#when I catch you taub

[hotchstead]

Someone tell Rachel taub or whatever her last name is now that I’m free for dinner and I won’t cheat on her like her husband did :)

[konigsblog]

OCTOBER 17TH — KIDNAPPER!KÖNIG. His punishments are unusually violent, leaving deep and agonising welts and lengthy scars on your skin, and crimson leaking from beneath your thighs. (NON-CON)

2024 KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. (DAY 17)

NOTE: I apologise for this being a little late... (⁠T⁠T⁠)

PHOTO CREDIT: xbruised_peachx

König can be freakishly gentle for a man of his nature and size. His touch can be caring and cautious, careful not to grip you too tightly or firmly through pure and utter excitement and cuteness aggression. Don't blame him, Mäuschen. He's head over heels for you, a newfound and intriguing interest he can't get out of his rotten and decaying mind.

Although, he can become ruthless and unforgiving when you disobey. Considering his size, it doesn't take a lot to knock you unconscious, to leave you trembling on the filthy concrete ground beneath your feet. One rough and agonising punch to your cheekbone and you're stumbling backwards dizzily, your eyes glistening and bleary before they roll to the back of your skull, a painful and horrified whimper slipping from your bruised, burst lips. Your punishments are almost always the result of your attempted escapes. It's fruitless, he'll always catch up to you, military boots brushing the frozen, crispy autumn leaves beneath his large feet, gloved fingers grasping at your biceps.

“What don't you understand, Taube?” König mutters quietly beneath his cold breath, gazing down at the limp and almost lifeless body beneath him.

Your eyes gaze into his, a lone tear coating your bruised and bloodied cheek, mixing with the crimson fluid that seeps from the gushing wound on your face. You whine out, a small and weak sob for mercy before you fall unconscious, victim to König's brutality. He doesn't enjoy punishing you, or at least that's what he tells himself, a pointless attempt at reassuring himself that he's not that immoral or cruel — just misunderstood. He grinds his pearly teeth together, the taste of tobacco still on his lips from a previous cigarette, an addiction you only worsen by stressing him out. His calloused and scarred fingertips pull at the thin underwear that barely give you a slither of dignity.

Your head rolls backwards, his hands smearing the familiar gory liquid over your face as he wipes away a tear from your eye, pressing his scarred lips to your forehead as he slowly unzips his trousers. His breathing quickens as he exposes your bare, nude body to himself, admiring the deep welts that cover your rear and the back of your marked thighs, a haunting memory of the many punishments you've endured.

Your grown out fingernails leave deep, red scratch marks along his freckled and flushed back. He wears them proudly, like some sort of achievement. Or perhaps it's to taunt you, to show you how much he's weakened you, how exhausted you are, and how helpless and defenceless you are against someone like him. How despite your attempts at fighting back, you'll never overpower him. A puppet in his hands.

“I’m just trying to protect you, Mein herz.” He repeats, a bead of sweat wandering his wrinkled forehand as he pries your soft thighs apart with his grubby hands, stained with his grotesque sins. Teeth dig into the side of your nape as he ruts himself against your swollen and drooling cunt, his breathing laborious and his wide, insane eyes fixated on your shivering form. He grunts, an animalistic growl leaving him as he greedily and selfishly forces his way inside, sparing you no mercy for your rebellion.

“You’ll learn to become my pet, Runt. Just wait.”

Your skin is littered with agonising marks and fresh wounds, all that he's inflicted. He'll blame you for it, claiming that if you just obeyed that you wouldn't be beaten and roughened up. Your misery is his enjoyment, and a lesson for you to learn.

[sunnyswide]

You haven’t seen him in ages ever since he left for the military in high school.

But nothing could have prepared you for this..

“König-” You choke on your words, he was.... massive.

Konig shifted uncomfortably, standing awkwardly at the doorway of your comparatively tiny home. His Miltary Uniform and the signature sniper mask still dawned.

“Can I come in?”

“oh! Of-course” you’re awakened from your trance, his presence looming over your meek body. you stepped aside, letting him wander around your apartment, his boots making the floors creak in agony.

“You haven’t changed much” He stared at you with those damn blue eyes, eyes you haven’t forgotten..you couldn’t.

It’s been years since those last words..

—

“Don’t wait up”

“you promise.. You’ll come back?” You squeeze his hand in yours, tears threatening to slip out the corners of your eyes.

He just stares at you.. those piercing blue eyes and nods. Only a nod. A simple gesture but that’s all you needed at that time.

—

But now? He was back after years, the only friend you kept in contact with after high school and College, the only man who made you feel safe physically but also mentally. The same König that would stutter in front of the class when giving presentations, the same König who seemed tensed in social settings but with you? He’d give you the world.

You thought the feelings faded, your heartstrings cut, but having him right in front of you… well honestly made you flustered and tense.

“You’ve changed though..uhm, König..” You look shamelessly at his body, eyes lazily wandering over his tight shirt, uncovered forearms, broad shoulders, large torso, his..

“my eyes are up here Liebling”

He straightens up, tilting his head back revealing even more of his sculpture-like body.

“I-I wasn’t looking!” you jolt, turning your head to the side.

“Anyways! Tea?”

You walk over to your kitchen counter, setting the quite adorable but inconvenient tea set to a boil. You prepare the concoction nervously, spilling a few fragments on the tray.

“Schatz” He stands up, freeing your couch from suffocation.

He walks towards you, his hand brushing over the black countertop. you back up instinctively.. still unaccustomed to his presence.

“König..”

“Kö- that’s what you used to call me. Isn’t it?” He stepped closer to you, closing the gap.

You swear you stopped breathing at this point.

His hand crept around your waist, fingers pressing against the thin fabric of your shirt.

“Ich habe dich sehr vermisst, Taube.”

“huh?!” You finally catch your breath, confused as to what spell he just conjured up.

But with no answer, he kissed you with his covered mouth, pushing rougher against you to feel your soft rosebud lips.

“mmf!” Your hands freeze, hovering on the sides of his sniper hood before gently setting them against the structure of his jawline. The kiss seemed unreal, you were ready to be awoken in bed at any time but nothing, the world kept spinning and time didn’t stop.

Breathless, you finally disconnect your hands from his face, letting the kiss escape into the past.

“I didn’t want to take off my mask..for you” he muttered, letting go of your waist.

“why?”

“Cause if you didn’t want to..I.” König began to stutter, his hands rubbing against the back of his neck. You smile, reminded of his old socially awkward self.

“dummy..” you whisper, raising your hand up to lift his mask.

“that means the first one didn’t count, we have to do it again” you coo

He looked at you dumbfounded, lips parted in slight shock. But quickly taking the initiative by hoisting you in the air. His hands on the bottom of your thighs, making your face slightly above his.

“Kö-!” You yelp, your hands safely gripping his shoulders in fear.

He tilts up, letting you lift his mask up to expose his scarred lips. Your faces are just centimeters apart. Your breath hitched, you could almost hear your own heart pounding. Worst, König also heard it. He chuckles at your innocence, amused by how such a little thing like you haven’t already had their first kiss.

“Hey..! Don’t look at me like that!” You mumble, cupping his cheek.

“Hm, liebenswert”

You close your eyes…

SCEEEEEEEEEEE!

the kettle screeches making you squeal but Konig calmy looks toward the stove to turn it off.

“So ein Baby” (such a baby <3)

“did that scare you Maus?”

Oh and the first one meant “I missed you so much dove <3”

[shmaptainwrites]

How do you think Wilson's so might react if they found out he did a body shot off of a stripper/hooker (chases bachelor party)💀

anon i want you to know i started writing a response and then decided, hell no this needs to be a blurb so here you go

Pairings: James Wilson x GN!Reader

Warnings: drinking, a little suggestive material

Pants and Shirts

It wasn’t often Wilson’s apartment building was loud and rowdy and you knew your boyfriend wasn’t typically the type of person to be throwing parties, so you thought nothing of it until you realized the music seemed to be coming from his unit. 

A confused frown on your face, you took out your key and unlocked the door, your eyes going wide when you saw what was going on inside. Suddenly you were making all of the connections. Wilson had told House he wouldn’t come to Chase’s bachelor party in an effort to not make a fool of himself, and what was the best way to get Wilson to a party he didn’t want to go to? Bring the party to him. 

You looked through the crowd, pushing through a few people as the music blared in the background, colourful lights shining all over the apartment, trying to catch sight of Wilson. When you couldn’t but instead saw Taub sandwiched between two very attractive looking women, you made your way over to him. 

“Hey Taub, have you seen James?” you asked. 

He didn’t say a word, simply lifting his drink and pointing in a general direction, you followed his hand and saw your boyfriend getting awfully close to one of the strippers and before you could take in the whole scene, he did a body shot off her, smiling as he took the lime from her mouth into his. 

You’d seen Wilson drunk before, but never this drunk. Your measure for this was apparently the fact that he also wasn’t wearing any pants. 

You walked over to him and when he turned around and made eye contact with you his jaw dropped and the lime fell out of his mouth and onto the floor. 

“Oh shit!” Thirteen leaned into Foreman as the pair watched the scene unfold. 

You wouldn’t lie and say you weren’t jealous, but it was a little hard to be clouded by that feeling when Wilson looked absolutely moronic and dumbfounded in front of you. It was honestly a little hard not to laugh, but you settled on saying, 

“Nice pants, honey.” 

He looked down and seemingly just noticed he wasn’t wearing anything. You shook your head and went over to him, grabbing his wrist. 

“Come on, let’s get you changed before you take off another layer.” 

You didn’t say another word, but pulled him into his room, thankful you didn’t have to kick out anyone from in there and could easily close the door behind you, muffling the sound of the music coming from outside. 

You went to his closet and looked through his shelves trying to find a good pair of pants before settling on one and tossing it over to him, watching as it hit him in the face and he had to move the fabric off him. 

“Are you mad?” he asked. 

“I mean it’s not what I was expecting to walk into when coming to spend a quiet night in with my boyfriend,” you admitted. “But it’s a bachelor party, right?” you shrugged. 

Wilson struggled to get his leg into his pants as his balance was thrown off, so you went to give him a hand. 

He could see you still weren’t particularly happy so when he was fully clothed again he told you he had an idea. 

