jeans before he snatches up the keys to the truck and hurtles out the door.

Gina’s driveway is unusually busy when he pulls up outside her residence. There’s a black SUV he doesn’t recognise parked alongside the stables and your pickup blocks his path, the engine still running, the driver’s door thrown open.

Already he can hear the sounds of scuffle coming from the stable, shadows flicker against the warm illumination as a man curses and wood creaks.

“Touch that fucking horse and I will fucking kill you.” He hears you spit as he swings into the stables, his own gun drawn.

The scene before him is far from the one he expected.

Teal Beck is sagged against the door of Artemis’s stall, cradling his right arm close to his chest as blood jets from his badly broken nose. Dislocated shoulder, Rip assumes as Artemis paces her stall, tossing her head and grinding her teeth.

You’re standing with a Glock clasped in both your hands, finger on the trigger, weapon trained on Beck. There isn’t a single waver in you, your feet are spread apart, shoulders aligned just like they taught you when you signed up for a career in the Army as a miliary veterinarian. You’d done three tours before you resigned your commission and returned to Montana to take over your daddy’s practice.

“He was coming in here to kill the horse.” You tell Rip with a tone that could freeze the rivers of hell.

Of course, you’d go this crazy over a fucking horse. You leave and breathe for the animals under your care, every charge takes a tiny piece of your heart and you’d protect them with your life.

“You need to check on Gina.” You tell him, inclining your head slightly as you keep your eyes Teal. “Where there’s one Beck brother…”

There’s usually another.

Malcolm Beck’s been making his displeasure about his ex-wife known ever since that rodeo journalist had published the article about her come back. They’d all thought she was down and out after being kicked to the curb by him but now she’s back on the circuit, winning for the Yellowstone. She’s been spotted in the company of the rodeo king himself, Travis Wheatley.

It must have pushed every single one of that SOB’s buttons to see she was succeeding without him.

“Go.” You say again, this time more urgently. “I can take care of Teal, but Gina needs help.”

Rip’s already in motion, rushing from the stable as you keep the gun fixed on younger Beck brother.

“You better fucking hope he hasn’t laid a hand on her.” You say to Teal, your finger tightening on the trigger. “Otherwise you won’t live to see another sunrise.”

Teal smiles at you through bloody teeth.

“If that girl ain’t dead yet, she’s gonna wish she was by the time my brother’s finished with her.”

Love Rip? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[secondratefiction]

That 70's Show Drabble request: It's your and your twin brother Eric's 16th birthday, kitty and red usually remember but they forget yours this year, your boyfriend Hyde notices and gives you one of the best birthdays ever, including you two both having sex for the first time. Hyde also does a little cussing at red And kitty for forgetting their youngest daughter's special day.

'ello my love, always nice to see you around 😁

Afraid I might have gone a little off the brief for this one, but hopefully it still hits at least most of what you wanted 💜

(Ok, yes, timeline wise, Hyde was living with the Foreman's before he got the car, but this is basically the fandom versions of "...who's like is it anyway?" where the stories are made up and canon events don't matter, so... just roll with it)

You're blaming Eric for this.

He was the one who decided he didn't want to share a birthday party with you any more

Now, granted, you had agreed, mostly out of anger and annoyance with him in the moment - "Fine! Why would I want another stupid Star Wars themed party anyway!" - But you hadn't thought it would end up here...

The decision had been made after the disastrous aftermath of your last combined party, and it was something that had slipped your mind over the last year.

Of course in the month before, Eric was sure to bring it up, and remind your parents that you were doing separate celebrations... although, you weren't expecting exactly how that ended up working out.

Your mother had seemed to pull out all the stops for this year "Sixteen is such a special age after all..."

There were pancakes and all of Eric's favorites at breakfast... only Eric's though

And you tried not to let that get to you, but you didn't even get so much as a happy birthday out of any of them... not even your Dad which stung quite a bit considering that it was no secret that he had a tendency to favor you over Eric and even Lori.

But you sucked it up, put on a brave face, and tried to act like it wasn't a big deal... which you were actually pretty good at -

At least until you got sent down to the basement to collect a few things for your mom. That's when Hyde spotted you...

He sat up from the couch looking like he was struggling to wake up. Which, in all fairness, he was, "Hey, little Foreman." You rolled your eyes at him, leaning on the ack of the couch, "Did you sleep here again?" "Yeah." He nodded, leaning into kiss you. "You're gonna get caught..." He only smirked up at you with a shrug, "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

Standing up, he vaulted over the back of the couch to pull you into a proper kiss that honestly made you a little weak in the knees, leaning into him more as he pulled away, "Happy Birthday baby."

And just like that the damn broke...

You let out a strangled, broken laugh, quickly burying your face in his chest to try and hide the fact tears had immediately sprung up, and that you were losing the fight to keep them contained.

To say Hyde was caught off guard would be the under statement of the century. He almost panicked as he scrambled trying to figure out what was wrong, what he'd said to set you off.

All of this despite your poor attempts to assure him it was nothing. "Hey, no. Look at me," He pulled you back from him so you couldn't keep hiding, and waiting until you actually looked up to meet his eyes, "If you are this upset, it is not 'nothing'. Now, tell me what happened."

You tried to fight it, keep your mouth shut, but there was an intensity in his gaze that left no room for argument... he wasn't going to let this go until you told him, so you did, laying out all the events of the morning, "... I can't believe they fucking forgot my birthday."

For a moment Hyde's expression was unreadable and you had just started to ask what he was thinking when he grabbed you by your elbow and started walking you towards the door "Wait! Steven, what are you - I'm supposed to be grabbing a box for my mom." "Don't worry about it, I'll get it."

He walked you straight out of the garage, putting you in the Camino, still very confused before he turned around a disappeared back down the basement steps.

He grabbed the box you had indicated and made his way up to the kitchen. Smiling tightly and nodding in greeting when Kitty noticed him. "I didn't realize you were here Steven." "I just came by to pick up Y/N... plans for her birthday, you know."

He took the moment of realization and shock on her face as a chance to drop the box on the table and make a quick exit out the sliding glass door.

He was sliding into the driver's seat by the time Kitty could be heard shouting for Red inside the house, throwing his arm behind your head as he looked to back the car out of the drive

"Ok..." You said slowly as he turned around to put the car in drive, pulling away from your house, "So what are we doing?"

"Don't know yet, that's up to you," He said, smirking at you, letting his hand come to rest on your knee, "Tell me what you want to do, and I'll make it happen."

You couldn't help but laugh a little bit, almost beaming at him as you put your own hand over his, "Anything I want?" "Anything."

[glossglamour]

Full Robert Sean Leonard 'House'-a-palooza Interview: "As we know, I’m straight, but yeah, it’s like, homina homina homina."

May 01 2006 | By Maureen Ryan

Do you watch the show much?

"I can't watch it. I mean, Hugh doesn't watch it because he's anal and … eight years old. [laughs] And by the way, I don’t buy it, I think he does watch it.

“I watched in the first year. We live in New York and [my fiancé] was in California] and she likes it because I’m on it. But then she left, she had to come back to New York, and what are you going to do? The idea of me watching myself on TV, alone in Santa Monica, was just about... just short of, like, a bottle of Maker’s Mark and a shotgun away from shooting myself. [much laughter]  So I haven’t watched it all season. But when I have watched it, I’ve been mildly confused and Hugh is appropriately grumpy."

I have this theory that a lot of my favorite shows aren’t even about what they’re supposed to be about -- they have to be set in a hospital or police station or outer space or whatever because the network can market that, but they’re secretly not even about that. Like, “House” is really about ethics and morality.

“Yeah, sure, I think that’s true.”

But you can’t pitch that show to the network. “Hey, we have this great show that examines personal morality!"

“‘It’s based on “A View from the Bridge.”’

Right! They’re really going to for that.

“Yeah. [laughs] I think it’s good, and when it’s right, when the show works, the mystery works. It has a Sherlock Holmes-ian feel to it, and you do kind of want to know what’s wrong with [the patients]. And it is interesting, the turns and twists that get you there. And there’s always a little bit of character-driven fun stuff in between, of who these people are and how they affect each other. And that’s it at its best. And I guess that could be true of any show.

“It’s tricky, you’ve got a lead character [who’s different from the TV norm] and you’ve got to be careful because those characters can be one-note. He’s the cranky guy, he’s the Australian guy, I’m the friend in one or two scenes a week. You just have to be careful, and I think we are, we have a really great team of writers. And the numbers are building, people are watching.”

So this two-parter on May 2 and 3, I think the unofficial subtitle is the “Festival of Foreman.” I guess they’re his Emmy episodes, and that’s fine. But you’re hardly in them, what’s up with that?

