#non linear narrative

[ena-113]

Humans can be heard yelling from one of the bedrooms. An alien crewmate, nicknamed Bob, goes to check it out, fearing the worst.

"plus 4, Uno."

"you bitch!"

the humans are gathered in a circle on the ground with colorful cards. one of them notices him.

"oh hey Bob, wanna join us? we're playing Uno."

Bob shakes his head and backs out of the room carefully.

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part2

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#my first contribution to #humans are space orcs #brain barf #not beta read #non linear narrative #humans are space capybaras #humans are space badgers #humans are space raccoons #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are deathworlders #humans are confusing #humans are scary

[dailysquiddo]

"the harsh sun beats down on dirt roads full of pebbles and dust.

its harsh rays peel the paint on the slowly decaying houses. all of the grass has long since died in the heat.

most of the houses are empty, and they have been so for a long time. some of the houses have sun-bleached curtains flapping in empty wind, shattered glass from once clean windows now littering the ground in thousands of dirty, yellowed shards like fallen, tarnished stars."

-

or, squiddo and ashswag go ghost hunting.

-

#where have i been? ive been ill #this isnt a drawing but i think its cool enough to be a daily >:) #i was going to copy-paste it into tumblr but the formatting is really important to the Experience #red-green-blue au #writing #non linear narrative #horror #(?) i guess #creative writing #short story #i guess??? #poetry #(but not really) #squiddo #the real squiddo #daily squiddo #mcyt #ashswag #lifesteal smp

[jussst-lurking]

Ok so this is for a fanfic I’m planning: if you had to pick a point over all the years where Max falls for Charles, or better where he realises I guess, where would you put that point? (You can’t choose Austria ‘22 I need that for something else).

#lestappen #fellow lestappies please help me out #the timeline of this fic is a mess #I’m going for a sort of #non linear narrative #and some magical stuff #fate is involved #and flowers #anyways I’m rambling #would greatly appreciate your opinions

[greatunironic]

title: dogfish 1/3 summary: “Sorry, little brother,” he says. His thumbs trace the muscles in his neck. “You know. It was a neat trick. But I’m afraid you just aren’t that special, in the end.” Or: in a world where after Eight escapes, and before Eleven, another child makes it out of the lab.

excerpt: In English Lit, they’re the first people in the class, which is strange, because normally Munson’s always rolling in twenty minutes late, smelling of cigarette smoke and fresh air and cruising for an invite to detention and a third tour of senior year, apparently. It’s just the two of them now, though, and Munson swings around in his chair and says point blank to Steve, “New Guy’s an asshole, right, Less New Guy?”

He shrugs, straightens the things on his desk. He hates English Lit; reading makes his head hurt.

Cocking his head to the side, Munson eyes him up and down. “You’re kind of a weirdo, for basketball, I mean. Aren’t you?”

“What?”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with weird. I like weird! Obviously. It’s just. You’re not, like, I don’t know — you’re not like the other jocks. You’ve never tried to shove me into a locker, is what I’m saying.”

“Oh.” Steve picks at a deep gouge in the wood of his desk. “Did you want me too?”

Munson barks out a laugh. “Not really, dude.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #alternate universe - canon divergence #non linear narrative #the spiritual sibling to “second hand unwinding” because i also wrote this is a long weekend induced fugue state #and it's kind of weird

[aworldofgoldfish]

Paris, 1993

He cooked for me for my birthday. It was nice. I didn’t know Mycroft could cook. There are many things I don’t know about him, evidently. He grows on you. He grew on me, that’s for sure. 

London, 2011 “Lestrade is getting a divorce.” “And how is that my business, brother mine?” “You tell me.” “I prefer not to.” “I thought so.”

Back, to him at AO3 [G]

Written for @mystradepromptsandscenarios "I  never wanted anything more"

#MMP #story writing #Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade #mystrade #non linear narrative #journal entries

[pollyna]

au: they fly black ops only, Carole lives, non linear narrative [WIP?]

Monday morning starts with coffee, chocolate cereal and the realisation that's already been two years and Mav can't remember how to sleep alone. It's '89, they're on a carrier in the middle of a ocean (he forgot which), the Berlin Wall is just a step from collapsing and Ice is napping against his shoulder. They are part of a squadron of a squadron and the patch is made with terrible colors and Mav hates it with all his heart. He said that so many times Slider has to draw him a new one just to shut him up.