“We’re gonna need a couple shot glasses and some vodka though,” he informed you and you looked at him skeptically, but he had that look in his eyes that said he really did have a plan so you thought you might indulge him. 

You went out, getting through the crowd and grabbing two glasses and a bottle before coming back to the bedroom. 

“What do you want to do with these?” you asked. 

He took the vodka and filled the two shot glasses. 

“You might wanna be a little drunk for this.”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes before saying what the hell and listening to your boyfriend. A few shots in you were feeling tipsy, or a little more than that, and Wilson wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a kiss. 

“You needed to get me drunk for a kiss?” you asked. “I would have done it sober,” you teased, his lips still pressed against your own. 

He sat you down on the bed and laid you down. 

“No, I figured I could maybe even out the scales a little,” he suggested. 

“By?” you pushed yourself up on your forearms. 

He grabbed the vodka and looked over at you and you began to laugh. 

“You want to take a shot off me?”

He chuckled, “I told you you might want to be a little drunk for this.” 

You told him to pass you the bottle and you took another drink before passing it back to him and pulling off your shirt, tossing it to the side and lying back down on the bed. He poured the booze into your belly button and you couldn’t help but begin to laugh.

“Hey, hold still you’re spilling,” Wilson chuckled as he leaned over top of you. 

You tried your best to hold yourself still, feeling his tongue glide over your stomach. When he had finally gotten all the booze, you tilted his chin to look up at you, bringing him closer before your lips eventually met again in a long drawn out kiss. It was drunk and messy just like the whole situation, but when he looked down at you and kissed your jaw, moving down to your collarbone mumbling against your skin, 

“I’d do body shots off you over a stripper any day,” you laughed again. 

“I think you’ve proven your point.” 

“I wouldn’t mind proving it again,” he said, pressing kisses all along your chest and stomach. 

“I think you’ve had enough to drink,” you got him to look up at you again. “But now that I’m here and you got me tipsy I might be convinced to dance very inappropriately with you in front of people.” 

“God, I love you,” he grinned and you pulled him in for one more kiss before both standing up to leave the room before Wilson quickly pulled you away from the door. “Your shirt,” he handed you your clothes and you pressed your lips together and laughed. 

You really were perfect for each other, down to the fact that the clothes you forgot to wear complimented each other and suddenly it became very easy to not feel jealous anymore.

[ljblueteak]

Obsessed with how Taub, Thirteen, and Chase decide what to do when it looks like their prank in The Down Low (6x11) is going to result in Foreman leaving because Cuddy won't give him a raise and they've tricked him into thinking he makes less than they do.

Taub is the first to suggest they own up to the prank and tell Foreman. Thirteen explains why that won't help, then Chase says they have to confess to Cuddy.

Taub has some doubts going to Cuddy will work, but it looks like Chase's idea wins out. Then Thirteen takes the lead on telling Cuddy

Thirteen: It was all our fault. Taub: We were screwing with Foreman, trying to make him think he made less than we did. Obviously, things got out of control. Cuddy: Well, someone does something stupid and insensitive, I always figure it was House. Good to know it's catching. Chase: Look, there is no other job. He was just trying to get a raise. Even if you gave him a little more money, I know he'd stay. Cuddy: I'm not giving Foreman a raise because the three of you decided to amuse yourselves. Thirteen: We know, and that's why we want you to take it out of our paychecks.

And they're a unified front about giving Foreman money out of their own paychecks even if Taub has a very brief moment of hoping a different solution will work out.

The best part? Foreman was playing them but also must have trusted they'd all come through for him!

[bluespace-writer]

Hey!! What’s up? B]

Is it alright if I request a story about Medic having a little niece reader who comes to visit him at the base, and she’s basically exactly like him? She’s just a little evil genius in an unassuming, adorable form who tries to copy everything he does and be like him <3

Thanks! Sorry if this is oddly specific, I just really love family fluff (probably pretty obvious at this point)! Take as long as you need if this is something you’re cool with doing! :)

[💀 same. Family vibes with comfort characters are always fun!]

Little Taube

◇ TF2 Medic and ChildFem!reader [platonic, family dynamic]

Ah, RED Base. A place like no other where one of the most dangerous mercenaries lives under one roof. All nine of them were sitting in the living room, doing their stuff, laughing, and enjoying the rest of the free day. Pyro decided to draw something on the calendar (like she always does), but he stopped and tilted his head a bit. Without a word, they approached Medic who was having a nice conversation with Heavy.

"Ja! Last battle was great! Do you remember fear on their faces when we-"

"Mmmm!" Pyro pulled Medic's arm, pointing at calendar.

"Ah! Pyro, I'll see your drawings later" Medic turned his attention back to Heavy. Pyro a bit mad that she was ignored, took the calendar down from the wall and held it close to the Medic's face.

"Pyro! I said I'll- wait" Medic paused.

"Today is, the day! Today is the day!! How could I forget!"

He didn't even say thank you to Pyro. He just sprinted back to his laboratory. Others were a bit confused, they knew Medic was always strange and it wasn't something weird seeing him run back to his office when he suddenly got an idea for another experiment but it was different this time. He looked worried.

Medic opened door to his Laboratory looking around. Scout and Spy managed to catch up to him.

"Uhh Doc? Ya alright?" Scout asked.

"Do I look alright Scout? She's probably here and I'm not prepared!" He looked around smirking. "She is probably already hiding in the walls...-"

"She? Who is she?-"

Suddenly Scout found himself with a bag over his head, struggling to take it off. Spy stepped back and was splashed with cold water straight from the bucket. Then, the small figure jumped on Medic's back, who lost his balance and fell on the operating bed. He looked up, but even with a bright light shining on his face, he recognized who this mischievous person was.

"I got you onkel!! [uncle]" You said, jumping around with joy.

Seeing you Medic picked you up and started to tickle you. Both of you spin in a big hug laughing. You greet each other in German, leaving Spy and Scout (mostly Scout) confused. Soon Medic finally turned his attention to them, as he put you down.

"Doctor...who. is. that." Spy spoke first, sounding even more frustrated than usual.

"Right! I almost forgot about you two. This is my niece! She came today to visit me!"

"Hallo!" You said looking at Spy who only scoffed and walked out swearing and complaining. You heard him shouting in the distance "...I just washed my suit today!"

Scout finally took a bag off his head, laying his eyes on you. You looked like a mini version of Medic. He could tell you two are related based on your little smug and evil smile.

"So uh. How did she even get in here? " Scout asked.

"Thought ventilation system" you said, pointing at opened vent above you.

Medic, pat your head. "Aren't you a clever one! You listened to my advice: Always pick an unusual path!" Hearing compliments from him made you smile from ear to ear.

"Ah, that reminds me! I have something for you!" Medic ran to the door leading to the storage room

"Scout keep an eye on my little Taube, will you?" Scout didn't even get a chance to reply as Medic was gone behind a cold metal door. He looked down at you. Man, this is awkward.

At that moment, the rest of the team ran inside. Why? Well...

When Spy asked what happened, replied that he was attacked by a small demon, unfortunately, Soldier took it literally and ran through the corridors ready to fight the "demon" with his good old rusty shovel. Heavy and Engineer tried to stop him, Pyro ran after them, wondering if this was some kind of game, Sniper followed wanting to find out what is going on, Demo was drunk and dragged by Solider so he could -

"-EXPIRIENCE MY GREAT TRIUMPH WITH HIS OWN EYE!!" Solider screamed while charging at the door with shovel in his hand.

"Mhah ghaahahasammm mmmueaash" uh- Demo- replied? I bet he wasn't really sure what was going on.

Solider continued to shout, "SEE?! HE IS ALREADY SPEECHLESS! And I haven't even started that KICKING THAT THING UNHOLY A-"

They found themselves in Medic's laboratory. Scout jumped away screaming while you were standing completely still. Everyone looked at you with shock and confusion.

"It's even worse, IT'S A DEMOM BABY!'" Solider shouted, ready to swing his shovel at you, fortunately, Heavy stopped him.

Heavy shook his head "Solider will not hurt tiny child."

"YOU'LL THANK ME LATER! NOW LET ME GO BEFORE IT STEAL OUR SOULS!"

"Now now calm down ya'll. I'm sure there is an explanation" Engineer said, standing between you and rest of the mercenaries.

"I have one!" Scout yelled having everyone's attention "You guys never gonna believe it!"

Meanwhile, as Scout was explaining the situation (and skipping having his head stuck in the bag) you played with Medic's doves. You quickly made a bond with Archimedes, who sat next to you as you were feeding him with seeds and small eyeballs. Feeling thirsty, you pulled out some fruit juice from your little medicine bag. As you were drinking it Archimedes started to fly around you. You run after him trying to catch your feathery friend. In the room was a metal coffin, with spikes inside. Archimedes flew in it and sat down in the little nest he built there. You stepped inside and giggled, turning Demoman' attention on you.

Still drunk but aware of your presence walked up to Scout who was surrounded by others and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Ayy, is twad kid suppase to be twer?" He pointed at you, standing in a coffin-shaped contraption that started to creak. Everyone looked at you with horror.

"OI! Lady! What are you doin'?!" Sniper shouted.

You turned around, but at this moment doors to the coffin closed shut. They all gasped and held their breath as red liquid started to pour from under the door. When they thought things couldn't get any worse Medic came back.

"My little Taube! I have the perfect present for- ah! What is going on in here?" He asked with smile on his face.

They turned around, Solider spoke first.

"We have good and bad news. The good news is that the demon who was here is GONE! The bad news is that you lose your niece in the process"

"Was?"

Silence filled the room before knocking was heard.

You knocked twice and shouted "Hallo? Can someone open it, please? I'm starting to run out of oxygen to breathe"

Hearing your voice was a big surprise to everyone. Heavy did not waste more time and quickly used his strength to open heavy metal doors that shut down on you. Ready to see you pierced like cheese Scout covered his eyes. Others watched as big doors opened....

You stood there with a straw in your mouth looking at the juice carton, stuck in on the spike leaking the last drops of the red juice on floor.

"That spike wasted my juice" you said calmly. Everyone sighed relieved that you weren't hurt. Medic walked up to you, picked you and sit you down on chair.

"Mein Taube, please be careful next time. You were lucky this coffin is too big for you!"