“Honestly, I’m okay. I don’t want an Emmy. This is what I want -- I know exactly what I want. I did play with a guy named Skip Sudduth, ‘The Iceman Cometh,’ seven years ago. I saw him five years later, and I said, ‘Geez, Skip, where have you been? I don’t see you at readings anymore.’ He said, ‘I’ve been on “Third Watch.”’ It sounded familiar but I’d never seen it. He said, ‘I’ve been doing it for five years.’ I said, ‘Holy crap!’ And he was back doing theater. That’s my dream.

“And it’s happening. I walk down the street and people say, ‘Where are you?’ and I say, ‘I’m on this show called “House.”’ My friend Lewis Black [from 'The Daily Show'] said, ‘What is it called? “Head”?’

“I’m okay. I’ve never been happier than where my career is now. And I don’t want it to change necessarily. Money’s good, and I’m glad I’m getting that, and I’m putting it away for later in life when I do more Tom Stoppard plays at Lincoln Center and make no money. But really, I’m great. I don’t mind working two days a week.

“Because those other guys, the Scooby gang, or the Mod Squad -- they are at that studio for 16 hours a day saying ‘tachycardia, lupus, blablahdeblah.’ Honestly, I’d kill myself if  had to do those scenes for that long. I’m very happy with the size of my role, I don’t want it to get any bigger. I’m happy.”

So we won’t see the very special “House” episode where Dr. Wilson almost dies?

“That might be how I get off the show.” [laughs]

Well, you could die and come back as a ghost. Then it would be the “House Whisperer.”

“Yeah [laughs]. The hair makeup people were saying one day, ‘Oh, I love those scenes with you and Hugh, there should be more of that.’ And I’m like, ‘Shhh! Don’t say that!’ I’m the luckiest man in Hollywood. I work only with Hugh, pretty much, who’s great. And I work two days a week.”

Do you fly back and forth to New York then?

"No, not really. They don’t let me because they need me around, the schedule changes so much. I’m going to try to get away with that a little more [in the upcoming season]. Now that [my fiancé] is here, I really will kill myself if I’m out there as much as I was last year, without her.”

So five days a week you’re doing what – Botox injections? Going to the mall? Watching “Maury”?

“Rob Lowe once said the secret to being an actor in L.A. is sleeping as late as you possibly can and going to be as early as possible. I remember him saying, ‘I recommend pajamas by 4:30 p.m.’”

What’s interesting about this show is that they’re taken something that could be a very formulaic procedural and quite often turn it on its head.

“I didn’t know anything about TV, I’d never done [a TV show], but I now know very well that there are procedurals and character-driven shows. ‘Law & Order’ is a procedural and ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ is a character-driven show. The test [as to which category a show is in], someone once said to me, which I thought was hysterical, is this question: Did Sam Waterston sleep with [the assistant DA] on ‘Law & Order’? If the answer is ‘I don’t give a [hoot], I want to know the next element of the case,’ then it’s a procedural.

“Our show is weirdly, and there must be precedent for this, but it’s weirdly equally both. I think it’s very much a procedural, and without that sick patient every week, we wouldn’t work. And without the character stuff it wouldn’t work. And weirdly, people do care if House sleeps with one of our characters, and also care equally what’s wrong with this person and how they’re going to solve the case.”

I guess I like the character stuff better, but you’re right, it probably wouldn’t work without the suspense of the weekly case and somebody being critically ill.

“No, I think you need that. I think the echoes of Sherlock Holmes are too strong. The original idea of the show was House and Wilson, like Holmes and Watson. But it got away from that, and his team is Watson, if you want to be technical about it.

“I’m more like … the only way I’ve found to define it, and it’s so pretentious that it makes me want to jump out a window, is like King Lear’s fool. I’m like the only one who tells him the truth. And [Wilson] has nothing to lose. I don’t work for him and he doesn’t work for me. I’m the only character who chooses to be with him as opposed to being there because of a job. And because of that I have the freedom to tell him what I think. Not that Cuddy holds back much.”

I think her role is to say, "No! Bad House!"

“Have you talked to Lisa Edelstein [who plays Cuddy]? She’s so great. This Japanese woman once said to her, ‘You on “ER”!’ And she said, ‘I have been on “ER,” but now I’m on “House.”’ And [the woman says] ‘Oh yes, “House.” You say, “No, you don’t!”’ Every time we do the table read, I burst into laughter at some point, because there is the voice of that woman in my head, ‘You say “No, you don’t!”’ That’s the entire definition of Lisa’s character. Not completely, but we laugh [about it]. We have the same dilemma. We’re on this show that we’re … kind of on. Crew members say, ‘How long have you been on the show?’ ‘Uh, since the pilot.’ They really don’t know what we’re doing there.”

So in terms of the other stuff going on in your career, that’s going well, all the theater stuff?

“I’ve achieved everything I wanted to do. When I was growing up, I wanted to be Kevin Kline, Sam Waterston. I grew up watching the Public Theater and Shakespeare in the park and Marion Seldes. I mean, I may as well be gay.”

I’m not entirely sure you’re not.

[laughs] “But the thing is, I got it [i.e. his goals]. I’ve done 14 Broadway shows and got a Tony award, and now I’m making money and no one even really knows. I’m getting away with murder. If I come back to New York in two years and nothing’s changed, I’ll be thrilled. All I really want to do is [act in] plays, play with my dog, have kids. My desires are pretty simple. I don’t really want to do movies anymore. I’m pretty tired of camera acting.”

Why are you tired of camera acting? Is it the repetition of it?

“No, no, quite the opposite. We don’t rehearse enough. We do scenes where people barely know their lines, where people just about know their lines. In theater, you do it so many times and you get so familiar that then you can actually start having fun with it. And I really miss that feeling.

“It’s true of films too. I don’t know. I think I’m fine on film, but … I have walked offstage and thought, ‘Wow, no one has done that better. People may have done it as well, but not better.' I’ve actually had that feeling after ‘Long Day’s Journey Into Night,’ or a Shaw play or whatever. I’ve never felt that way with film. I always feel like, ‘Boy, Donald Sutherland would have done that a lot better.’ [laughs] I just don’t think it’s what I do best. I think I’m fine, but there are people who are eerily good at it. In all humility, of which I have none [laughs], that’s how I feel about my work on stage. I really do feel that I’m gifted at it.”

Just to change gears completely, what happens in the finale?

“Well, I think the finale is a bit of a cliffhanger. Something very exciting happens. It’s extremely exciting and freaky and I think it’s great. I can’t say what it is. You end this season very curious about how the next season is going to start. It’s a great final show and a big cliffhanger.”

So it seems like Hugh Laurie is so disparaging of his own talents. But he’s so good as House.

“Some people ask me, ‘Oh, why does Wilson want to hang out with House so much?’ and I’m like, ‘You idiot.’ [laughs] House is designed to be attractive! He’s brilliant, he’s self-deprecating, he has a limp. But yeah, Hugh hates himself and he’s very funny about it.  There’s no better combination in my book. Like Lewis Black.”

But as an acting partner, he’s good to work with?

“Oh yeah. The thing is, with this part, Hugh has a huge obstacle he has to deal with, having an American accent. His problem isn’t our problem. We as the audience don’t have that problem, because what he doesn’t know is that he does it perfectly. But of course he doesn’t hear that. That’s why he can’t watch the show.

“When you’re doing an accent, you don’t feel like you’re interesting in the role. Even if everyone around is telling you that you are. And to be in a play is one thing, but to be on TV show that runs for years, I don’t know how he’s going to do it. To be that hard on yourself and be that disappointed in your own work. But as I said, and underline this four times, he’s wrong.”

And then he obviously hates when anyone calls him a sex symbol. You read his quotes when people ask him about that stuff and you can feel the embarrassment rising off the page.

“Yeah, he hates that stuff. And even more than the ‘sexy’ stuff, he hates the ‘you’re brilliant’ stuff. Of course there’s a part of him that likes him, there’s a part of all of us that likes that. [But him being hard on his performance], it’s not false vanity.

“I think Hugh does work he’s proud of and does work he thinks is good, I’m just not sure it’ll ever be this [show]. Having an accent… acting is letting go and forgetting yourself, it’s the opposite of ego. It’s flying away and getting away from yourself and forgetting. And when you’re doing an accent, it’s virtually impossible to do that.

“It’s hard when you're in a play, doing the same lines, the same way for eight months. Hugh learns 72 new lines a day and has to put an American accent on them. It really is an actor’s nightmare. I’ve done [with accents] Brian Friel plays, Martin Sherman plays, Tom Stoppard plays, and maybe five months into it you have a night where you kind of feel OK and kind of forget the accent and let go and let the scene happen. To have a strange accent in your mouth while playing a role, and then be judged for it, that’s hard stuff.

“And can I tell you, when you have dinner with Hugh Laurie [speaking in his real accent]… I miss that voice.”

