#there is no fixing dr gregory house

[puckspoetry]

It’s all “I can fix him” this and “I could help him” that. No babe, he would break you psychologically whilst doing the worm over your grave.

[wouldgaysexfixthem]

would gay sex fix them?

[florida3exclamationpoints]

House MD + text posts pt. 25/?

[tremendously-crazy]

Hilson post canon storyline will always be this to me:

House and Wilson's road trip lasts like a week or two. After that, Wilson has an epiphany in the middle of the night in some crummy hotel that he WANTS to live. 5 months isn't enough time to spend with his best friend, doing stupid stuff together and having fun. It's his own choice, and he realizes that he's willing to be in pain for House. (And maybe he also realizes he's gay and he doesn't want to be in denial anymore yada yada)

Wilson changes his mind (again) and the very next day decides to start treatment. House supports him completely and is both relieved and terrified. It's painful, it's scary, it's everything Wilson worried about, but House stays by his side unwaveringly the entire time. He's an honest, grounding force. After a year or two or three, Wilson finally declared cancer free, with House right alongside him ringing that bell.

House and Wilson don't "settle down" for the first few years after he gets better. they keep living their life the same way, traveling the country together and living life to the fullest, making up for all the time they lost during Wilson's treatment, and enjoying the time they've been given. Maybe one day, when they're both tired of life on the road, they buy a house together (Wilson buys the house because House is legally dead). They don't get married (that's against House's entire belief system), but all their neighbors assume they are. House somehow changes his identity and is known on all important and unimportant paperwork as "Steve McQueen."

Maybe they'll adopt a kid (a daughter because come on House and Wilson are girl dads) or get a dog, or maybe they'll just enjoy being together. Maybe Wilson and House will even find a way to reconcile with Cuddy.

And then, at some point in the now present (2024-2025 ish), they get a knock on the door. It's Foreman, who knew House was alive all along and tracked him down. There's a grave situation going on at PPTH, and he's run out of all options. He needs House to figure it out. House, at first, declines but eventually decides to help with Wilson's blessing. Boom. that's how you start the 9th season of House.

[pajama-plants]

[brick-house-lover]

Wilson (expensive mistakes)

yall remember when patrick stump sang a song with park? yea that was cool as hell.

credit to @inanvty on tiktok for a few of the clips :P !

[leshrom]

gregory house is an 18th century home with lead everywhere and no working running water with horrible infrastructure

everyone is like "you cannot salvage this" and everyone in the main cast is like "BUT LOOK AT THE CROWN MOULDING AND THE SPINDLES" and ignoring the mold and the 50 generations of bugs that have lived and died and are currently living in the house

[reinanova]

how many times can a sex-repulsed aroace say the word “sex” in a 4k fanfic?

…43 times

anywayyyyyyssssss

i wrote a fic fixing the end of House MD s8e9 “Better Half” (the asexual episode) so that the ace patients don’t have their identities erased

here’s the fic if you’re interested: A Tumor, a Surgery, and a Realization by reinanova

it’s locked to registered users but if the fic link doesn’t work, my ao3 profile link should

[kinda-ok]

the urge to read post-finale hilson fics…it’s getting too strong…I don’t know how much longer I can resist…

[puckspoetry]

I can just imagine House playing this on guitar as soon as Wilson walks into the room just to piss him off

[poetsplay]

the tortured poets department (hilson's version)

[countfagulaa]

I wish I got the cool kind of autism like the “good at science and math” autism but instead I have the urgent need to collect pictures and videos of Hugh Laurie like a squirrel rapidly gathering nuts for the winter season before it arrives and she is left to die without sustenance.

[houseshousewife]

we're building a house :)

[beechersnope]

tell me why a brief walk & 4 hours in the sun has completely wrecked me. i feel like i just got back from running a marathon

[crucifiedramblings]

Fool Me Once — Dr. Gregory House x F!Reader (Part I)

Hello! This is my first Gregory House fic, I've been truly obsessed with this old man recently. No warnings for this chapter (edit: mention of pill abuse), but I will list full work warnings below.

Word Count: 789

Content Warnings: Angst, implied/referenced drug use & addiction, eventual smut, swearing, graphic depictions of medical gore

Next Part: N/A

            

The pills hadn’t been in House’s system for a few days— he would have to rebuild his Vicodin tolerance again. Nothing like a “V-Break” to get the same hazy punch as before— the name could use some work, though. House lazily looked at you through heavily-lidded eyes, his head dipping to the side to look at his own vitals on the small monitor to the right of his bedside.

            You had only been on House’s diagnostic team for a few days when he collapsed in the middle of a briefing. His toxicity screen showed a spike in narcotic levels, and you flushed his system while he was out. He argued that it was doing more harm than good, but you replaced the chemical with comfort medications until he had clean blood. Once it ran clear, and he was no longer dying— you practically spoon-fed his Vicodin right to him. 

            Maybe it was the sympathy— no, empathy— of being a former addict. Maybe it was the fact that you hated seeing House detoxing. Maybe it was because you knew how sick he must have felt. Whatever it was— it triumphed over any nobility you held as a doctor as you placed three white pills into House’s shaking hands with a reassuring smile. 

            House looked at you with an almost frazzled gaze, dry-swallowing the pills as if you were going to snatch them away if he took too long. You sat on a stool by House’s side, holding a small styrofoam cup’s straw to his lips. He gratefully sipped, a soft whistling coming from the lid as House greedily gulped down the frigid water. He gave you a nod, as if to say ‘thank you’ without the words ever leaving his mouth. You only nodded in response.

