#the only person not enjoying this is cuddy

[rhysintherain]

I know this episode is framed as a custody battle for Wilson, but "the polycule is fighting and demands their boss mediate their schedule" is much funnier so that's how I've decided to watch it.

[llycaons]

I started an episode of house and realized I was so sick of his shit, the fake deep conversations the team members pretend to have, the generic drama they manufacture, and the broader writing trends on the show (racism, misogyny)

[alilixx]

Lisa Cuddy X Lawyer Reader (WLW)

NSFW SOMETIMES

First of all, I just want to apologize for any misunderstandings or mistakes. I’m not from America or England, so the laws and conventions are different, etc and english isn't my native language so maybe the translate can't be that good but i did my best. I hope you still enjoy the fanfiction! Okay, so for those who might not understand, the message above was BEFORE I started writing. I’m adding a few things after finishing; I might write a sequel? I’m mostly going to sleep now because I spent my night and day finishing this fanfiction only to end up disappointed. I’m sorry, it’s been over five years since I last wrote a fanfiction, so I’ve lost some of my touch, but I hope you’ll like it. If you have any feedback, please feel free to share it, whether it’s positive or negative, but please do so respectfully! My next fanfictions will be about Hugh Laurie X Reader and then James Wilson X Reader! I won’t say anything more, but I promise to improve for the future. Alilixx

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A few hours after your lunch break, the phone at your office will ring. Your next client hadn't arrived yet, so what was the harm in answering? None, despite the number being strange, you were convinced you recognized it, but from where? After a few seconds of thinking, no answer would come to mind, so you pressed the button to pick up. The voice on the other end seemed familiar until everything clicked. House. A raspy voice on the phone you unfortunately knew quite well greeted you. Politeness would have dictated a "Hello" or something like that, but you didn't. He wasn't stupid; he knew why you weren't responding. Years without speaking after an argument, he didn't expect you to be very friendly with him, not after what he did.

"Listen Y/N, I know you didn't want to hear from me anymore, but I have a problem. I need a… favor, a service from you. I've caused more trouble for Cuddy and unfortunately, I don't have the money for lawyer fees, and neither does Cuddy. I don't want to lose my job, so just this once, help me."

After a few seconds of thinking, you shook your head before sighing and asking one of the last questions of this call, or so you hoped.

"I finish in two hours, stay at the hospital. I'll come after."

You would just hear a simple "Thanks" with what seemed like a smile from House. House smiling? Impossible, you hung up as your client arrived. Another divorce case, people sure get married way too often only to end up giving money to the other after the hate stage. You closed your client's file before grabbing your jacket and keys to head to the hospital, even though you'd rather be in a trial than go there. But seeing House asking for a favor was exceptional. After a good ten minutes, you arrived at the hospital. The reception didn't say anything as you passed by. Apparently, House had already warned people. Should you go to Cuddy's office or House's? After a few seconds of hesitation in the elevator, you decided to go to House's office, and no one was there. As if sending a message was complicated, you stepped back and knocked on Cuddy's office door. With her permission, you slightly opened the door to see several people inside. A woman was seated behind her desk, so Cuddy? The famous House and three other people, one of whom you didn't know, but the other two you did.

"Are you the police interrogating my clients, dear Lopez and Harper? I didn't know you had switched from lawyer to investigator. Unless I'm mistaken and you're doing this illegally? That would be a shame, wouldn't it?"

After turning around, the two lawyers who apparently had issues with House tried to come up with an excuse. The only response you gave them was a quick hand gesture towards the door behind you. They left, and you closed the door immediately. Cuddy got up to approach you, extending her hand to introduce herself, and you did the same. The person you didn't recognize smiled kindly at you, though you still couldn't place them.

"Can I know why they were here? I assume it has to do with House, but what did he do?"

Cuddy invited you to sit next to the unknown person, which you did. On the couch opposite were House and Cuddy. You quickly moved your head to see the name tag on the person's lab coat: "Wilson." Apparently, a very good friend of House. Cuddy cleared her throat to speak and crossed her left leg over the other.

"Dr. House… drugged someone to perform tests on them, even though they were healthy… at least nothing has shown up yet. The person contacted their lawyers to file a lawsuit against House."

You simply nodded, wondering why you agreed to this, just for a favor. You would have been better off sticking to divorces. You thought about how to defend this and opened a folder to read some documents. You thanked your education, which might potentially save him.

"I see, I understand the patient's perspective… The context is… unique. I must warn you there will likely be a conflict of interest, but I will remain neutral. It will probably be Judge Schultz, whom I know quite well, so there shouldn’t be any issues. However, the opposing side might use my past friendship with Dr. House as an argument, but that shouldn’t hold up given my reputation. We need the tests to be conclusive and show that the patient actually has something to better defend House. I’m not asking for a fake health report as that would just worsen the situation. I have about twelve strategies to defend House even if the tests aren't positive. So, if the tests are, House will get off with nothing but a fine."

Cuddy nodded while House didn’t seem to care at all, but you were used to that. This wasn’t the first time, and it would have surprised you if it were any different. You started writing down phrases on a sheet of paper before placing it on the small table between the four of you.

"I'll need you all to help fill in the details of my client's situation. Here's the first one: does the opposing side have any concrete evidence that House drugged them?"

Everyone looked at House, who tapped the floor with his cane before shaking his head.

"I don't think so. I used a very small dose so that it wouldn't show up when we ran the tests. So technically, no."

You crossed out the first line and moved on to the next. Thinking as you twirled the pen between your fingers, you crossed out the second phrase without even asking.

"I assume the person doesn't remember the events, so we can play on that. Implied consent… so lack of evidence and implied consent."

Were you as twisted as House for defending him this way? Probably. Was it worse because you were going to win? Probably that too, but it wasn't the time for a moral lesson, so you'd ponder the meaning of life later.

"I can try to use something else to strengthen our case, but it's a double-edged sword. I can argue absence of malicious intent, but… it's House. So, saying House didn't intend harm or that the tests were supposed to be beneficial or necessary in some way. The only problem is there are other ways to run tests, and I assume you already have a significant record for this kind of behavior. Plus, we need to contextualize the actions, and that will put House in the wrong. I don't think we should take that risk."

You crossed out another phrase; you were getting tired of this. Arguing about the patient's mental health but not providing extenuating circumstances for House because… it's House? As if he had no previous run-ins with the law, consent issues, and the problems that followed.

"We're going to play with the justice system and the opposing side, let me explain. I assume there hasn't been an investigation yet. Given the 'hidden' results, let's say, the police won't have anything, so we can play on that. So, 1-0. We can add that the patient has a grudge against House or just wants money given his status as a doctor, so trying to win a lawsuit brings in money. 2-0. And many other points considering legal loopholes and so on. So, we should win the case outright if House keeps a low profile and the results come back positive, proving the patient indeed has something, then House won't face anything except maybe a fine for 'saving a life'… I mean, he's not Superman either."

Cuddy nodded, looking thoughtful, while House seemed indifferent as usual. Wilson appeared both impressed and concerned, knowing House well enough to see the potential fallout. You continued jotting down notes, formulating a plan to navigate this complex case.

You closed your folder once more, placing the sheet inside, and looked at the others. It seemed you had lost Wilson in your explanation. Cuddy remained calm and simply nodded while House acted like his usual fool. You stood up, giving a quick wave of goodbye as you started to walk away from the trio, but you stopped at the door and turned around.

"I'm doing this for free, House, despite our past, but you must keep quiet during the trial. Otherwise, you're on your own. I'm not your mother."

Despite his jaw moving as if to speak, you left the hospital, running into Cameron. You didn't recognize her at first until she threw her arms around you. You gave her a gentle pat on the back. It had been since your cousin's passing that you had last seen her.

"Hey Cameron, how are you? You've aged!"

She gave you a light tap on the back, smiling and nodding. She explained that work was exhausting; after all, she worked for House. You understood completely, feeling the same after about an hour of saving his skin. She loved her job, as did House, but she prioritized her work, so she kept going. After about twenty minutes, you hugged her one last time before leaving, despite feeling someone watching you—probably House. You didn't care about his childish games; you just wanted to go home and rest. Your car was your best friend. Driving home with "The Chain" by Fleetwood Mac playing, you couldn't quite pinpoint why you loved the song so much—perhaps because it was a collection of unfinished pieces by the band? After long questions about your own existence, you realized you were already home. Grabbing your things and unlocking the door felt like the longest task of your life. You didn't even have the patience to put your things away, so they ended up on the couch, allowing you to shower and collapse into bed.

Hours passed, and your eyelids grew heavier until you saw "9am" on your alarm clock. Had you really slept, or was it just a sleepless night without realizing it? You were exhausted, but work was calling. Your next hearing was Friday afternoon, and it was Tuesday morning—surely, a day off wouldn't kill anyone, especially after dealing with House. You turned off your alarm for the next few wake-ups and let your heavy head fall back on the pillow, falling asleep once more.

This time, it was around two in the afternoon. Unfortunately, you had to work on a case, so you went through your routine—shower, document review, meal, and a quick walk to stretch your legs. The evening markets were beautiful; you couldn't go often during the week, but why not this time? The argument that kept you there longer was the still-warm cup of hot chocolate in your right hand. The twinkling lights of the stalls and the spicy scents floated in the cool night air. The crowd was dense but cheerful, with laughter and conversations creating a warm symphony that almost warmed you as much as the chocolate you had just finished. You wandered between the stands, stopping here and there to admire the handmade crafts and local products. Suddenly, your attention was drawn to a stand of colorful jewelry. An elderly woman with white hair and sparkling eyes held a delicately crafted silver necklace.

"Good evening," she said, her voice as warm as her smile. "Looking for something special?"

You smiled back, feeling the stress of the day melting away in the vibrant atmosphere of the market. "Just browsing, but this necklace is beautiful. Did you make it yourself?"

"Yes, indeed," she replied, her eyes twinkling with pride. "Each piece tells a story. Would you like to hear about this one?"

You nodded, intrigued, as she began to tell the tale behind the necklace, her words weaving a tapestry of history and craftsmanship that made you appreciate the piece even more.

"Do you like it?" she asked, noticing your interest.

"Yes, it's beautiful," you replied, stepping closer.

"It's a unique piece, made with great care," the woman explained. "Every detail tells a story."

You took the necklace in your hands, feeling the reassuring weight of the silver and admiring the intricate patterns. It almost seemed to vibrate with a special energy, as if it contained an ancient secret. You wondered what story it held and why, the moment you saw it, you thought of the woman in the office with House and his friend.

"I'll take it," you declared, determined. The old woman smiled even more and wrapped the necklace in pretty tissue paper before handing it to you. You thanked her and continued your stroll, the necklace safely kept in your bag. As you walked on, you couldn't help but think back to the old woman's words. Every detail tells a story... But why did it make you think of Cuddy? Lost in your thoughts, you didn't immediately notice the familiar figure heading toward you.

It was only when you heard your name that you looked up, surprised to see Cameron with two of her friends. One was an African-American man, about 6 feet tall, with an athletic and slim build reflecting a disciplined and well-cared-for appearance. His features included a square jaw and high cheekbones, giving his face a serious and determined expression. His short, well-groomed black hair accentuated his professional and rigorous look. You noticed his dark brown eyes, often penetrating and expressive. The other man, standing to his right, was a Caucasian, of medium height, around 6 feet tall. He had a lean and athletic build, reflecting an active youth and attention to physical fitness. His facial features were finely chiseled with a square jaw and a straight nose. His light blue eyes were often seen as penetrating and expressive, conveying a mix of curiosity, compassion, and doubt. His blonde hair was neatly styled with a touch of deliberately tousled disorder, giving him a relaxed and approachable look. Cameron gave you a quick wave to come over, which you did, of course, shaking hands with her two friends. The African-American man was Eric Foreman, and the other man was Robert Chase, according to Cameron, her colleagues at work. Though they were very friendly, you remained cautious as they were associated with House, which was the opposite of you.

After the introductions, Cameron smiled warmly at you. "We were thinking of going for a drink. Would you like to join us?"

You hesitated for a moment, but the idea of a relaxing evening was appealing. "Sure, that sounds nice."

The four of you headed to a quaint café-restaurant nearby. The place was cozy, with dim lighting and a welcoming atmosphere. You took a seat at a table by the window, offering a beautiful view of the illuminated square. The conversation started off slowly, with polite exchanges about your respective days. Foreman talked about his interest in neurology, while Chase shared some amusing anecdotes from his time in Australia. Cameron, ever considerate, made sure you felt comfortable and included in the discussion.

Then, the topic inevitably shifted to House. "So, you work with House?" you asked, trying to hide your curiosity behind a polite smile.

Foreman and Chase exchanged a knowing glance. "Yeah, it’s… an experience, let’s say," Chase replied with a wry smile.

"That’s putting it mildly," Foreman added with a nod.

The evening continued in a lighter atmosphere. You shared laughs, stories, and moments of camaraderie. Gradually, you felt more at ease with them, realizing that despite their connections to House, they were passionate and dedicated professionals. As the night progressed, Cameron suggested taking a stroll through the markets before heading home.

"Let’s enjoy the evening a bit more, what do you think?"

You eagerly agreed, happy to extend this pleasant moment. Foreman and Chase joined in, and you found yourselves back among the sparkling lights and enchanting scents of the night markets. Maybe this chance meeting would mark the beginning of a new friendship, or even an unexpected collaboration. Either way, you felt ready to embrace whatever the future might bring, surrounded by these newfound allies.

After a delightful evening with Cameron, Foreman, and Chase, you parted ways with your new friends and headed home. The night was well advanced, and the streets were calm, bathed in the soft glow of street lamps. The return journey allowed you to reflect on the evening and the people you had just met. Arriving home, you closed the door behind you and let out a long sigh of contentment. The warmth and comfort of your apartment enveloped you immediately. You kicked off your shoes and took off your jacket, neatly putting them away before heading to the kitchen. You made yourself a cup of chamomile tea, seeking to relax before bed. With your warm cup in hand, you made your way to the living room and settled on the couch. You took a moment to think about the evening, replaying each conversation and the impressions Foreman and Chase had left on you. They seemed like good people, despite their association with House. Perhaps they deserved a chance.

You placed the empty cup on the coffee table and got ready for bed. In your bedroom, you changed out of your clothes from the day into a comfortable nightshirt. Before sliding under the covers, you took out the necklace you had bought earlier at the market and examined it again. The old woman’s words still echoed in your mind: “Every detail tells a story.” As you observed the necklace in the soft light of your bedside lamp, you wondered what story it might tell. Perhaps this unique piece would hold a special meaning for you, a symbol of this unexpected evening and the new acquaintances you had made. You gently placed the necklace on your nightstand and turned off the lamp, slipping beneath the covers. As you closed your eyes, you felt strangely serene. The fatigue from the day and the soothing warmth of your bed enveloped you, and you drifted off to sleep, already dreaming of future adventures.

The next morning, you woke with the first rays of sunlight filtering through your bedroom curtains. You stretched out, still feeling the previous day's fatigue but also a newfound excitement for the day ahead. After a quick shower and a light breakfast, you felt ready to tackle the new day. You took a moment to examine the necklace again on your nightstand. It seemed even more mysterious in the daylight. Though you were tempted to wear it, you remembered your decision to give it to Cuddy when the time was right. With a smile, you returned the necklace to its box and carefully placed it in a drawer.

As you left your house, you headed towards your workplace. The morning passed quickly with the usual tasks, client meetings, and paperwork. However, you couldn’t stop thinking about Cameron, Foreman, and Chase. The idea of seeing them again seemed increasingly appealing. At lunch break, you received a message from Cameron. She invited you to join the three of them for coffee after work. With a smile, you responded positively, excited about the prospect of getting to know these new people better.

After work, you made your way to the café where you were to meet Cameron, Foreman, and Chase. The place was cozy, with a warm and welcoming atmosphere. You found them seated at a table near the window, waving to you as you walked in. The conversation quickly picked up where you had left off the night before. You discussed various topics, from work challenges to personal hobbies. At one point, Foreman asked about your necklace.

"Oh, it was a spontaneous purchase at the market last night," you said with a smile. "The lady who sold it to me mentioned that every detail tells a story."

"That’s fascinating," Chase said, examining the necklace more closely. "Maybe we should try to uncover that story."

The idea sounded intriguing. "Why not?" you replied. "It could be an interesting activity."

After your coffee, you decided to take a short walk in the area, enjoying the evening’s mild weather. Along the way, you passed an antique shop. Cameron suggested you go inside, thinking the owner might know more about your necklace. Inside the shop, the atmosphere was imbued with old-world charm. The owner, an older man with round glasses, greeted you warmly. You showed him the necklace and explained how you had acquired it. He examined the piece carefully before looking up at you. "This necklace is indeed very special. It comes from an old collection, known for its connections to stories of healing."

You found it quite amusing that Cuddy had come to mind, but why did you think of her? The subject intrigued you more and more. “Really? What else can you tell us about it?”

The shopkeeper smiled and began to recount a fascinating story about the origin of the necklace, its former owners, and the legends surrounding it. You listened intently, mesmerized by the details and mysteries that this simple piece of jewelry seemed to contain. After leaving the shop, you found yourself with Cameron, Foreman, and Chase, discussing the implications of what you had just learned. “I think this necklace might really appeal to Cuddy,” you said with a smile. “I want to give it to her, but I also want to make sure I understand its entire story.”

Cameron nodded. “That’s a lovely idea. And we’d be happy to help you uncover more.”

You smiled gently, touched by Cameron’s kindness. The evening ended on this note of camaraderie and shared enthusiasm. Back at home, you once again put away the necklace, promising yourself to continue exploring its secrets. You were now convinced that this piece of jewelry would play an important role, not only in your future relationship with Cuddy but also in your own adventure.

On Thursday morning, you woke up early, feeling the weight of a busy day ahead. After a quick shower and a light breakfast, you prepared to tackle the last-minute preparations for your client's trial scheduled for the next day. Before leaving your apartment, you took a moment to ensure that all the necessary documents were in order and neatly packed in your briefcase.

At the office, you greeted your colleagues and immediately immersed yourself in work. The morning passed swiftly with dossier reviews, phone calls, and meetings with your legal team. Your assistant brought you a strong coffee, knowing you would need all the energy you could get. Early in the afternoon, you decided to take a break and headed to your usual café, where you had met Cameron, Foreman, and Chase. They were scheduled to join you for a discussion and to help take your mind off the upcoming trial.

When they arrived, you ordered drinks and settled at a quiet table.

The conversation quickly shifted to your work and the upcoming trial. “You must be pretty stressed,” Foreman remarked, studying you closely.

“Yes, that’s the case,” you admitted. “But I’m ready.”

Chase smiled. “You’re one of the best. Your client is in good hands.”

Cameron added, “We’re here to support you. You’re going to do great.”

As the evening approached, you headed back home. After returning to the office, you spent the evening fine-tuning your arguments, reviewing testimonies, and ensuring that all evidence was in order. You felt the pressure mounting, but you were determined to give your all for your client. Around 10 p.m., you decided to go home to rest. You took a hot shower to unwind and made yourself a cup of herbal tea. Before going to bed, you took one last look at your trial notes, re-reading the key points to make sure everything was clear in your mind.

On Friday morning, you woke up with renewed determination. After a quick shower and breakfast, you headed to the courthouse. The atmosphere was tense, but you felt prepared.

At the courthouse, you met with your client and reassured them. “We’re ready. Trust me.”

The trial began, and you focused entirely on your arguments, presenting clear and compelling points. Hours passed in palpable tension, with every word and gesture carrying crucial importance. During breaks, you quickly checked your phone, receiving encouraging messages from Cameron, Foreman, and Chase. Their support gave you the strength to continue with confidence.

Finally, the moment of the verdict arrived. The jury retired to deliberate, and you spent this waiting period with your client, trying to reassure them despite your own stress. When the jury returned with their decision, you stood alongside your client to hear the verdict.

As the verdict was announced, a wave of relief and satisfaction washed over you. Your client was acquitted. You felt an immense sense of pride and gratitude for all the hard work accomplished. After thanking and congratulating your client, you left the courthouse with a sense of accomplishment.

In the evening, after meeting with a client following the verdict, the day had passed quietly. To celebrate, you sent a message to Cameron, Foreman, and Chase, inviting them to meet at the same café to share the good news. They arrived promptly, all smiles and ready to celebrate with you.

"Congratulations!" Cameron exclaimed, hugging you tightly. "You did it!"

Foreman and Chase also offered their congratulations, and you spent the evening chatting, laughing, and enjoying the moment of victory.As you were sitting at a table near the window, you noticed Wilson enter the café. Clearly, he was there for a break after a long day at the hospital. You waved at him, and he approached your table with a smile.

"Hey, everyone!" Wilson said as he approached. "Congratulations on the trial, I heard it went well."

"Thanks, Wilson. Yes, everything went really well," you replied with a smile, still floating on a cloud of victory, even though you didn’t know him very well.

"You did well to celebrate," Wilson added, addressing everyone. "I hope you’re all enjoying your evening."

After exchanging a few pleasantries and congratulations, Wilson left to pick up his coffee order. You resumed your conversation, but you couldn’t help but wonder how Wilson had heard about your success.

When you returned home late that evening, you took a moment to reflect on everything that had happened over the past few days. You knew that new adventures and challenges awaited you, but for now, you allowed yourself to savor this well-deserved victory. Before going to bed, you took a moment to unwind and enjoy the calm after the excitement of the day. You slipped into your bed, exhausted but happy, ready to face whatever the future held.

On Monday morning, back at the hospital, Wilson crossed paths with House in one of the corridors. House, as usual, seemed intrigued by something.

"So, you were at the café last night?" House asked, with an apparently nonchalant tone but with a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

Wilson nodded. "Yes, I ran into your team and your lawyer there. They were celebrating Y/N’s trial success."

House raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Interesting."

Wilson smiled at House’s evident interest. "You seem quite intrigued, House. Anything to say about it?"

House pretended not to be particularly interested, but he couldn't completely hide his curiosity. "I just wonder how she manages to juggle everything. Maybe there's something else driving her."

As you were heading to the break room for a well-deserved rest, you bumped into House. He looked at you with that enigmatic smile that was so characteristic of him.

"So, the great lawyer wins again," he said with a sarcastic tone, his piercing gaze fixed on you.

"It was a team effort, as always," you replied with a smile.

House shrugged, a mocking expression on his face. "Yeah, that's what they say. But maybe you just got lucky or you slipped under the desk."

You furrowed your brow slightly but maintained your composure. "Yes, luck always plays a role."

House looked at you for a moment, his smile turning into a smirk. "Or maybe your persuasive skills are just a façade. You should really thank your team more often."