Yeah. He called me once directly for an interview. I was expecting the publicist to put him through, but it was just that voice on the phone. I was sort of thrown for a minute.

“As we know, I’m straight, but yeah, it’s like, homina homina homina.” [laughs]

---- [source (part 2)] | part 1 | part 3 ---

it took me two hours to track this interview down. it might be the longest one he's ever done. first i tracked it down to tumblr pages posting about it with no source please stop doing that. then i found a short youtube video of laurie saying "homina homina" on an snl skit i think and someone in the comments mentioned the site where the rsl interview was posted. however the site wouldn't let me in, i guess they took it down so i headed to archive dot org. i didn't have a specific link though so that didn't really work out either. then for nearly an hour i tried a wide range of word combinations on google until i stumbled upon a livejournal page of rpf hugh laurie/rsl fanfic. SOMEONE tysm karaokegal posted the exact link i was looking for in the comments. quick trip to the wayback machine and here you go!

i should be on those ethical hacking competition things

[hareofhrair]

While I'm yelling about House MD--

I see in the notes of my House posts sometimes people being like "ooh, maybe I should watch that" and I always kind of wince and want to grab them like, yeah, please do, but also watch out. There's a reason we call it hate crimes md, and it's not just because of the queerbaiting.

So the thing about House is... It began airing in 2004. The 2000's were, for those of you who missed them, an... interesting time for what was then still called "political correctness." And these times were heralded by a certain Type of Guy, with a certain type of Edgy Humor. In pushing back against the admittedly very white liberal language policing of the PC movement, his goal was to be as offensive as possible, to every demographic possible. For those that had thought it through enough to justify this behavior, the claim was an intent to shake things up and force people to confront their unspoken biases and have hard conversations. The catch phrase was "I'm not racist, I hate everybody equally." These were your Jeff Dunhams, your Dane Cooks...

(For my part, I think it was, at it's heart, white guys attempting to parrot the marginalized groups demanding radical acceptance? A gay person saying "yeah I'm a faggot, what's it to you?" A disabled person saying "yeah I'm crippled, fight me about it. Call me a person with special needs again and I'll break your kneecaps with my cane." They picked up on the "we'd rather be called a slur than this avoidant, self righteous, language policing bullshit" and came away with "so I should call everyone slurs, got it.")

Enter House MD.

The tagline of the show is "Everybody Lies," and it's a very consistent theme throughout. The thesis of the show is that our society, with its shame and repression and bias, is incapable of real honesty. And approaching problems with soft, non confrontational language that talks around the issue instead of dealing with it only makes this worse.

So naturally, House is one of Those Guys.

I doubt there is a single episode in which he does not at some point, say a slur. When Foreman (the only black character and, until Kutner and Park, the only non white major character) is in the same scene with House, you can be absolutely certain he is going to say something racist, while staring at Foreman with a shit eating grin, daring him to make a fuss about it so he can monologue about how Affirmative Action is actually condescending to black people.

It would be one thing if this were strictly a character choice, something that was specifically wrong with House the person. Unfortunately, even when House is not involved the show itself is still, just, blindingly racist, all the time. Any time the patient isn't white, it's a horror show. Racist caricatures as far as the eye can see. It's also intermittently sexist, intersexist, nauseatingly fatphobic, and while it generally does better with disability than most any other show of the time, it is still shockingly ableist at times given the main character is, himself, physically disabled, and implied to be autistic as well.

What makes it worse is that they set House up as someone who wants to deflate people's egos and make them confront their biases ect, and then almost never puts him in a position where he's punching up. There's even a specific episode where he's treating a conservative campaign manager who released an insanely racist anti-migrant political ad, and his racism just doesn't get brought up. The ugly truth about himself he's forced to confront is that he's gay, and the man he's in love with and the people he surrounds himself with are, well. Conservatives.

All of this is not to say you shouldn't watch House or that House is a bad show. It's just very much a show from a very specific and unfortunate moment in the recent history of the ongoing battle for equality. The worst part is, its heart is in the right place, it is just doing a real bad job. It wants to be progressive. It just thinks being polite and respectful is weak and lame.

On that note! The show also features a canonically bisexual woman who actually says the word bisexual-- fucking wild for the time, where the best you generally got was vague allusions to "swinging both ways."-- And it shows her in relationships with both women and men. Including, very notably, Foreman. And if I need to tell you how revolutionary it was for them to show a romantic relationship between a black man and a white woman in the 2010's, take a minute and think about how many relationships like that you've seen in TV or movies since then. Or ever.

It centers on a nuanced and compassionate portrayal of an addict, and tackles the realities of that in an incredibly honest way I don't think I've seen anywhere else. Just the simple, consistent reminders that both House and the other addicts featured on the show are using for a reason, and it's often because they have medical needs that have been neglected by bigoted doctors. There's a whole arc where they try to restrict House's use of painkillers by reducing his prescribed dose to basically a handful of ibuprofen, claiming he only thinks he needs such a high dose because he's addicted and he'll "adjust" to a lower dose in time-- IE, get used to just living with the extreme pain. Unsurprisingly, the increased pain makes him awful to be around, worse at his job, and eventually drives him further into addiction. The way the show deals with this is honestly fantastic, especially given, again, this was the 2000's and 2010's. For a somewhat contemporary comparison, take a look at how addicts are portrayed in Breaking Bad, which came out four years after House in 2008. The general attitude towards addicts was not great.

This show has a lot going for it. The relationships and the stories it tells are honestly incredible. But it is also very flawed, and people should be aware of that going in.

If you want to start watching House, awesome! But maybe look up trigger warnings first.

(Also, completely aside from All That^ there's also the genre typical medical gore and body horror, so, you know, also be prepared for that!)

[gegewrites]

James Wilson- make her mine(smut)

Requested by- @flowercrowns-goodvibes

(I hope I did your request (some what) justice)

Words- 5.9k

(In my nature, it’s skim edited and in 4 months when I get a surge of Motivation I’ll edit it)

5/28/23

Wilson's pov-

There's a new doctor in the hospital, (y/n) (l/n), neurology and general surgery. she's been here a few months. I see her quite a bit around the hospital, never going to the same place though. I'm coming, she's going. Though we've spoken, I've bought her lunch a few times before but couldn't stay afterwards or she was still working during her lunch. we've had chats on the elevator, or at the coffee machine a few times. But still no longer then five minutes. Yet, I can't seem to get out of my damn head. She's plagued me. I can't even ignore her, I see her I have to say something. Playing this...slow game is getting too annoying. I gotta make her mine.

"You're dummer then you look if you think she wants you." House said, not looking away from the sudoku on his computer. I was sat in the chair in front of his glass desk, it was lunch, we already ate.

"Why wouldn't she want me? I'm nothing like you."  I remarked and he glanced at me before  turning his chair to face me fully,"here we go."

"Is she broken?" He asked and I shrugged my shoulders,"how much have you talked to her?"

"We've talked in passing, a couple elevator rides. I've even bought be her lunch before." I pointed at him and he rolled his eyes and turned back to his computer.

"You've boughten me lunch before, does that mean you wanna fuck me too?" He gave me a fake concerned look at I scoffed at him.

"I think if I wanted to I would've already." I joked, a chuckle tinting my voice,"but seriously, why wouldn't she like me?"

"If she's broken- like I'm sure she is, then she's gonna get bored of you like all the others after you start mending her back to health." He closed the tab on his computer, finishing the sheet, and turning back to me.

"What if she's not broken?" I pressed,"what if she's perfect?"

"Everyone's broken. You have brother trauma and you blame yourself for it all, and let's not forget the depression. Which will spike when you start to feel her becoming detached from you." He crossed his arms and glanced over at the conference room before groaning. I looked over and saw that chase and foreman were in there.

"Ya know what-" He cut me off.

"I've seen her at the pharmacy getting a prescription filled two times a month since she's been here. She broken trust me."

"this is a perfect time to end this conversation." I stood up from the chair and looked at my watch,"she's working the clinic right now."

"So now it's time to go creep around?"

"More like get my hours for the day in, be there to offer assistance if needed." He looked at me plainly before holding his face in his palm shaking his head.

"You are desperate." He finally looked back up at me.

"And now I'm leaving."

Your pov-

I signed Into the clinic and grabbed a folder from the stack on the desk and took a look inside. Kid has a fever, a rash on his chest. Easy enough.

"Hey (l/n)." I heard behind me to I looked over my shoulder and saw Dr.Wilson signing in.

"Hey Wilson." I smiled, holding the folder in one hand against my side,"how's that patient by the way?" The last time we were in an elevator together he told me about a patient of his, It sounded interesting so I wanted to catch up.

"I think we caught it just in time." He grabbed a folder from the Stack,"what did you get?"