By the end of the year Merlin will send a card wishing them the best, which should be?, and Ron is going to be on is way to Miramar with a leg so broken the doctors couldn't count the pieces. But for now is still Monday, still May, still drinking shitty coffee, still in the middle of a random fucking ocean Mav can't remember the name of and Ice is still napping against his shoulder. One saving grace in the middle of it all.

(They started flying this kind of mission, the one no report wants to really talk about, in the middle of the winter of the '87, between two different assignments and the worst case of flu Bradley ever registered in the history of I'm not sick Uncle Mav!. It had been fun, fast and full of adrenaline and Mav had love every moment of it. Ice had too, probably.)

1991 opens with new jets and new specs on their structure, strength and weakens all packed in a week long seminary where they have to wear black suit and tie, no alcohol allowed and they can't even use their callsign. It's where they both met Mr. Coleman and his petite wife. They are shipped out at the end of the seven days, flying on single sitter jets in a squadron with a nice patch that will come back, come back to me, with half of the men and women it was deployed with. The funerals are going to be silent promises and tears of never ever letting something like that happening again and empty casket will be send back to America to grieving families. Iceman packs their bags when the leave comes up and they're back to Bradley and Carole for a months and then some. Ron is okay now, legs under his desk and mouthing order around TOP GUN like he was born for it. Nobody can complain much, all things considered.

It's a new decade and there's hope because it's the last one before the beginning of a new century and Mav kisses Ice just a day their leave and Ice kiss him back, on a balcony that gives on a beach full of people.

(Tom is kissing Pete every morning, day and night, since 1987. It's been four years and it still makes his stomach hurt in the best of ways.)

The two years that follow are a constant moving from a carrier to a base to a carrier to a base and all of it again every other week. After the second time that happens they stopped taking their stuff out of their bags and quartermasters stopped giving them a room with other two people in. A room big enough for two, a single bed not big enough for one and Mav sleeping half on Ice and half on the materass. Sharing shirts and learning how to sew because the laundry is for military stuff not your stupid shirts Mitchell! They have to take away patches from their uniform and Pete buys them jackets, a jeans and a leather one, to not loose them. Jakie, from the last squadron of '93, makes a personalised hoodie for Iceman's birthday and Mav procedures to wear it every day until they don't touch the ground in December. It makes Pete angry and jealous in a way he never felt before. But they talk about it, they are pretty good to this day when they need to fix stuff, and Ice let him have the hoodie because it looks better on you, love. They're too far from home to be back in the USA to celebrate the holidays with the Bradshaw or even with Ron but they find a little hotel in the middle of Warsaw and Pete has the opportunity, and the privilege, to see, and hear, Tom speaking in his native tongue while being feed with delicious food.

'94 is a strange year that starts with Ron announcing his engagement, continuing with their current base position going up in flame (quiet literally), a new squadron based in the desert and then relocated by the sea, homemade cookies the commander buys in a shop that's more a hole in a wall than anything else, and the rumor of a promotion that never arrives.

(It won't the last time. If '94 should have been a promotion for both of them, '97, '00 and '02 should have been just for Ice. Between '98 and '99 Ice is going to look Admiral Cain in the eyes and almost punch him in the face. He won't punch the man but the desk will need to be replaced. I'm not American enough, in their eyes, my speaking an easter Europe language scares the hell out of them, I'm Jewish and gay Mav, they only reason they don't kick me out of the Navy is because we do things up there nobody is capable off.

At 46, when they'll retrire from active duty, Hondo will put on a ceremony to give them their medals. A four and a two stars Admirals who are going to celebrate with their family empty titles with little meaning for them.)

'94 ends with both of them in the hospital because the enemy hit both of them, a long year of therapy to be dealt with, Ron who announced he isn't going to get married anymore and a twelve years old Bradley that spends hours playing the piano and reading out loud weird science facts.

#it's a wip my brain is going to forget all about the moment i fall asleep 🙃 #au: mav and ice fly black ops only #non linear narrative #au post movie #carole bradshaw lives #(until a point) #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #icemav #long term relationship #bitter and better halves #ron slider kerner #bradley rooster bradshaw #slice of life #patches a lotttt of them #idk (jokes on you i know) where this wanted to go #wip

[trhor]

heir

/er/

noun

a person legally entitled to the property or rank of another on that person's death.                                                                                                           "his eldest son and heir"

#royal simblr #ts4 royal simblr #ts4 monarchy #royal sims #the heirs #ch: macsen #rutherford extras #trhor #trhoredit #trhor edit #a thing I made #simblr #non linear narrative #ts4 storytelling #sim: macsen #ch: sulien #sim: sulien

[twinclownsoflotuspiers]

Seafoam | XianChengXian, Stream of Consciousness (of sorts), non-linear, symbolisms

"A-Xian, have you ever seen the sea?"