You felt a flicker of irritation rise but kept your calm. "I know how to recognize my colleagues' work, House. Thanks for the advice."

House burst into a humorless laugh. "Oh, I’m sure you do. Everyone loves recognition, especially when they’re working for someone as... competent."

Before you could respond, House turned and walked away, his laughter echoing in the corridor. You stood there for a moment, contemplating the interaction. House had a way of hitting on the most sensitive points, and he seemed to enjoy testing your limits. You pushed the confrontation aside for now, thinking that you'd bring it up with Cuddy. As the hour came to return to work and finish your day, your thoughts refocused on your tasks.

Your morning had dragged on so much that it felt like the entire year was crammed into a single day, stretching it out as long as possible. Fortunately, after another two long hours, your lunch break finally arrived. You were exhausted and eager to see Cuddy. After finishing your urgent tasks, you made your way to Cuddy's office. With House's upcoming trial requiring your attention, you needed to meet with her to discuss the strategy and details of the case.

When you knocked on her door, Cuddy motioned for you to come in.

"Hello, Y/N. How are you?" Cuddy asked with a smile.

"Hi, Cuddy. I'm good, thanks. I wanted to discuss House's trial and see if we're all on the same page. I've just finished drafting all the arguments, possible responses, and so on. I'd like you to take a look," you said, taking a seat across from her.

Cuddy nodded. "Sure. I've prepared some additional documents that might be useful in the worst-case scenario."

You spent the next few hours reviewing the case details, strategizing, and discussing potential challenges ahead. Amidst the professional discussions, you briefly mentioned your recent encounter with House.

"Oh, he was particularly irritating today," you said with a smile. "He implied that my persuasive skills were just a façade and that I should thank my team more often, suggesting I used my feminine wiles to win."

Cuddy sighed. "House likes to push people's buttons, especially when he knows they've achieved something important. Don’t let him get to you. He’s just… House."

"I know," you replied. "But sometimes it’s really frustrating."

Cuddy smiled warmly. "You’re doing an excellent job. Don’t let his comments shake you."

After your meeting with Cuddy, you felt better prepared for House’s trial. You took the time to organize your files and review your preparations. Leaving the hospital, you felt confident and ready to face this new challenge, though a part of you remained apprehensive about what House might do during the trial.

When you got home, you took a moment to relax, appreciating the quiet of the evening. You knew the coming days would be intense, but you were ready for the challenge, buoyed by the support of your colleagues and friends. You found yourself reflecting on the afternoon meeting with Cuddy, her encouraging words echoing in your mind. You realized that you valued not only her professional support but also her personal presence. Perhaps she could become a good friend, although you knew she would never see you as more. Cameron was the only one who knew about your attraction to women, especially older ones, so you recognized Cuddy as your vulnerable spot.

On Saturday morning, an idea popped into your head. You remembered that Cuddy had a particular café she liked near the hospital. You decided to stop by and pick up her favorite coffee as a gesture of thanks for her support. Arriving at the café, you ordered two drinks and a pastry that you knew Cuddy liked. With the cups in hand, you headed towards the hospital, hoping that Cuddy would be in her office even on the weekend.

However, as you walked, you realized that giving the items directly to her might be too forward. An idea struck you, and you stopped by a flower shop to buy a bouquet. With the flowers in hand, you returned to the hospital and asked a nurse to deliver everything to Cuddy without mentioning your name. Fortunately, the nurse agreed and took care of your request.

When Cuddy received the coffee, pastry, and flowers, she immediately asked who had sent them. The nurse, respecting your wish for anonymity, provided a brief physical description. Cuddy quickly understood who the gesture was from, but it was too late for her to find you.

Back at home, you collapsed onto your bed, ready to enjoy the weekend. The days passed quietly with workouts, delicious meals, binge-watching shows, and a bit of work to stay on top of things. You felt relaxed and pleased to have made a thoughtful gesture for Cuddy. It was a step forward, and at worst, she might simply tell you she wasn’t interested in women. Unlike House, she wouldn’t insult or belittle people based on their feelings.

As you arrived at the hospital on Monday, your day off, you felt a mix of excitement and apprehension, curious about how Cuddy had reacted to your gesture. You took a deep breath before entering the building and headed towards your office. Shortly after arriving, you received a message from Cuddy asking you to join her in her office. Your heart raced as you made your way there, wondering what she would say.

Upon entering Cuddy's office, you found her sitting at her desk, a mysterious smile on her lips. She gestured for you to take a seat.

"Hello, Y/N. Thank you for the coffee and the flowers," she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

You felt a slight flush on your cheeks. "I just wanted to thank you for your support. It’s a small gesture to support House."

Cuddy nodded, still smiling. "It was very kind of you. I wasn’t expecting that."

You took a deep breath, feeling that now was the right moment to make the first move. "Cuddy, I’d really like us to spend more time together outside of work. Maybe dinner or something one evening?"

Cuddy looked at you, considering your proposal. "You know what? I’d like that. How about tonight, after work?"

A bright smile spread across your face, and you nodded enthusiastically. "That would be perfect. Thank you, Cuddy."

After your interaction, you left Cuddy’s office and saw Cameron waiting for you, looking slightly concerned. Since Cameron was the only one aware of your sexuality, you took the opportunity to explain the situation. She smiled warmly, congratulated you, and wished you good luck.

That evening, you met Cuddy at a cozy restaurant, the intimate and warm atmosphere fostering a deeper connection. You talked about everything and nothing, sharing anecdotes and laughter. The professional tension melted away, replaced by a natural camaraderie. At the end of the dinner, as you both walked to your cars, Cuddy turned to you, her eyes shining in the streetlamp light.

"This was really nice," she said softly. "I’m glad we did this."

You smiled, feeling a sense of contentment and hope. "Me too. I’ve really enjoyed it."

As you parted ways, you felt a sense of optimism about where this might lead. You knew it was just the beginning, but it was a promising start.

"Thank you for the evening, Y/N. It’s been a long time since I had such a good time," Cuddy said softly, her smile warm and genuine.

You felt a pleasant warmth spread through your heart. "Me too, Cuddy. I’m really glad we did this."

There was a brief silence before, making a brave decision, she leaned in slightly and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek. "Good night, Y/N."

She smiled at you, a tender glint in her eyes. "Good night, Cuddy. See you soon."

As she walked away, you were left momentarily stunned by her gesture. A kiss on the cheek? What was that supposed to mean? Was it just a friendly gesture or something more? You found yourself debating with your inner thoughts, trying to make sense of it. Frustrated with your own confusion, you decided to head to a nearby bar for a few drinks to clear your mind.

A few drinks turned into several, and by the time you stumbled back home, you were slightly tipsy. After a quick shower to wash away the remnants of the evening, you collapsed into bed. Despite your exhaustion, your mind replayed the evening over and over, unable to settle. The new level of your relationship with Cuddy had opened a door to unknown possibilities, and you were eager to see where it might lead.

The day of the trial arrived faster than expected. You knew it would be a challenging day, but with your recent experiences and the support of your colleagues, you felt prepared to face whatever lay ahead. As you entered the courtroom, you reminded yourself of the strength and confidence you had built over the past weeks. You could do this.

The courtroom was tense, but you focused on your preparations and the strategy you and Cuddy had developed. With each passing moment, you felt more centered and determined to deliver your best performance.

During a break in the trial, you caught a glimpse of Cuddy in the hallway. She gave you a reassuring nod, and you felt a surge of encouragement. Whatever the outcome, you knew you had given it your all.

The day of the trial arrived. Dr. Gregory House finds himself on trial for allegedly drugging a patient, Mr. Richard Moore, in order to have him undergo a series of medical tests without his consent. Although these tests ultimately revealed that Mr. Moore suffered from lupus, he claims to have no memory of the period during which the tests were performed, and he accuses House of having drugged and kidnapped him.

The trial began in a crowded courtroom, the case having attracted a lot of attention. The judge opened the proceedings, and the prosecution and defense attorneys presented their opening arguments. The prosecution attorney stood up and described in detail the charges brought against House, insisting on the psychological trauma suffered by Mr. Moore and the illegality of House's actions.

You stood up to present the defense arguments, immediately highlighting the lack of concrete evidence and the importance of the vital diagnosis obtained through the tests performed by House. You emphasized the absence of malicious intent and the life-saving nature of the intervention. Mr. Moore testified by describing his state of confusion and memory loss. He expressed his hatred towards House, claiming that he had been abducted and drugged against his will.

You began by sympathizing with Mr. Moore, acknowledging the pain and confusion he was experiencing. Then, you pointed out the inconsistencies in his account due to his fuzzy memory and highlighted the absence of tangible evidence. You asked him if he remembered specific moments when he might have been drugged, to which he answered negatively. House testified by explaining his actions from the medical point of view. He described the symptoms observed in Mr. Moore that had led him to suspect lupus and insisted that he had acted to save his life.

The prosecution attorney tried to show that House had exceeded his prerogatives, but you intervened regularly to object and protect House from biased questions. You had called several medical experts who confirmed that Mr. Moore's symptoms were consistent with lupus and that the early diagnosis had probably saved his life. They also explained that, without these tests, the lupus could have remained undiagnosed, putting Mr. Moore's life in serious danger. The prosecution attorney concluded by insisting on the lack of consent and the trauma experienced by Mr. Moore. He asked the jury to consider the violation of his client's rights.

You stood up for your closing argument, summarizing the key points: the lack of concrete evidence demonstrating that House had drugged Mr. Moore, Mr. Moore’s confusion and amnesia making his testimony unreliable, the absence of malicious intent on House's part, and finally, the vital importance of the lupus diagnosis obtained through the tests performed. You concluded by emphasizing that House had saved Mr. Moore's life and that his actions, although controversial, were guided by a legitimate medical concern.

After deliberations, the jury returned with a verdict. The judge spoke to announce the decision, "After examining the evidence and testimonies, the jury has concluded that the charges against Dr. Gregory House have not been proven beyond a reasonable doubt. Dr. House is therefore acquitted of all charges." Everyone was leaving, including House, Cuddy, Wilson, and yourself. You took the opportunity to step away from the crowd with them.

House turned to you with a smirk. "Well done, Y/N. I knew you'd rise to the occasion to defend the best doctor."

You felt relieved and proud of the work accomplished. "Thank you, House. Now, I hope you’ve learned your lesson and will be more careful in the future."

House shrugged. "We’ll see if I listened to the conversation."

You sighed, letting the stress go, satisfied with the outcome and ready to face the next challenges that House would present.

The month that followed was relatively pleasant. You had good times with Cameron and her friends, Foreman and Chase, outside of work. Evening outings, dinners, and lively conversations brought some joy to your routine. However, despite these good times, you felt a void every time you came home. Something was missing, a presence or a deeper connection. One evening, after yet another outing, you decided to take the bull by the horns. You invited Cameron to your place for a one-on-one discussion. Sitting in your living room, you revealed what you were feeling, hoping to find some clarity and perhaps some advice. To your surprise, Cameron began to smile and then to laugh softly. Intrigued and slightly puzzled by her reaction, you looked at her, searching for an explanation. "Why are you laughing?" you asked.

Cameron, still smiling, replied: "Don't worry, you'll understand in a few days. Trust me."

The next day, while you were immersed in your work at the office, your phone rang. On the other end of the line, a receptionist from a certain hospital where Cameron worked informed you that Dr. Lisa Cuddy wanted to see you. Intrigued and curious, you accepted the appointment, wondering what it could mean. On your way to the hospital, you decided to bring some coffees, one for yourself and one for Cuddy, hoping to create a relaxed atmosphere for your meeting.

Entering Cuddy's office, you were greeted by her professional yet warm smile. She thanked you for the coffee and invited you to sit down. After a few polite exchanges, she addressed the main topic of your meeting.

"Y/N, I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you to come here," she began. "House is once again involved in trouble. I was impressed by your defense in his last trial, and I would like to offer you the opportunity to become his official attorney."

You were stunned by the proposal. Becoming House's permanent attorney meant constant responsibility and frequent challenges, but it was also a unique opportunity.

Cuddy, noticing your hesitation, added: "I understand that this is an important decision. You can continue to manage your practice and only come here when necessary."

After a moment of reflection, you realized that this offer might address the void you were feeling. Accepting this role would allow you to continue practicing law while staying connected to a stimulating and dynamic environment. With renewed determination, you looked up at Cuddy and nodded. "Okay, I accept. I will be House's official attorney."

Leaving the hospital that day, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. You had just taken a major turn in your career, a turn that not only brought you closer to professional challenges but also to people you were beginning to consider close friends.

The following month promised to be full of surprises and new adventures, and you were ready to face them with new determination. After accepting Cuddy's offer, you found yourself often thinking about her. These thoughts were not purely professional; you realized that your feelings went beyond mere admiration. However, accepting these feelings was not easy for you. You had never really embraced your sexuality, and the prospect of being attracted to a woman, especially a colleague, deeply troubled you.

One evening, after a long day at work, Cameron came to visit you. She had noticed your distress and wanted to help you gain some clarity. You both settled comfortably in your living room, a steaming cup of tea in hand.

"You seem preoccupied lately," she said gently. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You hesitated for a moment but decided to confide in her about your suppressed feelings for Cuddy. Cameron listened attentively, without judgment, and reassured you with her soothing, calming voice.

"You know, Y/N, it's not easy to accept certain things about oneself," she began. "But your feelings are natural. It's not a matter of gender; it's about love and connection."

She then suggested an idea to help you open up further. "How about coming to a karaoke night with me? It might help take your mind off things and allow you to relax a bit."

What you didn’t know was that Cameron had a more elaborate plan in mind. She wanted to give you an opportunity to get closer to Cuddy in a natural setting. After you agreed to the karaoke, she contacted Wilson to help set up an unexpected meeting.

"Wilson, I need your help," she said on the phone. "Can you invite Cuddy to a karaoke this weekend without telling her that Y/N will be there? I think it could help both of them."

Wilson, always eager to assist his friends, agreed enthusiastically. He knew how beneficial this meeting could be for both of you.

On Saturday evening, you prepared with a certain nervousness for the karaoke night. Cameron picked you up, and you both headed to the bar where the event was taking place. Upon entering, you were pleasantly surprised by the warm and relaxed atmosphere of the place. Meanwhile, Cuddy, persuaded by Wilson to come out for a pleasant evening, arrived shortly after you. She had no idea what awaited her.

As you sipped your drink and chatted with Cameron, you noticed Cuddy walking into the bar. Your heart leaped in your chest. You turned to Cameron, eyes wide. She gave you a knowing wink.

"Relax," she whispered. "Enjoy the evening."

Wilson approached Cuddy and explained that he had invited someone else she might find interesting. He discreetly pointed in your direction. Cuddy made her way over, a curious smile on her lips.

"Good evening, Y/N, Cameron," she said as she joined your table. "What a pleasant surprise to see you here."

As the evening progressed, the songs played, laughter erupted, and the atmosphere became increasingly relaxed. You felt your barriers gradually melting away, encouraged by Cameron's reassuring presence and Cuddy's warm attention.

At one point, Cuddy suggested that you sing a duet. The song choice was a soft and melodic ballad, "Creep" by Radiohead, which brought you even closer together. As you sang side by side, you exchanged glances and smiles that spoke volumes. Of course, Cameron wouldn’t let this slip by and later made you sing "Tear You Apart" by She Wants Revenge. Even during the karaoke session, she noticed your lingering glances towards Cuddy during the chorus, which said a lot.

The karaoke night was a success. Thanks to Cameron and her ingenious plan, you had the opportunity to get closer to Cuddy in a relaxed and friendly setting. When you returned home that night, you felt more at peace with yourself and more confident about your feelings. Cameron had given you the push you needed to embrace who you were and what you felt. Now, you were ready to explore this new dimension of your life with greater serenity and openness, though you had to be cautious about House finding out. You weren’t ready yet to discuss this or face any potential insults from him.

The days following the karaoke night were marked by a subtle but significant change. Your interactions with Cuddy became more frequent, not only due to hospital legal matters but also through spontaneous moments of camaraderie. You were getting to know each other beyond the professional setting, and each conversation strengthened this budding connection. Each morning, you developed the habit of bringing Cuddy a coffee before starting your day, spending much more time at the hospital than at your office. It was a simple but meaningful gesture that quickly became a ritual for both of you. You often found yourselves in her office discussing current hospital affairs, but these moments also turned into opportunities to share personal anecdotes and enjoy each other's company.

One morning, while sipping her coffee, Cuddy gave you a grateful look. “You know, Y/N, these little moments of respite really make a difference in my day. It helps me forget that House is here and working for me.”

You smiled, touched by her words. “For me too, Lisa... Cuddy.”

Your exchanges weren’t limited to the morning coffees. Lunches also became an opportunity to get closer. Whether at the hospital cafeteria or in a small neighborhood restaurant, every shared meal strengthened your bond. You spent much less time with the trio, but it apparently didn’t bother them.

One day, while enjoying a salad at a sunny café, Cuddy asked you an unexpected question. “How did you decide to become a lawyer?” Surprised by the question but pleased by her interest, you shared your journey, including the impact of your cousin's death, the challenges you had overcome, and the motivations that led you to choose this career. Cuddy listened intently, her eyes expressing deep curiosity and sincere respect.

There were also times when your days extended beyond office hours. Sometimes, you would go for a drink after work, sharing moments of relaxation where professional concerns gave way to lighter and more intimate conversations. One evening, in particular, stood out. After a particularly stressful day, Cuddy suggested unwinding at a cocktail bar near the hospital. Sitting at the counter, you talked about everything and nothing, letting the events of the day fade with each sip of your drink.

“Sometimes, I wonder how you manage to stay so calm and composed, even though you’re very authoritative,” you said, observing Cuddy.

She chuckled softly. “It’s a façade, believe me. But having friends and moments like these really helps.”

As the weeks passed, you developed a relationship of mutual trust. Cuddy confided in you about the challenges of her position as hospital director, and you found in her a valuable listener for your own concerns. This dynamic of reciprocal support was new and comforting for you.

One afternoon, after returning from the courthouse, you found Cuddy sitting at her desk, visibly exhausted. Without a word, you took a seat across from her and pulled out a small box of chocolates you had bought with her in mind.

“For a little pick-me-up,” you said with a smile.

Cuddy looked up, clearly touched by your gesture. “You’re my savior, love. Thank you.”

The word “love” resonated within you like a gentle echo. You felt your cheeks flush slightly. This endearing nickname, filled with tenderness and affection, stirred feelings you had tried to suppress. Your heart quickened, and you suddenly became acutely aware of every small detail of the situation: the soft light in the office, Cuddy’s sincere gaze, and the pleasant warmth of the chocolates in your hands. Trying to control your emotions, you responded with a slightly trembling but sincere voice, “I… I’m glad you liked it, Lisa. You do so much for everyone here, it’s only natural for someone to take care of you too.”

Cuddy smiled and briefly took your hand, a simple yet deeply meaningful gesture. “Thank you, really.”

After this exchange, you spent the rest of the day in a state of deep reflection. This sweet nickname and Cuddy’s attention only reinforced the feelings you were beginning to understand and accept. You found yourself smiling for no apparent reason, replaying that moment over and over in your mind.

In the evening, you decided to talk to Cameron about what you had felt. She listened attentively, her gaze full of understanding.

"You see, Y/N," she said gently, "sometimes you just have to let things happen. Cuddy really values you, and it seems she’s starting to feel something for you too. There’s nothing wrong with exploring these feelings."

You nodded, feeling a mix of hope and nervousness. "Yes, you're right. I suppose I just need to be patient and see how things develop."

In the following days, you continued to offer your support to Cuddy, and she did the same for you. Each exchange, each gesture of affection reinforced your bond. The nickname "love" became a kind of shared secret, a constant reminder of the growing affection between you.

In the end, you realized that these feelings, although unsettling at first, were a natural part of your life. And with Cameron’s support and the patience you were showing, you knew you were on the right path to building something beautiful and lasting with Cuddy. As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself eagerly anticipating each meeting with Cuddy. She had become more than just a colleague or client; she had become a cherished friend, and perhaps, something more.

For now, you allowed yourself to be carried along by this new adventure, savoring each moment and letting things evolve naturally. The future remained uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, you felt ready to face it, with an open heart and a serene mind.

Everything was going well between you and Cuddy. The morning exchanges, the lunches, the moments of complicity were multiplying. You felt increasingly comfortable with your feelings, encouraged by Cameron’s advice and Cuddy’s kindness. But one day, an unexpected event was about to turn everything upside down. It was an ordinary day until an accident occurred in the hospital. A cart full of files toppled over in the hallway, and among the scattered papers, a personal note from Cuddy to you fell to the ground. House, passing by by chance, picked up the note before you could react. That evening, as you were finishing your day, you were intercepted by House in a deserted corridor. He had a smug grin plastered on his face and the note in hand.

“So, Y/N, having fun with Cuddy?” he started, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You felt your stomach knot. “Give me that, House. It’s none of your business.”

He waved the note in front of you, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, but it becomes my business when you drag your romantic issues into MY hospital.”

House moved closer, his expression hardening. “Seriously, do you think she sees you as anything more than a distraction? A little toy to pass the time?” He snickered. “You’re pathetic, trailing around like a puppy craving attention.”

You felt anger rising in you, but also a chilling fear. “That’s not true, House. You don’t know anything.” He burst into laughter, a cold and cruel laugh. “Oh, I know more than you imagine. Cuddy’s playing with you, and you’re too stupid to realize it. You think she loves you?” His tone grew more venomous. “She keeps you around for her little emotional emergencies. She doesn’t need you; she doesn’t need anyone.”

House stepped back slightly, looking you up and down. “Seriously, do you think someone like you could interest her? She could have anyone, and she’d choose a pathetic, lost lawyer? You’re laughable.”

Each word felt like a punch. You wanted to defend yourself, but the words got stuck in your throat.

“Look at yourself,” House continued. “A poor girl seeking affection. You’re a walking failure, trash no one wants. And when Cuddy’s had enough of you, she’ll toss you away like an old rag.”

These words hit you like a ton of bricks. You felt your eyes welling up with tears, but you refused to let them fall in front of him. Summoning all the courage you could muster, you took a step forward.

"You’re wrong, House. What Cuddy and I have is real. What you say doesn’t change that."

He looked you over for a moment, then shrugged indifferently. "Believe what you want. But remember my words when she dumps you."

House turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you alone in the hallway, emotions bubbling inside you.