"Kid has a fever and a rash, room three. You?"

"Four day headache." He answered,"room five."

"Then I guess I'll see you in a bit." I started walking away and he smiled and nodded.

He was charming. His presence was charming. It was a bit sad that I didn't see him all the time, I specialized in general surgery and neurology. You'd think we'd see each other more, neurology and oncology work close together in most cases, but that hasn't happened yet.

I opened the door to exam room three, and closed it behind me. A brunette mother was standing next to the bed, her seven year old son playing with a Gameboy.

"Hello I'm Dr.(l/n)." I greeted them as I opened the folder again, holding it in my left arm.

"Mary." She introduced her self.

"so..Conner here has a rash and a fever?"

"A hundred point two this morning, and it's On his chest." She looked down to him, and gently took the gameboy away from him and out in her purse which was over her shoulder,"he's had the rash for two days, the fever came this morning."

"Any history I should know about? Recent trav-"

"No nothing like that. He just got this rash the other day, sore throat." I nodded walking past her. I put the folder down on the counter and grabbed a pair of gloves, starting with my right hand.

"I see you like Mario?" I looked at Conner and he nodded with a smile. I put on the left,"so how are you feeling?"

"My throat hurts." His voice was a little scratchy. I grabbed a popsicle stick from the drawer, taking off the paper wrap and putting it in the counter.

"I'm gonna check your throat alright? Open wide and stick your tongue out." I grabbed a mini flashlight from my pocket, placing the popsicle stick down on his tongue and shining the light,"have you looked at his throat?"

"It was red the other day." Mom said waling around to look. His tonsils had some white around and in them,"oh god."

"Mm." I hummed, taking the stick away and placing it on the paper wrap, putting the light back in my pocket,"can you lift your shirt for me so I can see this rash?"

He lifted it and I saw mini hives on his chest, a few bumps spreading onto his lower neck.

"Those hives showed up today."I gave her a nod, motioning for Conner to put his shirt down.

"We'll run some tests. It's  most likely a strep. There a breakout at school?" I picked up the popsicle stick and paper, pressing my door down on the lever of the trash can and dropped it In. The lid closed with a metal thud.

"Not that I'm aware of."   Gave her a nod and heard the door open.  So I looked over, Wilson in the door.

"I need you to take a look at this patient."  He said.

"Excuse me," I pulled the blue gloves off and threw them in the trash,"I'm gonna have a nurse  come and do your strep test, and I'll be back when that's ready."

"And if it strep?" This is definitely her first child.

"Then I'll prescribe Conner  some antibiotics and a lidocaine throat gargle for his throat."  Wilson walked out of the door and stood outside of exam five. I flagged down a nurse and told her what to do as Wilson handed me the blue folder for the patient.

I skimmed it through, his name was Mark, and it seemed like he was a healthy man. Participated in 2ks and 5ks regularly, works at the college teaching anthropology courses.

"Migraine." I said, noting the reason for coming here.

I kept it in hand as I pushed the door open.

The room had the blinds shut, the patient was laying down, his legs hanging off the exam bed, and arm rested on his head covering his eyes.

"Mr.Swan?" I asked gently as Wilson closed the door. He slowly sat up, as if trying to not make his head pound, which didn't work when he winced as he fully sat up,"bad one?"

"Yeah." He lightly chuckled and I handed the folder back to wilson.

"You're gonna hate me for a bit." I grabbed my flashlight from my pocket and held it up,"but I need to check your pupils. Wilson will you open the blinds?"

"This is gonna suck." Mr.Swan closed his eyes as Wilson twisted the blinds open, the room quickly lighting up with natural light.

He soon let his eyes open, blinking a few times. His eyes were a bit red, common with migraines. I clicked the flashlight on, snd gave him a look asking if he was ready, he nodded.

I shined it in his right eyes. The pupil retreated and i moved the light away before doing it again. Same response. I shun it in his left eyes. He had brown eyes so his pupils blended into the corneas in normal light. But, when I shun the light in his eyes, his pupil was dilated, and didn't react.

"Your left pupil is dilated and non reactive." I told him, dropping the flashlight into my pocket. I looked over at Wilson who was already looking at me, leaning against the counter, I looked back to Mr.swan,"have you been training hard lately?  Going through some stress?"

"No." He answered and I nodded, I looked over at Wilson, his arms crossed over his chest," get an MRI, a CT, and some extra strength Advil for while hes waiting. Bring me the scans when they're done, and focus on the left side."

"Of course."

Wilson's pov-

An hour later-

I walked down the Neuro hallway, walking to the conference room. I had the file with the  patients scans in my hand. I know after she left the patients room she picked up another patient and checked in on the kid with the strep when his test came back, but I asked one of her colleges when I left the clinic and they said she was up here. And she was.

She was sitting at the conference table, looking down at a blue folder, her left hand wrapped around a mug. No one else was in there, just her. It'd be easy to close the blinds around the glass walled office, push her up against the table-okay that's enough. 

I let out a  breath and walked up to the door and pushed it open. She looked up at me and then down to my hand.

"There's those scans." She out her mug down and reached for them, I handed her the file as I pulled the seat diagonal from her and sat down.

"Mri  had a bit of a waitlist." I said as she opened the file, I finally noticed how nice the baby blue color of her blouse looked one her, I didn't pay attention to it before. Probably because her coat is off.

"I heard some people complaining about it." She looked at the mri scans quickly before moving them to the side, and looking at the Ct scans,"it's definitely a migraine."

"But for four days?" I questioned as she stood up, grabbing the mri scans and the Ct.

She put them up on the light board against the wall. Standing with he hands on her hips, her weight shifted to her right side as she leaned on her leg. I just looked at her as she looked at the scans. Im actually working with her today. Fuck you, House.

"Did you look at these yet?" She looked back at me and I shook my head standing up, taking the clue to come look. She pointed to the CT scan,"a tumor."

"Didn't catch that in the MRI." I crossed my arms over my chest,"so it's pressing against the nerves, causing the headache."

"That thing needs to be out by...I say nine AM tomorrow, that's if it's not brain cancer." We looked at each other and back to the scan.

"I'll get him in to get it biopsied." I took note of the scent of her perfume. A sweet rose scent, and undertone of almond. Light enough to not bother you, yet strong enough to make you near addicted.

"Tonight?"

"Preferably within the next half hour, he's in room Forty two A if you wanna stop by." I said as I slowly back up to the door as she took the scans off the light board,"if I don't see you when he's done then ill come find you."

"Ill see you then Wilson." She smiled as She went back to her seat, putting the scans back in the file. I opened the door and took a left.

Your pov-

Twenty minutes later-

I pressed the down button for the elevator. The numbers quickly changed, coming up from floor two.  The door opened and immediately I saw Dr.House leaning against the back wall.I knew he had a thing about sharing elevators.

"This is perfect, we need to talk." I nodded and walked into the elevator quickly because the door was staring to close.

"This about Mark Swan?" I asked unsurely. Maybe Wilson told him about it. I looked at the buttons and the button to the second floor was already pressed, weird considering he just came from there. I leaned against the right wall.

"No, this is about Wilson." He leaned off the wall and walked to the front of the elevator, repeatedly pressing the door close button when it reached the second floor. My brows furrowed at the action and the elevator resumed going down.

"Okay?"  He leaned against the wall in front of me, his grip on his cane shifting.

"I haven't even talked to you since you've come here, yet everyday I hear about you." I gave him an even bigger look of confusion,"you have Wilson on a string and you don't even know it."

" we've barely even talked."

"The amount you two have is enough for him." The doors opened to the basement,"follow me."

"So Wilson's got a school girl crush on me?" I asked following behind him.

"Oh I wish." He shook his head and took a right going towards the labs,"prefer him blushing then obsessing."

"He's not obsessed." I denied and he stopped walking, turned around and looked at me like I was fucking dumb.

"He buys your lunch often, makes an effort to talk to you whenever he can but won't interrupt you, and all I hear is how much he wants you."  He looked at me for a second, and I took a breath, not realizing I was even holding my breath,"so for my sake...fuck him already."

"What?"

"Are you broken?" He randomly snd promptly asked. I didn't know what he meant,"never mind, surgeons are usually broken in some way."

I went to speak but he turned and walked away, again, so it felt useless to say anything.  I was kind of stunned. I enjoyed seeing Wilson when I did, I enjoyed talking to him, I appreciated that he buys my lunch like three times a week. I'd be lying to myself if I said I didn't feel something for him,

I spun on my heel and walked back towards the elevator, my mind running over what I just heard from House, starting to connect dots.

But broken? I couldn't understand that one.

Wilson's pov-

7pm-

I walked out onto the porch connect to my office, I came out cause I saw House leaning on  the wall next to mine, looking into my office.

"How's your case going?" He asked as the door closed behind me.

