#sol.typing

like I’ve already said it on Twitter but my gut reaction is to say that House is Orpheus, because realistically he’d go through hell for Wilson only to look back because he underestimates Wilson’s devotion . Wilson’s analysis of House in season 3 (‘the coma guy’s son’ is the ep I think ???) where he argues that House pushes at relationships until they break so he can ‘say he was right’ comes to mind

but then you have Wilson with his hero complex and universal donor blood type and his need to do anything and everything for the people he loves - with House’s record of relapse and stubbornness … I wonder if he’d turn around bc he knows that even if he takes House out of hell, House will put himself back in it

This could very much just be my interpretations of Hilson (I haven’t finished season 3 yet) so this is an open question lol

it’s Apple by Charlie xcx and APPLe from Reverse 1999 is here too because it’s an edit of APPLe to Apple . apple-ception

Todd Anderson, with his grey wide trousers and tweed jacket too hot for the California sun, strolls with his small leather suitcase down Sunset Boulevard. He picks up yesterday’s paper along the way, and skims the front cover story - an interview with the breakthrough actor Neil Perry - and chuckles to himself at the bitter tone set by the sub-heading.

“The never nostalgic Neil Perry perplexes the simple American mind,” Todd reads aloud in a murmur, shaking his head and folding the paper underneath his armpit.

Emboldened in big, square letters on an equally big and square building are the words ‘Keating Motion Picture Company’. Todd, after running his hand through his hair as he passes a coffee shop window, strides into this building, grateful for the wave of air conditioning that greets his shaky hands. He’s all too aware of everyone and everything, from the way a man’s squeaky shoes scuffle across the floor to the wide-eyed blond guy by the door, adjusting his glasses as he gazes at a clipboard. It’s busier than he thought it would be.

It takes him a few seconds to register the front desk, where a lady with glasses sits scribbling on a notepad. Her robin red nail polish - painted on each finger in between the tip of the nail and the semi-circle at its base - is stark against the black telephone, and she sighs into it, frustrated, as she crosses out her writing harshly. Todd decides to wait in front of her, trying to seem nonchalant as he nods in her direction. Instead, he gets a concerned look, and the phone is put down.

“The toilets are on the second door to your left.”

“Oh, no,” Todd wonders if he really does look that nervous, “I mean, yes they are there but I wasn’t asking for the toilets.”

“Oh,” the lady stares at him passively for a moment. Todd thinks he gets this cue.