You stood there, trembling with anger and pain, House’s cruel words echoing in your mind. But deep down, you knew you had to stay strong. No matter what he said, you had feelings for Cuddy and you had to fight for them. This brutal confrontation with House was just another hurdle to overcome, and with the support of Cuddy and Cameron, you knew you could get through it.

After the confrontation with House, you felt devastated and overwhelmed by emotions. You knew you couldn’t go home in this state. You headed up to the hospital roof, a quiet place where you could think and collect yourself. Sitting on a bench, you let the tears flow, recalling every venomous word House had said. You knew he had a talent for hitting where it hurt, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he was right. Doubts crept into your mind, shaking your confidence in yourself and in your relationship with Cuddy.

After a few minutes of solitude, you took out your phone and dialed Cameron’s number. She had always been a valuable support for you, and you knew she would find the right words to comfort you.

"Cameron, it’s Y/N. I need to talk. Can you come up to the roof of the hospital?" you said, your voice trembling.

“I'm coming right away,” she replied, her tone full of concern.

A few minutes later, Cameron arrived on the roof, her face showing deep worry. She sat down beside you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

You told her everything, from the accident that allowed House to find the note to his cruel and hurtful remarks. Cameron listened attentively, her expression hardening as you spoke.

“House can be really mean sometimes,” she said finally. “But he doesn’t know anything about what you truly feel for Cuddy, or what Cuddy feels for you. Don’t let him tear you down.”

Cameron's words provided some comfort. She was right. House had no right to judge your relationship with Cuddy, and he knew nothing about what you shared. You felt a bit stronger, ready to face the situation with more clarity. Unfortunately, you decided not to tell Cuddy, not wanting to disturb her or seem strange. So you distanced yourself a bit until she came to see you, at which point you had no choice but to talk to her and explain EVERYTHING. You hoped that this conversation would further strengthen your bond. You took a deep breath and sat down across from her.

“I need to talk to you about something that happened a few days ago.”

You told her everything, from the accident with the files to the confrontation with House. Cuddy listened attentively, her expression growing more serious.

“House really crossed the line this time,” she said finally, anger evident in her voice. “I’m sorry you had to endure that, but next time, come to me about it.”

You nodded. “I don’t want to let his words affect us. I really care about you, Lisa.”

Cuddy smiled gently and took your hand in hers. "Me too, Y/N. Don’t let House make you doubt what we have."

The conversation with Cuddy gave you a renewed sense of determination. No matter what House said or did, you were resolved to fight for this relationship. With Cuddy and Cameron’s support, you knew you could overcome obstacles and continue building something beautiful and lasting.

In the following days, you felt stronger and more determined than ever. You continued to work hard, support Cuddy, and grow closer to her. Each moment spent together strengthened your bond, and you knew you were on the right path toward something truly special. The road ahead was still long, but with Cuddy by your side, you felt ready to face any challenges. You were determined not to let House’s cruel words bring you down and to keep moving forward, day by day.

Your relationship with Cuddy improved even more over the weeks. Conversations became more intimate, and shared moments grew more significant. During meetings and coffee breaks, you exchanged knowing glances that often spoke louder than words. Cuddy sometimes made thoughtful gestures, like bringing you your favorite coffee or carving out time in her busy schedule to chat. Cameron, true to her playful nature, never missed an opportunity to highlight these little moments. "So, did you have your daily tête-à-tête with Cuddy?" she would say with a mischievous wink. Each time, you would blush slightly, but you also appreciated these teases that made your feelings seem even more real and tangible.

One day, you found yourself confronting House in his office. The tension was palpable. House was particularly irritable that day, and you had heard about his ruthless behavior towards your patients, especially your cousin. Your cousin had come to the hospital with severe abdominal pain, and House, in a fit of personal anger and contempt, had delayed the necessary tests.

"You should behave better for someone who’s a total jerk. How could you let my cousin die without even trying to save him years ago just because you had a grudge against me?" you exploded, entering House’s office without knocking.

House looked up from his desk, a sarcastic smile on his lips. "Oh, so you’re here to mourn poor patients? What a charitable person you are! You’re here to blame me? Maybe if your cousin hadn’t been so stupid, he’d still be alive."

Those words were the last straw. You felt a searing rage rise within you. "How dare you? You don’t even know what you’ve done. You were so consumed by your own anger and selfishness that you didn’t even take the time to treat him properly!"

House stood up from his chair, his face hardening. "Your cousin was a hopeless case anyway. Maybe if he hadn’t been so weak, he would have survived."

You clenched your fists, your voice trembling with fury and pain. "My cousin was Cameron’s husband!"

The words thundered through the room, and only after they left your mouth did you regret it; you had promised to keep that a secret. House froze for a few seconds, his eyes widening in shock. For once, he seemed unsettled, as if a brutal truth had just hit him in the face. At the same moment, Cameron was passing by House’s office. She had stopped, hearing the raised voices inside. When she heard your declaration, she carefully opened the door, her eyes shifting from you to House, a silent pain on her face.

House quickly regained his composure, though his tone was sharper than ever. "Oh, I see. So you’re here to whine because your cousin didn’t survive? Newsflash, Y/N, people die. This is a hospital, not a fairy tale."

Cameron entered the room, her face pale but determined. "House, that's enough."

He turned his gaze toward her, a cruel smile on his lips. "Oh, look who’s joining the party. Are you here to support your grieving cousin? It’s touching, but he’s not coming back after all these years."

You felt tears welling up, but you refused to let them fall, and the urge to punch him was overwhelming. "You’re a monster, House. You have no idea what it’s like to lose someone so close because you’re a lifeless jerk whom nobody likes."

House shrugged, his expression indifferent. "Loss is a part of life, sweetheart. Get used to it, because I don’t sleep with my boss for bonuses."

Seeing you raising your arm toward House in anger, Cameron stepped in, grabbing you by the arm. "Come on, Y/N, let’s get out of here. He doesn’t deserve you getting worked up like this."

You left House’s office, still trembling with rage and sadness. Cameron embraced you, offering the silent support you desperately needed. You moved away from that place of conflict, leaving House behind with his arrogance and insensitivity. This painful confrontation further strengthened your bond with Cameron. She understood your pain better than anyone and shared your anger toward House. Together, you found comfort in each other’s support, growing even closer through this difficult ordeal.

Even though Cameron continued to have feelings for House despite learning about his refusal to treat her husband’s case, you both relied on each other. That evening, reflecting on the confrontation, you realized how much you cared for Cuddy and Cameron. Their unconditional support was an anchor in the storm of your emotions, and despite House’s cruelty, you were surrounded by people who truly cared about you. You took a deep breath, determined to continue fighting for your loved ones, to overcome obstacles, and not to let House’s nastiness destroy you.

The days following that confrontation were emotionally charged. The tension between you and House was palpable, but you could always count on Cameron for support. Interactions with Cuddy became even more precious, her smiles and soothing words helping to ease the weight of your emotions. Your relationship with Cuddy was deepening. One afternoon, as you were working in your office, you received a message from her: "Need a coffee break? Join me in my office."

You smiled and headed to her office. When you arrived, you found her seated with two cups of coffee and a box of macarons. "I thought we might need these treats to get through the day," she said, handing you a cup. You chatted about various topics, sharing anecdotes and laughter. Cuddy seemed more relaxed in your company, and you realized that these moments had become essential to you.

One evening, after work, Cameron invited you over to her place to talk. Sitting on her couch with a glass of wine in hand, she brought up a sensitive subject. "You know,Y/N, I’ve noticed that you’re getting quite close to Cuddy. It’s wonderful to see that, but I sense something is holding you back."

You looked down, hesitant to admit your repressed feelings. "Cameron, I... I think I have feelings for her, but I don’t know how to handle them. I’ve never accepted being a lesbian."

Cameron looked at you with compassion. "There’s nothing wrong with being who you are. You deserve to be happy, and if Cuddy makes you happy, you should tell her. Take your time, but don’t let fear stop you from living fully." You simply nodded, and the evening continued at her place until you fell asleep in front of a movie with her.

After a long day at work, you decided to go to Cuddy’s office to discuss some important points related to a file. Upon entering her office, you found her organizing papers, her focus on the work in front of her. The atmosphere was relaxed, and the soft lighting in the office created a pleasant ambiance.

You lightly knocked on the door before entering. "Hi, Cuddy. I had a few questions regarding our file."

Cuddy looked up, a smile forming on her lips. "Ah, Y/N. I always wonder why important questions seem to come at the end of the day."

You smiled and placed the documents on her desk. "Maybe it’s to give you a chance to test your multitasking skills."

Cuddy pretended to look outraged. "Oh, I see. So now I’m expected to juggle medical emergencies and your questions. Why not throw in some cannonballs while we’re at it?"

You laughed, appreciating the light tone of the conversation. "Well, you’re the hospital director. I suppose juggling cannonballs is part of the job description."

Cuddy rolled her eyes with a smile. "I guess I haven’t received that manual yet. But seriously, what’s the issue with this file?"

You took a deep breath and decided to make a slightly bolder comment with a touch of humor. "Well, I just wanted to check if your problem-solving superpower is as effective outside of the office."

Cuddy leaned forward, her gaze amused. "Oh, really? And what would my superpower be, according to you?"

You tilted your head with a mischievous smile. "You know, the ability to handle crises and make things simpler even when they seem impossible. But I have to admit, you might also be a coffee superhero, considering how you’re always full of energy."

Cuddy burst into laughter, shaking her head. "Oh, you're incorrigible. But if you insist, I suppose I should also accept the compliments on my ability to make the perfect coffee."

You nodded with a knowing smile. "Absolutely. I’m ready to give you a 10 out of 10 for your caffeine skills, in addition to your management talents."

Cuddy gave you a playful look before picking up a coffee cup from her desk. "In that case, it looks like I’ll have to make you a special coffee to reward you for your praise."

You thanked Cuddy with a smile, and the conversation took on an even more relaxed and friendly tone. Moments of teasing like this were becoming increasingly common, strengthening the bond between you. With her humor and kindness, Cuddy had become a key pillar in your daily life, making even the busiest days more enjoyable. The discussion continued in a light-hearted manner, filled with laughter and friendly exchanges. You left Cuddy’s office with a sense of well-being, ready to face the rest of the day with a smile on your lips.

A few days after the heartfelt conversation in the office, you both had taken a day off together. Cuddy had used the opportunity to invite you to her home, away from the constraints of work and regular responsibilities. It had been a while since you had the chance to spend an evening together without thinking about your professional obligations.

As you entered Cuddy’s house, you immediately felt a warm and inviting atmosphere. The interior was impeccably decorated with personal touches, creating an ambiance of comfort and tranquility.

Cuddy greeted you with a sincere smile, her presence radiating a soothing warmth. "Welcome to my home, Y/N. I’m glad you’re here. Make yourself comfortable; dinner is almost ready."

You settled at the table, where a homemade meal awaited you. The conversation during dinner was smooth and enjoyable, far removed from the usual work topics. You exchanged memories, funny anecdotes, and personal stories. Cuddy shared tales from her childhood, while you recounted amusing moments from your own life. Laughter filled the room, and the barriers between you seemed to dissolve with each passing moment.

Cuddy, in her role as the perfect host, was attentive and engaged. "Do you remember the time I tried to cook a meal for a birthday party, and everything ended up burning?" she asked, laughing.

You nodded with a smile. "Yes, I remember! I was there, and it was a complete disaster, but we had so much fun that night."

Once dinner was over and the dishes were put away, Cuddy suggested watching a movie. "I’ve heard that Die Hard is pretty good. What do you think?"

Your face lit up at the idea of watching a classic film. "Absolutely, I love that movie!"

Cuddy headed to the kitchen to prepare some popcorn, while you made yourself comfortable in the living room. She returned with a large bowl of popcorn and settled next to you on the couch. You both got cozy, and the relaxed atmosphere contrasted with the usual work tensions.

As you watched Die Hard, the film captured your attention with its thrilling action, suspense, and humor. Cuddy occasionally commented on the scenes, making amusing observations about the absurd situations and exaggerated characters.

"See that moment when he jumps through the windows?" she said with a laugh. "I’m sure we’ve all dreamed of doing that during a stressful day at work."

You burst into laughter, sharing her amusement. "Absolutely, and then there are always those moments where you wonder how they manage to avoid serious injuries."

You continued to comment on the movie, your rapport growing as the evening progressed. Laughter and playful banter made the night enjoyable and light-hearted, providing a welcome break from everyday concerns. When the film ended, you both remained on the couch for a while, discussing your favorite scenes and the funniest moments. The atmosphere was both relaxed and intimate, deepening the bond between you.

Cuddy got up to turn off the TV, then turned to you with a gentle smile. "I hope you had a good evening. I really enjoyed this time together."

You responded with sincerity. "I did too; it was a perfect evening. Thank you for inviting me."

She approached you softly and gave you a friendly hug. "I’m glad you came. I think we should do this more often."

You spent a little more time chatting before saying goodnight. As you left Cuddy’s house, you felt calm and happy, with a newfound appreciation for the growing connection between you. The evening had not only strengthened your bond but also deepened the budding feelings you had for each other. You sat in your car for a few minutes, reflecting on what you truly felt. The night had been perfect, but something crucial was missing for you to be completely at peace. Finally, you took a deep breath, got out of the car, and headed back to Cuddy’s door. As you rang the doorbell, you felt your heart race, each step bringing you closer to your truth. Cuddy answered, visibly surprised to see you return.

"Y/N, is everything okay?" she asked, her eyes showing both confusion and concern.

You hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. "You know, Cuddy… Lisa, I can’t leave without telling you something important. I… I love you more than just as a friend. I have feelings for you."

Cuddy looked at you attentively, surprise evident in her eyes. "Oh… I…"

"It’s been almost a year since we’ve known each other, and I can’t let this chance slip by, even if I’m not completely sure about embracing being gay," you continued, your heart pounding. "I’m willing to risk being rejected by you. I love you, Lisa Cuddy."

Cuddy remained silent for a moment, her eyes searching yours with intensity. Her face softened slightly, but her eyes remained serious. "Y/N, I want to believe you. But you need to be honest with yourself and with me. Are you really ready to face your own feelings?"

She sighed softly and placed a comforting hand on your cheek, her touch bringing a soothing warmth. "I just want to protect you, Y/N. So, be careful… okay?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and concern at her understanding. "Thank you, Lisa, for understanding my feelings."

Cuddy looked at you intensely, her eyes betraying a depth of emotion. "Y/N, you know I care about you… more than you realize."

Before you could react or say anything further, Cuddy leaned in slowly and kissed you. The kiss was both tender and intense, filled with the feelings you had both been holding back. You stood there for a moment, surprised and motionless, before responding timidly. Your hands instinctively found their way around Cuddy's neck, while her lips were comforting and burning with passion.

The kiss deepened, Cuddy intensifying it with a tenderness and fervor that expressed everything she had wanted to say without words. The sensation was both familiar and new, awakening complex emotions within you. Sensing your hesitant yet sincere response, Cuddy continued the kiss, trying to convey all she had never been able to express aloud. When you finally separated, you were breathing slightly heavily, your eyes shining with confusion and desire. With her forehead resting against yours, Cuddy whispered softly, "Think carefully about what you want, Y/N. I will always be here for you."

You felt torn between the familiarity of the gesture and the novelty of the emotions it stirred within you. Cuddy had opened a door to a new dimension of your relationship, offering both comfort and upcoming challenges. As you gently parted from Cuddy, you left the door open for deeper reflection on what you truly wanted, all while appreciating the sincere affection and patience she was showing you.

After the emotional kiss with Cuddy, you lingered on her doorstep for a moment, your mind full of confusing thoughts and conflicting feelings. You felt both comforted and unsettled by the depth of affection Cuddy had expressed, and the intensity of the moment continued to resonate within you. Cuddy, with a reassuring gesture, allowed you the time to process what had just happened.

The following days were marked by intense introspection. You spent a lot of time reflecting on your feelings for Cuddy and what they meant for you. The nature of your emotions seemed increasingly clear, but you still had to face personal questions about your identity and desires. While respecting your space, Cuddy made efforts to remain available and open. She sent friendly messages to check in and suggested informal get-togethers to discuss anything but your recent exchanges. These moments were light-hearted, allowing you to feel at ease while exploring your own feelings.

Despite the emotional storm in your personal life, work continued. You remained focused on your tasks, but it was inevitable that the tension between you and Cuddy became a topic of discussion outside the professional sphere. Colleagues and friends, including Cameron, noticed the change in your way of working and interacting with Cuddy, but you preferred to keep the details private.

One day, as you were working in your office, absorbed in preparing a file, House burst in, his usual nonchalant demeanor hiding a mischievous curiosity.

"So, how's it going with Cuddy?" he asked with a false lightness, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

You looked up, feeling a wave of discomfort. "I’d prefer not to talk about it, House."

House, unperturbed, continued. "Oh, I see. You're a bit smitten, aren't you? You know, there's something quite pathetic about desperately seeking approval."

Frustrated by his insinuations, you retorted, "And what does that have to do with you, House? Why are you so interested? You've never been able to maintain a decent relationship. So what do you really know about what I’m feeling?"

House, visibly amused by your reaction, crossed his arms and leaned slightly toward you. "Oh, I see. The truth bothers you. Maybe you need to remind yourself that you're nothing more than a mere pawn in the grand game of human emotions. And if you're looking for love advice, I might be the last person you should ask."

You felt a wave of anger rise within you, unable to endure his biting sarcasm. "You don’t know anything about me or what I’m feeling. Maybe you just enjoy playing the villain to feel superior. You don’t understand real emotions."

Despite his impassive appearance, House seemed slightly surprised by the intensity of your reaction. He took a step back, crossing his arms with a cynical smile still present on his face. "Oh, I see this touches you more than I thought."

He leaned in again, his eyes glinting with challenge. "Maybe I'm a bit too blunt for your taste. But don’t worry, I'm not here to judge you. I'm just here to remind people that the world isn't a warm and comforting place, no matter what they’d like to believe."

The intensity of the confrontation began to wane. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the internal storm. "Listen, House, I don’t want to continue this discussion if it’s going nowhere. I’m just tired of these word games and constant sarcasm. Maybe we should just forget this conversation and move on."

Seeing that the argument wouldn’t lead to anything constructive, House nodded with a smirking yet slightly more conciliatory expression. "Alright, I see you want to end this game. We’ll forget it. After all, it’s your right. But keep in mind that truths are often hard to accept."

You left House’s office with a sense of relief mixed with fatigue. The confrontation had been draining, but it had brought to light emotions and thoughts that you had kept buried. As you exited the hospital, you tried to relax, reminding yourself that sometimes the best thing to do was to let go and not be carried away by provocations. In the days that followed, the tension between you and House gradually dissipated. Although the clash left a certain bitterness, you continued to work together professionally. House, while still sarcastic and abrasive, seemed less inclined to push things further after the confrontation. Cameron and Cuddy, noticing the change in your mood and the impact of the confrontation, showed their support. Cameron, always attentive, made sure you were doing okay and offered moments of comfort.

The following Monday, you were still affected by the confrontation with House. Even though the conflict had ended on a more conciliatory note, it had left emotional scars. However, the week started on a positive note with the constant support of Cameron and Cuddy. Seeing their kindness and attention brought you relief. Cameron, always concerned for your well-being, suggested joining her for an outing to take your mind off things. You spent a pleasant evening together, talking and laughing, which helped lighten your spirit.

The following days were dedicated to reconciliation with House. Although his mannerisms remained sarcastic and sometimes abrasive, he seemed to have toned down his aggression after your confrontation. You continued to work together, but the atmosphere was slightly less tense. House, while staying true to his usual style, no longer pushed the provocations as far as he had before. On your part, you focused on your work, striving to maintain a professional attitude despite past tensions.

On Friday evening, after a busy week, you found unexpected comfort in joining Cuddy for dinner. She had taken the time to prepare something special for the two of you, and the evening unfolded in a soothing atmosphere. You talked about everything and nothing, avoiding work topics and focusing on your relationship. Moments of laughter and sharing strengthened the bond between you, momentarily making you forget the week’s stresses.

The weekend brought a new opportunity to deepen your relationship with Cuddy. She suggested organizing a special activity for the two of you. It turned into a full day of exploring a local market, sampling delicious foods, and enjoying light-hearted moments. The activity allowed you to discover more about each other outside the professional context and to strengthen your connection. You spent time strolling, discussing your dreams and ambitions, and supporting each other in your respective projects. This day reinforced the idea that you could be not only professional partners but also companions in life.

On Sunday, after a relaxing weekend, you found a moment for a more serious conversation. Cuddy, aware of the depth of your feelings, expressed her desire to understand and clarify what you both wanted from your relationship. You discussed openly your expectations and fears. Cuddy, always attentive and caring, encouraged you to be honest with yourself and with her. You talked about the potential challenges you might face and how to overcome them together. This discussion strengthened your connection, allowing you to establish a solid foundation for your budding relationship.

When you returned to work the following Monday, the atmosphere between you was imbued with a new harmony. You had managed to move past the tensions of the previous week and establish a deeper connection. The mutual support and shared moments had clarified your feelings and allowed you to envision a future together with more serenity. Although work remained demanding and sometimes stressful, your interactions with Cuddy were now marked by a deeper understanding and growing camaraderie. You could work side by side with a sense of mutual support, which improved not only your personal relationship but also your professional effectiveness.

The initial tension had dissipated, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and mutual support that was felt in every aspect of your life.

One Friday evening, after a particularly grueling day at the hospital, Cuddy invited you to her home for dinner. You had started spending more time together outside of work, but that evening had a special significance. Upon entering her house, you immediately noticed the warm and welcoming atmosphere she had created. The table was beautifully set, and the delicious smell of a homemade meal filled the air.

"I wanted tonight to be special," she said with a smile. "We’ve been through a lot lately, and I think it’s time to talk about what we really feel."

You nodded, feeling your heart race at the thought of this important conversation. You sat down at the table, sharing a delicious meal while discussing your lives, hopes, and dreams. The atmosphere was relaxed, and simply being in Cuddy’s presence made you feel at home.

After dinner, you settled on the couch with a glass of wine. Cuddy looked at you with an expression that was both tender and determined.

"Y/N, I care about you a lot. More than I realized at the beginning. And I think we should make our relationship official. Not just for us, but also for others."

You remained silent for a moment, letting her words resonate within you. You knew it was the right time to be honest and open your heart. "Lisa, I feel the same way. You've become an essential part of my life, and I want everyone to know how much you mean to me."

Cuddy smiled, visibly moved by your words. She took your hand in hers, squeezing it gently. "Then let's do it. Let's be together, officially. No matter what others think, we know what we want."

