I Are Daffodilian

fatalisticrebel @ 2007-02-28T00:50:00

2007-02-28T05:50:49Z

HAPPY THIRTY-EIGHTH, RSL!!!

Crack: T-Rex Rampage

2007-02-05T23:23:54Z

Title: T-Rex Rampage
Rating: R for exposure of male anatomy
Pairing: T-Rex House/Penguin Wilson...?

Warnings/Notes: Crack. This spawned from a comment-conversation between landshark1129 and I that can be found here.

Disclaimer: House is not mine. Neither is the penguin. Nor the T-Rex. Nor the anonymous runner.

Many thanks to delphinapterus for giving me a link to House's face. I could not for the life of me find one. =)

Under the cut, in case large pictures bother you.

I'm now going to go cleanse myself of the act of searching for a decent picture of a penis online. >.o

Fic: Superior Cane Tip...? - House/Wilson

2007-02-05T00:48:34Z

Title: Superior Cane Tip
Rating: PG-13 for implications and some language
Pairing: House/Wilson/inanimate objects
Warnings/Notes: Inappropriate sex toys…? And a horrible attempt at dialogue-only.
Disclaimer: House is not mine. Neither are the featured inanimate objects.

”Happy birthday, old man.”

“It’s not, I’m not, and I don’t want this.”

“It is now, you are, and I don’t care. Open it up.”

“Does giving orders make little Jimmy happy?”

…

“…What the hell?”

“I saw it in an advert on TV. It made me think of you.”

“That’s so sweet – if you discount the fact that everything reminds you of me.”

“Yeah, well, life happens.”

“Mmhm. What’s this supposed to do, anyway?”

“You stick it on the end of your cane like so.”

“Oh, Jimmy, you make it sound so dirty.”

“Shut up, and let me show you.”

“Oh, please do show me.”

“And once you’ve got it on securely…”

“Nice and tight, just like--”

“Now, if your cane ever falls down again--”

“God forbid that it actually happens to me.”

“You can step on this end, and up it comes.”

“’Up it comes’? Could you possibly speak in phrases that are more sexual?”

“House, it’s a cane tip. I fail to see how it can even hint at the sexual.”

“Anything that comes out of your mouth, Wilson.”

“You do realize that this was an act of good will?”

“And in carrying out said act of good will, you deprive me of a view of your gorgeous ass every time you lean over for my cane. You see how good deeds may be mistaken?”

“Okay, fine, I admit, the cane tip was a bad idea.”

“So glad you agree with me. Now, to devise new and better ways to use it. How about--”

“God, no, House. I will not use that thing as a…as a sex toy.”

“I wasn’t going to say that, but since you mentioned it, why not?”

“For fuck’s sakes…”

“I hope you have some lube, Jimmy-boy, or it’ll be mighty painful.”

Superior Cane Tip: *looks way too happy*

-END-

A/N: My apologies for sneaking the action in at the end. It’s justified because I couldn’t coerce a single word out of the damned cane tip.

Also, the aforementioned advertisement is, quite sadly, real. Click here for their website. Oh what is the world coming to?

Crack: DDX - House/Wilson, Foreman/Chase, Cameron/Girl's Bathroom

2006-12-21T07:37:38Z

Title: A DDX Scene From 3x11 Words And Deeds
Rating: PG-13 for implications and naughty words
Spoilers: There's a (in my opinion) not too spoilery screen cap from episode 3x11 that is used excessively, but other than that, none.
Warnings: Crack (and it's not even really good crack). Brain-meltage, maybe? It's horrible enough to cause at least temporary damage. There are so many parts that make no sense, even to me.

A/N: This is what happens when I stay up till 3 am. T.T

And because I'm oh so very logical, I give you the condensed version at the very end:

/bad trip

Fic: [untitled] - House/Wilson

2006-11-13T01:36:37Z

Withdrawal from perspi's fic (No Little Charity. Go read it; it's absolutely mindblowing.) has forced me to write something completely random.

[untitled]
Rating: PG-13… ish
Warnings/Notes: Shock collars and unbeta’d-ness abound. Quickly scraped together in fifteen minutes, so it will be a mess of errors.
Disclaimer: If I actually owned House, MD, I wouldn’t be writing FICTION about it. It would all be NON fiction.

“House, is this a...shock collar?” The newspaper-turned-wrapping-paper crinkled as it fell to the floor.

House glanced up from his chow mein to cast a look in Wilson’s direction. Apparently, Wilson had finally realized that the uncomfortable lump he’d been sitting on all evening was his “Christmas present,” never mind that neither of them really celebrated Christmas in the traditional sense.

“Mnnhf.”

“I don’t have a dog.” Wilson sent him a quizzical look.

“But we all know you’re my bitch.”

The confusion quickly receded. A delectable blush climbed up Wilson’s neck as he swallowed. “Uhm, I’m supposed to wear this…?”

House shrugged. “It works to keep dogs from barking. I don’t see why it won’t help curb your need to vocalize. Y’know, the walls in this place aren’t all that soundproof.”

The flush rose higher at the implication of what House meant to do with the collar. The image that came with that idea stirred a certain part of his anatomy more than it should have, considering how he constantly refused to completely submit of House’s dominant edge. A quick and dirty mental fight ensued. In the end, lust mangled reason beyond recognition.

He shoved himself up off of the couch, collar in hand.

“Come on.” His voice was rough as he found and shoved House’s cane towards him. “Let’s try it out.”

House couldn’t stop himself from grinning as he realized just how glad he was that their Christmas Eve was not going to be normal at all, not in any way, shape, or form.