You nodded and held your hands together "I'm sorry onkel. I just wanted to play"

"Ah, boredom. Always leads to danger. Well then, I have no other choice now than to give this to you!"

Medic reached into his suit and took out a small metal bone saw. Excited you took it thanking and hugging him. Engineer seeing you are safe glanced at the coffin again, he stared at your wasted juice, he smiled and walked up to you.

"Nice to see you're still an intact young lady" Engi said.

"You know I can get you new drink. What would you like? Orange juice, tea?-"

You walked up to him excited and said "Apple blood!"

"Uh. Don't ya mean apple juice" Engi asked to be sure he heard you correctly.

"No" you said with bright smile on your face.

Engi didn't ask any more questions, he just shrugged his shoulders and went to the kitchen to bring you your requested apple blood.

Much later you enjoyed your drink while gazing at Medic, who was operating on Heavy. You couldn't help but giggle as they both make funny jokes. Soon Medic whispered something to Heavy, who looked at you and slolwy noded.

"My Taube! Can you come here?" Medic asked. He didn't have to wait long, happy to see his work up close you walked up to him, excited.

"I'll teach you about my newest discovery! I created an incredible machine that can make my patients invincible for up to 8 seconds!"

You gasped and looked at Heavy's heart.

"This isn't his heart. Is it baboon's?"

"That is correct! Good job! I see you have read the books I sent you" he patted you on the head.

"And what is that?"

"This is the übercharge. It's still isn't finished. I want to make work with my other Mediguns, unfortunately, it still doesn't want to!" He sounded frustrated at that moment. You looked at a metal piece permanently stuck to Heavy's heart. You took out your small gloves from your purse.

"I tried everything! I tried changing its rate, position, and cables, but nothing worked. ...I think I must reconsider visiting my devilish friend."

While Medic mumbled to himself you cheerfully changed paces four metal pieces.

"Come on...come on...." you said to yourself. Medic stopped talking and observed how Heavy's heart started to glow. Seeing this you started to laugh. Laugh so hard and maniacally as Medic himself does when he succeeds. Heavy nervously glanced at Medic, but Medic reassured him that everything was okay with a gentle smile and nod. You glanced at your uncle a bit embarrassed.

"I apologise onkel. Did I...broke it?"

"Broke it?" Medic said surprised "My dear you just fixed it! I can't believe that the answer to that problem was so close and easy!"

Your eyes lighten up. Later Medic was testing his Übercharges, and you were allowed to über Heavy! It was fun to know how your uncle feels when he is helping his team. Strong. Important. You liked it!

Medic looked at the time. It was late. He glanced at you, to see you lying down on his medical bed, already closing your eyes. He chuckled and covered you in a warm blanket. You smiled at him, as he messed with your hair.

"I'll still be working, so if you wake up in the night, I'll be there"

You nodded and lay your head down on a soft pillow, probably filled with feathers Medic's doves leave him. "Gute Nacht Onkel..." you said slowly closing your eyes.

"Gute Nacht mein little Taube" said Medic softly before continuing his work.

You glanced at him one last time before falling asleep to the sounds of his Laboratory and his laughter. It was a pleasant, chaotic, full of excitement day... it was special for you, because it was spend with your favorite uncle.

You couldn't wait to wake up and see with what you can help him next.

[Thank you for reading!💀💙]

[eliotquillon]

oooooh would you write about Cameron and whatever the hell was going on in her brain when she was in Chicago between Teamwork and Lockdown? She's still waiting for Chase to come back to her and is trying to bait him with divorce papers while getting updates about him going speed dating and punching House.

i will very likely flesh this out into something better and longer when i get home for the break and rewatch s6 but as a quickfire drabble:

The move goes well. Cameron spends the night in a hotel, arranges for movers to pack and ship her things, and catches the next flight to Chicago. Simple as that. Open and shut.

If she goes back to the apartment, she’ll cave, and that isn’t—she just can’t. She has to stand for something. It’s shock therapy, she thinks; Chase will see sense, once the apartment is empty of her jewellery and perfume and favourite books. He’ll realise what he’s throwing away, and he’ll book a ticket to Chicago. A ticket home, to be with her. He’ll come, Cameron thinks, and then a week passes with her staying with her parents, and he does not call. He does not cave.

You were supposed to come with me, Cameron thinks as she rubs the spot where her wedding ring should be sitting. You were supposed to be here already.

“Robert and I are getting divorced,” Cameron tells her parents at the end of the second week. It is the first time she has said the D word—one that isn’t Dibala—out loud. Until now she has been dancing around it: temporary separation, she’d said at first, and then, he just needs some more time. “There was a dealbreaker. I don’t want to talk about it.” She doesn’t elaborate; she lets her mother assume that it’s about children, that he doesn’t want any, and Cameron’s mom practically mourns the idea of little blond miniature Chases for the rest of the evening. It goes really well. No tears.

*

Cameron gets a job running the ER at Northwestern Memorial, better than the one she’d had lined up when her and Chase were meant to be leaving together, and for the first few days she keeps stumbling over her words whenever someone asks, politely, if she’s married. “My husband died,” she says at first, which is somehow both true and dishonest. She practices saying, and I’m separated from my second husband in the mirror until it flows smoothly off her tongue. It feels truer than the D word. It feels right. Divorce, she thinks, implies that he is no longer a part of her. That he is entirely gone. That she isn’t still watching her cell phone and hoping for a New Jersey area code to pop up, just in case.

*

“These don’t go through if he doesn’t sign them, right?” Cameron checks with her attorney. She feels silly and naïve; her knowledge of divorce comes mostly from television and grapevine gossip, no intimate knowledge to impart—her parents are still, after forty years, uneasily married, and she feels cut adrift.

She is calling his bluff, she thinks. Chase loves her. He does. He will not end their marriage over this; once he sees that she is serious, that she isn’t going back to Princeton, he’ll capitulate. Chase wants forgiveness, she thinks, more than he wants to own his actions. She can give him that. Please, Cameron thinks as she gives the go-ahead for the paperwork to be faxed. Let me forgive you.

*

Foreman calls every now and then. It’s always a little stilted—outside of work, they never really were quite friends—and Cameron gets the sense that he dances around most things, House especially, but Cameron hasn’t lived in Chicago for the best part of fifteen years and it’s embarrassingly comforting just to hear a familiar voice, a filed-down East Coast accent. They talk a lot about nothing: Cameron’s new job, his apartment renovation, what’s on the news. He will occasionally mention Thirteen, and even more occasionally Taub or Cuddy, but no-one else. It’s strange, Cameron thinks: the two most significant people they both had in common have been completely erased from their pool of conversation.

She knows it’s bad news when he calls her less than three days after the previous time. Cameron’s head goes to worst case scenarios: suicides, bus crashes, random shooters. She thinks, absurdly, of Chase’s younger sister all the way over in Australia, although she’s fairly sure that Foreman doesn’t know about Danielle and, besides, Chase hasn’t spoken to his sister in years. And it isn’t any of those things, of course. No reason for it to be. Instead, Foreman says, very apologetically, “House took Chase speed-dating the other night.”

It’s the first time he mentions either of them directly, and it hits Cameron like a punch to the gut. He was supposed to come with me, she thinks blankly, as she makes all the right noises about how she appreciates Foreman telling her and that there’s no hard feelings. She can’t go back; if it’s a ploy to make her jealous, it works, but Cameron knows what she wants. She can see herself being happy in Chicago. Being free. Her only concession is that he was supposed to be here by now.

“Robert, it’s me,” she says to an unfamiliar new answering machine when Foreman eventually hangs up. Her palms are slick with sweat. “Please sign and fax over the papers I sent you. All the best.”

Cameron regrets saying that last part immediately, but what is she to do. It is a far less offensive trio of words than I love you.

*

The truth is that Cameron has never been a particularly patient person. As a child, she always bemoaned her August birthday and having to wait so long between Christmas and birthday presents; as a college student, she always raced through test papers as soon as they were in front of her; as an adult, she is little different. As she regularly tells patients, no news is good news. Chase’s lack of response to the calls, to the divorce papers, is a good thing. It means he isn’t saying no. It means he’s thinking about it.

I can’t keep chasing you forever, Chase told her once, when they were in that horrible quasi-argument that had been about her apartment drawer and not about the drawers at the same time. Cameron is beginning to understand his sentiments. The wait is torture; she signs for a new lease, and catches herself wondering if she’ll have to break it if Chase moves over and they decide to upsize. She finds herself thumbing over his contact information with a religious regularity—like the rosary he used to keep in their nightstand and sometimes pore over when he was restless and thought she was asleep. He was supposed to come with her, and he didn’t, and she doesn’t know how long she can keep limping on—

It’s a silly detail that pushes her to book the flight, in the end. She’s having another one of her biweekly chats with Foreman when, ever so casually, he says, “It was just after Chase punched out House,” the embargo on either of their names lifted, and Cameron freezes.

“After what?” she asks, and she can practically see Foreman’s little self-cringe behind her eyelids at the question; God, there’s a version of herself out there that wouldn’t believe this, but she does sort of miss him. “When was this?”

“Not long after you left,” Foreman says tactfully. “House kept asking questions about the—divorce, so Chase clocked him one.”

Chase, Cameron knows, is not typically an angry person; he is even less typically angry at House, even when he was tucked away safe in surgery and refused to have anything to do with Diagnostics. The anecdote suddenly makes it very hard to swallow. He was supposed to come with me, she thinks. If he is angry at House now instead of her—

Cameron is sick and tired of waiting. Either he’ll sign or he won’t. Either he’ll come home with her, or he’ll stay. And it is safe now, she thinks. He will see her with the papers in hand, and he won’t be able to ignore her. He will know that this is it.

He’ll make the right decision, she thinks. This time, he will. She books a single plane ticket to New Jersey, and gambles on a double return.