The following Monday, you decided to go public with your relationship. Arriving at the hospital, you both felt nervous but determined. Cuddy, as the hospital director, took the initiative to make the announcement during the weekly staff meeting. "Good morning, everyone. Before we start the meeting, I’d like to share some personal news. Y/N and I are together."

There was a moment of silence, followed by murmurs among the staff. Then, Cameron was the first to stand up and applaud, soon followed by other colleagues. Even House, though surprised, gave a wry smile, acknowledging the strength of your decision.

The person you thought least likely to be understanding spoke up. "Well, it was about time something interesting happened around here. Congratulations, you two." Cuddy looked at House after his words, wondering how much Vicodin he had taken, but he simply shrugged before leaving.

With the announcement of your relationship, you felt a huge weight lift off your shoulders. The reactions were mostly positive, and even those who were initially skeptical eventually accepted your love. Life at the hospital continued, but now you could be yourselves without fear or shame. The following days were marked by a constant stream of support from colleagues and friends. You received congratulatory messages, dinner invitations, and even small gestures from those who were happy for you.

One evening, as you held Cuddy's hand, you realized how much your life had changed since you had met her. The love you shared was not just a source of happiness, but also a force that pushed you to be better and face challenges together. You knew that obstacles would still arise, but as a couple, you were ready to overcome them. The official recognition of your relationship marked the beginning of a new era, where love, respect, and mutual understanding would be the foundations of your shared life.

After making your relationship official, the first few months were filled with moments of discovery and intimacy. You were getting to know each other on a more personal level, sharing quiet weekends, movie nights, and intimate dinners. Each moment spent together strengthened your bond.

To escape the hustle and bustle of the hospital, you enjoyed spending weekends at a small country house that Cuddy occasionally rented. These moments away from everything, surrounded by nature, were precious to both of you. They allowed you to relax and focus on each other, away from the demands of your daily lives.

She loved your sensitive parts, loved how you responded to the lightest touch with the most lustful moans, and how your skin prickled with goosebumps, a whine leaving your lips.

And then she kneeled on the floor, her palms caressing the bare skin of your legs, slow and light, until you could feel them on your thighs. "My love, lift your hips for me." You didn’t have to ask why because the moment you obliged, you felt her fingers hook the waistband of your shorts and pull them with ease.

Now exposed, you tried to bring your legs together to somehow conceal what was in between your thighs, but her strong hands parted them, a gasp falling from your lips. “Lisa.” You whispered, feeling the ache when her breath stroked the inside of your thighs. She was close, and you moaned. You had never been teased like this.

“Baby, please.”

“Keep it together, love.” It was cruel, but you knew she only meant you had to beg.

“Baby, I need you. Please.”

From where she kneeled, your center was vividly glistening, too aroused for her, and she took massive pleasure from how she could make you so wet without even touching you like you wanted her to. The thoughts were gone when you felt her weight dipping the bed again, and without preamble, you felt the tip of her tongue toying with the length of your slit, felt her hand directing your leg above her bare shoulder. She must have taken her robe off.

“Fuck!” you hissed, her lips wrapping around your clit, “Lisa...ahh—” it was a filthy, filthy moan that drove the woman crazy. “Baby—” your breath hitched, feeling her tongue enter your cunt. She had to keep hold of your hips from bucking, a tight grip that would bruise later.

Each movement of her tongue sent waves of pleasure through your body, your fingers tangling in her hair as she skillfully worked you. You could feel the pressure building, the need for release growing with each passing second. Her grip tightened, ensuring you stayed in place as she drove you closer to the edge.

“Lisa, please,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper.

Her response was to intensify her efforts, her tongue delving deeper, her lips and teeth grazing your sensitive skin. The sensation was overwhelming, pushing you to the brink of ecstasy. You could feel the tension coiling within you, ready to snap at any moment.

“Come for me, love,” she murmured against your skin, the vibration of her words sending you over the edge. Your body arched, a cry of pleasure escaping your lips as the orgasm washed over you, waves of pure bliss radiating from your core.

She continued her ministrations, drawing out your pleasure until you were left trembling, spent and satisfied. Slowly, she withdrew, planting gentle kisses on your thighs as you came down from your high. Your breathing slowed, the aftershocks of pleasure leaving you in a state of contentment.

“Lisa,” you breathed, your voice filled with gratitude and affection.

She smiled up at you, her eyes warm and loving. “I love you,” she said simply, her hand caressing your cheek. You reached down, pulling her up to join you on the bed. “I love you too,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around her. In that moment, everything felt perfect, your connection deeper than ever before. As you lay there, holding each other, you knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey together.

And it continued, except that her behavior changed over time. You never would have thought she was jealous until the day a nurse made advances toward you in front of her. You couldn't blame the nurse, as he was new and didn't know yet. That evening, however, she made it clear that you were HER'S.

This time, Lisa decided to take control completely. Her eyes were dark with desire as she commanded, "Strip."

Your hands trembled slightly as you removed your clothes, standing vulnerable before her. She watched every movement with an intensity that made you shiver. Once you were fully exposed, she guided you to the bed, her touch firm and authoritative.

"Lie down," she instructed, her voice leaving no room for hesitation.

You obeyed, lying back on the bed as she climbed on top of you, her knees straddling your waist. Her eyes bored into yours, a smirk playing on her lips. "You belong to me tonight," she whispered, her voice sending shivers down your spine.

Without warning, she grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head. The dominance in her actions made your breath hitch, your body responding instantly to her control. "Don't move unless I tell you to," she ordered, her tone brooking no argument.

She leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as she spoke. "You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this," she murmured, her breath hot against your skin. "How much I’ve wanted to have you completely at my mercy."

You could only moan in response, the sound muffled by the intensity of your own desire. Lisa’s hands roamed over your body, her touch both gentle and commanding. She knew exactly where to touch, where to tease, and where to press to elicit the most desperate moans from you.

Her lips followed the path of her hands, kissing and nibbling at your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When she reached your breasts, she paused, looking up at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Do you want me to touch you here?" she asked, her fingers hovering just above your nipple.

"Yes, please," you breathed, your voice barely a whisper.

She chuckled softly, her breath warm against your skin. "Good," she said, finally lowering her mouth to take your nipple into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the sensitive peak. The sensation made you arch your back, a cry of pleasure escaping your lips.

She continued to tease and torment you, her mouth and hands working in tandem to drive you wild. Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, she pulled back, her eyes locking onto yours. "I want to hear you beg for it," she said, her voice low and commanding.

"Please, Lisa," you moaned, your body aching with need. "I need you. Please."

A satisfied smile curved her lips as she finally moved lower, her fingers trailing down your abdomen to your thighs. She spread your legs wide, her eyes drinking in the sight of your arousal. "You're so wet for me," she murmured, her voice thick with desire.

Before you could respond, her mouth was on you, her tongue lapping at your folds with an intensity that made you cry out. Her hands held your hips firmly in place, preventing you from bucking against her mouth. The pleasure was overwhelming, building with each flick of her tongue and each gentle bite.

She knew exactly how to push you to the edge, bringing you to the brink of orgasm before pulling back, leaving you gasping and trembling. "Not yet," she said, her voice a tantalizing tease. "I want you to beg for it."

"Please, Lisa," you pleaded, your voice desperate. "I need to come. Please."

Her response was to redouble her efforts, her mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony to drive you over the edge. When you finally came, it was with a cry of her name, your body writhing under her skilled touch. She didn’t stop until she had wrung every last bit of pleasure from you, leaving you spent and satisfied.

As you lay there, catching your breath, Lisa moved to lie beside you, her hand gently stroking your hair. "You did so well," she murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "You’re mine, remember that."

You nodded, a contented smile on your lips. "I'm yours," you whispered, your heart full of love and trust for the woman who held you so completely.

On day at the hospital could be particularly exhausting, but this Thursday felt different. Lisa Cuddy had received a box of chocolates from a grateful patient, and without suspecting their content, she had eaten several. A few hours later, she began to feel an intense heat and agitation that she hadn't anticipated.

Early in the afternoon, you were in her office discussing a current case. Cuddy, visibly uncomfortable, asked you to close the door behind you. "Y/N, I don't know what's happening, but I need your help," she murmured, her cheeks flushing under the aphrodisiac's effect. You approached her, concerned, but as soon as you were within reach, she grabbed your hand and pulled you toward her.

"Lisa, what are you doing?" you whispered, your heart pounding. She looked at you, her eyes shining with desire. "I… I can't wait any longer," she murmured, her fingers slowly unbuttoning your blouse. You let her, mesmerized by her urgency. Her lips found yours in a fervent kiss, her hands exploring your body with unchecked passion.

You found yourself seated on the edge of her desk, your clothes scattered around you. Cuddy, still in control, pulled a small device from her drawer. "Look at this," she said with a mischievous smile. She activated the remote-controlled vibrator and slipped it between your thighs, securing it in place with a strap. You shivered at the sensation, your muscles clenching involuntarily.

"Lisa, here? Now?" You couldn't believe what was happening. She nodded, her fingers pressing the remote. The vibrator began to hum softly, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, your fingers gripping the edge of the desk.

Cuddy stood before you, her gaze fixed on you with a devouring intensity. She increased the toy's power, and you felt yourself on the verge of losing control. "You like this, don't you?" she murmured, her fingers caressing your face. You could only nod, unable to form a coherent response.

She played with the settings, alternating between gentle vibrations and intense pulses, pushing you to the edge. Each change in rhythm brought you closer to ecstasy, and you found yourself silently begging for more release. Cuddy, seeing your state, lowered the remote to give you a moment of respite.

"Do you want to come for me, Y/N?" she asked, her voice soft but authoritative. "Yes, Lisa, please," you panted, your body trembling with anticipation. She smiled and increased the intensity again, finally pushing you over the edge. You felt yourself explode into a million fragments of pleasure, each wave of bliss overwhelming you.

Breathless and dizzy, you collapsed onto the desk, your limbs weak and trembling. Lisa turned off the vibrator and gently removed it, her hands caressing your soothed thighs. "You were wonderful," she murmured, placing a tender kiss on your lips. "Thank you for helping me."

As you caught your breath, you realized how much this experience had strengthened your connection. Though you had never imagined such a situation at work, you felt closer to Lisa than ever.

After that intense afternoon in Cuddy's office, life took on a new, exciting rhythm. You and Lisa navigated your relationship with a mix of professional decorum and private passion. The boundaries between work and personal life became more distinct, yet somehow more intertwined. The weeks following that day saw both of you finding a balance between your responsibilities at the hospital and your deepening relationship. Cuddy, always the consummate professional, ensured that your interactions at work remained appropriate. However, the stolen glances and subtle touches were enough to keep the flame of your relationship burning. Your evenings together became the highlight of your day. Cuddy's house transformed into a haven where you could both unwind and be yourselves. You shared dinners, cooked together, and enjoyed quiet nights in, watching movies or discussing your day. Cuddy's favorite moments were when you read to her, your voice soothing away the stress of her day.

Whenever you both could afford the time, you took weekends away from the city. Whether it was a secluded cabin in the mountains or a cozy beach house, these trips allowed you to connect on a deeper level. Away from the demands of the hospital, you explored each other’s interests and dreams, strengthening the bond between you. With each passing month, you found yourself opening up more about your past and your feelings. Lisa, too, shared stories of her journey, the struggles she faced as a woman in a high-powered position, and her fears and hopes. This mutual vulnerability brought you even closer.

At work, your dynamic remained strong and professional. Your colleagues respected your expertise and dedication, and House, despite his occasional barbs, seemed to accept your relationship with Cuddy. You often found yourself working closely with Lisa on difficult cases, your combined skills and insights making a formidable team. As your relationship grew, the question of moving in together naturally arose. After several months of discussing and planning, you decided it was time. The transition was smooth, a testament to how well you complemented each other. Lisa’s home became your home, and you both enjoyed creating a shared space filled with love and laughter.You often talked about the future, both personal and professional. Lisa’s support encouraged you to pursue further specialization in your field, and you, in turn, were her biggest cheerleader in her ongoing efforts to balance her career and personal life. You dreamed of more travel, maybe even adopting a pet, and continuing to build a life filled with shared goals and mutual respect.

Of course, there were challenges. Balancing two demanding careers and maintaining a relationship wasn’t always easy. There were times when stress from work would spill over into your personal life. But each challenge was met with patience and communication. Your ability to work through problems together only strengthened your relationship. Your relationship had a positive ripple effect on those around you. Cameron often commented on how happy you seemed, and even House, in his own way, acknowledged the stability you brought to Cuddy's life. The respect and affection you shared became a quiet inspiration to others in the hospital, showing that a loving, supportive partnership was possible even in the most demanding environments.

In the end, what you built together was a relationship based on trust, respect, and deep affection. Lisa Cuddy and you became each other’s confidant, lover, and partner in every sense of the word. Your journey was just beginning, but it was clear that whatever the future held, you would face it together, hand in hand.

Everything was going quite well until you decided to take a week off to focus entirely on Cuddy. The hospital was struggling, but you knew it would improve as usual. However, Cuddy, still stressed by the situation, was unaware that you had planned this time off specifically for her. That morning, as usual, you woke up early to prepare breakfast. Cuddy arrived, gave you a tender kiss, and told you she loved you before rushing off to eat, get ready, and go to work.

Shortly after her departure, you were distracted by knocks at your door. Maybe Cuddy had forgotten something? When you opened the door, you were surprised to see House standing there with his usual air of arrogance. You sighed, knowing he wouldn’t leave you alone. You let him in and turned back to continue tidying up the kitchen after breakfast.

House casually settled into a chair, his eyes gleaming with calculated interest. "So, how's it going with the manipulator?" he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm but also with undisguised curiosity.

You turned to look at him, exasperated by his early morning intrusion. "What do you want, House?" you replied, trying to keep your frustration in check as you continued with your chores.

"Just a little chat to pass the time," he said, shrugging. "I was wondering how things are going with the big boss. She must really be a master manipulator to get you to drop everything, even your job, for her."

You felt your anger rise sharply. "Cuddy isn’t manipulating me, House. I’m taking this time off to help her relax a bit. The hospital is going through a tough period, and she’s carrying all the weight on her shoulders."

House rolled his eyes with feigned exasperation. "Oh, of course. Poor Cuddy, tormented by her job. And you, the saint, there to save her every step of the way. Maybe she’s just using you for her emotional and professional needs. Maybe she sees you more as a temporary fix to her problems than as a real partner."

This remark made you boil with rage. "You don't know anything about our relationship, House. Cuddy and I support each other. What we have is real, and it's not something you could understand."

House leaned forward, his gaze becoming more incisive. "Maybe I don't understand. Or maybe I see things you're refusing to see. But be careful, because sometimes the people we trust the most are the ones who betray us the most."

You stared at him with determination, refusing to give in to his provocations. "Cuddy would never betray me. And I won’t let anyone, especially not you, come between us. I love her, and I hope she'll become my wife someday."

House raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed by your resolve. "Well, good luck with that," he said as he headed for the door. "Don't forget that I warned you." With those final words, he left, leaving you alone in the kitchen, your thoughts swirling in your head.

Shortly after his departure, you felt a gentle hand resting on your shoulder. You turned around to see Cuddy, who had forgotten her bag. She looked at you with a tender smile and gave you a light kiss. "I'll talk about this tonight," she said before kissing you again and walking away.

You stood there, alone, with mixed thoughts and emotions, waiting for the evening when Cuddy would return to discuss everything that had happened. After a particularly stressful workday for Cuddy, you prepared for an evening that would be both soothing and revealing. Having taken time off to focus on her, you had done everything to create a warm and intimate setting. The kitchen smelled of homemade dishes, candles created a soft glow, and light music floated in the air.

When Cuddy came home, you waited eagerly. She entered, visibly exhausted but happy to find a calm and comforting environment. As she dropped her bag and approached you, a tired smile lit up her face.

"Wow, you really went all out tonight," she said, taking in the ambiance you had carefully prepared. Her eyes settled on you with gratitude and affection. She pulled you into a hug, and you felt a wave of comfort as you held her close.

"I wanted it to be special," you replied softly. "For both of us."

You sat down at the table for dinner. The meal you had prepared was simple yet delicious, with dishes that seemed to bring a touch of warmth and comfort. As you ate, Cuddy talked about her day, the pressure she felt at work, and her concerns about the hospital. She shared her frustrations and worries, revealing how exhausted she was from the challenges she faced.

You listened attentively, offering words of comfort and showing sincere empathy for her difficulties. "It must be really hard to carry all that weight on your shoulders," you said. "But I'm here for you, and I want you to remember that we’re a team. If you want, I can even give you a massage."

After dinner, you settled on the couch, the atmosphere now imbued with tranquility and warmth. Cuddy snuggled against you, and you felt a deep connection growing between you. She took a deep breath before beginning to speak.

"You know, I’ve done a lot of thinking today," she said, her gaze drifting into yours. "And I realize how much I need you in my life. I don’t want misunderstandings or obstacles to come between us. What we have is precious to me."

You took her hand in yours, looking at her tenderly. "I feel the same way, Lisa. I’m ready to do whatever it takes to make our relationship work. Even in the face of challenges, I’m confident that we can overcome them together."

Cuddy smiled, her eyes lighting up with sincerity. "I love you deeply, and I want us to remain honest with each other while supporting one another."

The conversation continued, filled with promises and commitments for the future. You discussed your hopes, fears, and dreams with renewed openness. Every word exchanged strengthened the bond between you, and you felt more confident in the solidity of your relationship.

By the end of the evening, as you settled in to relax, Cuddy snuggled against you. You spent the night in a sweet embrace, finding comfort and joy in each other's presence.

Finally, it was Friday, and you had planned a lot of activities for the weekend. The sun was beginning to set as Cuddy came home after a long day at work. You had spent the day preparing something special for her, hoping to offer her a moment of relaxation and relief from the tensions at the hospital. As you heard the front door open, your heart raced with anticipation of what you had planned for the evening.

Cuddy walked into the room, visibly tired but with a grateful smile upon seeing you. "Hi, honey," she said, approaching you for a kiss. "How was your day?"

"Very good," you replied with a smile, a glimmer of excitement in your eyes. "I’ve prepared something special for you tonight. Will you follow me?"

Intrigued, Cuddy followed you to the bedroom, where you had transformed the space into a sanctuary of relaxation. Soft, soothing candlelight flickered around the room, and a subtle lavender scent floated in the air. On the bed, carefully arranged accessories awaited, signaling the BDSM session you had prepared.

Cuddy raised an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on her lips. "Oh, I see you’ve been very busy," she said, her voice tinged with curiosity and desire. "And what’s the special occasion for all this?"

You took a deep breath, determined to offer her this experience with all the love and respect you felt for her. "I wanted to thank you for everything you do, for your hard work and dedication. But more than that, I wanted to give you the chance to let go, to release all the stress you carry."

Cuddy looked at you with tenderness, touched by your gesture. "You’re really amazing," she murmured, before kissing you passionately. "I trust you to guide me tonight."

You began by gently blindfolding her, taking care to explain each step of the process. "I’m going to guide you through this experience. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, just say the safe word, okay?"

Cuddy nodded, her breath already quickening in anticipation. "Okay," she murmured.

You began by gently securing her wrists to the bed with velvet cuffs, ensuring they were comfortable yet tight enough to restrict her movements. Then, you picked up a soft leather flogger and started to caress her skin with it, testing her reaction before delivering light strokes—enough to create a sensation but not excessive pain. Each stroke was followed by a kiss on the reddened skin, alternating between tenderness and firmness, creating a sensual dance between pain and pleasure. Cuddy moaned, getting lost in the sensations, her breathing becoming more erratic.

"You look so beautiful when you let go," you whispered in her ear before picking up a remote-controlled vibrator. "I’m going to keep playing with you, but I want you to tell me how you’re feeling at every moment."

Cuddy nodded, her voice trembling with desire. "I feel... alive. Keep going, please."

You turned on the vibrator, placing it gently between her legs before activating the vibrations. Cuddy’s body tensed, a moan escaping her lips. You alternated the intensities, playing with the rhythm to keep her excitement at its peak without letting her reach climax too quickly.

"You like this, don’t you?" you asked, your voice low and sensual.

"Yes... yes, I like it," she responded between moans, her body trembling with pleasure.

The evening continued in a delicate dance of domination and submission, each gesture and word deepening the connection between you two. When you sensed she was ready, you increased the intensity of the vibrator, guiding Cuddy toward a powerful orgasm that left her breathless, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure.

You gently untied her, removed the blindfold, and held her in your arms, offering soothing words and gentle caresses. "Thank you for trusting me," you whispered into her hair.

Cuddy looked at you with eyes still glazed with pleasure. "Thank you for this unforgettable moment. I feel so much better, so loved."

You remained entwined, savoring the softness of the moment and the depth of your connection, knowing that this experience had further strengthened your love and mutual trust.

You had booked a weekend at a luxury hotel with a spa, jacuzzi, and all the amenities for maximum relaxation. On Saturday morning, after Cuddy had woken up, you greeted her with a mischievous smile.

"Pack your bags, darling, after breakfast," you say, kissing her tenderly. "We're going away for a relaxing weekend."

Cuddy looks at you, surprised but delighted. "Oh really? Where are we going?"

"You'll see," you reply with a wink. "But get ready to be pampered."

After breakfast, you hit the road, leaving behind the worries of the hospital. Upon arriving at the hotel, Cuddy is awestruck by the beauty of the place. The entrance is grand, with lush gardens and soothing fountains. You check in quickly and head to your room, a luxurious suite with breathtaking views of the mountains.

"Wow, this is gorgeous," Cuddy murmurs, impressed. "You've really thought of everything, haven't you?"

"Nothing is too good for you," you reply, hugging her. "Now, let's go enjoy the spa."

You change into fluffy robes and head down to the hotel spa. The atmosphere is serene, with soft music playing in the background and the subtle scent of lavender floating through the air. You start with a relaxing couples' massage, where expert hands work out all the tension from your bodies. The essential oils soothe your minds, and you both feel completely at ease.

After the massage, you head to the private jacuzzi. The warm water and bubbles soothe your tired muscles, adding to your relaxation. Cuddy settles against you, her head resting on your shoulder, a peaceful smile on her lips.

"This is exactly what I needed," she murmurs. "Thank you, darling."

"I knew you needed it," you reply, gently stroking her hair. "You work so hard. You deserve to unwind."

You spend a long time in the jacuzzi, enjoying the warmth and each other’s company. You chat about everything and nothing, letting the bubbles carry away your worries.

In the evening, you dine at the hotel restaurant, savoring a delicious meal paired with exquisite wines. Cuddy is radiant, her eyes shining with happiness and gratitude. "I couldn't be happier," she says, looking at you tenderly. "You make everything so special."

