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Oh Christmas Tree

December 2022,
    
“Mom…” Abby groaned her face flustered as she fumbled through the boxes of ornaments.
“What?” Lisa asked as she placed a red glass bobble atop a branch of their Frasier Fur Christmas tree.
“Where’s the angel for the top of the tree I last year? It’s not in any of the boxes” Lisa thought for a moment.
“I think it’s in on one of the shelves downstairs.” She said, fixing a nutcracker ornament onto the tree. Abby sighed and marched her way down to the basement, her blond hair whipping along behind her. Suddenly, the front door opened to reveal a skinny brown haired, twelve or so year old boy walking in carrying a bundle of Christmas and Hanukkah presents hidden in plastic and paper bags. The boy was followed by his father who limped in and added another bag to the young boy’s armful.
“Take these into your room. We’ll wrap them at the very last minute okay?” House whispered to his son who snickered and bounded up to his room, almost knocking over a menorah sitting on a small table along the way. House limped into the living room, carefully avoiding boxes as half melted snow dripped off of his sneakers and onto the carpet, and sat down on the couch to rest his bad leg after limping all over the mall all afternoon. Lisa, after finally placing the last little ornament on the tree, plopped down next to him.
“And to think that I am thoroughly atheist.” House said with a sigh. Lisa smiled.
    “Oh please, I don’t know about Hanukkah, but Christmas barely registers as a religious holiday anymore, House.” Lisa said smirking.
    “You’re Jewish!” He complains.
    “I’ve told you Greg, only half. My dad was Christian.” She says triumphantly.
    “Whatever.” House says grumpily.
    “Besides, you get presents.” Lisa says, getting up when Abby comes in holding the angel.
    “When’s the year we’re going to get that Christmas rock I’ve been talking about?” Abby glares daggers at him.
    “The year I move out.” She says cruelly and starts to put the angel on the tree. House scoffs at her as though she just shot a puppy.
    “You know why they put an angel on top of the Christmas tree?” Greg says, eager to bother his wife and daughter.
    “Don’t you dare tell that story Greg, I don’t need you corrupting our children any more.” At that very moment, Ben, House and Lisa’s twelve year old son bolted downstairs.
    “What story?” He says curiously. Lisa rolls her eyes, realizing that there was no use resisting. House smiles.
    “Da-aaaad!” Ben whines. “Tell me! Tell me!” He demands eagerly, and sits down on the couch. Grinning evilly at Abby and Lisa, House begins his lovely tale.
“One day on Christmas Eve, Santa's workshop was absolutely chaotic. The elves couldn't make toys because they were all drunk and the reindeer were all nursing a hangover and couldn't power the sleigh. Now Santa was rather exasperated at all this and he goes into his wine closet to take a drink to cool his nerves, but alas the elves and the reindeer already drank it all. Now this got Santa really pissed and to top it all off his doorbell rang and an adorable little angel stood at his stoop holding a Christmas tree. Santa in a particularly grouchy mood said,
‘What?’ ready to slam the door on the little angel's face. Now the angel didn't
seem bothered and motioning the tree, so sweetly asked,
‘Where would you like me to put this Santa?’” Ben suddenly burst out laughing, and Abby couldn’t help but join in. Lisa smirked, despite not wanting to show House that she approved of sharing this joke with Ben.
                * * *
As a kid, House never really enjoyed Christmas. It was always a fairly hostile time. His dad always demanded him to help his mother clean around the house, and to write sincere thank you notes to all of his friends and relatives. Every gift his father got him was some kind of weapon fake or real, camouflage shirts and pants, and boring military themed toys that House certainly had no interest in. His father clearly was determined to get him into the military, much to Greg’s irritation. However, now with Cuddy, he got to know what the holidays were like with a somewhat normal family. And he even got to celebrate Hanukkah too.
Cracking Abby’s door open a tiny bit, House looks at his daughter sleeping soundly in her bed. Now almost fourteen years from the Christmas when Lisa accepted her as a foster daughter, only to later be adopted by her, House couldn’t help but remember how happy Lisa was. House remembered that he was worried that Lisa would just ignore him so she could take care of Abby. But somehow, things worked out. Don’t ask him how, they just did. And before he knew it they had Ben, and they became a family. And because of this, House was for once in his life…

…happy.


Author's Note: I forgot to mention this on the other spots but I have to give credit to my dad for some of the jokes House said in the story. He told me the story of the angel on the tree, and he's the one who wants a Christmas rock
added by misanthrope86
Source: FOX (screencaps: comforting lie)
added by misanthrope86
Source: FOX (screencaps: comforting lie)
added by misanthrope86
Source: FOX (screencaps: comforting lie)
added by misanthrope86
Source: Fox (screencaps:comforting lie)
added by misanthrope86
Source: Fox (screencaps:comforting lie)
added by misanthrope86
Source: Fox (screencaps:comforting lie)
added by misanthrope86
Source: Fox (screencaps:comforting lie)
added by misanthrope86
Source: Fox (screencaps: comforting lie)
added by misanthrope86
Source: Fox (screencaps: comforting lie)
added by misanthrope86
Source: Fox (screencaps: comforting lie)
added by tubby2002
posted by campluv98
This is a poem i wrote with Huddy as the main focous behind it.It's from Cuddy's POV.sorry if its confusing in any way.& on that note pls read and review/comment it.:)critism is welcome just dont be too harsh.i do like this poem:)



Circus Hearts

It’s all just “Show and Tell”.
It’s all just for pretend.
It’s never for real.
I play and replay this origami in my head lying in my bead.
But since I fail the butterfly of black and blue flutters away. As it does, it glances at you.
You’re playing type rope with my heartstrings. Not so secretly I hope you fall.
You’ll leave the net bent,...
continue reading...
added by misanthrope86
Source: wallpaperabyss.com
added by mrseriously
Source: Greg
added by deiamartins
Source: Andreia Martins
added by velvet_fox
Source: Me :)
added by suu
Source: radiogaga80 @ livejournal
added by oldmovie
Source: middlearth
added by MusikFreak
Source: http://bernathorsi.livejournal.com/tag/picture
added by HugeEgoSorry
Source: Greg Yaitanes; twitter