[malinaa]

love the idea of post s6 house amputating his leg. like yes i adore the hilson in s8 even though it makes me wanna tear my eyes out in grief but in fic obviously he COULD have a happy ending in that i think he’d only amputate his leg to get wilson to agree to chemo and he and wilson would have a fight about wilson’s choice to die with dignity (but obv paralleling the pilot where house says we can live with dignity we can’t die with it) and how wilson doesn’t want to be stuck in a chemo suite, suffering and in pain, wanting to die and then house comes in with some variation of that speech he gave taub where he’s like “i’m in pain every day, wilson. i wake up in pain, i go to work in pain and sometimes i want to give up. i’ve thought about it so many times—just ending it. i feel like i’ve been wanting to die longer than I’ve been alive but i’m still here. i’m here because…” [insert a very meaningful pause as house looks away from wilson’s eyes] “because there are a few things worth living for.” then house catches wilson’s gaze again, heavy with meaning.

and then wilson dry-swallows and says, “house…” but nothing would come out.

house says, “if you do chemo, i’ll amputate my leg.”

and wilson startles! he’ll stammer and say something like, “house, what are you—it’s your leg!”

idk if they’re standing or sitting or smth but im imagining house rubbing his thigh or tapping his cane on the ground before saying, “i don’t want to be in pain anymore.” i don’t want to die anymore, goes unsaid. but.. BUT: “but i won’t do it unless you stop being a suicidal moron.”

“that’s not fair.”

“when has life ever been fair. i’m crippled and you got cancer. just do the damn chemo.”

a beat. “okay.”

“okay? really?”

wilson laughs. “what, you didn’t think your speech would work?”

house rubs his thigh again. “i was willing to do anything to get you to agree.” he lets some honesty bleed into his voice. “i’m not living without you, wilson.”

“all right, house,” wilson says. “you won’t have to.”

[dontfeeltoohot]

I wrote some Chase fic and it's @softsicknose 's birthday!!!

This is written in a different POV- Martha Masters' from season seven. I really love her, and I enjoyed stretching my writing comfort zone for her. I hope you enjoy!!!

XXX

Chase is late. Late, she’s found, is based solely on when House arrives (unless they’ve been given a time by Cuddy). Chase is usually always early. Early is determined by the time at least two of the team are in the diagnostics room. Out of all the times she’s walked through the glass doors and into the room in the early morning, he’s only been absent four times. All four of those times have also seen him strolling in before their boss.  The fact that she, Taub, Foreman, Doctor Hadley and even House are here and Chase isn’t is odd. Martha likes routines, likes things to stay the same and this disruption in the day to day has her feeling anxious. Her prefrontal cortex is telling her that the blonde is probably just stuck in traffic and there’s nothing to worry about, but it doesn’t stop her from fiddling with the pen she’d borrowed from the man earlier that week. 

No one else mentions that the intensivist is missing, and maybe they all know something she doesn’t? It wouldn’t be the first time- she’s becoming used to being left out of things or being cast aside as an inside joke is told. She’s never gotten the courage to ask what some of the things they say mean, because when it comes down to it she’s here to learn about medicine and science, not about Foreman’s brother or the reason Doctor Hadley was in jail. 

Seventeen minutes after they start the differential, Chase pushes through the door, looking minorly rumpled but otherwise fine- attractive as always. The realization that she’s just called the blonde attractive sinks in. Objectively, she’s aware he’s much more pleasing on the eyes than anyone else on the team; except maybe Doctor Hadley, and that statistically blonde hair and blue eyes tend to lend themselves to what the world has deemed beautiful. His accent doesn’t hurt either. 

Get it together Martha, it’s Chase. Chase, whose password is password, who sleeps with three women in one night only to forget their names. Chase, who does crosswords instead of listening to their boss. Chase, who is also an amazing intensivist and who has gotten more correct diagnosies than anyone else since she’s been here. Chase, who always looks just a little put out when House doesn’t latch on to one of his jokes or praise him when he’s found the correct answer. 

“Chase! How kind it is of you to grace us with your presence.”

The words snap the brunette out of her trance. 

As House snarks, a dark blue folder is thrown at the man who tries to catch it but fails. Instead it hits his shoulder and flops onto the table. Taub and Foreman are reading through their own copies, seemingly unbothered by the disturbance, that or they’re tired of House’s antics. Doctor Hadley is glancing up at Chase with a furrowed brow but he gives her a shrug and sits down, leather messenger bag swaying on the back of his chair. 

With how close he’s sitting, Masters can smell his cologne- something aquatic and airy, no doubt to remind him of Australia and its beaches. As the team bounces ideas off one another, she notices Chase pressing the back of his pointer finger against his right eye- closed. The structure of his jaw tells her it’s clenched, which indicates he’s either annoyed or possibly in pain. Annoyed seems much more likely. 

“What about you, Captain Kangaroo? Any ideas in that pretty head of yours? Or did the one too many drinks you had last night impair its functioning?” 

“Actually, the effects of alcohol wear off in usually six hours unless your metabolism is slow. Even then, it’s likely to be around eight or nine hours,” she offers. 

“I didn’t drink last night, and that insult was sub par,” Chase says as if he’s been waiting for some kind of accusation. “Could be a DVT that traveled to her lung.” 

Something about his voice is different today, it’s lower, maybe? She’s not sure which adjective goes best, but she watches as he swallows and his adams apple bobs unnaturally slowly. He goes to automatically grab a mug that’s not there, hand halfway outstretched before he drops it and rubs the lower half of his face. House’s eyes drag over him like a cat stalking his prey but the older man doesn’t say anything, instead he just sighs, then twirls his orange expo marker in his hand, staring at the list of symptoms on the board. 

“DVT was checked for, next.” 

As Martha wracks her brain for different causes of the new patient's afflictions, she hears rather than see’s Chase shift in his chair, then a breath being inhaled and snagging. 

“h’ihnGgkt! HnGXxt! hh-NgXTtuh!!” 

The sneezes are far quieter and less obtrusive than she’s imagined. She’s thought since starting that the blonde’s sneezes would be loud and harsh, slightly dramatic. These are small and very obviously meant to be quiet. Interesting. 

“You shouldn’t stifle like that, you can burst your eardrums from holding a sneeze in,” she comments after his last one, watching him raise his eyes from the folder, one eyebrow quirked upwards. She flushes, unsure if the comment was appropriate. She just wants to help! What if Chase blew out an ear drum from being careless? She’s simply doing a kind thing, she tells herself. 

“I’ve done it my entire life, Masters, think I’ll be alright.” 

As Foreman suggests an alternate cause, Masters nods and writes down both ideas, wanting to keep up with the details of the case, even if they turn out to be wrong. A sniffle breaks her concentration and as subtly as she can; feigning looking at the clock, she glances at the doctor next to her, noting the barely visible shadows under his eyes. Not enough sleep, then. The rest of the DDX goes as usual, with House giving them all assignments. She gets put with Taub to go break into the patient's house. 

“Do you really think this is a good idea? She can’t keep her holier-than-thou mouth shut when it comes to this type of stuff. Wouldn’t it be better for me and…anyone else goes?” 

The med student frowns and twists at her cardigan, headband feeling suddenly too tight. Her cheeks feel warm and she knows her capillaries have opened and blood has rushed to show her emotions whether she wants to or not. Foreman gives a low laugh, rolling his eyes. Chase looks like he might say something but Doctor Hadley beats him to it. 

“If you’re so worried, then do the labs and I’ll go with her.” 

Surprise drives out the embarrassment of feeling like an unwanted dog at the pound. Didn’t Doctor Hadley dislike her too? Why was she rushing to her aide? Was this another joke she was going to be the butt of? She chances a look at the older woman and sees her smiling. 

“Us girls have to stick together, right?” 

“R-Right.” 

Taub blows out a breath from his puffed cheeks and nods, saluting her. 

“Thanks, I owe you one.” 

“Alright children, play nice,” House calls from where he’s hobbling through the door to his connected office, tone indicating he doesn’t actually care what’s being said to one another. 

The car ride to the patient’s house is filled with an awkward silence. Martha’s unhappy she has to go at all, it’s unethical and illegal. No one else cares and she wonders if it’s because of House or their own morals. Her mother taught her right from wrong at a young age- what did everyone else’s mother teach them? As she watches trees go by, Doctor Hadley fiddles with the radio and then looks over when they stop at a red light. 

“So, how’re you liking it on the team so far?” 

“It’s been, uhmm…interesting? Definitely seeing more than what I’ve been exposed to in my own world. A lot of it’s for the worse,” she trails off, her last sentence barely audible, but the other woman must hear it. 

“You know, this team has been through a lot. And a lot of things have changed all of us, but when it comes down to it, we’re here to do our job and save people. If that means breaking rules, well.” A pause. “Is it better to watch someone die while keeping yourself pure or save an innocent life and do something risky?” 

For once, Martha’s unsure of the answer. Both are morally wrong- is there an answer that’s better than the other? It feels like some kind of perverse test so she crosses her arms against her chest and tries not to act like a petulant child. 

“Is that why you’re all so codependent?” The words tumble from her mouth before she can stop them. She wants to smack herself.

Doctor Hadley- Thirteen, as the boys call her for unknown reasons, laughs and a smile appears. 

“I wouldn’t say codependent. We just work well as a team. We also work well individually. Chase was first to work with House, then Foreman joined. After they left, Taub and I were hired. Foreman came back, and then Chase. We all fell into an easy team who can communicate pretty well.” 

“House likes you all. Was that, did he-“ she sighs and tries to reign all of her thoughts together. “Was he like that with everyone who’s been part of his team before? Or were there others who were treated like me?” 

“I think that that’s a question for him, even if he won’t answer it. He doesn’t hate you. If he did, you wouldn’t still be here. He obviously sees something in you that he wants to cultivate.” 

Martha isn’t sure what to say to that, so she nods and let’s the silence fall around them again. She’s never been good with small talk, and now it’s apparent she’s not good with any kind of talk. 

They get back to the hospital two hours later, when the clock is about to hit noon. The women head to diagnostics but it’s empty, so they reroute and take all of the plastic baggies full of their findings to the lab to start working. As they approach the large room, Martha notices a familiar figure sitting in the corner with his back to the door. He’s got his lab coat on now, and from what she can tell he’s got his chin leaning on his hand, posture screaming ‘I’m bored’. He must be waiting for a test to finish up. 

“Hey, why don’t you go find House or Foreman and let them know I’m about to run the tests,” Thirteen suggests, taking the large bag full of items and holding it. “Otherwise, House will bust in and scare the hell out of us.” 