"Because you are special to me," you respond, raising your glass for a toast. "To us and many more moments like this."

The rest of the weekend continues in the same vein of relaxation and joy. You enjoy the pools, saunas, and long walks through the hotel gardens. You laugh, kiss, and take care of each other, further strengthening your bond.

Returning home, you both feel rejuvenated and ready to face the challenges ahead. Cuddy thanks you repeatedly for the perfect weekend, and you are happy to have given her this moment of peace and happiness.

“We should do this more often,” she says as she falls asleep in your arms on the first night back home.

“Yes, we should,” you murmur, a smile on your lips. “I love you, Lisa.”

“I love you too,” she replies softly, and with that, you both drift off to sleep, ready to face whatever the future holds together.

The last evening of your weekend unfolds in a peaceful, loving atmosphere. However, the return to reality looms, bringing with it the pressures and responsibilities you both face. On the evening of your last day off, the mood is slightly tense. Cuddy seems preoccupied, likely already thinking about the challenges awaiting her at the hospital.

As you have breakfast together, you try to reassure her. “You know, everything will be fine at the hospital. We have a great team, and we can handle it together.”

Cuddy gives a faint smile. “I know, but there’s so much to manage. The finances, the new projects, the daily issues. Sometimes it’s just… overwhelming.”

You understand her stress, but you also need to share your own concerns. “I understand, Lisa, but you also need to learn to delegate. You can’t do everything on your own.”

She looks at you, slightly irritated. “It’s easy for you to say. You don’t understand the pressure I’m under as the director.”

Your tone becomes firmer, feeling the injustice of her words. “I know very well what it’s like to work under pressure, Lisa. I’m here for you, but you also need to accept help.”

The rest of the morning is marked by growing tension. You prepare in silence for the return home, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words and accumulated frustrations. During the drive back, you try to initiate some light conversation, but Cuddy responds with one-word answers, clearly still preoccupied.

Once home, the situation finally erupts. “Why can’t you understand that I need support, not criticism?” Cuddy exclaims as she enters the living room.

You turn to her, arms crossed. “I’m not criticizing you, Lisa. I’m trying to help. But you never let me in; you always want to control everything.”

"And you think you could do better?" she retorts, anger in her voice. "You have no idea what it's like to run a hospital."

"Maybe not, but I know what it’s like to manage a relationship," you reply, frustration rising. "And right now, you're not letting me be a part of your life the way I want to."

Cuddy remains silent for a moment, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm sorry, it's just… so hard. I'm afraid of losing everything."

You approach her, softening your tone. "We're a team, a couple, Lisa. You're not alone. I'm here, by your side, no matter what. But you have to let me help."

She nods, tears finally streaming down her face. "I know, I'm sorry. It's just that sometimes, everything becomes too overwhelming."

You embrace her, feeling the tension start to ease a little. "We’ll get through this together, okay? But we need to communicate and support each other."

Cuddy nods, cuddling into you. "I promise to make an effort. Thank you for being here for me."

You spend the rest of the day calmly talking, reaffirming your commitment to each other.

After that intense argument and the subsequent reconciliation, you and Cuddy decided to take concrete steps to improve your relationship and lighten the load of responsibilities. True to her promise, Cuddy began delegating more tasks to her colleagues, learning to trust her team. She also agreed to attend therapy sessions to better manage her stress. On your side, you made an effort to be more present and create relaxation moments for both of you. Every weekend, you set aside time for activities together, whether it was a simple walk in the park, a romantic dinner, or a movie night at home. You discovered new shared passions and rekindled those you had neglected.

One evening, after a particularly successful day at the hospital, where the finances were finally starting to improve and a new project was underway, Cuddy came home with a radiant smile. You greeted her with a glass of wine and a carefully prepared dinner.

"I have a surprise for you," she said, her eyes sparkling with joy and mischief.

Intrigued, you followed her into the living room, where she had prepared an envelope adorned with a red ribbon. You opened it carefully, discovering two tickets to a dream destination you had always wanted to visit together.

"I think we deserve a well-earned vacation, this time with no stress and no obligations," she said with a smile.

The days leading up to your departure were filled with excitement and joyful preparations. You discussed everything you wanted to do and see, already imagining the memories you would create together. Upon arriving at your destination, you immersed yourselves in a tropical paradise, savoring every moment together. The days were filled with adventures and discoveries, while the evenings were reserved for moments of tenderness and intimacy. On your last evening, as you watched the sunset on the beach, Cuddy took your hand in hers.

"You know, this year has been tough, but it’s also taught me what truly matters," she said.

You nodded, feeling the emotion rise. "Yes, it’s taught us to support and love each other more deeply."

Cuddy smiled and pulled a small box from her pocket. Opening it, you discovered a beautiful ring. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me, Y/N?"

With tears in your eyes, you answered without hesitation. "Yes, Lisa, I will."

You kissed, your hearts beating as one, savoring this moment of pure happiness. You knew that the road ahead would still be long and filled with challenges, but together, you could overcome anything. Your love was stronger than ever, ready to face the future with hope and determination.

And so, hand in hand, you embarked on this new chapter of your life, with the certainty that nothing and no one could ever tear you apart. After this event, you understood why you had given the necklace to your wife. From the beginning, the clue had been right before your eyes—why you thought of her when you saw the pendant. The same color as her eyes.

[the-hopeless-haze]

Worried About You

Chapter 4 of If You Want It, You Can Bleed On Me (House x reader)

“I need Vicodin,” Greg says to you, walking into your office. Well. Your office when you were here. You scowl slightly at the day-old coffee in your line of vision and think about how you’ll be scolded by the other people you share the office with the rest of the week when you inevitably forget that it’s there.

“Funny. I’m not your dealer,” you say.

You and Greg had hit it off, so to speak. Much to everyone’s chagrin and surprise, you continued seeing each other inside and outside the hospital. It wasn’t something either of you spoke about. Psychiatrists (or psychiatric doctors of nursing) are the worst patients and the best repressors. You did what you had to to be able to function like a member of society, but you were as fucked up as the rest of them. And you see Greg is similar. USA-renowned, if not world-renowned, diagnostician—but that was all he had besides a bum leg and a healthy dose of chronic depression and reliance on opiates to function.

When you finally had sex -heterosexual sex, dick in pussy sex - it was a frenzy fueled by alcohol and weeks long of teasing, and you saw glimpses of his leg in the midst of it and he saw the scars scattering your arms, but beyond the “oh, so you tried to kill yourself” he said to you when he edged you on the brink of orgasm the umpteenth time (and oh, boy, was that a mood killer) there were no comments about either.

But he kept you around and you weren’t entirely certain of why. It’s only been a month or so, and he’s not calling you his girlfriend or telling you he loves you, but he’ll still wine and dine you before railing you. And you don’t know if it’s out of obligation, if he feels like even though you’re not a hooker he has to pay you for sex, or if he genuinely enjoys your company. You think about how dissimilar you are to Wilson and how that’s the only person he keeps close. You wonder if maybe you remind him of his live-in ex that you’re almost certain he never got over. It’s a good time though, regardless. You make each other laugh. You both love The Rolling Stones. You begrudgingly agreed to be dragged to a monster truck show one night (“Wilson won’t come with me” he whined) and in return you made him go with you to see a local band perform that he wasn’t the slightest bit interested in.

It was that sacrificing that made you pretty close to a real couple. Wilson pointed it out to you and he no doubt pointed it out to Greg. You made a snarky comment about his marriage and you wonder if you should compare notes with Greg to make sure you’re both not using the same lines.

You don’t know why you keep him around either, so it’s fair. It’s nice to have a fuck buddy, you suppose, and it’s also nice to almost like them as a human being rather than a sex toy. It’s certainly not because you think you can cure him, because you know you can’t. You wanted sex and you didn’t want a rehash. All things considered, he was a thorough lover and cared about getting you off as much as himself, which somewhat surprised you given how selfish he can be in other settings.

It’s not a bad arrangement. At least not right now.

But you’re fucked and you know it. It’s why you were drawn to work with kids in the first place. At least you’d always have a leg up on them. Someone out there thought you were sane enough to be rent an apartment and be a licensed prescriber.

Oh. Speaking of.

“Come on. You have a license to prescribe. Just once,” he begs.

“Yeah. No. I think you’ve got me confused with Wilson.”

“You’re much hotter,” he offers.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“It got you in my bed.”

You smirk, shaking your head. “Yeah. Fair. But that’s as far as it’ll get you. You can be lackadaisical with your license, but I’d like to keep mine until I want to retire.”

“How’d I get with such a goody-two-shoes? Even Wilson will play.”

“He’s not now, apparently. What gives?”

“I bet Cuddy clinic hours that I wouldn’t take Vicodin for a week. They’re all convinced I’m an addict.”

You snort. “Okay. I hate to point it out so bluntly, but this is prime behavior for addiction. Searching all channels to get a fix because you can’t go a week without it?”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Okay. I’m going to do the week. But I need someone on standby. I’m only doing the week, and I don’t know that I’ll be able to get it prescribed afterward.”

“Chronic pain is outside my scope of practice. Best I could do is a suboxone MAT and say I’m detoxing you off Vicodin and keeping your substance use in check, but even that’s pushing it. There’s a conflict of interest.”

“You can’t keep the clinical and the personal separate?”

“Nope. Could you? If I was your patient this week, would you be able to? Bringing your ex-girlfriend into this is what got you into this mess. Don’t bring me in to try to fix it.”

“I’m not asking you to fix it. And you have a medical background. I’m asking you to write the order I’m asking for. I know how to manage my pain.”

“Why don’t you get through this week first? Then maybe you’ll take me up on the suboxone,” you say, crossing your arms.

“You think I’m addicted?”

“Jesus Christ, Greg, you’re smarter than this. You know what happens if you consistently take opiates. I know you need them for pain. I’m not denying that. But to think you’re immune to the side effects? It’s habit-forming. You know this. You’ve been taking it for years. You’re going to have withdrawal symptoms. You should be doing this in a detox facility if anything.”

“I work in a hospital. Opiate withdrawal never killed anyone, anyway,” he says, seeing no point in bluffing to you any longer.

“Maybe not. But you’ll suffer. I’ll meet you halfway, hm?” You say, looking up at him. “I’ll prescribe you comfort meds for the week. Ease you through it. Mirapex, vistaril, zofran, clonidine, bentyl…”

“Most of those aren’t exactly in your scope. If you want to be technical.”

“If I lose my license for any of those the board has far too much time on their hands. But you’re right. I’ll get Chase to sign them off.”

“Chase?”

“He’s the most desperate to get laid out of the three. I bat my eyelashes enough he won’t even question who the scripts are for.”

“Chase? Look at him. If he’s not getting laid none of us should be.”

You scoff. “I guess pretty boys do it for you, but not for me. But no…I can tell. He reeks of desperation.”

“It’s desperation to be liked by authority. Not desperation for pussy. He’s swimming in it.”

“Okay. We’ll see if he folds,” you say, winking.

Greg sighs. “Is this some kind of game?”

“What isn’t, with you? It’s all games, it’s all puzzles.”

“Why Chase?”

“I told you. I know you’d rather me go to Cameron, but unfortunately, I don’t think flirting would get very far with her. Foreman will never fold.”

“You don’t have other doctors you work with you could ask?”

“Greg, it’s just fucking comfort medications that you probably will have too much pride to even touch. Again. Not risking my career for you and letting people that actually respect me think I’m a nutcase because I slept with you.”

“So… you want to fuck Chase. Right?”

“Where in that insecure little man brain did you think of that? It’s your other head, right? I must want the sexy Australian because all the other girls are doing him? Because I want to ask him to prescribe meds? For you?”

He shrugs. “Matter of time. ‘Oh, I had to blow him, that’s the only way I could get him to do this’ or ‘oh, honey, good news, he said if I sleep with him three times a week he’ll prescribe your Vicodin’.”

“Stop with the immature bullshit. If I wanted to fuck him, I’d just leave you, not worry about the meds, and do it. Grow up, Greg,” you mutter, walking away.

“Then why don’t you?” he challenges, hating himself as the words leave his mouth, hating how unattractively juvenile he was coming across. But there were reasons, the need to push you away to see if he would get pulled back, the need to be contrary, the need to know. Know what, exactly, he’s not sure.

He already knows he’s in for one of the worst weeks of his life. Even if the withdrawal symptoms are mild, he’s going to be in terrible, unmanageable pain, and all the Tylenol and Motrin in the world aren’t going to even come close to touching it. And he’s going to be more miserable than usual. No pain relief. No euphoria from the high when he takes just one… or two… or three extra than he needs. He knows he’s addicted. He tries to roll it off his back, saying it doesn’t matter, it shouldn’t change perceptions of him, it’s something he needs for pain, and it doesn’t affect his ability to practice medicine.

But sometimes he’s afraid. When James looks at him in concern but doesn’t offer any solutions because there aren’t any real ones, are there? He needs opiates for pain. Nothing else will work. Whether it’s pure heroin or your gold-standard synthetic hippy bullshit medication-assisted treatment… it’s still an opiate. Naloxone embedded in the pill or not. Having to go to a clinic to get dosed and having to have checks and balances on his use or not. It’s still an opiate. There’s still a stigma. It still pinpoints his pupils, lowers his respiratory rate, and hopefully, hopefully, takes the edge off so he can function but he knows. Addiction isn’t his specialty, he never wanted it to be, but he knows. One day it’ll be his last Vicodin, or the Vicodin won’t work anymore, and hey, you know what’s instantaneous? Spinal morphine. Can only use that card once or twice, have to tell Wilson he’s in excruciating pain and guilt him into enabling. He’ll only go so far. And then…well, then it’s IV heroin or fentanyl, whichever is easier to get, whichever is cheaper.

Greg knows that addiction treatment centers are revolving doors. He knows that you saw the same people back and forth and back and forth sign in and sign out, sign in and sign out. Change their medication plans a million times. And some of them still died anyway.

He’s afraid. He’s afraid of dying by his own hand by accident, alone and blue, nodding off forever. Sometimes he wishes for it, an end to the pain, but he also doesn’t want people to find him like that. A predictable end to a predictable story. World-renowned diagnostician died the same way a poor broke junkie did on the streets. Hooked on drugs, overshot it.

And it’s not that he thinks he’s better than those people. He knows he is those people. Even prior to his disability he dabbled in drugs, never enough to create a habit but enough to definitely indicate the potential of a problem. He’d tried almost every illicit substance “just to see how it felt” by your age. It feels good. Drugs feel good. It’s how they work. And your brain wants to feel good. It’s how they keep working and you keep using.

He knows. He’s in a vicious cycle he’ll never claw his way out of.

And you know it, too.

And yet you’re wasting your time fighting with him instead of walking away.

Why?

He doesn’t know that.

“Yeah. Why don’t I fuck him?” you snark back, turning on your heel and walking back toward him, drawing him out of his pity party and back into the misery he created for no reason other than to drag you down with him, make you choke on it with him. “I don’t want to. That’s why. I want to fuck you, although believe me, that thought is getting less and less appealing every time you open that fucking mouth and speak.”

“It does have better uses,” he quips, shrugging, almost visibly relaxing at hearing he was chosen, that he hadn’t scared you off yet.

You roll your eyes. “When does the detox start?”

“Now. It’s been a couple of hours.”

“So you wanted to kick it off and try to put both of us in a shitty mood to start with? Not your brightest idea, huh?” you ask.

He doesn’t say anything and you nod, feeling slightly more in control now that you rendered him silent without any arguments. “Go home. You can’t think clearly if you’re going to be actively detoxing.”

“I still have to make them think I can function without it,” he says after pausing. He would’ve lied to you too, put up a façade with you too, but that’s the thing about addiction. It’s easy to hide dependence to people who don’t know what to look for, but you do. And you would smell it on him.

“I thought you didn’t care what people think?”

“I don’t.”

“Then why take the bet at all?”

“I’ll get out of clinic hours.”

“Right. You would never do something like this to prove a point,” you say sarcastically, leading him out of the office. —————- “Why are you with him?” Chase asks. “And you care enough about him to ask me to use my medical license for a script.”

“You’ll see I don’t care enough about him to risk using mine,” you counter. “It’s comfort meds. Just write the scripts and I’ll leave you alone and we can go back to never talking, which is honestly how I prefer it.”

“I’ve done nothing to you.”

“Right,” you mutter. “I’ve heard enough, though.”

“Does he… what does he say about me?” he asks, a look between bewildered and terrified crossing his face.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Forget I said anything. You’re fine, I’m sure, I just don’t want to be entangled in the team. I already work with Wilson. One facet of House’s life needs to be separate from me.”

“Right. So you’re asking me to prescribe him medications.”

“As a doctor. Which is your job,” you point out. You sigh, looking at the pretty blond man sitting in front of you. Maybe Greg was right to be afraid. Most women your age would be begging to spread their legs at the thought of carrying this man's children. He's more stable, at least comes off that way, and he doesn't have an addiction and a crippled leg.

“Why stay with him if you know he’s an addict?”

Why are you staying?

You look at him for a second, reading his face. “You hate people that struggle with addiction, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say I hate them. I just think they don’t realize the pain they cause and it’s unfair to the sober people in their life.”

“Everyone is someone’s burden,” you say.

But why did you take him on?

“So you think he’s going to detox.”

“I know he’s going to detox. Which is why. Once again. I’m asking you to prescribe him comfort medication for the aforementioned detox.”

“You guys really like each other, huh?”

Why did he take you on?

“No. I want my week to not be miserable. This might lessen it a little bit.”

“Oh, and you’re deflecting just like he would.”

“Just prescribe me the damn meds, Chase.”

“You’re going to be miserable anyway,” he says, shrugging as he takes out his script pad. “You owe me one.”

You know he's not wrong.

“Yeah. You’ll get a psych consult on the house,” you agree.

“Why’d you ask me?”

You sigh. “Can’t ask Wilson. Too close. So it had to be one of you three. Foreman just wouldn’t. Cameron would ask me too many questions and she’d tell everybody.”

“And me?”

“Process of elimination, really. Thank you, you know," you say, deciding to leave out the part where he gets off on sucking metaphorical dick for the chance at appealing to authority. Sometimes you wish you were as crass as House. You come up with some good ones if you could only find the guts to just say them.

“He’s not going to take them.”

“Probably not. But I’m doing my part.”

“As what? His girlfriend?”

“His… friend,” you clarify, and you walk out of the office with the scripts in tow to fill at the pharmacy. Later you hand them to him and he takes them without a word. He opens all the bottles, takes one of each pill in his hand and he pops them dry. Terrible for his esophagus, you tell him, and he mutters something about how he’s wrecked his liver and everything else has to catch up. He opens a bottle of wine and you lean against his chest, barely processing the cheap soap opera flashing in front of you on the TV. He's already sweating, you can feel his shirt damp against your cheek. You don’t know why you’re here. You don’t know why he made a show of taking all those pills in front of you. Maybe to show your efforts were appreciated without having to say the words, even if he thought it was stupid. Maybe it was a desperate attempt to make this all suck less. Maybe it was because this was bending the rules a little, a detox with help, however minor, and he always wanted to see how far he could push before the consequences could roll in. Let’s cheat a little. Instead of a slice of pizza on a diet let’s have a hydroxyzine in a cold turkey detox.

He asked you to come over tonight but he hasn’t said much of anything or initiated much either. Why does he want you here? To know he’s not alone this time, that you’re willing to face the brunt of this pain with him when it returns, like Stacy was unwilling to?

You don’t know.

You don’t want to know. It’s best he keeps that information in his own head where it belongs. You don’t want to get too attached, too close, too entangled. This is fine how it is.

But you still wake up drenched in sweat that isn’t yours.

[devotioncrater]

"i'm not gonna say anything. i'm just gonna walk into her office and i'm gonna kiss her"

now why tf did house look down at his desk and start stammering and blushing after wilson said that 🤨 "cuddy likes bold" but he does too ??? arguably more than her ???

wait no pause. actually. that entire conversation he's soooooo hyperfocused on what wilson would do. almost as if he's envisioning himself in cuddy's shoes. he also like. keeps looking at the table, looking at wilson, looking at the table, looking at wilson with an expression that's expectant. he thinks wilson will connect the dots. holy shit.

he wants wilson to connect the dots. but he can't...he can't admit it to himself. so he role plays as cuddy. he hides behind this made-up, fabricated version of reality where wilson's got a crush on cuddy. it's perfect because the only other likely person wilson would go see that play with is cuddy.

after the play, house asks for the dirty details yet 1) gets frustrated at wilson for not sticking to house's own script of Going On A Date To A Play = Sex. and then 2) gets jealous at the thought of wilson having sex after the play with the real cuddy instead of him.

there's mixed, complex feelings written all over the wall here. on one hand, house wants wilson to fall into bed with cuddy because that means that by extension from fabricating this entire thing, wilson is actually falling into bed with house who is merely role-playing as cuddy. fantasy gaga. "i'll miss you. you were a good friend." = the nature of our relationship has changed.

HOWEVER on the other hand, house can't stand the thought of wilson falling into bed with cuddy because it'd be Too Real, Too Literal. it'd be wilson having real sex with the real cuddy and — because this is wilson here — it'd be wilson having a real romantic relationship with the real cuddy. notably not with house. it'd completely fuck the fantasy up.

but house is too far gone and also likes to fuck around and find out. he knows wilson's a hopeless romantic, so he sends wilson flowers in cuddy's name. wilson interprets this as cuddy being sexually interested, which pleases house because he is sexually interested in his boy best friend.

house is overly invested in hearing what wilson's plan is to ask cuddy out after wilson says he doesn't know what "being straight" is. they're on two different wavelengths where house thinks wilson's read between the lines to figure out it was house, not cuddy, this whole time. ergo to him, wilson's "i don't know what that [being straight] is" = i'm interested in you too and i recognize that cuddy is a metaphor; i'm now knowingly playing into it.

meanwhile wilson is literally talking about the real cuddy.

house becomes clearly aroused flustered at the thought of wilson barging into cuddy's office to wordlessly kiss her. house enjoys the way wilson approaches sex & romance differently than him. i think a part of him wants a grand romantic gesture like what wilson described. "i can't stop thinking about her" / "maybe she's right. maybe...maybe this is worth exploring."

and the funny thing is, is that the office wilson does barge right into is house's office.