            House asked for your name, a raspy request given between sips and wheezes. You gave it to him, although skeptical he didn’t know the name of the newest hire on his team— House was a very thorough man in his decisions. He gave you a lazy grin, giggling to himself and eventually drifting off. At least the pills did what you hoped, giving House some much-needed rest. He looked so much more peaceful like that— no longer sporting a leaping forehead vein, teeth no longer bared— he looked at ease. Like he wasn’t in any pain.

            After several torturous hours— the ones that bled into days, which crashed down into weeks— House was cleared to return to work . . . although he technically never left, and was sure to remind everyone of such knowledge. He walked circles around his bed with a newfound vigor, having just replenished his fix for the morning. House’s limp was barely noticeable when he first dosed, and you were consistent in tracking how his decreased mobility affected his mood by the end of the day. 

            The truth was, you were used to House— but you were not accustomed to sober House— the version of himself that he hid away until he could take time off work. The persona that House barely allowed to see the light of day if unnecessary. The facade that reminded House too much of his father in a certain light. 

            You didn’t blame him— you used to be the same way— although he didn’t know that much from your file. He treated you like some brown-nosing geek, saving his life to look good in front of the new boss. House didn’t understand why someone would fight so hard to save him, and then hand him the pills that almost killed him in the same breath. You didn’t quite understand it either— maybe it was the words Wilson muttered by House’s bedside when he was still in a perpetual coma.

“I can’t lose you yet— fight it.” 

            Maybe it was the pang of hurt you felt at the sight of him when he awoke— dripping with sweat, pale, scratching at his own intravenous drip to make himself feel something other than the pounding of his head and the bile in his belly. Whatever it was— the semblance spoke to you well enough to place his own killer into his discolored palms. 

            It was worth it, the way House’s gaze lit up— he angled his head to the ceiling tiles and hastily, shakily swallowed the pills without any consideration. You almost took pity on him— that was, until he commented on your bust in your top. You smacked him with his own file, grateful to have the version of House you had come to know up and running again— regardless of how annoying that version may be. Your help remained unspoken, but in the following weeks, some distant glances and singled-out tasks would bring any tension to a head. 

[never-forget-viva-la-pluto]

HOUSE MD SPOILERS below the cut

I just LOVE the ending. I hate it, but I love it and I want to talk about why it was actually so fucking good.

Tbh I love that Wilson, not House, is the one diagnosed with cancer.

Like it would have been so easy to end on the tempting note of House's actions having consequences and his drug use wrecking his body to the point of precancerous conditions that manfiest into the death he craved and nearly saw several times in the series, but they didn't. They could have given the character who is too disabled to exercise and has a diet of drugs and alcohol the cancer, but they didnt.

They said, no, the one who eats well and exercises regularly gets cancer. The one who blow dries his hair every morning and never does drugs(except the times he was roofied by House) and takes care of himself is diagnosed with terminal cancer and there is nothing to be done.

Because that's how cancer is. You can be in the best physical and mental shape of anyone and still lose to cancer, and fast. Sometimes the guy who eats nothing but fast food and has never checked his bmi will be the one whose organs last longer than his friend who eats balanced meals everyday and never done a thing to harm his body. Because that's how cancer is.

Cancer doesn't spare you because you're supposed to be the Watson to his Sherlock. Cancer doesn't spare you because you're an oncologist. Cancer doesn't spare you because your friend is the one who does drug and youre clean. Cancer doesnt spare you because all your meals were homecooked and made with your body's health in mind.

In this story, Sherlock fakes his death so Watson won't have to die alone. Because even the best detective is rendered useless in the face of his best friend's cancer.

I love that the story stuck to its guns and shot Wilson in the dead center of his clavicle.

Because "Cancer is Boring".

For a show that never stops trying to one up itself every episode to come up with the most insane medical conditions, ending it with the patient being Wilson, and the prognosis being simple, boring cancer was the best choice I think they could have made even if I hated it.

Because I wanted Wilson to live, I wanted House to turn around and find some crazy thing that would mean he is okay and it never happened. Wilson was just going to die, because it's cancer.

Simple and boring, but heavy and painful. I wanted Wilson to live, just like everyone who has lost a loved one to cancer wanted them to live, for a doctor to find something else and make it all better, but that's not what cancer is.

And for it to end on that note, really solidified this show in my brain as one to be remembered. Because, despite everything in the series, all the metaphors to geniuses and God and brilliance and remarkable feats, this show is true to itself to ALWAYS cut House down to a broken man again.

He gets his old flame back, and he still loves her, but it won't take long for that to end bitterly.

He does experimental medication, it fixes his pain and he can do the thing he loves again(running/jogging) and he ends up broken in his bathtub pulling tumors from his leg and ultimately has to call someone to help him.

He gets goes to rehab, gets clean, and wins the love of the main female lead, but he falls off, he gets suicidal, he loses her, and then he goes to jail.

He helps people while in jail, then he gets out of jail, he fixes his relationship with his best friend, he helps people at his old job, his best and only friend is diagnosed with terminal cancer, he lands himself in a burning building while tripping hard and takes that chance to throw everything away for this friend who will only be with him a few more months.

At the beginning, middle, and end of the show it really says "God doesn't limp."

Dr. Gregory House is just a man.