Martha gets the feeling she’s being deliberately shooed away. There’s more than enough things that need to be tested for them to both be running them at the same time, but the inflection in the woman’s voice indicates a finality attached to her words. 

“Okay, uhm, I’ll let him know. You’re not going to do some crazy illegal test are you?” 

“No, I just think he should be updated,” the woman says in an almost trained voice, calmness radiating from her sudden tone. 

“Right. I can do that.” 

The brunette gets half way down the hall when she realizes she has no clue where their grumpy boss might be. Not wanting to explore the entirety of the hospital, Martha turns around and starts to walk back to ask her coworkers. When she gets close enough to see into the dimly lit room, she freezes. The two seem to be arguing. Chase is still on the stool in front of the microscope, looking up at Thirteen with a petulant, almost defiant look on his face. Feeling like interrupting might not be a good idea, she goes off in search of House, feeling more out of the loop than she has all day. 

XXX 

“Tests were negative.” 

“Same with ours.” 

Thirteen and Chase walk in; a much needed interruption to whatever the other three men on the team are talking about, to inform them of their findings. House sighs and stares at the board again, twirling his marker. Taub looks up from where he’s munching on his hospital-prepared sandwich from the cafeteria. She’s already finished her own salad, but Foreman is still working on his. They nabbed sandwiches for the other two, now sitting in the middle of the large glass table. 

As expected, Thirteen grabs hers ravenously, having not eaten for hours. Chase, however, sits and doesn’t so much as look at the last wrapped up sub, instead grabbing the folder to look at once again. Foreman and Taub look at the Australian, confusion written on their faces. 

“You’re not eating? You always eat. You eat more than me and Foreman combined,” the eldest of the four questions. 

With a frown, Chase grabs the sandwich and opens it, not breaking eye contact with the neurologist. He takes a bite and swallows, keeping his face impassive. 

“Better?” 

“Loads,” the man deadpans, rolling his eyes. 

Throughout the new round of ideas, Martha notices Chase hasn’t touched his sandwich since the initial bite. He’s procured a water bottle from his bag, sipping on it every few minutes, but the food goes untouched and unnoticed by everyone else. She thinks she sees House’s eyes sweep over the intensivist, but she might be imagining things- House may play favorites but the idea of him caring about someone to a degree of worry seems improbable. 

Foreman gets up to throw his trash away, prompting Thirteen to as well. As they talk about even more possibilities for the patient, Chase angles his face towards his chest, ducking his face downwards. 

“ihNGkKt! h’GXKt! h’KGkTSCH’uh! SNF!” 

The first two are quiet enough that if Martha wasn’t paying attention she doesn’t think she would have necessarily heard them. The third however is stronger and Martha cringes inwardly at not only the amount of force he’s used to try and hold it in, but also at the soupy sounding sniffle after. He gets up immediately, striding across the room to the kitchenette and plucks a tissue from the box they have sitting there. She notices he doesn’t blow, merely just wipes at his nose before pocketing the tissue and washing his hands. At least he’s hygienic.

“Bless you,” Taub throws over his shoulder casually. 

Martha watches as the blonde ignores him, moving to snatch the 90% uneaten sandwich up instead and set it in the mini fridge to finish later. The medical student has the urge to throw out yet another statistic about the act of sternation but is interrupted by all six of their pagers going off- saved by the bell. 

The rest of the day is a haze of the patient crashing, adrenaline, House getting angry for not being able to figure out what’s wrong, and everyone else picking up his energy. House is the determining factor of a lot more than she’s realized, as Foreman snaps back at their boss when he starts telling them they’re all morons. He goes as far as to insult not only Chase, but Thirteen, which Martha hasn’t witnessed yet.  

“House, we’re trying. We can’t think any faster,” the dark skinned man frowns. 

“Oh yeah? I bet I could make you think faster if you want to keep your job!” 

“You’re not going to fire any of us,” Chase drawls from where he’s sitting, having moved from the uncomfortable metal chairs at the table to the slightly less uncomfortable chairs in the corner of the room. 

“Wanna bet? You of all people should know I can and I will,” the older man sneers, moving closer to the blonde. 

Martha has an odd feeling in her stomach, something between anxiety, anticipation and most of all, surprise. Does House mean he’s fired Chase before? Surely not, not when they’re so obviously the most in-sync out of everyone. For a split second the intensivist looks like he’s going to stand up and go at it with their boss but instead he just shrugs and presses the tips of his fingers to closed eyelids. 

“Exactly. Now think.” 

Finally, Thirteen comes up with a semi-plausible idea, and though House makes it known he doesn’t truly believe it, they’re ordered to go in and check the man’s mitral valve. Doing something is better than nothing, Martha agrees. 

“Chase, scrub up and take Taub and Ms. Goody-two-shoes with you.” 

“Can’t we have Masters do-“ 

“Absolutely not. This isn’t time for a learning experience, this is time to cut open this guy and fix him so he lives. She helps, you do.” 

A grumble of incomprehensible words are drowned out by Taub getting up out of his chair and patting her shoulder, leaning his head towards the door as a gesture to tell her to follow. She does, not wanting to deal with any more childish back and forth arguing. As they all head down the hallway, Masters looks at Taub for direction. She doesn’t understand why Chase is upset she’s not doing it- usually it’s the other way around. 

As the three slip into the empty elevator, Chase uses the inside of his wrist to scrub at his nose, sniffling yet again. Normally Martha wouldn’t notice these things, but he was late, so now all her attention is solely on him. It’s definitely not because he’s gorgeous or funny or the only to even remotely build her up sometimes. 

“So why don’t you wanna do the surgery?” Taub asks, turning to the taller man. 

“Because it’s cold in the OR and I’m already freezing,” Chase grumps, pulling his lab coat tighter. “Scrubs can only keep you so warm.” 

[all-pacas]

more chase md and stacy!cameron hcs. more chase md and stacy!cameron hcs. more chase md and stacy!cameron hcs.

OK, tangent about cameron's 3rd husband aside:

To really drive home the parallels, Stac—Cameron comes to Princeton in season tw—Chase's second year on the job. So a year after House's 'death.'

She's just gotten divorced, she's running out of places to run, Foreman offers her a job. And that's humiliating, but also. She has a kid — let's say a boy — to worry about, she can't do her usual run to a new part of the country thing, she doesn't want to stay in Chicago.

Chase has nooooooo interest in talking to her. He's not showing up at her house to pretend to catch rats, he's not trying to prove she secretly loves him and came back for him. Nope. Not even close. She got remarried less than a year after they divorced, he's not that kind of pain.

Cameron is the one who is doing the insane House stalking thing. Because. Excuse you. Chase is ignoring her? They are colleagues and they are friends and he's avoiding her? She just got divorced again and is trying to prove to herself that she doesn't ruin everything she touches, that she is capable of relationships, that, okay, third husband was a rebound and a mistake but! Her second marriage was fine, right? Her exes don't all hate her, right? And, well, she's lonely. She did fuck up her life. She's giving Chase a bit of the Dead Husband Rose-Colored Glasses, looking back on a time that was better than this. And for real. It bugs the hell out of her that he's freezing her out. She keeps scrounging up consults for him, or offering to help him get the paperwork and diagnostics under control, or go out for drinks to celebrate his case/new job/whatever, and Chase is like [thumbs up] nah

He won't even play with her baby. Like not in a "alas! The child of another man!" way, he's just uninterested in engaging and Cameron is going fucking nuts about it.

Actually, Chase is also going nuts he's just. He knows this game, and its name is daddy issues playbook. If you admit you care, you get hurt and disappointed. Better to not care at all. About anything. Or anyone. Because if they get close again, it'll suck more when she leaves again, and actually he does feel a little "the child of another man" about the baby, like, yeah, this kind of does hit all his insecurities, better to just ignore it and freeze her out!

On the outside they're both very polite to one another, exchange "how-do-you-dos" in the halls, have very civil professional conversations, but you can feel the chill, the psychic waves are just. Insane.

Park and Adams are like owo and Taub, who has quit but is always happy to share the gossip, fills them both in on (what he knows) of the marriage and divorce (obviously sans-Dibala). I think Adams is probably a little :/ about it, she had a little baby crush on Chase, but Park is absolutely torn between a) beating the shit out of Cameron or b) getting them back together. She announces both these options to Chase's face, of course. Foreman, to his own surprise and dismay, also finds himself on team "maybe this will be less annoying for me if they do hook back up," like, never did he think he'd long for a day Cameron and Chase were together, but time makes fools of us all!!!

[my-head-is-an-animal]

Problems With The Heart

Greg House x Dr Anna Harding (OFC)

Story Masterlist

Chapter 19 - Gun Point

Thirteen was a little nervous when Dr Harding walked through the door, handing over a case file.

‘Sixteen year old factory worker,’ she said, barely even looking at anyone, including House. It was evident a discussion had taken place. ‘Came in with heart problems, we’ve ruled out all the usual things and now she’s your problem. Questions?’ Taub went to ask something, but she didn’t let him get that far. ‘Good, have fun.’

Harding left the office and House looked a little hurt. Thirteen looked around for answers before House refocused and got on with the case at hand.

‘Is Dr Harding okay?’ Thirteen asked.

‘She’s fine.’ House said and moved on.

Cuddy went up to cardiology. It was a slow day, Anna was catching up on paperwork and looking to get some clinic hours in that day.

‘She needs an echo,’ Anna told a student doctor. ‘Get Dr Wright to give you a hand and come back when you have the results.’ She smiled kindly, but the slight rub on her shoulder was unmistakable.

‘Anna?’ Cuddy kept a little distance between them.

‘Cuddy, you okay?’ She frowned.

‘You spoken to House recently?’ She asked. Anna’s piercing eyes scanned her very quickly.

‘Should I have?’ She frowned and smirked at the same time, it was a warning expression and Cuddy feared it. ‘What’s going on?’

‘How’s your shoulder?’

Anna breathed in deeply. ‘He told you.’ She concluded. ‘I think Hadley told him, she walked in when I was administering the morphine.’

‘You did it alone?’ Cuddy exclaimed, quietly.

‘We know her schedule.’ One of the nurses Cuddy wasn’t familiar with spoke. ‘We check in three minutes after she’s injected herself, keep an eye on her vitals every half hour.’ She assured her.