"you sent those flowers to me!" "yes, because you took her to a play. because actually you do want to march down there and kiss her." "no! i don't!" "yes, you do."

it's just a prank, right? it's just a retaliation, right? calling it a prank or retaliation is a rationalization to deny away how house's attraction is boiling over. he wants to explore things with wilson, wants to get rid of the "good friend" label, but he's way! too! repressed! at least to initiate it outright. so he concocts this convoluted thing just to get wilson to make the first move because, historically, wilson holds the reins in their relationship. they also, historically, work their boundaries out through pranks. why should this situation be any different?

and wilson has this look of slow, frustrated realization before he says, "you're right" because he knows house. wilson is now in on the metaphor, so he admits that he does want to kiss metaphor cuddy.

but when house's face falls, "seriously?" wilson goes right back into The Status Quo "no" because as soon as the metaphor became Too Real, Too Literal, it shook house out of it thanks to his jealousy. that, and maybe wilson — Dr. Comphet himself — got cold feet, too.

they're ships in the night. when one of them is in on the metaphor, the other isn't. house knows how to woo wilson, wilson knows how to woo house. and yet they can't!!! ever!!!! admit it at the same time!!!! house pulls on a push door; wilson pushes on a pull door; the door doesn't open

[charliedawn04]

Secret Santa :

A Doctor House x Reader story part 2

(A lot of people asked for it. I delivered. 😁)

Dr House had tried to find you again, but you had succeeded in remaining hidden from him ever since your last encounter. He would say he was impressed, if it didn't leave him extremely frustrated. It almost seemed that you had the power to stay invisible. It was you who decided to come to find him at the end, at the request of Dr Cuddy who was tired of Dr House pestering her about you.

Unfortunately, it was a bad time to reappear, as Dr Cuddy had refused Dr House all of his requests to leave work early this week and he rolled his eyes when he saw you.

"Oh great ! Dr Cuddy sent me her domestic poodle to help me. What are you going to do ? Bark at me ? You're not even a real doctor. You're just an extra-cash baby-sitter." He snapped at you. Your smile hurt your cheeks as you tried to hide your annoyance and remain polite.

"Now, Dr House. I won't allow you to insult me. I am a pediatrician. Yes. But, I am also as much a doctor and a human being as you are." You pointed out and Dr House rolled his eyes.

"Oh great. Do I get bonus points if I act like I care ?" He came into your personal space and dared thrust the handle of his cane in your chest. He then leant forward, so close you could actually see the anger in his eyes. "…Or, are you going to run away from me again, miss coward ?

Okay. That was the last straw. You grabbed his cane and tripped him up with it. He seemed shocked for a second before you glared down at him. Your eyes were unforgiving and even though House was no saint, he had to admit your look was rather impressively intimidating.

"I am a certified pediatrician who spent more than 6 years in a shitty medical school to become an underpaid employee at a hospital where the only good doctor is also the hugest douchebag I've ever met in my life...I will NOT let you insult me. Or undermine me. Wanna make yourself useful ? Do your damn job, and stop wasting my time." You seethed. Dr House and his whole team were stunned at your outburst and you knelt before him before telling him what Cuddy had told you. "Also, from now on whenever you’ll have a complaint to make, you'll have to refer to me. Dr Cuddy is extremely busy and she doesn't have the time to speak to you about your 'breaks' or about our little conflict."

Dr. House glared up at you, his expression a mixture of shock and anger. Nobody had ever had the guts to call him out like that before, especially not a 'pediatrician' who was supposed to show him respect and gratitude for the privilege of working with him. You smiled at his wide eyes and dumbfounded expression. You then stood back up before sending a glance towards his trainees who had been smart enough to remain a step away from the obvious tension-filled situation between you and House.

"Careful. There's a step. And it bites." You told them before glaring one last time at Dr House. You then purposefully stepped over him to walk away. He waited until you were out of view before smiling and crawling to get back his cane.

"I like her..." He voiced out loud and the three med-students behind him sighed in unison before Cameron said with a hint of exasperation in her voice.

"Of course you do…"

House looked back at Cameron and his other trainees with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

"What ? I do. There's nothing wrong with enjoying a good fight once in a while, isn't there ? You could learn a thing or two from her, too."

His other two students, Chase and Foreman, exchanged a skeptical look between them but didn't comment further on House's statement.

Later that day:

You had heard an earful from Dr Cuddy about the "situation" between you and House. It had ended with a long monolog on the need for a good relationship between co-workers and even though you had no intention to apologize to the man, Dr Cuddy deserved it. She had put up with House for years without losing her cool. You could hold on for a few seconds...You hoped.

You knocked at his door and waited a few minutes before sighing. Obviously not here.

Welp. You tried.

You turned around to leave when the elevator rang and the doors opened to reveal Dr House. You both seemed to be surprised upon seeing each other, but Dr House then looked at the buttons on his right and you didn't need a magic crystal ball to know exactly what he was thinking of doing.

"Don't…" you instructed him, but he only looked back at you with a small smirk before pushing the closing button of the elevator.

"Oops." He said before waving you goodbye, but he didn't expect it when you suddenly darted forward to jump inside the elevator before the doors could close. You panted loudly before glaring up at House who was holding tight on his cane, as if he was expecting you to take it again—which made you feel a little bad.

House and you stood there in silence for a few moments, both panting slightly from the sudden rush of adrenaline. The tension was palpable, and House couldn't help but feel a sense of amusement at having successfully tricked you into being alone with him in an elevator.

He raised an eyebrow at your glare, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Well, well, well. Look who's come back for round two."

You closed your eyes and sighed. You knew you had to swallow your pride this time around…

"I...I wanted to apologize." You uttered when your breathing was back to normal and Dr House seemed surprised. Now, House had been expecting a lot of things that night, but receiving an apology from you was not one of them. He turned towards you to find you staring at him and tilted his head—searching for the reason you would be apologising.

"I would love to gloat, but I'm afraid I have no idea about what part you are apologizing for exactly ?"

You stayed silent for a moment until you clarified.

"I...tripped you. It was neither professional, nor a good way to show good will so..." you took a big breath before repeating your earlier attempt at an apology. "I'm sorry, and it won't happen again."

Dr House seemed to finally realize what you were apologizing for and was about to answer when the doors opened and you noticed you were both still on the same floor. You sighed when Dr House walked past you to get to his office. You followed him and he let the door open for you to enter his office. He walked a straight line to the coffee machine and while he was making it work, you gave a quick glance around. No pictures. No portraits. Only medical books and other studies or old TV shows on the subject.

You couldn't help it and quickly made a psychological profile.

Hermit by the way he was snapping at his own co-workers. Workaholic with his impressive collection of works on the medical field. Detached, as he made sure not to bring two cups for the coffee he was making, probably because he didn't have one—or didn't see you as important enough to get you the other one he owned. No current relationship by the cruel lack of any personal belonging other than his cane and mug.

"Don't apologize for something I liked." He finally replied while his eyes slightly creased in amusement. He was still still near the coffee machine—struggling to get it working. Your eyes widened as you tilted your head quizzically at him.

"...What ?"

House grunted in frustration as he continued to fiddle with the coffee machine, trying to get it to work. He knew it was a battle he was losing, but he refused to give up.

"What ?" he repeated. "What isn't clear about 'don't apologize for something I liked' ? I enjoyed our previous encounter as much as you did, if not more. You made my day more entertaining than it usually is."

You frowned in incomprehension and House noticed. He sighed and sat down in front of you.

"Look at me. What do you see ?" You arched an eyebrow, but still did as he asked and gave him a good once over.

"A very infuriating overconfident man with a lot of personal issues." You told him frankly, but it didn't make Dr House any less happy about it. He liked frankness.

"You don't see a cripple." He finally told you and his answer made your eyes grow wide in surprise and he must have seen the confusion in your eyes as he clarified.

"When you tripped me, you didn't think about the fact that I was a crippled and feeble old man. You thought 'let's put that bastard back into his place'. This is why I'm not upset." He then seemed to think about something else before adding with a light teasing smirk. "Also, I like when women put me in my place. If you ever find the urge to 'sweep me off my feet' again ? Don't hesitate."

He winked cheekily at you and somehow, a grateful smile drew on your face. You thought you had somehow succeeded in finding a deeper side to Dr House, but he had to bury it under sarcasm and very bad flirting to deflect it. You rolled your eyes and stepped out, but a smile still appeared on your face when you were sure he couldn't see you. He was an arsehole. But, he was also a good guy it seemed...

House leaned back in his chair, looking very pleased with himself. He couldn't help the small glimmer of self-satisfaction that crept into his expression as he watched you turn to leave. He had a feeling this 'apologetic' visit would not be the last time you and he would cross paths.

He took a sip of his coffee, wincing as he swallowed—the machine had managed to brew it so weak, it was almost like hot water. House sighed and reached for his cane, knowing that he had a long night of pain and case files ahead of him.

A few days later :

Yeah...No.

Scratch that.

Dr House was every bit the annoying smarty-pants know-it-all you had made him out to be.

You had found a way to stay away from Dr House at lunch and it involved volunteering to the children's aisle for story time. He wasn't comfortable around people—and especially children. You had to see him wait for you at the door and bit down on your lower lip in order not to burst out laughing as he was standing there, obviously waiting for you to finish so he could complain to you about his after-hours and ruin your lunchtime.

Until one day…

"Miss Y/N ! Who's that ?!", one of the children asked you and you were about to answer that he was a doctor, but quickly reconsidered. You then had an idea as you saw multiple of the kids staring back at House. They seemed to be in a staring contest, until Dr House stuck out his tongue at them and some laughed. He then turned away and pretended to be occupied with a medical article he had surely found in the waiting room. You leant forward to answer the child with a small mischievous smile.

"This is Dr Hugs. And he LOVES hugs, isn't that right, honey ?!" Dr House who hadn't followed the conversation hummed absent-mindedly—unaware of the multiple pairs of curious and sparkling eyes on him now. The time he had caught up with your words, it was too late.

"Wait...No. Nononono !" He tried to protest, but he was suddenly surrounded by a dozen of children, holding onto him while giggling and who eventually made him fall backwards under their weight. You sighed and stood up to leave, letting Dr House at the mercy of the children. He raised a hand above the swarming form of little hands and arms to reach out to you.

"Dr Y/N ! Get back here this instant !" You pretended not to hear him and laughed before making your way to the coffee room.

"Thank you so much for replacing me during my coffee break, House !"

"Y/N !" He shouted one last time, but you closed the door behind you.

House growled as he sat on the floor, surrounded by dozens of children who had latched onto him with their chubby little hands. If hell had a feeling…that was it for House. He struggled against the weight of their bodies, trying desperately to fight his way out from underneath them without hurting them. One cheeky little kid had even climbed onto his back, making it nearly impossible for House to move…He had to fight to free himself and escape.

5 minutes later :

Dr House slammed the door of the coffee room with such force, he startled everyone in the coffee room but you. He was quite a sight to see with his hair disheveled, clothes in a disarray from the gripping and grabbing of little hands and his eyes screaming bloody murder as they finally settled on you. You had never seen anyone trudge so fast with a cane before and when he stood before you, you raised your eyes innocently at him with a small smile.

"What's the matter, House ? Did the little ones cause you trouble ?" You took another bite of your sandwich and it tasted a thousand times better now that you knew Dr House would never come to your work space again.

However, you didn't think he would be so mad as to slap the sandwich off your hands. You momentarily mourned your beloved sandwich, but quickly returned to the furious doctor above you. He suddenly leaned forward and his eyes stared at you with such intensity, you could hear his teeth clench in frustration.

"You. Are. Insufferable." He spelled each word carefully, as if they would make any more of an impact on you if uttered slowly. He then grabbed your arm and your chest made contact with his sturdy one as he pulled you up.

"If it's a war you want, I'll make sure to make your life hell." Your smile faltered slightly at the way his eyes were so wide, you could actually see each careful streak of his pupils. He was dead serious, and you wondered for a second if you had gone too far ?

"Listen, I..." You tried to tell him—but he interrupted you.

"Don't. Don't apologize when you don't mean it. Lying makes you look ugly." He then left without another word and you knew you should have felt bad about torturing him, but you couldn't help it. It was just too tempting. You bit your lower lip in order not to laugh as you spotted a colorful drawing of a flower at the back of Dr House's neck. You knew that the nice thing to do would be to tell him, but you had never pretended to be nice. Instead, you only sighed and picked up your half-eaten sandwich to drop it in the trash.

House stalked back to his office, muttering under his breath about the insufferable woman who had dared to leave him in that hell room. He felt utterly humiliated and pissed off—a combination that was never a good thing. He sat down in his chair with a thump, still muttering to himself. As he did, he noticed a strange feeling on his neck. He reached back and found a piece of paper stuck to his skin.

He pulled it off and his eyes widened as he saw the colorful drawing of a flower. He immediately recognized it as a drawing made by one of those devilish little children who had pounced on him in the pediatric waiting room.

House's face darkened in anger as he thought about you and your role in this whole disaster. He crumbled the paper in his hand and leaned back in his chair, trying to calm down. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling of humiliation. He was a brilliant doctor, a legend in his field—and he had been brought down by a couple of kids and their i sufferable caretaker.

He crumbled the piece of paper in his hand.

This. Was. War…

A few days later :

It was almost strange. You had received no complaints about House for days now and when it was usually you who tended to avoid him, it seemed he had put in the extra effort this time. You hadn’t heard a squeak from him—not even to ask for more days off. It was…quiet. Too quiet.

Dr House was in your teaching room—the one you used to talk to the children or teachers cane to give them lessons.

He had a thousand of paper planes and you already knew what he was planning. You sighed.

House grinned as he carefully folded more paper planes, his fingers working expertly to create the perfect aircraft. He had spent hours cutting out colorful pieces of paper and meticulously working them into the perfect shape, and now he had a veritable army at his disposal.

When he glanced up to see you enter the room, that mischievous gleam was back in his eyes. "Ah, Y/N. Just the person I was hoping to see."

You glared at him warningly

"This is my work place, House."

House chuckled as he finished folding a paper plane and began testing its flight stability. "Ah, but Y/N," he said, his voice laced with a hint of mock sadness. "I was just looking for some company. Surely you wouldn't deprive a cripple of some much-needed human interaction, would you ?"

You were about to reply when the children came in for their lesson of the day.

As the children entered the room, their eyes widened in surprise and excitement at the sight of the paper airplanes. They immediately ran towards them, snatching them up and launching them into the air.

House watched on with a smirk, clearly pleased with his impromptu distraction. He turned to you, his eyes mischievous and his face betraying his triumph.

You glared at him once more.

"You…"

House grinned back at you, his expression smug and victorious. "What's the matter, Y/N ? Are you upset that I managed to bring a touch of fun to your boring lesson ?"

As the children continued to chase each other around the room, launching paper airplanes and screeching in excitement, House leaned back in his chair and chuckled.

You turned around to write sentences on the board, but you then felt a paper plane land against your back. You immediately turned back towards Dr. House.

He sat there with a look of casual nonchalance, but his eyes betrayed a hint of amusement.

"What ?" he said, feigning innocence. "You didn’t think I would simply sit by and watch without participating in the fun, did you ?"

You rolled your eyes before looking at the children.

"Come on, children. The lesson is starting now. You will be able to play later."

The children groaned in disappointment but reluctantly put their paper planes back onto the table before taking their places around it to start the lesson.

House sat there with a smug expression, clearly relishing in his little victory. He knew he had managed to disrupt your lesson, even if only for a few minutes.

You turned towards the children.

"So…today we will start with each of you telling me how you are feeling."

The children perked up at this, happy to engage in the activity.

One child spoke up eagerly. "I feel happy."

Another child raised their hand. "I feel excited."

And so it went for a few minutes, with each child taking a turn to share their emotions. However, as the last kid was speaking, House suddenly interjected.

"What about boredom, though ?" he asked, looking directly at you. "Surely someone must feel bored."

You shot him a sharp look, but a few children nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I’m bored," a little girl said.

"Me too," another child chimed in.

You sighed, frustrated at House’s constant attempts to derail your lesson.

"How about we play a game. You will each have a card with an emotion on it. And you will have to play that emotion to your neighbour. Without showing him or her your card, got it ?"

The children nodded eagerly at this, excited to try a new game. You handed each child a card with an emotion on it—there were joy, sadness, anger, disgust, fear, and surprise. Once everyone had their cards, you gestured for them to begin.

As the children began playing their emotions, their faces twisted into exaggerated expressions that brought laughter to the room. However, House, who had been watching the game with a critical eye, suddenly stood up and interjected.

"This game is utterly meaningless," he said. "What's the point of expressing emotions if they're not genuine? These cards are nothing more than a surface-level representation of real emotion. It's like trying to capture the essence of a person by looking at their social media profile."

You glared at him.

"It is an exercise, House. Those kids need to have a laugh and express themselves. Now sit down and zip it."

House grumbled but reluctantly returned to his seat, muttering under his breath about 'ridiculous games' and 'waste of time'. However, the children had not noticed his interruption and continued to play the game, laughter filling the room once more.

You smiled until Dr. House decided to make his presence known once more…

"MISS ! MISS ! QUESTION !" Dr House raised his hand like a child and you held back from rolling your eyes

"Yes, House." You replied—restraining a heavy sigh.

"HUM...I WANT TO GO POTTY, COULD YOU PLEASE HELP ME ?!"

You rolled your eyes and shook your head in disbelief.

"You're a big boy, House...I think you know how to find the bathroom on your own."

He exaggerated a pout.

"But…I need urgent assistance."

You rolled your eyes and couldn't help the smirk that spread across your face. House was clearly up to something.

"What kind of assistance ?" you asked, trying to hold back a chuckle. "Do you need me to hold your hand and aim for you ?"

House looked at you with mock outrage. "I'll have you know that I have excellent aim," he said, feigning a wounded look. "And I don't need your hand-holding, though I suppose I could use an escort to make sure I don't end up in the ladies' room."

The children snickered at the exchange between you and House, clearly entertained by the shenanigans.

You shook your head, trying to keep a dignified expression. "Very well, House," you said, pretending to be serious. "I will escort you to the restroom. Just try not to cause any mischief on the way."

House grinned victoriously as he stood up, leaning heavily on his cane. The children giggled at the sight of the grumpy doctor being escorted to the bathroom.

You looked back at the children.

"Keep playing and then, we’ll have a drawing session."

The children nodded and returned to their game.

You led House to the restroom, taking care to support him with your shoulder. He limped heavily on his cane, though you sensed his exaggerated limp was likely for show.

House feigned innocence as he hobbled along beside you, his cane clacking on the floor.

"I simply needed your assistance, Y/N," he said, his voice laced with mock sincerity. "You should be honored to be the one chosen for such a sacred task."

The children couldn't hold back their giggles, watching the scene unfold before them.

As you reached the restroom and helped House inside, you rolled your eyes once more. "Oh how gracious of me to be honored with this privilege," you said sarcastically. "Now hurry up and do your business, House."

You waited outside, leaning against the wall, trying to contain your annoyance and amusement.

Several minutes went by and you started to get impatient. "House, are you okay in there ?" you called out, wondering what on earth he was doing in there. Was he really just using the restroom or was he up to something again ?

"Almost ready," House called back through the door, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. "Just a minute."

After what felt like an eternity, the door finally opened and House reappeared, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He gestured for you to follow him. "Come on, Y/N. I need a hand with something."

You glared at him warningly.

"House…"

"Don't worry, Y/N," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of playfulness. "This isn't a prank, I promise. I just need some help with my leg. It's been bothering me more than usual today."

You raised an eyebrow, unable to tell if he was being genuine or not. Knowing House, it was just another way to make fun of you. You started walking away.

As you turned to leave, House suddenly winced and let out a cry of pain. He stumbled, his cane clattering to the ground as he clutched his leg.

"Y/N, please—" he gasped, wincing from the pain. "I really need your help. I'm not faking it this time."

You looked back at him, torn between your skepticism and your sense of obligation to help. Maybe it was a genuine pain, or maybe it was just another one of House's tricks. But either way, you couldn't just leave him there, could you ?

You sighed and got back to him, kneeling beside him.

"Okay okay…Show me."

House let out a groan as he pointed to his left thigh. "It's just throbbing," he said through gritted teeth. "I think it's because I pushed myself too hard today."

You gently ran your fingers over his leg, feeling for any signs of swelling or discomfort. As you did, you couldn't help but notice the way House stiffened at your touch. It was a small but noticeable reaction that seemed to betray a hint of vulnerability beneath his usual gruff exterior.

You started stroking the area and sighed.

"Do you take medication ?"

Dr. House gritted his teeth, clearly trying to hide his pain. "Yes, I do, but it's not enough sometimes," he admitted. "The painkillers help, but they don't completely take away the pain."

"And no," he added, anticipating the next question. "I'm not addicted to vicodin."

You frowned at him.

"I…wasn’t gonna say that."

You blinked twice.

"Are you ?"

House looked at you with a mixture of surprise and annoyance.

"No," he snapped. "I may be in pain, but I'm not some junkie looking for his next fix. I take what I need to function, but no more than that."

He pushed you away, clearly irritated by your question.

"I don’t see why it matters anyway."

You frowned.

"It matters cause those things ain’t always good. Side effects and whatnot…"

Dr. House rolled his eyes.

"Spare me the lecture," he grumbled. "I know all about the side effects of the painkillers. I've been dealing with them for years. But the thing is, the pain is worse without them. So I have to make a choice - deal with the pills and their side effects or deal with unbearable pain every single day."

You sighed before sitting down next to him against the wall.

"…What happened ? To your leg…"

House looked at you for a moment, contemplating whether or not he wanted to share the story. Finally, he relented.

"I had an accident a few years back," he said, his voice soft. "I was hit by a car while I was riding my bike. My leg was shattered and they had to do several surgeries to try to put it back together."

He winced at the memory, the pain and the trauma still fresh in his mind. You hummed and lolled your head to look at him.

"…Just between us. I ain’t got nothing against cripples. I know how my first reaction might have been misleading but…"

House raised an eyebrow at you, surprised by your sudden show of kindness.

"No insults about my cane ? About my limp ?" he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Color me surprised, Y/N. What happened to the girl who loved to torture me ?"

You grinned.

"She took a walk."

House smirked back, appreciating your quip.

"A walk ?" he asked, his voice layered with sarcasm. "You took a walk and now you're suddenly a saint ? Miracles do happen.”

He leaned back against the wall, his expression softening a bit. "Look, Y/N. I may be crippled, but that doesn't mean I want pity. I'm the same old House, no matter what my leg looks like."

You scoffed.

"Yeah. Arrogant. Grumpy. Pain in the ass…I know."

House grinned at your remark, appreciating your honesty. "You forgot brilliant, genius, and the best damn doctor this hospital has ever seen."

He stretched his leg out slightly, wincing at the pain. "But you're right about the arrogant and grumpy part, I guess."

You grinned and chuckled.