-END-

I will willingly receive a sequel from someone who can write smut better than I can. ;D

Fic: Far From Perfect - House/Wilson

2006-07-17T01:16:53Z

Title: Far From Perfect
Fandom: House, MD
Pairing: House/Wilson preslash
Words: 1,063
Rating:: PG-13
Prompt: Written for delgaserasca's ficathon. The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself. ~ Anna Quindlen

Disclaimer: House, M.D. is not mine. That much is certain. Just borrowing the characters for my, ah, own perverse purposes.

Note: First attempt at House/Wilson of any kind, so critique away!

-----

It wasn’t too late for a man nearing forty to have an epiphany, was it? Because here he was, eating lunch at his best friend’s desk and he had realized something.

Failing once again at staving off the other doctor’s attempts at his “weird salad,” Wilson opened his mouth to speak. The only sound that came out was a muffled, “I’m…”

House, ever perceptive, managed to catch the one word and tossed him a glance followed by jibing words. “You’re…having a midlife crisis? An affair, with Debbie from Accounting? Or one of the new nurses?”

An odd look flashed across Wilson’s face and he stiffened. House took this momentary weakness and snatched another forkful of Wilson’s lunch. “Uh… It’s, actually, it’s the last one.” He blinked once as he met House’s gaze.

“Oh, really?” House asked through a mouthful. “What’s her name?”

“Don’t chew with your mouth open, makes you seem like a kid.” Wilson averted his attention to the salad sitting between them.

“I’m a little boy in the shell of a genius. And you’re avoiding the question: what’s her name?” When Wilson failed to meet his accusation with one of his own, House picked up the salad and dumped it on the other side of his computer.

Wilson tossed his fork onto the desk and sank back in the chair, a hand rubbing over his face. “It’s just another fling. Why does it matter so much now?”

“Aw, come on, Jimmy. You can’t bring up a secret then not let me in on it.”

Wilson hesitated before staring up at the ceiling and responding, “Her name…isn’t her name at all.”

House pasted on a look of mock-surprise. He glanced about his office walls wildly as he commented, “Wow! Is this hospital a magnet for closet-cases or what?”

That comment brought Wilson’s gaze sharply back to House, a startled look in his eyes. He was getting the feeling that maybe he shouldn’t have brought this up now. Or ever. He sputtered as he tried to find words to express himself with. “W-wait. What? What are you talking about?”

“No one would expect you were the next one. You’ve worked your way through three wives, and at least half of the hospital’s female population.”

A choked, “You can’t possibly think that - ” from Wilson slowed House’s inspection in that direction. Instead, he turned in another. “Of course, there’s the impeccable hair and clothing. You do realize you have a certain tie to wear for each day of the week?”

“I do not! And I am not.”

“Are not what?”

“I’m not… I’m not…you know what I mean!”

“Why not? You’re far from having a perfect family as it is. You have the skin color down, but you’re Jewish, not Christian. You’ve been divorced – three times, no less – and you’ve been less than faithful in most of your marriages. You also don’t have 2.5 kids.”

As House ticked off points in his little speech, Wilson stood and began pacing the office.

“Since when did my race, religion, marital status, and fertility have anything to do with my sexuality?”

“Jimmy, I thought always practiced safe sex! I didn’t know you were trying to spawn a legion of little Wilsons.” House then faked a double take and said, “You actually apply the term ‘fertility’ to yourself?”

Wilson’s sputtering returned once again with a vengeance.

With a smirk House rose from his desk and began limping towards where Wilson had paused in his pacing. “Oh, come now. Can it really be that horrible?”

“No. But I’m going to leave now…” Wilson surreptitiously tried to make a break for the door, but somehow, House managed to beat him to it. Just because the man had three legs didn’t give him the right to move so quickly.

There were some things you picked up about Gregory House when you spent too much time around him, and one of those things was his unpredictability. One moment, Wilson was headed for the safety of a public hallway – not that making a scene would rest heavily on House’s conscience – and the next, his entire left side was hitting the glass wall with enough force to make it shudder.

As the initial shock passed, Wilson opened an eye to find House’s face awkwardly close to his own. The cane was pressed tightly enough against his chest that it made squirming uncomfortable, not that he could stand motionless under House’s glare. Still, he couldn’t help but give a quiet sigh of relief when the cane’s pressure lifted slightly.

“Will you tell me now?”

One half of his mind screamed at him to concede. The other half had the guts to say, “No.”

“What if we exchange secrets? It’ll be like a slumber party!” House continued, “Besides, you know you can’t hide anything from me. I’ll find out eventually. It’ll be less painful this way.”

And then the sane half of his mind slaughtered the stubborn one.

The faint murmuring of voices out in the hall behind him barely registered in his brain. What he focused his attention on was the wall over House’s left shoulder. With clenched hands and teeth, Wilson muttered, “I’m gay.”

“What a coincidence; so am I!”

House took the time that statement bought to plant a chaste kiss on Wilson’s lips. Then he strolled out of the office, whistling some nameless tune. The congregation in the hallway parted like the red sea before him.

Wilson leaned back against the glass wall with his fingers on his mouth, very much dumbfounded by the way his friend had just kissed him. Well, at least he thought they were still friends. Did the kiss make them into something more or less?

He shook his head and stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep them away from his curiously tingling lips, intent now on acting more like the man in his late-thirties than a junior high girl. As he made his way back to his own office, the crowd split into groups and rushed out, most likely to gossip somewhere else. Plans to hide from the hospital staff for the remainder of the week – or a lifetime – were already forming in his head.

Well, Wilson thought to himself, that didn't go quite according to the script. But then again, a grin curved his lips, who needs perfection when you have House?