Anna gave a gentle smile. ‘I do it here when I can because if something goes wrong, I’m surrounded by a team I can trust.’

Cuddy conceded and nodded, she was right, this was the best place for her to be. Anna went to walk back to her office.

‘Wait…’ Cuddy stopped her. Anna just frowned.

‘What is it? Something wrong?’

Cuddy was losing her courage. ‘You need to talk to House, when you have, come find me.’

Anna frowned again, but Cuddy couldn’t stand looking at her anymore. She left cardiology and went back to her office.

House didn’t talk to Anna for a week, he didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.

Before he knew it, there was a crowd of sick people being held up at gun point, being ushered into Cuddy’s office, including Thirteen and Anna, who he could see was sweating and starting to panic.

All the guy wanted was to be diagnosed, House went about it as quickly as possible trying to stay calm.

‘Anna, try to relax.’ House said, but she was still sweating.

‘What’s wrong with her?’ One of the hostages asked.

‘Severe PTSD.’ House watched her. ‘She’s going to have an episode and you might not want that if it’s the wrong type.’ He came around the desk to take her heart rate. ‘Anna, do you know where you are?’

‘Greg, I’m fine.’ She insisted. ‘I’m not hallucinating, I’m conscious, I’m just in pain.’

‘You didn’t take your morphine.’

‘I needed Cuddy to give me more, I’ve run out, that and anti-inflammatories.’

House knew she was in a bad way. ‘Just breathe, deep and steady.’

He negotiated where he could and Cuddy was smart in handing him the sedative, but it was the gunshot that set Anna’s heart racing and her hallucinations were about to take hold.

‘Anna.’ House was on the floor with her. ‘Did you forget the bit about severe PTSD?’ He yelled, he manoeuvred her into safer position while the nurse took care of the hostage who got shot in the knee. ‘Anna, where are you? Tell me where you are.’

‘I’ve been shot,’ she said. ‘You have to press on the wound, reduce the blood loss. Everything’s going to be fine, I’m going to get you home to your family. You’re going to be fine.’ She kept repeating it.

‘She thinks she’s been shot.’ House told Thirteen. ‘She’ll be okay, just try and get her back to the present. She thinks she’s in Afghanistan, don’t let her get up, she might shift between hallucinations.’

The gunman was getting freaked out by Anna’s hallucinations, she was convulsing and twitching.

‘Next time, she gets to leave.’ The gunman said.

‘She can’t move until the episode is over or she can at least recognise that it’s a delusion.’ House told him. ‘And trust me, this is the better of her episodes.’

‘You’ve done this before?’ Thirteen asked.

House shrugged, exasperated. ‘She had one in her sleep once, took me three hours to get her calm down.’

‘She’s important to you.’ The gunman realised.

‘She’s more important to me than anyone in this room.’ House confessed, but somehow that only seemed to make her more of a target.

Every step of the way House made moves to protect Anna, he didn’t want anyone to die, but she couldn’t for so many reasons. They agreed on lung cancer and Thirteen was already weak and Anna was only just coming back to reality.

‘House, she still thinks she’s been shot.’ The nurse said, having gotten her to sit against Cuddy’s desk.

House got on his knees in front of Anna, motioning for the nurse to move away. ‘Anna, do you recognise me?’

Her face was soaked with sweat, her arm was limp and she was clutching her shoulder. ‘Greg.’ She breathed.

‘That’s right,’ he checked her heart rate, it was racing. ‘I hope your high heart rate is because I’m so close to you.’ She seemed able to recognise him a little, but he needed something to root her in the moment. ‘I have to tell you something that’s going to make you hate me.’

‘I couldn’t hate you.’ She wheezed. ‘I’m in love with you.’ Her eyes were still scanning the room, like she was anticipating something that wasn’t there.

‘I know.’ He took a moment to build up his courage. ‘I kissed Cuddy.’ He said and watched her eyes starting to refocus. ‘It was a couple of weeks ago when she lost the kid. I was angry because you didn’t tell me about your shoulder and I went to her house to see if she was okay… and we kissed.’ Her blue eyes looked hurt and were filling with a sadness that he couldn’t bear. ‘I’m so sorry.’

Before she could say anything, the gunman started rushing them to get to radiology to see if he had lung cancer. Anna was still in pain from her shoulder, her legs were weak, but she was present enough to be useful.

Thirteen was a different story.

‘Will she be okay?’ Thirteen asked as her kidneys began shutting down. Anna was sitting on the floor, still sweating, still in pain, but she was conscious and that was better than he expected.

‘Your kidneys are shutting down and you’re asking if she’s okay?’ House mocked.

‘She’s upset, you should see if she’s okay.’

‘The last thing she needs is me.’ House said, miserably.

‘I thought you were important to him.’ The gunman addressed Anna, who barely acknowledged him.

‘Leave her alone.’ House warned. ‘She’s present, but the episode isn’t over, she could slip away at any moment.’

‘What happens if she does?’ Thirteen asked, watching Anna closely.

‘Then we pray she thinks she’s been shot again.’ House checked Thirteen’s heart rate again.

‘Why?’ The gunman asked.

‘Because the alternative is a little less sedentary.’ Anna spoke. House went to check her eyes what vitals he could. ‘That was the episode, wasn’t it? That was the one, when you were at my flat, I tried to get you out because I thought we’d been surrounded by the enemy, I had to keep him quiet. I don’t know why he didn’t just stay quiet.’ She began panicking and slipping away.

‘Shh, shh, it’s okay.’ House spoke calmly and quietly. ‘You did what you thought was right, you saved his life, you were in a difficult position, but you saved his life. He got to go home to his family, hug his kid again, because of you.’

Her eyes were focusing again and she was present once again.

‘Anna, I need you to stay focused for me, it’s my turn to save you.’ He told her, feeling her pulse slow down. ‘When we get out of here, we’re going to get your surgery, check you into a sleep clinic and we’re going to fix this.’

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘You don’t get to make that choice anymore, Greg.’

House understood, he hated it, but he understood. He nodded and got on with the task at hand. The gunman wouldn’t let House stay, he wanted to trade him for the cure. Anna was still floating between past and present and was harmless, Thirteen could administer the drug, but he didn’t want to leave either of them.

Eventually he was left no choice. House turned to Anna who was silently screaming in pain from her shoulder. What he didn’t count on was the back of radiology being blown out as the swat team got into the room. He rushed back in to see Thirteen lying on the floor, she didn’t take the drug and would be fine.

Anna was laying the the side, clutching her heart and breathing heavily.

‘Anna, where are you?’ House demanded as nurses and doctors came rushing in to help. ‘Anna, look at me.’ He said again and her piercing blue eyes just stared up at the ceiling, like she was staring at the sky.

‘I did my job.’ She whispered. ‘I did everything I could. I’m not scared anymore. I’m not scared of dying.’

‘You’re not going to die,’ House reassured her, helping to get her onto the second crash cart after Thirteen was taken out. ‘You’re going to live.’ Cuddy was right beside him. ‘Anna, are you with me? You’re going to live.’ He suddenly had a brain wave and stopped the team from leaving to attend to her. ‘Major Harding, you are going to live, we’re going to get you home safe and sound. Your team survived thanks to you. Do you understand me?’

Her eyes found his for a moment. ‘Yes, sir. I understand.’

‘Don’t you dare give up now.’ He told her as she was wheeled away.

Cuddy was left standing next to him. ‘What happened to her?’

‘Pain. Gunshot. Truth. And an exploding wall.’ House listed.

‘You’d better stay with her, she’ll need the company when she wakes up.’

House turned to face her and shrugged. ‘She’s got other friends, tell one of them to stay.’

‘House.’ Cuddy said firmly, but he was already limping away to gather his things.

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

[bluespace-writer]

⁺˚⋆｡°✩ 𝖶𝖾𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝖾𝗋𝖽 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀. 𝖨𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 find and 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖳𝖥𝟤 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍!✩°｡⋆˚⁺

✩@bluespace-skull is my art blog. Or....something.

『 Requests - Closed 』

✎ I write:

- Reader x TF2 Characters- Romantic/Crush/Platonic

- TF2 x TF2 Characters- Mostly Platonic/Rarely Romantic [😅]

- TF2 Characters headcanons + interactions [like Spydad etc.]

Side note: If you send me requests please write if you want them to be Romantic/Crush or Platonic . Thank you ♡

✎ I DON'T write:

NSFW, s€x with any characters, topics that are uncomfortable for me

by adornedwithlight

> RED Team headcanoncs <> BLU team headcanoncs - [all 9 mercs]

●■ TF2 mercs x reader headcanons: [Stories are lower]

> BLU and RED Medic headcanons [When they catch feelings for someone]

> TF2 Engineer x Reader headcanons [crush,romantic]

> TF2 Vampire Sniper x Reader Headcanons [crush]

> TF2 Mercs reacting to S/O going missing - Scout, Solider, Sniper, Spy, Engineer [platonic, romantic]

> TF2 Mercs - Apologising s/o after an argument- [platonic, romantic]

◇ TF2 related stories:

> TF2 Scout reunion with reader who was a friend in his past Headcanons [platonic, Male Trans! FTM Reader 🏳️‍⚧️]

> Seat saved for you: TF Mercs and GenderNeutral!Reader - [platonic,family dynamic]

> Mission, father Spydad action story [Spy and Scout, platonic]

> 𝖶𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗌𝖾 TF2 Sniper Fic [warning: angst, mentions of death, blood,respawn effect ]

> Red duo - Heavy [x]and Medic [Come on. You know what]

✩Sniper:

> Bush with flowers - Sniper x reader [crushing on Sniper]

> Rookie and a professional - Sniper x Masculine reader [crush, romantic]

> Hunting for sunset - Sniper x Masculine Reader [romantic]

> TF2 Vampire Sniper x Reader Headcanons [crush]

✩Medic:

> Unusual Medical care - Medic x reader [platonic]

> Heart in the pocket - Medic x Masculine Reader [crush]

> Bloody dance - Medic x reader [romantic]

> Birds, Bears and blood - Heavy x Medic [romantic, platonic[?]]