"…Nah. If anything I’d attack you on your age."

House scoffed at your joke, his ego clearly touched by the comment.

"Oh please, Y/N," he said, rolling his eyes. "You think my age matters ? I'm like a fine wine, baby. I only get better with age."

He struck a cocky pose, clearly enjoying the banter. "I've got decades of experience under my belt, and I can still run circles around any of those young whippersnappers."

You rolled her eyes and closed your eyes as you leant your head back against the wall.

"…Run. Right."

House chuckled, knowing fully well the irony of his comment.

"Okay, okay," he said. "Maybe not 'run'. More like limp, hobble, or possibly even crawl."

He let out a deep breath, his cocky facade slipping slightly.

"But the point is, I may be older, but I've got the brains and the wisdom to make up for it."

You grinned.

"You got smarts. Yeah. But wisdom ?"

House raised an eyebrow at your skepticism.

"Of course I have wisdom," he said, his voice tinged with indignation. "I've seen and experienced more than most people will ever see in their entire lives."

He gestured to himself, emphasizing his age and his position as a doctor. "I've been a doctor for decades, Y/N. I've treated patients, made life-saving diagnoses, and solved some of the most complex medical mysteries this hospital has ever seen."

You tilted your head to look at him.

"And yet…You still aren’t satisfied."

House's expression darkened slightly, recognizing the truth in your statement. He sat in silence for a moment, contemplating whether or not to delve deeper.

"You're right," he finally said, his voice husky. "Despite all the successes and accomplishments, there's still something missing. It's like a void within me that can't be filled."

He let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders dropping as he spoke. "I don't know what it is. Maybe it's fame, wealth…or just the thrill of solving puzzles."

You hummed and House chuckled bitterly.

"But maybe the problem is me, Y/N," he said, his voice tinged with self-deprecation. "Maybe it's in the nature of my character to never really be satisfied. Perhaps I'm always chasing after the next big thing, the next challenge, without ever stopping to appreciate what I have."

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration and uncertainty palpable.

"You have a child ? Some say that you get satisfaction out of that…" You suddenly asked. It took a moment for you to realise that he probably didn’t. "Right…Stupid question."

House chuckled grimly, grateful for the distraction from his dark thoughts.

"No, no children," he said, his voice tinged with a bittersweet note. "No wife either. Can you see me as a family man, Y/N ? Settling down with a cute little house and a white picket fence ?”

You shrugged.

"Maybe. Some really mean bastards got themselves a woman…Everything’s possible."

House laughed at your remark.

"You’re not wrong," he said, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "Some real bastards do manage to find love and settle down."

He gestured to himself. "But me, I'm a different breed. I'm not made for that whole family-life thing. My relationships are like my patients—transient."

"Weren’t you and Cameron a thing at some point ? Or you and Cuddy ?" You asked.

House rolled his eyes, remembering his past romantic entanglements.

"Cameron…we had a fling. It was short-lived and ultimately pointless." he said, his expression hinting at a hint of regret. "And Cuddy — that was an on-again, off-again disaster. Our relationship was like a rollercoaster with more lows than highs."

He shrugged, his expression guarded. "What can I say ? I'm not good at relationships."

You grinned.

"Shocker. Who wouldn’t like that prickly personality of yours ?"

House glared at you, his grumpy exterior momentarily revealing a hint of amusement.

"Oh, please," he retorted. "My prickly personality is just part of my charm. People love a challenge, right ?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly not deterred by your teasing. "Besides, who needs relationships and all that messy emotional stuff when I've got puzzles and medical mysteries to solve ? That's where the real fun is."

You nodded before standing up.

"Guess so. Now if you’ll excuse me, I got the children to go back too. My patients."

House stood up too, leaning on his cane for support.

"Don’t let me keep you," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. "Those little brats must be missing their arts and crafts session by now."

He started walking away, but not before turning back and giving you a smug grin. "See you around, Y/N."

You looked at him and your eyes lowered to his leg. You knew you shouldn’t say anything but…

"Your leg…Is it any better ?"

House grinned, clearly enjoying your concern, albeit reluctantly.

"Better ? Better ?" he mocked, feigning a dramatic limp as he walked away. "Oh yes, Y/N. I'm cured. Why, I can already see myself doing the Macarena and running marathons."

Despite his sarcastic tone, there was a hint of amusement and perhaps even a flicker of vulnerability beneath the facade. In his own way, House appreciated your concern.

And to both your surprises, you laughed.

House froze in his tracks, his surprise evident on his face as you burst into laughter.

"Did you just laugh ?" he said, sounding genuinely taken aback. "Did a genuine laugh just escape your lips ? Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you're the one who needs a CT scan."

You couldn’t stop as you doubled with laughter as the image of a Dr. House doing the Macarena kept repeating in your mind. House's surprise quickly turned into annoyance as you continued to laugh uncontrollably.

"Oh, very funny," he retorted, his voice laced with sarcasm. "You know, I try to be serious and show a moment of vulnerability, and all you can do is burst into laughter at the thought of me dancing the Macarena."

He rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement lurking beneath his grumpy exterior. You stopped laughing and shook your head.

"I would pay good money to see you dance. Any dance actually…"

House looked at you, torn between irritation and amusement.

"Oh, I bet you would," he replied, rolling his eyes. "Just so you could have a good laugh at my expense. But you'd be sorely disappointed. I'm not known for my dance skills."

He gestured to his cane and his hobbling stride. "Unless you count a pain-filled limp as a dance move."

You smiled.

"Heck. I’d indeed pay to be a witness of that."

Dr. House grinned at you and arched an eyebrow at you.

"Fine. But, I warn you. My services aren’t cheap. I charge $200 for a dance with the cane, $300 and I’ll bring out the wheelchair."

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculously exaggerated prices.

"Two hundred for a cane dance and three hundred for a wheelchair performance ? You're clearly overestimating your performance skills, Dr. House," you replied, your tone tinged with amusement. "But considering your medical expertise and my appreciation for entertainment, I might be tempted. Just name the time and place."

Dr House huffed.

"As long as you pay me ? I’d dance in a room full of interns…"

Your eyes widened and sparkled as a wicked idea bloomed in your head.

"Christmas party. In two weeks."

House raised an eyebrow, intrigued by your suggestion.

"Ah, the annual Christmas party, huh ?" he said, a sly grin on his face. "Crowded room, full of uptight staff members and their painfully forced holiday cheer. Sounds like the perfect environment for a little humiliation if you ask me."

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the idea. "You've got yourself a deal, Y/N. Just make sure you bring your wallet. Payment upfront, of course."

Your grin widened.

"You got yourself a deal, House."

House nodded, his own grin mirroring yours.

"Excellent," he replied, a hint of excitement in his voice. "I'll start planning my performance. The cane, the wheelchair…maybe a cane-dance-wheelchair combination ?"

He chuckled, clearly relishing the thought of his impending performance. "And don’t worry, I'm already counting on that payment. I want all those crisp bills in my pocket before I start dancing."

You chuckled and extended your hand forward.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Dr. House."

House extended his own hand and shook yours firmly.

"Likewise, Y/N," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "It's not often someone is willing to shell out serious cash just to see me make a fool of myself. Maybe there's a bit of sadism lurking behind that innocent smile of yours."

You winked playfully at him.

"Just your humiliation and pain can bring me pleasure, House."

House laughed, clearly enjoying the banter.

"I should’ve known," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "You find joy in my suffering. Well, get ready, Y/N. In two weeks, you’ll have your fill of laughter at my expense. Just don’t forget to bring your wallet. I’ll make sure to give you a performance worth every single penny."

You smirked.

"You better not disappoint me, House."

House raised an eyebrow at your sly remark.

"Disappoint you ? Me ?" he exclaimed, feigning offense. "I’ll have you know, Y/N, that I always deliver on my promises. In two weeks, you’ll witness a performance that will go down in the history books. Your cheeks will hurt from laughter, and your wallet will be considerably lighter. Don’t you dare doubt my abilities."

You nodded in agreement before turning around to leave.

"Two weeks, House ! Two weeks !" You reminded him.

"Two weeks, Y/N," he agreed, his voice tinged with anticipation. "I’ll start practicing my moves. It’ll be a Christmas party no one will forget."

You both smiled to yourselves as you walked away.

[lovelenivy]

you know what hate crimes md enjoyers, idk if this has been done before but i wanna start like a little tag game: i wanna know your favorite seasons in order, what you think is the best episode each season, your personal favorite ep from each season, any honorable mentions if you have them, and your least favorite/worst episode in your opinion. i'd also like to have you sort the main characters/fellows from favorite to least favorite, plus tell me your favorite ship (and optionally, a ship you enjoy and think is underrated)! feel free to toss in any explanations for why you chose what you did. (: kinda long, but oh well – feel like it'll be fun.

i'll go first (so you can see the format) – listing seasons from the best imo, to the worst, and the episodes.

Seasons:

1. Season 3

Best episode: one day, one room (?)

Favorite episode: merry little christmas

Honorable mention(s): cane and able, words and deeds, family, needle in a haystack

Least favorite episode: que sera sera (?)

it was hard to pick the best bc i'm biased towards merry little christmas, but i don't know if it would be the best of the season exactly. as for que sera sera, nothing really wrong with it but honestly i had a hard time picking a least favorite too. great season – to me it's like the classic house season.

2. Season 5

Best: birthmarks

Favorite: under my skin

Honorable mention(s): the softer side, last resort, both sides now, painless

Least favorite: big baby (?)

i literally just barely remember big baby compared to the rest, i think, no matter how many times i see it. amazing season though, honestly so up there with s3 for me that it became a tough choice.

3. Season 6

Best: help me

Favorite: wilson

HM(s): the down low, broken (part 1 & 2), baggage, lockdown

Least favorite: epic fail, remorse (?)

help me is such an amazing episode, it always makes me cry. epic fail is extremely annoying tho and idk why, like after i watched it more than once or twice i started having a hard time rewatching it. and honestly every time i watch remorse i get pissed off on thirteen's behalf and it's just not a fun feeling. not a bad episode though. i know a lot of people don't like s6 but i love it.

4. Season 2

Best: euphoria (part 1 & 2)

Favorite: no reason

HM(s): skin deep, distractions, hunting, clueless

Least favorite: sleeping dogs lie

i recently rewatched euphoria and it's so fucking good i legitimately cried. sleeping dogs lie isn't a bad episode, it just is frustrating to watch for many reasons. another classic house season.

5. Season 4

Best: house's head/wilson's heart

Favorite: house's head/wilson's heart, 97 seconds

HM(s): mirror mirror, you don't want to know, frozen, living the dream

Least favorite: the right stuff

nothing really wrong with the least favorite – it was honestly a tough choice. also i couldn't pick a favorite, it was so tough. i honestly really like this season despite how short and different it is.

6. Season 1

Best: detox

Favorite: detox

HM(s): three stories, histories, control, mob rules

Least favorite: heavy, everybody lies (pilot)

the pilot being orange just makes me laugh the whole time so it's hard to watch, and chase's insane fatphobia in heavy is just disturbing, which is the only reason it's a least favorite. for the best i was torn between three stories and detox, but i think detox is better. s1 is ranked so low bc of general weirdness.

7. Season 8

Best: the c-word, everybody dies

Favorite: the c-word

HM(s): dead & buried, twenty vicodin, nobody's fault, post mortem

Least favorite: we need the eggs

we need the eggs isn't bad, the case is just ??? weird and kinda sad tbh idk. i haven't rewatched the c-word yet but i remember it fondly, so i couldn't really choose a best episode. is picking the finale kinda dumb? maybe, idk. i like a lot of episodes from season 8 surprisingly, like most of them, but it's so different from the previous seasons with cuddy absent and the late addition of two new main characters that it can't be any higher for me.

8. Season 7

Best: after hours

Favorite: after hours, out of the chute

HM(s): unwritten, bombshells, the dig, moving on, fall from grace

Least Favorite: two stories

god i really can't stand rewatching two stories. idk what it is but the fucking kids that house gets stuck with in the principal's office are so annoying ??? probably my least fave episode in all of house. but despite how s7 is at the bottom, it did have some great episodes. just wasn't my favorite season at all, especially as someone who isn't really into huddy.

Characters:

from favorite to least favorite of the main characters –

1. House (of course)

2. Wilson

3. Thirteen

4. Cuddy

5. Chase

6. Foreman

7. Kutner

8. Cameron

9. Amber

10. Taub

11. Park

12. Adams

13. Masters

favorite ship: hilson (house / wilson)

underrated ship: thirteen / cameron, or chase / foreman

Tags:

anybody that wants to participate! i know it's kind of long so no sweat if you don't want to do it. i'm also indecisive so i had trouble picking episodes lmao

[all-pacas]

This is very random but do you ever think about Cameron’s crush on House in season 2 and think about how Cameron just…doesn’t actually know much about the House-Stacy of it all? Maybe it was just my read of it, but I was endlessly entertained by Cameron’s attempts (where possible) to insert herself more into House’s interior life, meanwhile he’s off having a whole separate plot at the adults table with Stacy and oftentimes Cuddy. It could just be me but it really had the vibes of a student crushing on a teacher and not really being in the loop that said teacher has a whole personal/romantic life going on with other teachers.

YEAH, it's… it's very interesting to me that House very, very obviously has a type. Stacy, Cuddy, and Wilson all form points of a very clear personality triangle, you know? They're different in their own ways, but they challenge him, they're snarky, strong willed, enjoy banter and that sort of… arguing just for fun thing. Not quite open hostile conflict, but you can't deny (and Cuddy herself points out) that House and Cuddy like bickering, that House and Wilson enjoy sparring, that clearly House and Stacy were flirt fighting every day.

And Cameron certainly challenges House at times, she's strong willed etc., but she just… she treats their potential romantic relationship as this very serious Thing. When House suggests their promised date be paintball (later established to be how he met Stacy), she rejects it: she wants a Sit Down Dinner, she wants tradition, she wants Romance. Particularly in the first season, Cameron sees House as this very… idealized figure. She's constantly defending him, downplaying his drug use (in Detox she's the only one to deny he has a drug problem), thinking everything he does has meaning and is intentional: House standing up to Vogler is because he's principled, not because he's petty and stubborn (or some combination of both); House to her is never just guessing but always intentional and idealized. She glosses over his flaws and impulsive self-destruction, she wants a traditional romance, she thinks she sees through the jokes and facade. But Cameron misses, I think, that the facade isn't totally a facade. House really does like monster trucks and video games and paintball. He really would rather bicker with Cuddy than have a romantic sit down dinner.

I think it's telling that when Stacy and Cameron talk, and Stacy gives Cameron the chance to ask her anything, Cameron asks what was he like before? Because she thinks House was markedly different, that everything is masks and facade. House's circle (his "adult friends," I first wrote) do know and note he's changed, but he probably always was snarky and selfish and childish. Cameron wants it to be a facade, because that means it can be fixed and seen through. I don't think it's a coincidence, either, that the longer she knows him the less interested she is. She always has a little infatuation, because she's Cameron and doesn't let things go, but the thing is that House isn't really her type either. She likes broken people, sure. But not really the rest.

[greghatecrimes]

You said you used to be a barista? Any headcanons on how our darlings at PPTH take their hot cocoa?<3

I did used to be a barista indeed!! <3 Oh this is such a good question, I'm much more of a hot cocoa than a coffee person myself so I absolutely love it.

These are based more on vibes than anything else:

House: With a near obscene amount of mini marshmallows sprinkled in, and a very healthy spiral of whipped cream on top of that. Like, tall enough that it looks like it might tip over. Half the time he probably makes it that big just to be obnoxious/see the ducklings' reactions lol

Wilson: Either normal hot chocolate (homemade though, not the powder/instant mix kind. Only ever homemade! Probably chides House whenever he sees him going for the hot cocoa powder and then stops him, takes over, and makes a big batch of luxurious homemade hot chocolate. (little does he know that was house's master plan all along.)), or he goes like... super indulgent and enjoys something like salted caramel hot cocoa every once in a while. If such a recipe exists.

Cuddy: Let's be real, it most likely wouldn't be a hot chocolate, it would be a mocha. That caffeine fuels her through her day. Unless she's at home with Rachel for a snow day or something. Then it's the good ol' swiss miss they keep a box of in the pantry. Rachel likes to put rainbow sprinkles on top with her mini marshmallows, and somehow there's always a little handful of them that end up in Cuddy's mug, too.

Cameron: Peppermint hot chocolate, one thousand percent! I wrote a post about coffee orders a while ago and I mentioned that Cameron totally seems like a peppermint mocha girl to me. The same carries over for hot chocolate, too. She'd be happy drinking peppermint hot chocolate any time of year, no matter the weather! (And I love her for it). I think it would be a total comfort drink for her. Very grounding. <3

Chase: Similar to the coffee orders, I think Cameron introduces him to peppermint hot chocolate, and he ends up really enjoying it. I think he'd also enjoy just plain hot chocolate with a small layer of whipped cream on top. (I'm picturing that it's the kind where the whip is about even with the rim of the glass, so that when you drink the first couple sips, you usually end up getting a whipped cream mustache). ALSO? Bailey's hot chocolate (hot cocoa recipe spiked w/Bailey's Irish Cream liqueur). Great nightcap on a cold winter night.

Foreman: Like I said, a lot of these are based on vibes alone. My man is really giving me "Hot cocoa with Nutella stirred in" vibes rn. Or something else that'll give it a nice, rich hazelnut flavor alongside the chocolate. Anything that adds more depth to the flavor instead of stacking on the sweetness. I can see him liking a dark chocolate hot cocoa with some dark cherry extract added in, too!

Kutner: Hot chocolate infused with orange extract, from a recipe specially made so that it tastes like you're drinking the equivalent of one of those chocolate oranges. Everyone thinks he's nuts until he convinces them to try it, and then they're all absolutely hooked.

Thirteen: I have two thoughts in my mind. One: I think she'd like both white hot chocolate and milk chocolate hot cocoa. Two: She strikes me as the type of person who would get a craving for hot chocolate in the summer, but absolutely NOT want the sensory feel of a hot drink when it's hot out. So she takes hot chocolate powder and mini marshmallows and mixes them into a glass of cold milk. House calls her out on it and is like "you're just drinking glorified chocolate milk at this point." Kutner immediately jumps to her defense and says "it's not chocolate milk, it's cold chocolate." (Then he makes himself a glass of "cold chocolate" and is like "This is actually pretty good!" and then orders an iced mocha with no espresso in it every day for the next week)

Taub: Dark chocolate hot cocoa. Something that's not too, too sweet, but still has a good cocoa flavor. Maybe this part is because I'm POTS-y/probable EDS and need way more salt than average (and thus fucking LOVE salt), but I feel like he'd enjoy sprinkling little sea salt crystals on top. Then it tastes like one of those fancy dark chocolate candy bars you can get at trader joe's.

Bonus Amber, just like in the coffee questions: Homemade chocolate infused with pure raspberry extract. And just a little bit of whipped cream on top (probably also homemade). (I adore her)

This was so much fun to think about! Thank you for the ask, anon! <3

[deansnotstraight]

Lisa Cuddy is Not Irene Adler

subtitle: You Guys Watched BBC Sherlock and It Shows

people keep tagging my Cuddy post saying that she is House's Irene Adler, which i assume is because the version of Irene Adler they're familiar with is the one from BBC Sherlock, or some other equally bad interpretation. So for you House fans who have not read the original stories:

[SPOILERS AHEAD for A Scandal In Bohemia, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, 1891]

The thing about Irene Adler is she isn't just a woman who can match Holmes in intelligence. (or close to. If he hadn't underestimated her she may not have won, but its no great aspersion on her character that she's not quite on the level of world's most brilliant detective) She is that, but she's also a normie. Her motivations in the story? She wants to settle down and get married. And she doesn't care about Holmes at all.

Sure, she's impressed by him, everyone is. But what is twisted into a romance plot in adaptations is simply mutual respect- not even interest. He has some interest in her, because he's surprised to discover that she's on his level. But her? she just wants to run off and get married already. (Personally, I like this aspect of the original story- but this post is not about how A Scandal In Bohemia still holds up as a feminist narrative in the modern day.)

So the fact that Cuddy is a scheming, manipulative crazy woman who seems to enjoy playing poking the bear that is House does not make her the Irene Adler. She doesn't match his diagnostic ability, and does match his crazy.

So who is she? Well honestly there aren't many recurring or even particularly striking female characters in the original stories, Irene Adler notwithstanding. Many characters in the original stories have been elaborated on by adaptations and fanworks to the point that people forget that these details were not there in the original. Irene Adler is not the only character who people assume appear a certain way in the original text based on questionable reinterpretations. Holmes and Watson chief among them!

But there is one character who i think can reasonably be compared to Cuddy. Contrary to what people might assume from the consistencies across adaptations, we know little about her in the original stories, except that she is a business woman, financially independent for a woman of the time, and that she puts up with all sorts of frustrations from Holmes, including constantly making her job more difficult, repeated destruction of property, and bringing drama, unpleasantness, and unsavory individuals to her place of residence and work. Her only given motivations are financial and a possible sense of fondness for him.

Lisa Cuddy is not Irene Adler. Lisa Cuddy is Mrs. Hudson.

[mrbensonmum]

TV Show - Dr. House | House M.D. XIII

THAT'S A WRAP!

We did it! Last night, the final episode of Dr. House flickered across the screen, and I must say, this rewatch was extremely enjoyable for me, partly because of writing about it. But from start to finish, there wasn't a single part that felt like a struggle, because the series is consistently good.

Cuddy is gone, Foreman is the new head of the hospital, and House is in jail. If that's not a spectacular start to a season, then I don't know what is.

But before that happens—since we still had a few episodes left from the seventh season—we see House completely out of control. First, injecting himself with experimental substances and then surgically removing the resulting tumors from his leg. After that, he tries, in his own way, to make things right with Cuddy, but it's increasingly failing. Even though I can understand some of his accusations toward her to a certain extent, what happens toward the end of the season is anything but justified.

In the eighth season, we see a very bizarre side of House, but one action hints at why he keeps resorting to such strange means. When he makes the immigration office document disappear, forcing Dominika to stay with him, he reveals something that has been subtly apparent all along—that he's incredibly lonely. Not everything can be attributed to this theme, but it does explain a lot! Especially what will happen with Wilson becomes increasingly clear.

Otherwise, Season 8 is another wild rollercoaster ride, not just in terms of the cases but also in terms of character development. During his time in prison, House meets the young doctor, Dr. Jessica Adams, whom he immediately adds to the team when he returns to Princeton-Plainsboro. There's also the suspended doctor, Dr. Chi Park, and after some initial difficulties, Taub and Chase make it back onto the team. From then on, everyone on the team faces some really tough challenges, and the worst one, towards the end of the season, comes to House himself. His best friend, what irony, is diagnosed with cancer. House has to confront many inner demons from then on and realizes that soon there will be no one left who truly understands his character and is also somewhat friendly towards him.

