#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/?

[4ever-feral]

Not only can I fix him but Being houses controversially young girlfriend would fix me IM ON MY KNEES FOR YOU SIR 🧎🏽‍♀️

[pajama-plants]

[daredevil-vagabond]

MEMENTO MORI Doctor, the problem's in my chest My heart feels cold as ice, but it's anybody's guess

[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

[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 :)

[puckspoetry]

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

[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

[shittysawtraps]

Hello Dr. James Wilson,

My name is John Kramer and you were recommended my last few oncologists weren't able to help me so I'm asking for your assistance.

You may be wondering why I have you in this room with a TV. Well I have to keep you motivated to help me.

So we have your boyfriend Dr. Gregory House in another room. We are keeping him away from his Vicodin, and it will get worse and worse and when he is at his worst we will let him design traps for other subjects.

I recommend you fix the cancer quickly House has already drawn some very creative traps

[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.

[glossglamour]

The Doctor is in the House: A 2011 Article on House M.D.

BY SHERI LEVINE, POSTMEDIA NEWS NOVEMBER 17, 2011

LOS ANGELES - Paging Dr. House. After eight years, Hugh Laurie is still keeping House's heart beating. And while the medical mysteries may serve as plots for the long-running medical drama, it's Laurie's alter ego, the man himself, Dr. Gregory House, who keeps people tuning in for their weekly fix.

Laurie, who made a name for himself as a comedic actor in his native England, was relatively unknown to North American audiences when House first aired. Of course, that's no longer the case. The multi-talented Laurie -- who recently released a fine album of New Orleans-inspired blues music -- has become a huge star across the pond, as well as one of the highest-paid actors on TV.

"I highly doubt that," says a modest Laurie, who actually seems embarrassed by the very notion that he would rank so high on the actors' payroll. Clearly, he doesn't take his good fortune for granted. Laurie calls himself "a lottery winner" with the great success he's achieved on House.

Dressed casually in a blue, button-down shirt, black pants and black and white sneakers, or trainers (as the Brits would say), Laurie rests his cappuccino cup and saucer on the table in front of him. The charismatic Englishman playfully takes on the group of international journalists who have invaded his turf.

In person, the affable Laurie smiles easily, laughs frequently and seems to never be at a loss for a witty response or anecdote. He is adorably charming, with piercing, blue eyes -- an intense blue not picked up on camera.

It's oddly amusing to see the man -- who plays such a cynical, depressive, perpetually grumpy person, week in and week out -- so happy. Of course, that's the mark of any good actor. But as creator and executive producer, Canadian David Shore, says: "He didn't become House, he WAS House."

Laurie's strong comedic roots may have been what resonated so strongly with Shore upon seeing Laurie's audition tape.

"I venture to guess that, actually, that's part of the reason that I'm here," says Laurie. "Unless this character had a sort of grace and a wit about him, he would be just too much of a pain in the ass, really. The elegance of the way his mind works, and the speed at which it works, is part of his charm, if he has any. Now, lots of people would say he doesn't have any. I disagree. I find him immensely charming.

"I'm not sure I would put up with him as a best friend, but I do find him endlessly entertaining. And I find . . . the references he draws on, the way he seeks out people's weaknesses in such a cruel and horrible way, I find he does at least do it with wit."

House has become an iconic character, largely due to Laurie's flawless portrayal of a brilliant doctor with a horrible bedside manner whose asinine qualities are overshadowed by his brilliance. He's not really an ass, he just acts like one . . . a lot.

The antithesis of House is his best friend, Dr. James Wilson (Robert Sean Leonard). One might even go so far as to say it's their friendship that humanizes House, and is a big part in sustaining the show's success.

"One of the things I'm proudest of in the show is that relationship," says Shore. "I think that it's something you don't see on TV very often -- the male friendship explored," he says.

Leonard weighs in: "His actions are what count. It's the only relationship on the show that's not tied to any employment. I don't work for him and he doesn't work for me, and it's not true of any other character on the show. So we're the only two characters that have actually chosen to be together."

The onscreen pals are also good friends off-screen, a likely contributing factor to the genuine House-Wilson dynamic.

"Well, now that we've stopped sleeping together, it's a lot more comfortable in every way, physically, as well," jokes Leonard. "I don't know. He's very complicated. He's a very strange guy. He's very funny. He's like most of the people I like in my life: tortured, miserable, and just a pain in the ass," Leonard says (referring to Laurie, not House, just in case you were confused).

As to whether this is the show's last season, David Shore says he's undecided.

"I'm not being coy, I'm just honestly not that well ordered," admits Shore. "I would love to and I would hate to (continue the show). It's been a wonderful opportunity for me. It's just been amazing on so many different levels, and I'm continuing to find new and interesting things to do with it. But it's been eight years. It's a long time to do a show. And so I really am not sure what's going to happen."

In the end, Shore says the show is ultimately about "trying to change, but we inevitably fail."

"But if we don't keep trying to change, we're just going to slide completely backwards. I think House would like to be the type of person who could do things differently. But he's not, and he will never (be)."

What does this mean for the fate of Dr. Gregory House?

"I'm not going to change his character for the end of the show," says Shore. "It may not be a miserable ending, but (House) is not going to ride off into the sunset with love."

--- (source) ---

this one surprisingly only took me like twenty minutes to find. my favourite part is when shore says that house is not going to ride off into the sunset with love and yet .