"Fine." I answered him,"hell get it removed tomorrow, he's jacked on meds to keep his pain down."

"Lucky fella." He sat on the edge of his wall,"how's the other thing going?"

"Also fine." I sat down on the edge of my wall like he did, my right foot acting as some stability. I was facing the hospital, my back to the scenery.

"No details?" He leaned back a bit but then leaned back In, his forearm sitting on his left thigh.

"So now you want details?" He gave me a slight shrugged and I rolled my eyes with a sigh,"I think we work well together."

"That's it?"

"Yes? What do you want me to say?" I slid off the wall, standing in both feet and looking at him,"that  She looks hot when looking at scans? That The shirt she's wearing fits in all the right spots and don't even get me started on how her ass looks in Her pants?"

"That's more like it," his grip on his cane tightened as he stood up,"I'll be back, don't move."

I watched him walk away as I put my hands on my hips. He walked into his office, and a minute later he came back out with a tan folder.

"She's definitely broken." He handed it over. It's was (y/n)s files.

Your pov-

I walked past diagnostics, seeing the light on in Houses Office. I didn't stop there, I turned down the short hall after it and stopped in front of Wilson's door. The blinds were closed so I Gave it a light knock before pulling it open and letting it close behind me.

"I thought you went home?" He put down what he was looking at to give me his immediate attention.

"No, not yet." I slid off my doctors coat and draped it over the back of the chair in front of his desk, the same one I took a seat in,"what are you doing?"

"Going over a patients medical history." He answered and closed the file,"seeing if they're on any medications or have taken anything. Just trying to find something."

"For Mr.swan?" I questioned and he shook his head, leaning back in his chair,"did you get a consult planned for him?"

"Tomorrow at 8am." I nodded, there was silence between us for a bit but I spoke again,"why'd it take you this long?"

"To do what?" The right corner of his lip curled in a slight smirk.

"To talk to me, get me on your case." I leaned towards the desk.

"I had to make sure it was the right time. You were working the clinic today, i had the same time free, it was perfect." He shrugged his shoulders."plus, I kinda got pushed to do it."

"House?" He raised his brow at me,"we talked in the elevator."

"Really?" He leaned forward, his forearms on the desk,"and what's he tell you?"

"Not much, just how much you talk about me." I stood up a bit to look at the record on his desk, and he didn't try to hide it,"he asked me if I was 'broken'."

"Well, you're not as broken as the others."  The file on his desk was my file. My medical history,"just antidepressants that you've been taking since seventeen."

"And don't forget the bi-weekly therapy." I reminded him.

"Which you haven't been to since you moved here." He noted,"noted that you promptly ended a session and told her you weren't coming back."

"That's how I remember it." I shrugged, for some reason I didn't feel violated that he looked at my records without my permission, and I desperately wanted to know where this was going.

"What made you do That?" He asked getting up from his chair, taking off his doctors coat and placing it on his chair and I leaned back in mine.

"My psych wanted to try a new medication, threw me into a spiral. I'm switched back to lexipro now, as I'm sure you know." Broken, this is what House meant by broken.

He leaned against the edge of his desk and nodded. I kept my eyes up at him, and he kept his eyes down on me.

"You asked me why it took me this long to get you on my case...but you never asked me to get on your case." He crossed his arms over his chest, flattening out the white button up snd his red tie.

"Wasn't really sure what the head of oncology does with his hours. Never was really sure how busy you were." I held my hands in my lap and he chuckled, his normal light chuckle.

"I've always got time for you." He answered,"the doors always open."

"I'm glad I know that now." I smiled, my head turning to look at the door to his offices porch, and then I looked back at him again,"wish I'd known it sooner, instead of eating lunch alone in Neuro, I could've been in here."

"At least now you know." His eyes still haven't left me, I knew there was something else he wanted, I coukd just feel it.

"I've heard stuff about you." He pushed uff the desk and walked over the couch, I turned s bit in the chair to look at him better when he sat down,"got a list of ex wives."

"Only three, they got bored. I have a tendency to go for people on the..unbalanced side do the scale." His eyes finally shifted to the window and back to me.

"So I'm on the unbalanced side?"

"Don't take it offensively, most people are. That includes me as well, believe it or not it's clinic depression." He admitted snd i nodded, taking in the information.

"People who struggle tend to grab onto others who struggle. Makes them feel better watching the other thrive, but then the healer they doesn't thrive." I explained and he nodded to every word, relating to it.

"All three marriages."

"What we're they missing?" I stood up from the chair and walked over the couch, sitting on the right side of him, angled into the corner to look at him better.

"I don't even know. I did my part I know that. People just get bored, they move on while being committed."

"Because you healed them."

"So what I'm getting is that I can't heal you, so that means that you're a top choice?" He twisted s bit to look at me better, his right arm resting on top of the head of the couch.

"I guess?"

"Because that what I see. A top choice." His eyes trailed down and back up my body in the last part. I felt my pulse being harder, more prominent in my neck and chest. All that from his look,"you're smart, you walk and talk with confidence. By what I've heard you don't second guess yourself, not in s risky way."

"Because I know what I'm doing, the one thing I don't know what I'm doing...is how I'm affecting you." He looked away from me, his eyes at his desk,"because House said that I should fuck you for his own sake."

"Did he really?" He looked back st me quickly and I nodded,"cats out of that bag now."

"What do you think about me?" I moved closer to him.

"You want the truth?" His brow cocked a bit and I nodded,"I can't help but imagine what you would look like bent over a desk or a table any time I see you at one. Your clothing always fits in the right spots, makes it hard to ignore you in the hallway, I simply can't, and after you leave my presence you're in my mind till I see you again."

"Do I keep you up at night?"

"You have no clue." His left hand sat on my thigh now, that's how close I was to him,"crazy dreams about you."

"Like what?" I wanted to pick his brain apart. He didn't answer, but he was seeing the dreams in his head,"tell me."

"How badly I wanna fuck a kid into you." If I was gonna have anyone's children, it might as well be his, and that sentence went right to my pussy.

"I'm not carrying a child without a ring and a marriage license." I marked and he nodded and quickly responded.

"I get easily get you one tomorrow."

"Make it six months, minimum." I took the chance to lean forward, and catch his lips to mine which he quickly reacted to. He held my thigh tighter, the hand that was on the head of the couch came to hold my jaw. I grabbed his tie, pulling him closer.

His lips were soft and near addictive, and he moved them with mine, his grip holding my jaw a bit harder along the edge of it by my ear.

I leaned back, taking him down to the couch with me his hand sliding up my thigh to my hip, his right knee in between my legs. His right leg and my left leg both off the couch. In seconds it was heated, our tongues clashing against each other languidly, I loosened his tie and started undoing the buttons to his white shirt. Taking my time, feeling each button, my brain obsessed with his lips and tongue at the moment. He pulled away from me, his lips a bit more red then before and he slid his tie off over his head, dropping it to the coffee table. I finished off with his last button and he slid it off, letting it hit the floor. He looked good with his clothes on, and he looks even better when they start to come off.

Wilson's pov-

A little bit later-

"Jesus."I sighed out,, my head resting on the head of the couch, my hand in (y/n)s hair, one holding into the arm of the couch  as she held my thighs. Her head bobbing up and down as she sucked my cock. Mouth of an absolute Angel, everything I thought it'd be. My top teeth bit down and dragged lightly over my bottom lip, letting it go as I exhaled. 

I looked at down at her, meeting her gorgeous (e/c) eyes looking up at me through her lashes. She still had her panties on, light blue like the shirt, lace trim on the upper and bottom hems. She looked gorgeous on her knees, the way her back arched slightly, and when's she's sitting up, not sucking my dick, her waist has the perfect curve to it, her thighs plush, and her breasts looked absolutely fantastic.

I felt my right lip rug up into a smirk, the tip of my tongue brushed under my top teeth and she closed her eyes. I let my head fall back as she took me deeper in her throat the next time she bobbed down, he tongue running flat along the underside of my cock and I felt it tenfold. My fist held her hair tighter, just holding. I'd be crazy to try and take over what she was doing. Her tongue slid up my base, swirling around my tip, and sliding back down my base, her lips still sucked around me.

I took a deep breath as my abs  tightened, I let out a groan and a "fuck" followed after it. I felt her hands slide down my thigh and leave once it reached my knee. She sucked harder, which i didn't know was possible, and she hummed around me.

"My god." My hips rose a bit , but not much, just a reaction from the deep breath I took. Her hand never returned to me so I opened my eyes and looked down at her. Her hand was inside her panties,rubbing her clit slowly, her hips rocking lightly.

I couldn't stop looking at her, feeling my cock Twitch against her tongue and the inside of her cheeks. My breathing became deeper and faster, my eyes closing on their own. I could feel the high in my head as my head fel back again. Her hand left my thigh and gripped the base of my cock, Pumping it as she focused on the upper half.

