marshall_line



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  1. Rec 95

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    Some soft making out and going down on Eleanor in the Young family house during a huge fucking party was kind of the best experience Rachel has had since she broke up with Nick (don’t think about it) and even though it’s an absolutely terrible idea for so many reasons—this is the woman who broke up her last serious relationship, this is the mother of her last serious boyfriend, this is the epitome of all of the family issues that meant her and Nick weren’t going to work out—Rachel kind of wants to do it again. She’s only got a week left in Singapore, and she’s half-convinced this is going to seem like some weird fever dream as soon as she gets home. She can freak out about it then.

    If Eleanor actually doesn’t know what to do, maybe Rachel’s going to have to show her.

    --

    An exploration of what an actual relationship between Rachel and Eleanor might look like—featuring bonus Astrid and Peik Lin!

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    13 Jun 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    }

    “Are you happy?” she asks Rachel, because in that moment she wants to hear it. Rachel’s smile is contagious—Eleanor can’t keep the echo of it off her face.

    “I am,” Rachel says. “Are you?”

    “Yes,” Eleanor says. Rachel lies back down, throws one arm over Eleanor’s chest and presses her face close to her neck. It’s not everything, this feeling, but it’s wonderful anyway. It’s a start.

  2. Rec 38

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    An alternative ending to Bioshock Infinite. Elizabeth decides to break the cycle of violence.

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    19 May 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    }

    Watching him hold Anna tightly to his chest, half-formed promises on his lips, she notices that forgiveness feels less like flight and more like a favorite blanket. Her hand moves to her pendant, as she contemplates bequeathing it to Anna but decides against it. That Booker DeWitt belongs to her, and her alone.

    That much, at least, is hers.

  3. Rec 58

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    When Anna was a baby, he’d fetch her from her crib on nights like that and sleep with her lying on his chest, warm and breathing and safely nestled under his palm.

    (He knows better than anyone that there’s no underlying design of the universe that keeps a protective hand over the innocent, no twist of mercy on nature’s part to make sure things too horrible to imagine stay unhappened; it’s why you have words like ‘widower’ and ‘orphan’, but none for someone who has lost a child.)

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    19 May 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

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    Head or tails, bird or cage - Anna or Elizabeth. What the hell kind of choice is that?

    “You’ll be happier there, where I don’t even exist.”

    “What’s that got to do with anything? I’m not about to abandon you, either.”

    “You’ve already chosen,” she says quietly. “Somewhere out there, you’ve made every single choice at least once. If you don’t end up being the man I know... someone else will.”

    And he knows the truth of it, can feel the thousands, millions of men who are and aren’t him like phantom aches in his head, ready to go back out on the stage and speak the right lines.

    “I don’t know which one I am,” he says.

    “Then just flip it and see.” She puts the coin down in his palm. Her hand is very small in his, and very cold.

  4. Rec 17

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    Some choices are illusions. But some mean everything.

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    18 May 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    }

    Maybe there was a man, but there wasn't. Maybe there was a bird, but then there was not. Maybe there was a daring rescue, and there was, but not the one Daisy saw that single glimpse of, which might have been a dream except she knows it wasn't. Maybe there was a lighthouse and a man, but that was a lie. That was wrong. There is not always a man. There doesn't need to be. Sometimes there is no man at all.

    Maybe there was a war, and there was.

    There is always a war.

    That part is true.

  5. Rec *

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    Philomena Cunk interviews the vampire.

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    03 Apr 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    }

    “When I was a little girl, my family had a greyhound,” I begin. Everyone turns to me and stares, as if I’ve just swallowed a baby quail whole. “His name was Churchill, and we didn’t know it at the time, but he was afflicted with ‘sudden rage syndrome.’ I don’t know if the real Churchill had sudden rage syndrome—probably not, since he wasn’t a dog, and he was born in 1874 when people had plenty of things to be enraged about without needing a syndrome for it. That was a hundred and fifteen years before the release of Belgian techno anthem Pump up the Jam.”