> Not so fast surgery - Medic and Scout [platonic]

> Little Taube - Medic and Niece reader [platonic, family dynamic]

> Not so deferent - HCTrans!Medic x Trans Reader 🏳️‍⚧️ [romantic]

✩Spy:

> Ma petite fleur - Spy x Reader [crush, romantic]

> Ma petite fleur: Garden - Spy x Reader [romantic]

> Mind and body- BLU Spy mini-story

✩Engineer:

> Workin' with love - Engineer x reader [crush, sligthly romantic]

> Engineer x Reader Headcanons [crush/romantic]

✩Pyro:

> Fire and smoke - Pyro x reader [romantic]

✩Heavy:

> Ropes and Dingos - Heavy mini-story

> Birds, Bears and blood Heavy x Medic [come on. You know what.]

✩Scout:

> Hard to ask - Scout x reader [crush]

> Mission, father - Scout and Spy [Spydad action story]

✩Demoman:

> Not so fast surgery - Medic and Scout [platonic]

> Aye got my eye on you - Demoman x reader [crush, slightly romantic]

[eliotquillon]

FANFIC PROMPT because i'm mad at reddit today. cameron doing the silly girlfriend thing where you brag about your partner to a third party (or something along those lines. cam being happy in a relationship please)

quick n easy because my brain has WORMS in it at the moment and i just wanted to get something out. set in s4, maybe a few days before it's a wonderful lie or whatever idk

It’s Kutner’s idea to crash Cameron and Foreman’s Friday lunch date right after Amber leaves; he prattles on about solidarity between fellows and joining the brotherhood, which seems to imply that he thinks he’s joining a frat and not just a new job, but whatever–Remy is admittedly curious to see how Foreman will react, and she gathers that Taub goes along with it for the same reason. It is decided that safety is best determined in numbers, and so the three of them walk up to Foreman and Cameron’s table–no Chase, since he’s on nights this week–as a conjoined unit, Kutner in the middle and Remy and Taub flanking him on either side. It sort of makes Remy feel like she’s a sidekick in a teen movie, which makes her smile; after all the ways he’s fucked with them throughout the hiring process, she likes the thought of messing with Foreman. Except Foreman glances up at them and looks strangely…relieved, which takes out all the fun of the damn thing.

“Can we join?” Kutner blurts out, knuckles white around the edges of his tray; Remy catches Taub roll his eyes at the earnestness in his voice. Cameron doesn’t even get the chance to respond; Foreman is immediately nodding and making room in the booth for them to pull up chairs. Kutner beams. “Cheers, man.”

“I was glad to hear you made the cut,” Cameron says to Remy, who is seated next to her out of necessity; Taub has deliberately angled himself as far away from Cameron as possible, perhaps in an attempt to resist temptation, and Kutner has expertly inserted himself right into the middle of things. At least one of them is happy. “Dr Hadley, right? I was hoping you’d make the team over Volakis.”

Why do you care, Remy thinks with a stab of irritation–it isn’t Cameron’s business who works for House anymore, why is everyone who has ever been remotely associated with Diagnostics so insistent on staying looped into each other’s business–but she just takes a measured sip of her coffee and says, “Amber wasn’t that bad.”

“Cutthroat Bitch?” Kutner blurts out, interrupting what appears to have been an eyebrow-raising wordless communication contest between Foreman and Taub. “Yeah, right. Be serious, Thirteen.”

“I really hate that nickname,” Cameron starts, leaning forward and looking like she’s about to go on the warpath, and so Remy is surprised at the utter daggers Foreman shoots when Taub interrupts her with, “So, what were you two talking about before we got here?”

There’s really no other way to describe it; Cameron practically melts. “Oh, just a really sweet thing Chase did for me,” she smiles. It’s actually kind of weird; Remy has heard all the rumours about Cameron’s big crush on House, listened to all the water-cooler gossip about Cameron’s first husband who died of cancer, to the point where she has found herself almost guilty of buying into all of it–the idea that maybe Cameron doesn’t really like Chase, even as Foreman sulks in the conference room about having to thirdwheel them at drinks or reminisces pointedly about how difficult it had been to work with two coworkers who were sleeping together. But right now, thinking about Chase, Cameron looks all warm and glowing, like the human personification of why people call the early stages of a relationship the honeymoon phase. “The clasp on my favourite necklace broke and he took the day off so he could rush it to the jewellers because he didn’t want me to have to wait until the weekend.” She fishes a delicate-looking chain out from under her scrubs, and holds it out to the table for inspection. “See? Good as new.”

“That is sweet,” Kutner says blithely, ignoring the way Foreman looks slightly homicidal as Cameron brightens at the encouragement.

“Right?” she grins. “And he’s working nights, too, so it messed his whole schedule up. He’s so thoughtful. Don’t ever settle,” she turns to Remy, like this was ever a concern, “because good guys are out there.”

“I don’t think Thirteen has to worry about settling,” Foreman says, bone dry; it’s halfway between compliment and insult, as most of his comments towards her are, and Remy stares at him long enough until he ducks his head in embarrassment. “What’s new with you three?” “I’m so glad you asked,” Kutner begins, and Remy cuts him off with a congenial smile at Cameron. Her job is secure now, and so revenge is easy.

“I want to hear more about this necklace story, Dr Cameron,” she says, bright and honey-sweet. She sees the exact moment that Foreman realises his mistake, and Remy goes in for the kill: “Why don’t you tell us all the details?”

[ris-multi-fandom]

Day 6 of Housevember22!

Fandom: House

Pairings: Gregory House x James Wilson

Characters: Gregory House, James Wilson, Lisa Cuddy, Alison Cameron, Eric Foreman, Robert Chase, Chris Taub, Remy Hadley.

TW for drug use and drug overdose.

November 6th: Empty

“House! House! Can you hear me?” His eyes drifted open and he could see the concerned face of a man that he recognised but couldn’t quite remember.

“Wilson, what happened?” He heard a woman approaching them, heels clicking quickly on the floor as she rushed to catch up. He recognised the voice, but couldn’t keep his eyes open long enough to see who it was.

”He’s an idiot that’s what,” he heard the man reply, “I found this,” he tried to open his eyes to see what the man had found, “this was prescribed to him yesterday, now it’s empty,” he made out the shape of a pill bottle before his eyes shut again and everything succumbed to the darkness.

————

“House, follow my finger with your eyes,” another man said to him, a black guy dressed in a smart suit, he knew the man but didn’t at the same time. He did as he was told and the man seemed satisfied.

”Can you speak?” A woman asked this time, a pretty brunette came into his line of sight.

”yeah,” he tried to say, but nothing came out.

“Your mouth’s probably just a bit dry,” the man said, “Thirteen’s now getting you some water. The woman came back and he could feel a straw being placed between his lips. He sipped on the water before it was placed on the table next to his bed.

“Can you speak now?” She asked again.

”Yeah,” he muttered, his voice was hoarse but it was there.

“Can you tell me your name?”

He went to speak but he suddenly felt tired, his eyes shut and he could feel himself sinking into a darkness that was soon surrounding him.

”We need a crash cart in here!”

————

When he woke up again it was to a blonde woman staring down at him.

”He’s awake,” she said to someone over her shoulder.

“Good,” he heard, “How are you feeling House?” A short middle aged man came over.

”Alright,” he replied.

”No you’re not,” the woman said, it was weird, he knew that she’s somebody he knows but he couldn’t give her a name.

”Can you tell me what your name is?” The man asked him.

”House,” he answered.

”First name?” He questioned. House thought for a moment, but nothing came to his mind.

”Do you remember who I am?” The woman asked.

”No,” he admitted.

”It’s me, it’s Cameron,” she told him, “and this is Taub.”

”I know, but I don’t know,” he said, “I know that I recognise you but I can’t remember anyone’s names,” he noticed the two doctors looking at each other, concerned expressions on their faces.

————

“How’s he doing Foreman?” He opened his eyes and saw the same man who had brought him in was back.

”There’s a small bleed on his brain, from what we can tell he hit his head when he collapsed, it explains why he can’t remember names. We’re keeping an eye on him but it should sort itself out, if it doesn’t we’ll go in and cauterise it,” he heard the other man, Foreman, say.

”Looks like he’s awake again,” the first man said, coming over to sit next to him, “hey House, it’s Wilson.”

”Wilson,” House repeated, “what happened?”

”You overdosed,” Wilson replied, House could tell he was angry at him, “a whole bottle of Vicodin. Empty. You took a whole bottle of Vicodin House.”

”I was in a lot of pain,” he muttered, remembering back to the feeling he had in his leg mere hours earlier, “and it wasn’t a full bottle, I had been taking some throughout the day, it was probably just over a half.”

”That’s still a lot you idiot!” Wilson yelled.

”I was in a lot of pain!” House yelled back. Wilson looked at him, anger on his face, but that soon changed to a look of concern, “What?”

“Foreman!” Wilson called out. The other man came over, “does his eyes look yellow to you?” House was suddenly blinded by a light shining in his eyes.

”Crap,” Foreman said, “his liver’s failing.”

————

“UNOS won’t let him have one, he’s a drug addict!” He heard a woman arguing.

”You’re the Dean of medicine, isn’t there something you can do?” That was Wilson who was arguing back.

”I can’t break the law and steal an organ because he’s fried his liver!” The woman cried back.

”He’s going to die if you don’t Cuddy!”

“You don’t think I don’t know that, I don’t want him to die but if I do this not only would I got to prison but everyone involved would, this hospital wouldn’t be able to do another transplant again and who is that going to help?” Cuddy replied.

”House! It would help House!” Wilson yelled back.

”Can you guys keep it down? I’m trying to sleep over here,” House grumbled and the two looked over to him.

”Hey how are you?” Cuddy asked, coming over.

”Well I’m dying, so there’s that,” he replied.

”No you’re not,” Wilson said, “I’m going to donate half of my liver.”

”What?” Cuddy asked, “Have you even thought about this?”

“I have a liver, his is crap. I have O- blood, he’s AB+. I’m a universal donor, he’s a universal recipient. It’s a match made in heaven,” Wilson countered.

”You’ll be risking your life,” Cuddy said, “I’m not saying you shouldn’t do it but just think about it first.”

”I don’t think you’ll have much time to think about it,” House said, “I’m about to crash,” the other two doctors looked over to him as his monitor started to beep and the world went dark again.