"Just like that." I groaned out, and with a few more pumps I was shooting into her mouth, she kept sucking and pumping, as groaned out her name, my hips bucking up slightly. My whole abdomen tightening as I came. She swallowed around me before popping off, her hand slowing  down to a stop shortly after. 

I left out a sharp sigh as my hand released her hair, I looked down at her again, her lips wet and puffy, her eyes glossed over, her cheeks blushed, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath.

"You are..fucking amazing." I chuckled out and she smiled, putting a hand on my thigh to help her stand up. I leaned forward to grab her hips to help stabilize her.

"And you have a good diet." She pointed out, I let my fingers hook into her panties, and I pulled them down her legs. She took over and then kicked them away to join the rest of our clothes on the floor. She stood up straight, looking down at me,"how do you want me Wilson?"

"Get on the couch." I could feel myself getting harder again as I stood up. She knelt down on the couch, her forearms on the head of it, sticking her out at me as she shifted to widen her legs.

I let my hands slide down her waist, along her hips, and she rested her left cheek on her forearm as she looked back at me. I took hold of my cock, stroking it from base to tip.

"Fuck me Wilson." Her voice was breathy and needy, sounding like a whisper but it wasn't. I took hold on her left thigh and pulled her closer to me, running my tip in between her wet folds savoring the feeling of it. Swiping it against her clit, gaining a whimper from her as she looked forward, as much as she could with the wall in front of her. I circled my tip around her soaked core, before sliding my tip in. I groaned and she let out a moan at the same time, she was tight. Just perfect though.

I slid in a bit more and she pushed back to me, so I pushed my full length into her. Her walls squeezing me as she pushed her chest into the couch. A shaky moan that came from her throat, but never left her mouth came from her. I held onto her waist as I slowly pulled back from her before pushing back in, feeling the resistance of her walls yet ease because of how wet she was.  Her forehead sat on the back of her hands, soft moans leaving her lips each time my tip came back to hit that soft spot in her.

"Please go faster." She breathed out, so I did. Suck my dick like that and I'm gonna do anything you say. I started building up a rhythm, pulling out to my tip and rocking my hips back in to her deeply, my hip bones pressing against her ass,"ohmygod."

"You feel so fucking good." I groaned out, leaning down press a kiss on her shoulder,"so good."

 

Your pov-

Wilson was pounding up into me, a hand holding onto my throat, to keep my shoulder blades against his chest, I was holding onto that's hands wrist, keeping him there. I reached behind me, my nails digging into his shoulder, his other hands rubbing my clit. My moans were uncontrollable due to how deep be fucking into me, his tip rubbing against my gspot without missing a beat. My head head felt dizzy as it fell against his shoulder, my abdomen muscles were tightening and loosening, nearly spasming. My thigh muscles twitching from the constant harsh attention to clit, setting my nerves on fire.   My walls fluttered around him, his groans filled my ear, along with the shirt praises he whispered to me. Small kisses under my ear and side of my neck.

"Gonna cum." I shuddered into him his hand leaving my neck to hold firmly onto my ribs, I didn't let go, my grip tightening around his bone. Electric spiked up my spine, my walls convulsing around him, and i felt his cock Twitch. Once. Then twice.

"Just a little bit longer."  So I waited, my brain focusing on how his fingers moved without stopping or faltering. How he held me closer to his chest.

"Wilson-"

"Let go." He said, and I did. Crumbling in his grasp as my orgasm broke through me, kept kept fucking into me. My cum coating his cock and the inside of my thighs. A "fuck me" came out of his mouth before he released into me, he kept pounding up into me, but his hand left my clit and held onto my waist.  My back was hot against his chest, my hairline dampened, my breathing fast, same as him. 

He slowed down, and I let go of his shoulder and wrist. he leaned forward and I grabbed the top of the couch, both his hands sitting on my hips, holding my lower half up as my upper half relaxed onto the couch.

"Holy fucking shit." I breathed out, my voice higher in pitch.

"Amen." He breathed out. Slowly pulling out of me, feeling his cum drip down the inside of my legs as he let my hips go. My lower half sitting down. I felt the couch dip next to me as he fell into the couch, a hand on my back rubbing up and down my spine. I took deep breaths and moved my head to rest my cheek on my hands and look at him for the first time in..I don't know how long it's been, all I can count it by was how that was the second time I came.

He had a blissed smirk on his face looking at me with awe.

"What time do you get out tomorrow? I could take you out for dinner." He offered I smiled.

"I get off at five." I answered and he nodded sharply.

"I'll make reservations in the morning." I moved to sit down properly on the couch, leaning against him as his arm wrapped over my shoulders.

We talked for a bit as we came down, before being interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Busy!" Wilson called out looking over at  the door.

"Sounds like it!"  It was house,"these walls are very thin by the way!"

"Noted House!" He yelled back, he waited a second for a response but it didn't come.

"Should be interesting for you tomorrow." I giggled and he shook his head.

"Never gonna hear the end of it, but at least i proved him wrong. He didn't think you had any interest in me."

"He should stick to medical diagnosis's, not social ones." I sat forward, his hand falling from my right shoulder,"I have to go, got a consult for a tumor removal at eight AM."

"At least-" I cut him off begire he could offer to clean me up. How charming.

"Clean up your couch, ill be fine." I picked up my blue panties as I stood up, slipping them into my legs and pulling them up.

"I can walk you to your car." He sat forward, I picked up his pants and boxers and handed them to him, his shirt was somewhere else in the room.

"How charming." I put my button up on the arm of the couch as I stood up with my pants starting to put them on,"you can walk me to elevator."

"Sounds great."

[incandescent-mushroom]

Foreman is so special to me because he has the biggest most beautiful brown eyes BUT he uses them primarily to stare at people judgmentally while telling them they don’t matter to him in the slightest and also that he doesn’t approve of how they’ve conducted their life and personality up to this point. just a deadpan weirdo who thinks he’s very normal

[atomicradiogirl]

i have completed the foreman rewatch™️ here are my episode ratings and the list if anyone wants to do this as well this was so fun and angsty 100% recommend

[patricia-taxxon]

the frostpunk board game takes a really weird approach to onboarding gamers into its super complicated ruleset. it has variable player roles, but the emphasis isn't on asymmetry, the player aids for each role *also* give you specific mechanics to pay attention to and specific upkeep & cleanup jobs around the table. like, the generator advisor is the one who throws the coal into the huge dice tower and the foreman advisor is the one who reads all the special event cards. this is supposed to make it so you don't have to learn all the rules before you can play, which seems cool, but there were only 2 of us for the 4 roles and at that point it was easier to just learn all the rules.

i haven't played frostpunk, the board game version seems fine so far but im very annoyed that the designers assumed i only had attention for a quarter of the ruleset and just didn't give me a general player aid separate from the bulky rulebook or the phase tracker for ants.

[octuscle]

My biggest dream was to backpacking in europe between the end of high school and the beginning of college. But I didn't do it. In a few days I'll celebrate my 50. birthday and my wife told me she has a special present for me realizing my dream from my youth and getting a young lover for herself when I'm back. Now I've this countdown on my phone from your corporation. What's going on?

You think it's a bit silly when you get on the plane. With hand luggage only. A large rucksack. Nothing else. Otherwise, when you get on the plane, you usually have a suit on and your laptop with you. Today? T-shirt and functional pants. Cell phone with extra powerful power bank. You feel dressed up. And you look really dressed up too.

When you wake up shortly before landing in Paris, you stroke your chin. Shit, you can't have grown that much beard between New York and here… Anyway, now you have to make your way to Gare de Lyon somehow. The TGV to Vezelay leaves in four hours. And from there, the first stage takes you along the Way of St. James to Strasbourg. With your little bit of school French, you'll manage quite well. In the metro, you look at your reflection in the window pane. You are a miserable tourist. An ageing man in ugly functional clothing. But the beard looks pretty cool…

When you finally arrive at Vezelay station, it's late. You are tired. You've booked a hotel room near the station for your first night in Europe. A bit of comfort. By the way, the Chronivac timer has expired. The display shows that the transformation is in progress.

The hotel is relatively elegant. You stand out at breakfast. Yes, you are freshly showered. But you could go to the hairdresser again. And although you've had a fresh shave, you've already got a shadow of a beard again.