House tries everything to prevent Wilson's death because he doesn't want to lose this important person and also knows that his future would be uncertain without this support. But he's fighting windmills because Wilson has seen and experienced too much already to want to undergo treatment. He wants to enjoy the remaining time he has left.

I particularly liked Wilson's development because at the beginning, he's quite a thin, rather boring oncologist, and in the end, he's the tough, three-day-beard biker with a leather jacket. Especially when he's on the bike and puts on the glasses, he looks incredibly good, even though tragically plagued by cancer, just good!

What I find unfortunate, but can understand from an actress's perspective, is that we didn't see Lisa Cuddy (Lisa Edelstein) again. In the end, when House gets another beating in the burning house, he hallucinates quite a few people, and even Kutner and Stacy are there. On the other hand, Cuddy might have simply taken up too much space, especially after what happened in the last episode of the seventh season. Maybe it's for the best that she didn't show up again because otherwise, it might have felt like the focus was only on their relationship. Instead, it felt more like it was about each person and House, as well as the processing of different periods in his life or his drug addiction.

Whether there's such a thing as a perfect ending for a series, I don't know, but the ending of House comes pretty close. Of course, you're initially a bit disappointed because even though eight seasons are long and an ending can be a good thing, you don't want to let go just like that, and the inner series junkie demands more. But objectively speaking, this ending is really good because we've seen so many facets of House that it might feel forced now if there were more. We see how Adams and Park are firmly established in a team, Chase has finally found his place (I think his development is very good and how much more stable he is compared to the early seasons), and Taub embraces his role as a father. Cameron is also happy, which makes us all happy. And we also get another wonderful look at a still relatively healthy Thirteen, wonderful. Plus, there's that little nod with Foreman finding House's ID under a side table. Judging by his expression, you might think he knows House is still alive but is content that he has found his peace.

As often, I only picked out the really prominent parts from the season! The eighth season is full of interesting cases, exciting interactions with patients and the team, and a lot of new things, compared to the old seasons.

The thing between Park and Chase.

Chase being attacked and seriously injured by a patient (which is used to give him the necessary distance and make his team takeover make more sense)

Taub, who has a pretty established presence but still hasn't quite found his place in life

Foreman, who doesn't know whether he should be like House, like Cuddy, or just like Foreman as the head

What happens next? I honestly don't know yet. Yesterday, I looked around a bit and then decided on Bullet Train (2022). I still have to continue with Halo, but maybe I'll wait until the season is finished and then binge-watch everything in one evening, we'll see. But one thing I know is that I feel like watching something in the crime genre again!

[lilacerull0]

sometimes we forget how much of a light house is in cuddy’s life that her PERSON!!!

this is exactly what i needed in my inbox for personal reasons so thank you :") but yeah... they're both weird!!! is the thing!!!! and house is so loud about it because that's how he avoids being accused of anything and cuddy tries to undermine her weirdness because that's how she avoids being accused of anything, but both of those mechanisms are a way of not being one's true self to the fullest. because if you are determined not to do what you consider to be the things only other people can do and you believe in this because it was proven to you time and time again that you don't exactly fit in, you might miss out on the simplicity you're unexpectedly able to appreciate and engage in. and if you're constantly trying to meet everyone's expectations, where is the space for you to be you? and house IS a light in cuddy's life in this very unexpected, unusual way because he somehow still preserves while living in a way that's completely against the idea of what life should or is supposed to be. something cuddy struggles with throughout the entire show almost... even the things she wants that fit the perfect life narrative she tries to make herself want them more. i am instantly brought to tears thinking about her wish to have a kid which seemed more real to me than her attempts to find a romantic partner... because i really feel like she wanted to have someone who would at least hear her if not be like her -> that's why wilson is so significant to her. he's wilson! he hears what nobody else can hear... but she also wanted somebody to love without worrying about whether she was doing it right. so the fact that she admits not to feel what she thought she would feel towards rachel makes such compelling character drama... because the most crucial thing that cuddy does wrong is the fact that she thinks not to fit within the realm of supposed and should is to fail. and that brings me back to house because he does not care about the supposeds and the shoulds and he is a great doctor, maybe even because of this very thing more than anything else. and yes that does disrupt cuddy's whole worldview, but it's also hopeful i think. because if not sticking to the rulebook works for someone else, maybe she's not doing anything wrong when she's not married with kids by the time her mother deems appropriate. maybe she's not doing anything wrong it she gets overwhelmed by how much work she has to deal with. this is EXACTLY why house is the one to help out in that cuddy centric episode. because that's what he is to her. he jumps out of the ordinary and makes it work. so it's okay for cuddy to be cuddy. so there's no right way to feel something. and it's pretty fascinating because that same thing is what easily turns into one of house's greatest flaws (the fact that he won't let himself do or god forbid enjoy something ordinary or boring), but to cuddy it's inspirational. (the horror on her face when he admits that he values her over his work comes to mind) and there is something very human about all that which is mainly why theirs is my favourite relationship on the show. humans do that! we see something in someone and find light in it, but to that person to believe that something they've been called crazy for (by others or themselves) or have felt bad about to the point of it becoming an integral part of their very being and simultaneously an inevitable source of some kind of twisted, survival-rooted pride can be viewed in a different way is world-changing and on the edge of world-ending. that's the main conflict between these 2 characters i think. the fact that the very thing that they're inspired by in one another is what terrifies them when they get too close to each other. loving the other one is easy. it's loving themselves enough to be a person with them that's paralysing.

[alilixx]

Heard that requests are open so I thought I could give my women cuddy some love HAHA,, how about, for smut, cuddy being stressed with hospital management issues so you voluntarily help her relax by eating her out in her office ;) a spicy funny plot you could consider is that, reader had an infatuation with house, but house being house, rejected them, so reader is infatuated and persues cuddy and cuddy gives reader a chance. When reader and cuddy is done with their little eat out sess, house walks in. You could put in some house-ass dialogue like “This place smells like sex” and reader sassily replying “What? You jealous?” tryna get back at him HAHA,, honestly yea, have fun with this request, change the plot, add more, just have fun !! I’m just really glad people are writing for cuddy

I love your request, i will do it with PLEASURE!

You still remember that evening with unsettling clarity, as if it were yesterday. You had met in that small, intimate restaurant, chosen for its cozy ambiance and refined dishes. House was on time, which was an accomplishment in itself.

From the start, the conversation flowed easily. House, with his sharp mind and usual sarcasm, led the discussion. You were fascinated, hanging on his every word, trying to follow the thread of his labyrinthine thoughts.

Then, things started to go awry. Maybe it was when you mentioned your admiration for his work while adding that his methods were sometimes controversial. House raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his face. He began asking more personal, more invasive questions. It was his test, and he showed no mercy.

"So, you think my methods are controversial? What makes you so sure of your judgments?" he had shot back. Every answer seemed like a trap, a new subject for him to analyze.

You tried to defend yourself, explaining that you respected his ingenuity but also believed in traditional medical ethics. House listened to you, or rather let you talk, waiting for you to entangle yourself in your own contradictions.

Then, without warning, he abruptly cut the conversation short. "You know, you are interesting, but not enough for me to want to extend this evening. I appreciate the effort, really, but this isn't what I'm looking for."

You were left speechless, the raw truth hitting you hard. Without even tossing a bill for the check, House stood up and, without a backward glance, left the restaurant.

Left alone, your thoughts swirled. The evening you had so eagerly anticipated had turned into one of those stinging memories. Going out with Gregory House was no small feat; it was an ordeal, a battle of wits where you had failed.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

It was a few months after that memorable incident with House, and now you were engaged to Cuddy. You wanted her to be your wife, to share the same name, whichever that might be. You just wanted to show that she was taken, as a femme fatale like her often attracted attention, and it sparked your jealousy. Of course, you said nothing because she rebuffed them or you defended her when some were too persistent, but you had faith in her power and authority.

You were the only one who could help her in the evenings when she came home tired, sick, or sad. And that was worth its weight in gold. Unfortunately, Cuddy's stress had significantly increased. She often sent you messages asking to discuss, have lunch, and other things, but over time, these solutions were no longer enough. You had to negotiate for… sex. She was initially against it, but she eventually relented, though only in private places like an examination room. She enjoyed it a lot, so you continued in various locations. Up to her office.

She enjoyed the thrill of risk, and she knew how to stay stoic. So, it wasn’t a problem for you to tend to her intimate areas while she worked, at least until House walked in.

That day, you were in her office. Cuddy was sitting at her desk, her legs slightly parted under the table, and you were kneeling in front of her. She wore a pencil skirt that, when lifted, revealed elegant yet practical underwear. You gently pushed the fabric aside to access her intimacy, your fingers and tongue exploring every inch of her delicate skin. She kept one hand on your head, guiding you gently while nervously tapping on her keyboard with the other hand.

Cuddy was a master of control, but you could feel her body reacting to your touches. Her breath grew shorter, and her thighs instinctively tightened around your head. You loved the feeling of driving her wild with desire while knowing she had to remain calm and composed. The contrast between her stoic face and what you were making her feel below was incredibly exciting.

Suddenly, the door opened and House walked in, without knocking. You immediately felt Cuddy’s legs close around your head, hiding you from his view. "I see you’re busy," he said with a smirk, unfazed.

Cuddy, despite her compromising position, remained composed. "Greg, this is really not the time. Leave," she replied, her voice calm but firm.

House, still nonchalant, didn’t seem in a hurry to leave. "Interesting choice of office for a private consultation," he remarked, glancing around the room. Finally, with a final pointed look, he turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Cuddy gently released you, her breath still rapid. "We need to be more careful," she murmured, her tone a mix of reproach and relief. You nodded, understanding the need for discretion. Despite the risk, you knew these moments of intimacy were essential for her, for both of you.

You resumed your touches, more softly this time, sensing that she was relaxing again. She placed her hands on your face, guiding you to where she needed you most. You could feel her tension dissipate, her pleasure rising once more. And this time, nothing and no one would interrupt this moment of pure connection between the two of you.

This wasn’t the first time House had tried to negotiate a threesome or used this situation to unsettle you, but neither you nor Cuddy reacted to his provocations. He had been coming into Cuddy’s office more frequently, using this leverage to get what he wanted. One day, not seeing her just before a meeting, he knew where to look. He headed to a storage area and watched from a distance. Cuddy was lying on a cart while you were playing with her, neither of you having noticed him.

To reward him, you suggested placing a vibrator on her during the meeting. Her reaction was unanimous: "No." But with some pleading and a few kisses here and there, she eventually relented. You were thrilled to tease her, as that was all you planned to do. Throughout the meeting, she felt vibrations in her intimate areas, but she never reached her peak, as coming during a meeting would almost certainly cost her job, so you intended only to torment her.

Cuddy was seated at the conference table, surrounded by her colleagues, maintaining a stoic expression while the vibrator, controlled remotely by you, sent gentle pulses at irregular intervals. You watched discreetly from the back of the room, savoring every micro-expression that betrayed her pleasure. Seeing her tense up at times, watching her breath catch, was the most exquisite sight.

At one point, she met your gaze, her eyes shimmering with a mix of challenge and desire. You slightly increased the intensity, watching her tense up a bit before regaining control. You knew that the tension between professional duty and personal pleasure excited her just as much as it did you.

The meeting ended without major incident, but you knew Cuddy was on the verge of exploding. When she returned to her office, you were waiting there, a satisfied smile on your lips. "You're amazing," you whispered, kissing her softly. She responded with restrained fervor, her hands gripping your waist firmly.

"You too," she replied, her voice husky with desire. "But now, it's time to finish what you started." And with no further preamble, she pushed you against the desk, determined to regain control of the situation. Her expert hands roamed your body, each touch sending waves of shivers through you. You shared deep, passionate kisses, your bodies pressing against each other with palpable urgency.

Cuddy pushed you onto the desk, her lips never leaving yours. Her skilled fingers quickly found their way to your vagina, causing you to moan uncontrollably. She knew exactly how to drive you wild, each movement, each gesture calculated to bring you to the brink of ecstasy. With her deep, sensual voice, she simply said, "Control your moans, my love, no one must hear you." You placed your hand over your mouth to stifle the sounds, but Cuddy had other plans, using her mouth to kiss you and swallow every one of your moans.

You were in perfect harmony, each sensation amplified by the risk and excitement of your environment. Cuddy took her time, savoring every moment, every reaction of your body beneath hers. She loved seeing you succumb to her touches, and you surrendered, relishing the intense and intimate connection.

The tension built up to a crescendo, each second bringing you closer to the point of no return. You were alone, lost in this bubble of pleasure, forgetting everything else. The outside world ceased to exist; there were only the two of you, bound by this burning, insatiable desire. You came on her hand, and a few seconds later, you saw her licking her fingers with your taste on them, which made you blush, and her response was a simple wink.

[irenespring]

Rewatching both House and ER and I have been thinking about why I find House to be a far more sympathetic character than Robert Romano.

To be clear: I know House's behavior is horrible. He should have been fired. There is no moral justification for his actions. However, as my favorite history professor constantly says: "context is not justification."

Words vs. deeds: House says a lot of terrible things, but his actions paint a different picture. He says antisemitic nonsense, but it never alters his attitudes towards Taub, Wilson, and Cuddy. He says he will sexually harass Cameron and Chase, and definitely does sexually harass Cuddy--but he never touches them without permission, and doesn't want to date an employee even when Cameron really wants to date him. Romano, on the hand, engages in verbal sexual harassment, and then does act on it. He tries to get Elizabeth deported because she won't sleep with him. He tries to get any out lesbian fired.

Backstory: House is the main character of the show titled House. As such, though we don't learn a lot about him, we are provided insights into his past. A big part of helping viewers empathize with a character is helping them understand why he is like this. You get a sense of House's tragic backstory, and how that backstory forged him into the kind of person he is. Romano, on the hand, is never fully expanded on. All we really know about him is that he has a good relationship with his mother. There isn't enough data to understand, and thus connect, with his overall character. He was intended to be a villain, rather than an anti-hero.

Self-reflection: House is a terrible person, and he knows it. He hates it. When he talks about the world with patients (I've noticed this particularly in season 1) he sounds really fucking sad. He wants the world to be better, he wants to be better, but this is how the world works and therefore he can only present himself one way and stay safe. This self-knowledge makes him a more conflicted character, and shows he has empathy. He wants to change, but doesn't think he can. On the other hand, Romano is deeply arrogant, not superficially arrogant. He thinks he's the shit. He truly believes he is the world's greatest man and entitled to act however he wants to the "little people" as he calls them. This removes a certain depth from his character.

Show tone: House is a show about terrible people. Everyone is crazy in their own unique ways. The show is about looking at the good in those terrible people. In order to enjoy the show, you have to stop yourself from analyzing the morality of the characters' actions. ER, on the other hand, is at least supposed to be about good people (don't get me started about how the protagonists treat Kerry, and whether that actually makes them good people). People are supposed to be heroic. The characters face deep ethical dilemmas the audience is supposed to consider. This makes Romano's heinous actions stand out and force the viewer to analyze them.

Pain: House is in pain. He is in pain all the fucking time. When people are in pain, they are less patient, more likely to snap. There's a standard view that when people are in a huge amount of pain, they say things they don't mean. They try to hit people where it hurts because of how much they hurt. This doesn't excuse his actions, but does create further separation between House's words and his innate character.

Anyway both ER and House are good shows, but suffer from being from the early 2000s (or mid-late 1990s in ER's case). You should watch them! But yeah, Romano bothers me way more than House, who I think would be an interesting foil for Kerry.

[theropoda]

...... i have. PRAWBLEMS. with the ending but honestly i felt very unwell and gross rn so i had difficulty focusing in the first place, maybe if i watch it again when i feel better ill feel different. under read more bc this got long lol

disclaimer before anyone GETS at me: i am not a critic. im literally just some guy watching a tv show, and i am really more confused than anything so if you really enjoyed the finale and feel like it was the perfect way for the show to end im happy for you! i don't have any intent on arguing it Absolutely Wasn't. this isn't a Hatepost. just me airing my thoughts. that are probably really incoherent bc again, i feel unwell ;_; brain is more focused on my stomach than this damn show

i knew how this was gonna end, i did watch the end of this show before, ive always been familiar w house because i watched episodes of it on tv as a kid with my mom and sister and knew major plot points like amber's death and wilson's cancer and house faking his death and everything but. the details were lost on me. now that i know the details something about them just doesn't jive with me and feel right.

probably related to my earlier post about how even in the final season so much of house is the same. he tried to change for the better but he was still back. i mean the entire premise of the show is about "the disabled addict doctor who struggles to be a person" so if any of these magically stopped being there that'd be stupid ESPECIALLY him being a disabled addict which are so central to his character. so im definitely not complaining about that.

initially i thought him faking his death was insanely reckless but what other choice was available. if he went, Hey, im here! im alive he'd absolutely be going to jail. in jail so far away while his best friend, maybe his only friend would be dying alone. of course he did that. his only choice was ttofake his death to be with wilson. throwing away his whole life and legacy and career and reputation to be with him.

hilson endgame real but also, while watching the whole show i kept going from "tumblr didn't lie these guys are gay" to "Tumblr may have oversold it a bit". but that might just be in the nature of its episodic structure. not e everything is abt wilson there's other people in house's lofe but in that final season everything does speed up, suddenly and become about wilson. which brings me to the whole cancer thing. in my memory of the show from watching it as a kid, Wilson's cancer came up as a plot point WAY earlier and there is much more time to discuss it in the show. to ponder and delve into it, what it means for wilson, for house, for the show. but actually watching the show it feels very sudden....! i felt like the entire cancer thing, which plays so damn heavily into the SERIES FINALE, wasn't explored enough...? it felt rushed. but it might feel like it because well there's a difference between watching a show as it comes out on a schedule vs binge watching it on demand.

and another thing that irked me is- but this is more of a "this personally makes me Feel Sad and Weird" as opposed to genuine criticism is how EVERYONE thinks house is dead except Two People. that's crazy. i have a Thing for closure and knowing things, the truth, im a little paranoid about that, but it just feels insane to me that house's own parents, family, former and current colleges, lovers, everyone... they all think he's dead when he's not. i see how that is, in terms of the Narrative, a good thing? house is truly FREE now. and if other people knew they'd probably call the police. but also that's just kinda horrifying.... I don't know. idk. also wtf cuddy wasn't there at the funeral? D: obviously i know how their last meeting went but they were such big part of each other's lives im rlly shocked she wasn't there! or even showed up at ALL in the ending scene where we see where everyone's life has headed, a little scene of her, Rachel, and someone new

and also. ._. how did that fire even start in the first place?..... did i miss something....? uaaaaah. i should watch it again

ugh but despite my peeves. i want to pass this off as Just another show ive watched, time to move on to the next, because a big part of the reason i started house and kept going and even chose to watch it at the times i did was because i have been going through some rough shit mentally for the past. entire year plus. i have relied on it to keep me distracted. i want to just move onto the next distraction but i have become so attached, it's hard to not feel :/ and :( about 1) the fact it's over now 2) it ended in a way that makes me feel funny, and not in a good way. aaaahhhhh.

[spin-linn]

A Small Snippet from a story I'm writing

Heroes United [Working Title]: a Rise of the Brave Tangled Dragons novel

Hiccup’s POV:

The trail we followed to Old Corona was littered with a few too many tree roots and chuck holes for my taste. It was like a war zone, and the battle was being waged against my lack of agility. I tripped and teetered over so many times I lost count. I would have smashed my face against a sunken boulder had it not been for Jack, who quickly yanked me upright by the shirt collar just as I began to topple over a huge crack in the obliterated cobblestone road.

“Jings, you're as wobbly as a newborn foal,” Merida chortled after watching my clumsiness take over for the umpteenth time.

I gave her an irritated glare. “Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, shrugging her delightful personality off. “I get it, I'm a klutz. Tell me a new one.”

“As you wish,” she took my sarcasm as a challenge. “You're also as stubborn as a buckin’ cuddy.”

“Whoa! Watch your mouth, Mer!” Jack cackled, taking her words to be off-color.

“She wasn't cursing,” I chuckled, realizing Jack wasn't as well-versed in Scottish lingo as I was. As much as the Vikings hated them, my dad and a lot of the other adults sure enjoyed borrowing a lot of their slang and vernacular. I grew up hearing it a lot, so one could say I was fluent. I knew what a cuddy was. “She just called me a horse,” I explained. “Like, a wild one that someone's trying to ride for the first time. That's why she said I was like a bucking cuddy.”

“Oh, okay,” he seemed to understand, “like a bucking bronco, then? I know rodeos.”

“What the heck's a bronco?” I gave him a confused glance. “Or a rodeo?”

“Seriously? It's another word for a horse.”

“Innae no horse I've ever heard of,” Merida scoffed.

“Jeez Louise! It's an unbroken horse!” Jack enunciated, holding back laughter. He seemed to be reaping as much fun out of the strange conversation as he could. “And a rodeo is like a big show where people do horseback tricks and try to ride broncos or bulls.”

“Show riding, huh?” That got my attention. “We do that with our dragons from time to time back on Berk! Toothless and I have gotten pretty good at air tricks.”

“I can hit a bullseye from 50 paces on horseback,” Merida interjected, bragging to herself. “Been practicing for months.”

“That's impressive, Mer, but I would say barrel racing and lassoing cattle isn't exactly like that,” Jack chuckled, shaking his head. “You've clearly never seen a cowboy movie.”

“Now we're talking about cows?” My confusion only grew. “What even is this conversation?” I threw my hands up in defeat, beginning to laugh in spite of myself. “Now I'm lost.”

“I guess you could also call him a ‘brumby’, Mer,” mused Jack, still preoccupied with the whole “cuddy” confusion. “Picked that one up from a friend 'down undah',” he said with a funny accent.

“I have absolutely no idea what's going on back there,” Rapunzel called back to us as she led the path, studying Cassandra's notebook. “But I am enjoying the chaos.”

“Join the club, Punz!” I started to laugh.

_______________

If you've stuck around this long, thanks for reading! The story this is from has been a passion project for almost 10 years. I'm writing it as a form of therapy, and I'm not planning to post the finished product anywhere as of now.

I've been working on this story for several months now, and I'm just really proud of this dialogue exchange. I wanted to share it, even though I don't intend to share the whole story. Thanks for bearing with me, and I hope you enjoyed it!