————

“Good morning sleeping beauty, we’re just getting you prepped for surgery,” he heard a man with an Australian accent say.

”You better not kill me Chase,” House mumbled and Chase stopped.

”You remembered my name,” he said, suddenly.

”So I did, guess my brain’s not bleeding anymore,” he replied.

”Well let’s get your liver fixed then,” Chase told him, before wheeling him off to the OR.

————

When House woke up again he could hear the beeping from various different machines, he opened his eyes, squinting against the bright lights, and looked around the room. He spotted another bed which was holding a sleeping Wilson and smiled to himself as he thought about how his friend had saved his life. After about ten minutes he got bored, he sat up on the edge of his bed and took some shaky steps over to Wilson’s bed.

”Wilson,” He whispered, “Wilson!” He whispered louder, poking the other man in the face.

”What?” Wilson groaned, opening his eyes.

”I’m ordering room service, did you want anything?” He joked. Wilson looked around the room before looking at House.

”From this place? No thanks, I’ve seen the food that they serve.” House laughed at this, sitting on the edge of Wilson’s bed, “you know, you owe me now, I’ve saved your life.”

”And what would I owe you?” House asked.

”Stop taking Vicodin. Go to rehab, get sober and don’t put me into this position again. I’ll just out of organ’s before long,” Wilson replied.

”But the pain is unbearable without it, I just won’t take so many again,” House told him.

”No, you’ll stop taking it all together,” Wilson said, “how about I give you a little incentive.”

”What incentive?” House asked. Wilson sat up on the bed, groaning as he tried to sit forward, “what are you-“ House started, but stopped when Wilson cupped one of his cheeks in his hand, he leant in closer to the oncologist, taking pity on the younger man who was struggling to sit far enough forward. They soon joined in the middle, sharing a slow and passionate kiss, before Wilson backed away.

“We can have something House,” Wilson told him, “but you need to be clean, because I can’t lose you,” House looked into Wilson’s beautiful brown eyes, noticing the tears in them, “I love you,” House felt his breath catch in his throat as Wilson said this, he continued to get lost in the other man’s eyes before he spoke.

”I love you too,” he said, “ok, I’ll do it” he agreed, “I’ll go to rehab,” Wilson took House’s hand in his and smiled at him. House smiled back, imagining what his future would be like once he makes it through rehab and get’s to spend his life with Wilson.

[theothin]

I swore I remembered something like this happening and it turns out it was the reverse

House: Wednesday night. Low-down-blue-meanie versus the Incinerator. Wilson: I can’t. House: Let me rephrase. Low-down-blue-meanie — Wilson: I understand monster truck code. Do you understand "can't"? House: Not when it follows "low-down-blue-meanie." Is the world coming to an end Tuesday night? Otherwise, Wednesday—(they stop) Wilson: All right, it's not "can’t." It's "don't want to." The fact is, I just don't like monster trucks. House: Yes, you do. Wilson: No, I don't. House: You've always liked monster trucks. Wilson: No, you've always liked them. I've tolerated them. Seriously, I can only watch so many hyped-up dune buggies crush so many motor homes without feeling the urge to go see La Boheme. And I hate opera too.

House: And why'd you lie about monster trucks? Wilson: I didn’t. House: I checked your appointment book. You got tomorrow night marked off, but you didn't put down what you were doing. So you thought someone might look at the book — Wilson: I'm playing racquetball tomorrow night, with Taub. House: Why would you hide that? Wilson: Because the world revolves around you. I devote time to anyone else, you'd end up stalking me and harassing them. House: You say that as though it wouldn't be fun. Wilson: And maybe I didn't want to rub your nose in the fact that we'd be doing something you can no longer do. Because I'm nice. (He picks up his lunch tray and leaves)

[Aerial view of PPTH then a cut to the morgue, where House is lying on gurney tossing a small red ball into the air] [There is a body lying on a table in the room. Taub walks in] Taub: Why'd you page me here? House: (still tossing the ball) I need you to update me on the patient's condition. Taub: Seems to be dead. Why'd you page me here? House: I need you to update me on the patient's condition (he sits up and holds up the ball) while hitting this against the wall. (House tosses the ball to Taub who catches it) This is the only place we can do both. Taub: I finished the last blood draw. House: I expect the people who work for me to rise to a challenge. Unless they don't expect to work for me. [Taub picks up a racket from a nearby table. House sits back preparing to observe] [Taub bounces the ball once and hits it against the back wall. Most of this conversation takes place while Taub continues to hit the ball against the wall] Taub: Last blood draw was at 6:00 AM. Sugar levels never rose above 120 all night. (Taub misses and has to chase down the ball and start again) House: So the glucose was normal. Means you were wrong about diabetes. Taub: (hitting the ball again) I still think it's the endocrine system. Maybe I just got the wrong gland. House: So you're going for thyroid instead of pancreas? Makes sense. [Taub hits the ball too hard and when trying to hit it again, ends up knocking things off of a shelving unit] Taub: Fine. I'm not playing racquetball with Wilson. I was never playing racquetball with Wilson. (pause) I thought it would be helpful if a Department Head owed me a favor. But it's not worth this. House: (nods) Not bad. You put on a good show. You studied up. Wilson actually booked a court. If you were really a racquetball player, you'd know that you were holding a squash racket. (pause) Tell Kutner to do a thyroid reuptake scan, I’ll go grab a nap in one of the on-call rooms. (He gets up and heads out the door)

[Cut to Taub poking his head into Wilson’s office. Wilson is sitting at his desk] Taub: I'm here to invite you to lunch. Wilson: Uh, why? [Taub comes into the office and shuts the door behind him] Taub: I've been made. House sent me back to you as a double agent. [Wilson sighs and puts his head in his hands]

[Taub comes out of Wilson’s office and he and House head down the hall together] Taub: I told Wilson you sent me to get information. House: And now you're telling me. What does that make you, a quadruple agent? (They walk into House’s office) Taub: He let me print out his e-mails. House: Wow. Excellent. Information he wants us to have. Did he let you print out his deleted e-mails? Taub: No. House: Then go back there — Taub: As long as I was sitting there, I thought I'd print 'em anyway. (He hands a stack paper to House) Top one's the one you're looking for.

House: Does it bother you that we have no social contract? Wilson: (laughs) My whole life is one big compromise. I tiptoe around everyone like they're made of china. I spend all my time analyzing: What will the effect be if I say this? Then there's you. You're a reality junkie. If I offered you a comforting lie, you'd smack me over the head with it. Let's not change that. House: Okay. Wilson: No, see, this — if you were implementing the social contract, you'd say that, but only because… It makes me feel better… House: It is kind of fun watching you torture yourself. Wilson: Do you think things will work out with my brother? [The elevator arrives at the ground floor. House and Wilson step out and head toward the exit] House: No. But when it does go wrong, it won't be your fault. Wilson: Thanks, House. House: You do actually like monster trucks? Wilson: Absolutely.

[x]

wilson LOVES being house's only friend. if house made another friend wilson would do something totally insane like make up symptoms to have a mysterious illness only house can solve

[meettheprivate]

They Get Jealous [TF2 x SO]

I'm lowkey kinda shocked I haven't written this one yet so LESGO: How they respond when jealous.

Scout: "Okay tough guy, ya betta back away from my babe or we're gonna have a problem here!" He couldn't be calm about it if he tried, which he didn't try because no one should lay a finger on his partner. Someone so much as bats an eyelash at you and they're gonna suffer for it with a bonk to the head. He'd appreciate it if you could reward his heroics with a smooch.

Soldier: "Listen here you hippie scum, if you think for five minutes I'm going to let you even attempt to steal my cupcake you've got another thing coming!" Much like Scout, he's not going to be rational. However, he's ignorant at first, and doesn't realize someone is hitting on you until the person is blatant and says or does something inappropriate. Soldier saves the day and fights off perverted scum for you.

Pyro: "Hudda hudda hudda!" They're completely oblivious, they completely misunderstand that someone is trying to sweep you off your feet. They just think it's all fun and games, until they see the stranger pinch your bum - oh look, now the place is on fire. Pyro charges with you over their shoulder as you both make a daring escape from the creep - and the burning building.

Demoman: "You come wide at me and my love again mate an' I'll be stickin' me bottle o' scrumpy so far up yer arse ye can taste the alcohol on yer tongue!" He's composed at first, but this doesn't last long. He acknowledges that someone is staring, he acknowledges that you're attractive too. He acknowledges when they offer to pay for your drink, hell, he encourages you to take them up on it. The moment they start flirting at you in front of him though? That's when shit hits the fan.

Heavy: "You think you can beat me and take my love away from me? Is cute." He doesn't take it seriously for a second, he's not even remotely concerned. He trusts you, he knows you would never leave him for someone so much weaker and feeble. You're an honest person, you're his honest person. He'll be incredibly dismissive towards anyone who hits on you as he knows they don't have a shot in hell with his love.

Engineer: "If I catch you near my darlin' again we're gonna have ourselves a problem, y'understand boy/girl?" He tries to be as cool as Heavy, and he can keep it up in front of you fairly well - he doesn't want his Honeybee to know how scary he can be. When you walk away and it's just him and the culprit though, he goes stone cold and serious. He needs to make it abundantly clear that if this person tries anything again, they won't get to see the next day.

Medic: "If your heart beats that fast for mien Taube, surely it would beat even faster on a slab as I poke and prod at it experimentation!" He cuts to the cut-throat nature in front of you, he doesn't care. He needs this SoB to know that you are his dove, and that he is unafraid to do something drastic even in your presence. You really should not be surprised by this.

Sniper: "I said piss off, before I make a necklace out'o your teeth." He's forthcoming to say the least, as the charmer would likely be stupid enough to ignore the bushman standing right beside you. With his kuriki in hand (who let him smuggle that in?!), your Sniper will be on the offensive faster than you can say "crikey" if this bloke doesn't disappear within the next ten seconds.

Spy: "How drôle." He thinks it's hilarious how someone could be foolish enough to attempt to seduce his petit amour. Oh no no, they are confused, surely. He won't waste time on threats, he knows he has you wrapped around his little finger. Yet, if the creep was nasty enough, Spy will do some snooping, find out where this fool lives and end them slowly and painfully.