Now it's getting serious. You're standing in front of the hotel. The rucksack on your back. You're already hot. And your first stage of the day is 25 kilometers. How much is that in miles? And why are you doing this to yourself…

The day is hell. You're sweating like a pig. Your feet hurt. You have a sunburn. On the one hand you're hungry, on the other you feel like puking. And when you arrive at your stage destination, you realize that you can't get accommodation without a reservation. As you pass a building site, the foreman asks you if you are looking for work. You reply that you need somewhere to sleep. He replies that that is not a problem. If you give him a hand, you will be given dinner and a place to sleep. You don't really feel like doing any more physical work. And you've always been a failure as a handyman. But somehow you know how to mix concrete and pour a foundation. And as you drink a beer in the evening sun at around 7:30 p.m. and talk to the other craftsmen, it feels very normal. One of the carpenters asks you if you're from the north of France. Because of your strange dialect. You look at him questioningly. And say that you're from Buffalo. He asks if that's near Lille. You have obviously arrived in France.

When you wake up the next morning in your bunk in the trailer, it's 05:30. You were expecting a hell of a muscle ache. But you feel like ripping out trees. You wash yourself briefly with ice-cold water in the rain barrel and then continue on your way. You've promised to help out for two more days before you move on.

Your wife mocked you when you said you wanted to take time out to do two months of work and travel in Europe. Sometimes you realize that she is simply much older than you. But shit, so is the French president's wife. And he should be about your age. 45 years old, as far as you know. Just four years older than you… Well, he's got further than you. But you look hotter than him. And the fresh air is obviously doing you good. Your wife is really suggestive when you facetime. You didn't even know she was into phone sex. But it's a nice change. Normally you tend to fuck colleagues on the building sites where you're helping out. It's more of a man's world. Something for real guys. And if you're anything, you're a real guy.

You've been on the road for six weeks when you finally arrive in Strasbourg. Shit, it's expensive here. Prices completely spoiled by tourists and European bureaucrats. Fortunately, you soon find a job here too. Not as a construction worker, though. But as a waiter in a bistro. And you can even sleep above the bistro. On the very first evening, you notice that very few guests spend the whole night here. A constant coming and going. And when you have to go to the toilet across the corridor, a not at all bad-looking guy in a stuffy suit asks you if you'd like to come up to his room for a moment. He slips you 50 euros. A hell of a lot of money for a blowjob or something. Should you feel cheap or like a hooker? Who are you kidding? Back home on the other side of the pond, you're the toyboy of an ancient lady. She's already 50 years old.

Strasbourg was awesome. But you only have three more weeks before you have to go back. The new semester at university starts. And your GILF is waiting for you back. She told you yesterday how much she misses you. You went out of your way to make her squeal with ecstasy at the end of the phone call. The PayPal payment arrived immediately. Together with the money you earned as a hustler and waiter in Strasbourg, you can now enjoy your last days to the full. You love the wind on your nipples. Maybe a hot trucker or something will pick you up as a hitchhiker. Tonight you should be in a place called Karlsruhe. Then it's not far to Frankfurt. And from there it's back to Buffalo. Someone there is eagerly awaiting her young lover.

[housethemd]

One Life For Another

(What if Amber had been the one to survive the bus crash instead of House? Snapshots of Wilson’s life after House. Wilson/Amber, eventual House/Wilson. Just read and you’ll understand.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where’s House?”

Amber asks, shortly after her eyes open. Wilson smooths back her hair, thinking she’s just confused, concussed.

“Shh, you were in a bus crash. You’ve been unconscious for nearly 24 hours. You’re going to be okay though.” He reassures her, kissing her forehead.

“Where’s House?” She repeats.

That’s how they find out House was in that crash too. He’d forgotten his wallet at the bar, so he’d been taken to Princeton General as a John Doe. That’s why Wilson only got the call about Amber.

When Wilson gets there, House only has a few hours left. The damage is too extensive. He’d need multiple organ transplants to save him, and he qualifies for none of them because of his addiction. Conceptually, Wilson knows that House would be unlikely to survive regardless.

Amber checks herself out of PPTH AMA, refusing not to be at her boyfriend's side. House is in and out of consciousness, the high doses of Morphine he’s being given make him drowsy.

It’s 3am when House wakes up for the last time. He’s surprisingly lucid, and Wilson knows what that means. He’s seen it time and time again in his patients. It’s like the universe grants them one last chance to say their goodbyes, to make their peace.

“Always knew I’d go first.” House’s voice is rough and quiet. Wilson has to lean in close to hear him.

“Me too, I didn’t think it would be quite so soon though.” Wilson laughs through his tears.

“On the contrary, I think I’ve lived longer than I was supposed to.” House says.

Wilson knows he’s talking about the infarction. He always knew House felt he should have died then, but Wilson always tried to reassure him that it obviously wasn’t his time, and besides, misanthropic bastards are supposed to live forever, aren’t they?

“Oh Greg.” Wilson is starting to shake as he fights the urge to break down.

“S’okay Jimmy.” He soothes.

“Cut throat bitch.” He addresses Amber now.

“Yeah House?” She’s wiping her own tears away, watching someone die is always hard, especially when it’s someone your loved one loves so much.

“Take care of Jimmy for me, okay?”

She finds she can only nod.

They all know it’s time. No one wants to say it, but they all know.

“I love you, Greg.” Wilson says, squeezing House’s hand and leaning close.

“Love you too, Jimmy. You’ve been the bestest friend a fucked up guy like could have asked for.”

Wilson can’t respond through the sobs. House’s eyes are glassy and unfocused. Wilson leans his face on House’s shoulder. His friend is dying.

“See ya, boy wonder.” The words are drawn out and slow, as House says them with his last breaths.

The monitors alarm as House flatlines. Amber rubs circles on Wilson’s back as he sobs loudly into his dead best friend's shoulder.

———————

Wilson gives the eulogy at House’s funeral. It's an open casket. House’s parents had his body dressed in a dark gray suit with a white shirt and a black tie. Wilson hates that they put House in a tie. House always hated ties. They should have put him in a blue shirt, not a white one. He always looked best in blue, it brought out his eyes. Not that you can see his eyes now.

He talks about how House was a healer, how many lives he’d saved that no one else could. How he cared about people, but only when no one was looking. How much he’ll miss, how much he misses him.

He sobs quietly as they lower the casket into the ground. He doesn’t want to make a scene, but if he’s leaning heavily on Foreman, no one says anything about it. Amber never lets go of his hand.

Blythe comes up to him and thanks him, “For being such a good friend to Greg.” He thanks her, tells her that her son was a very special man. He doesn’t know how to tell her that for everything he did for House, House did just as much for him.

——————

A year goes by.

Amber encourages James to talk about House. She knows how important that relationship was to him, and she never wants him to feel as though she’s forgotten. She doesn’t want him to think she expects him to forget.

They buy a house in the suburbs. It has three bedrooms, a large backyard, and a massive living room. It’s perfect for housing a baby grand piano. Despite the fact neither of them can play it, James keeps it.

He kept all of House’s instruments, they were all incredibly important to House and James couldn’t bear to see them go; there was so little that was truly important to House. But while the guitars get put away in cases and stored, James wants the piano displayed. After the movers had left, James just stared at it for a while. Eventually he said,

“He used to play for me when I’d ask. He was quite talented. It was… nice.” Before he went back to unpacking boxes.

Three months after they move into their home, they go out for a night on the town and James gets down on one knee. She says yes, but also says she won’t change her name. No way will she be the fourth Mrs. Wilson.

That night she wakes at 3:30am to an empty bed and the occasional sound of piano keys. She pulls on the shirt James discarded when they tumbled into bed before she creeps just far enough down the stairs to be able to hear him without being seen.

“I missed you a lot today. I asked Amber to marry me. She said yes, but she’s keeping her name. Thinks ‘Mrs. Wilson’ is cursed or something. I know you’d agree with her.”

There is the sound of piano keys being played randomly.

“It won’t be the same. Getting married without you there. I know it’s silly, I’ve done this three times before, but it’s a big day and I wish I could have my best friend by my side.”

Amber creeps back up the stairs. She’s happy James talks to House. She knows his therapist suggested it, and she’s glad to see he’s listening.

——————

Their wedding is small. They end up not doing wedding parties because James can’t bring himself to have anyone but House as his best man. Amber doesn’t mind. At the reception they light a candle “for those who couldn’t be with us” but it’s really just for House.

———————

Eighteen months after their wedding Wilson is standing in one of the PPTH delivery rooms.

“It’s a boy!” The doctor doing the delivery announces.

As Amber dozes that night, Wilson cradles the small bundle that is his son. He looks down at him with awe. The birth certificate sits next to him on the side table, signed by both him and Amber. It reads:

Michael Gregory Wilson-Volkais

He’d been worried about asking Amber to name their son after House. But she’d only smiled at him, and said she thought Gregory made a lovely middle name.

———————-

“Dad, who’s that with you in all the pictures?”

Michael is ten, and they are flipping through a photo album Amber just completed. She insisted they include pictures from before they met, because she was in her mid thirties and he was in his early 40’s when they met, meaning they both had a hell of a lot of life before each other.

“That’s your Uncle Greg.” Wilson answers, as they all stare down at a collage of images of himself and Greg.

“But I thought you only had two brothers, Uncle David and Uncle Danny.” Michael says, confused.

“Greg wasn’t my brother. We met at a medical conference when I was 28, and after that he was my best friend.”

“If he’s your best friend, why haven’t I ever met him?” Michael questions.

Wilson lets out a deep sigh, putting his arm around his son.

“Because he died, Buddy. Before you were born.”

“Oh.” Michael hangs his head, clearly feeling bad. The boy was cursed with his father’s empathy.

“It’s okay. It’s nice to talk about him. Did you know you’re named after him? Your middle name ‘Gregory’ is after your Uncle Greg. Gregory was his full first name.” Wilson tells him.

Michael thinks that’s pretty cool, and they move on to other pictures in the album. That night however, Wilson sits down with a glass of scotch and the album. He sips his drink and reminisces about the moment each picture captures, and all ones that weren’t captured on film.

———————-

At sixty-five Wilson lies in a hospital bed. His wife of twenty-three years is on one side of him, and his twenty-one year old son is on the other. Dying of cancer isn’t how he pictured his life ending, but having family around him makes it somewhat bearable, or maybe that’s the morphine.

He hates to leave his son so early, but that’s the danger of having kids later in life he supposes. Michael is only in his last year of his undergraduate degree - premed. He wants to be an oncologist like his old man. Wilson wonders if watching him die of cancer will change his mind.

He’s said his goodbyes, and slowly light and sound fades away. Strangely, or maybe not, his last thought is not of his wife or son, but of Greg House.

See you soon, old friend.

———————

“Wasn’t expecting to see you for another twenty years at least.”

He recognizes that voice. As he slowly opens his eyes he realizes he recognizes his surroundings too. It’s a forest in upstate New York. He and House used to go backpacking here. They’d spend weekends camped out, cooking everything over their campfire and sleeping side by side in sleeping bags in a two person tent.

He finds the source of the voice seated on a tree stump, and there he is.

“House.” Is the only word he manages.

“In the flesh. Well not really, but you know what I mean.” House smiles and laughs.

He looks like he did the night they met, dark hair and unshaven face. Jeans and a band t-shirt under a leather jacket. Wilson looks down at himself and realizes he’s similarly dressed, his own jeans and McGil sweatshirt. He touches his face and realizes he’s also back to the age he was that night.

“I missed you.” He tells House. It’s true. He didn’t realize how much until right now.

“Come on Jimmy, walk with me.”

House takes him down a narrow path that leads them to a small lake. Wilson remembers it from their camping trips. The only difference is now there is a small cottage next to it.

“So, what have you been up to?” House asks. Like they aren’t dead, like this isn’t some strange afterlife they find themselves occupying.

“Not much. Married Amber. Had a son. Named him Michael Gregory, after you.”

They stare at each other for a moment before bursting out into stomach aching laughter. After they finally stop they wrap their arms around each other in a tight hug. They never hugged much when they were alive, but now it feels right.

“What got you?” House asks softly in his ear.

“Cancer.” Wilson tells him.

“Wow. That’s… ironic.” House says as they pull away.

“Yeah. Yeah it is.”

They make their way into the cottage. House will give him a tour of it, and when the sun begins to set in their version of heaven they’ll lay down together in one bed without question.

In life they never seemed to get things right, and then their time together was cut short.

In death they’ll get it right.

[wilsons-three-legged-siamese]

My analysis on the House MD final, as i am struggling and this is for my art teacher 🫶

House always knows when hes hallucinating, because its happened so often. When Kutner appeared, he didn't bat an eye, he didn't even question it, he just accepted Kutner was there.

House casually convinces Foreman to try lower the sentence for Wilsons sake, thats extremely un-House-like.

House was seeing Kutner, because he was suicidal, because Wilson was/is suicidal. Also because House is suicidal.

Amber is the medical part of his brain, while Kutner is the personal part of his brain. Ironically, House prefers Kutner over Amber, because he keeps talking about Wilson.

House keeps insisting this man is alive and happe, yet hes dead and miserable. The man is representing Wilson, and House's denial for Wilsons diagnosis.

Houses subconscious finally tells him the puzzles keep him busy, telling him to find a puzzle about Wilson to keep him interested in him.

Again for Wilsons recklessness, breaking into Nolans meeting with people and not caring at all for confidentially and ethics.

Stacy comes back, telling him about signs about how he fell through the floor. Him falling through the floor could show that he was walking on thin ice with Wilson, and maybe in general.

Also not to mention:

"I know you believe in love."

*cuts to house and wilson eating lunch*

You cant tell me that wasn't unintentional.

The truth in both their eyes while eating that lunch and having a conversation, its insane. They're both so genuine and honest with each other at this point.

Chatting to Stacy about love, House refuses the fantasys with Dominika and hookers, yet Stacy says he can love another. This was very much disrected at Wilson.

The fact wilson was so ready to run in that fire and save House, shows the love. Wilson was ready to sacrifice himself, 5 months earlier than necessary.

House decides to save himself, so he can change for Wilson. When they lock eyes, the emotion looking at each other. In despear, denial and everything in between. Grief.

Wilson sat in a blanket says it all, he was broken, shatteted to pieces. Just lost without House. As he thought he just died in front of him.

Wilson was the main speech in the funeral, showing how special they were to each other and how much they appreciated one another.

Wilsons reaction was so real and desperate. He wasn't sad, yet, he was angry. He was furious for House "dying" before him.

Wilsons face, exactly when he looked at that message, it dropped. His eyes were confused, but he knee House was alive. He was too smart to die like that.

The man faked his death for his dying best friend. They really, really cared fir each other. They had each other, and thats all they had. Each other.

And thats all they need.

[theconstellationprincess]

House MD is so special to me. Everyone is a flip there, all of them. They’re just all silly little guys.

House is- oh geez he regresses all over the place. No age range, just chaos. Wilson was the first to know, before even House, because House didn’t actually know what it was (very rare occurrence.) It’s hard to tell when House is small because he’s just *like that* all the time, but he has a few tells. He’s quieter, more reserved, but only sometimes. Other times he gets more energetic and paces and fidgets more. Wilson can always tell, and eventually Foreman gets there too, and 13 clocks it right away like Wilson. 13 always knows, always. House can/will caregive, but it’s not his favourite. Except for Wilson, and Chase, and 13, because they are his (not so) secret favourites. Even then, he’s still not… amazing at it. He’s Wilson’s go to, And 13s on occasion.

Wilson is- he’s my little guy. Oh my gosh. So both agere and petre. He’s just- he’s a puppy dog, sometimes. He’s a baby, and a dog, sometimes at the same time. Wilson learns about age regression from Bonnie, who was selling a house too a couple and they wanted a second bedroom to turn into a nursery, but a sized up on. She had laughed at it at the time, so had he, but he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. He did research, and when ‘ooh uh oh.’ Because he’s silly like that. Pet regression wasn’t even something he knew he did, he just viewed it as regression over a general term, House introduced him to the specific term. They are flips for each other, Wilson takes care of House (very well) and House takes care of Wilson (he does his best) and they are happy. Occasionally, Wilson also caregives for a duckling, and gets taken care of by Cuddy or one of the ducklings.

My brain is stuck on Taub so- listen- he’s just a little fella. Not that he’s short, because he is average height, but ooh boy. Sometimes the fact that he is physically shorter than everyone on Houses team makes his brain do funny things. Taub needs human contact, he needs a hug so badly, and really he wants to be held, but his self-esteem is low so he doesn’t let himself even consider affection from people. When Taub regresses, these reservations go out the window. He wants hugs and hand holding and for someone to rub his back as he cries, and he will ask, so hopeful that no one says no. If they do say no, he will go hide so he can cry by himself, because he’s very worried about guilt tripping people into liking him when small. He regresses pretty small I think, like 1-4 range, and he does not regress at work for ages, but eventually it happens. He feigns illness and hides at home.

His wife knows, how could she not? But she doesn’t understand it. When he moves in with Foreman, hiding it is both easier and harder. Foreman doesn’t really care what he does, but he does want to sleep well, so Taub stops the late night TV because nothing makes him regress more than the original Dr Who. Well, that and the staying up late because his brain is a terrible place to be.

Foreman finds out eventually, at around 3am, when he walks in on Taub crying as the Third Doctor regenerates, which wouldn’t have been super odd, if Taub was not clutching a stuffed animal with a thumb in his mouth. That was the first time Foreman hugged Taub, though not particularly willingly.

And Foreman tells Chase and Cameron, of course, and it makes it to House by the end of the next day. Taub is both relieved and extremely stressed when House doesn’t mention it.

Let me know if you want more House, or any specific characters for me to write about!