What a stupid question, Mother.

Is what you wish to speak. Mother's voice is lined with smiles - little mussel shells dotting white sand.

You grab. Sand slips through the gaps of your fingers. Your mother's voice has forever been formless.

"A-Xian, have you ever heard the sea?"

You put the conch shell you picked up and place it to your ear. The sand is scratchy and you feel a few grains scrape against the lobe. There is hollowness.

All I hear is the dead, you wish to say.

You have never thought of going to the sea; why should you? When the river that laps against your toes is enough. When brown sand and silt sit stubbornly in the gap of your big toe as you wiggle it further in and don't scrape. The water is cold, the soil lukewarm. You still hold the conch and hear your own footsteps squelch wetly.

Why is the sea important? You are bound to the rivers.

"Do you know you can float easily in the sea? While it takes only one strong current and you sink like stone where the river is concerned."

Isn't water where you sink regardless whether it's salt or sweet? You wish to ask.

The river is where you learned how to swim. The river is where you found a companion. The river is where you learnt water's embrace could be warm.

The river is your friend.

"A-Xian, the river takes as much as it gives."

The river was your friend.

Your knees disappear. You watch your skin prickle and raise in gooseflesh, cold water lapping around. The river is murky and you see not a single fish. Water doesn't part but it allows your fingers to dip in and grab around. When you raise them, you watch little drops that remain and dirty silt lining your finger nails. In the dark, you think it doesn't look too different from blood.

Mother, the sea destroys as well. You think.

There is no silence when the waters close around you. There is the sound of drowning in your ears. You feel the painful pressure and you bring your fingers to your ears.

The river is cold.

The river is hot.

The river is not a friend.

The murkiness is heavy and you wonder if those are hands......fingers reaching out for you. You think if you dissolve in the river, you'll slip past those fingers like how the sand did through yours.

End

#xiancheng #chengxian #fanfic #symbolism #non linear narrative #stream of consciousness #idk what i wrote just a random word dump #jiang cheng (and maybe ymj) = river #sea = jianghu #in case that wasn't clear #mdzs

[schlock-luster-video]

On April 21, 1990 Slacker premiered at the USA Film Festival.

#slacker #slacker 1990 #richard linklater #teresa taylor #cult film #philosophical film #non linear narrative #anthology film #comedy film #comedy movies #black comedy #90s satire #1990s #indie film #independent cinema #movie art #art #drawing #movie history #pop art #modern art #pop surrealism #cult movies #portrait

[ena-113]

"that's literally impossible for me to pronounce, I'm calling you Bob now." The new human, Mia, stated looking at the repair man of the ship. "Y'know, like Bob The Builder?"

The newly dubbed 'Bob' did not infact know. Their technician, another human named Kaya, seemed to find this amusing.

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prev - next

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#humans are space orcs #non linear narrative #not beta read #brain barf #humans are space raccoons #humans are space badgers #humans are space capybaras #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are deathworlders #humans are confusing

[angel-fic-recs]

& the curtains quietly close - disstrack

Hwang Hyunjin x Seo Changbin (Changjin)

Rated : M

Wordcount : 28k (one-shot)

Genre : Secret Relationship | Canon Divergence

Description : “It’s just us two,” Changbin points out. “For once. No one’s watching.” Hyunjin smiles at him. The look in his eyes is resigned. “There’s always someone watching.”

or: Hwang Hyunjin is a member of the award-winning idol group CLÉ, and Seo Changbin is part of the famous underground hip hop trio 3RACHA. The world only knows them as best friends for eight years, and they will never know any better.

Angel's review : a heart-wrenching and beautiful story ! I absolutely adore the secret relationship trope, especially when it's linked to the music industry. The love Changbin and Hyunjin have for each other is so precious. And the more they're facing hardships, the more it gets hard to keep this relationship alive. And what hurts the most is that their love for each other never fades but grows stronger, months by months, years by years. (Can you tell i loved this story so much ???) It was so well-written, so well plotted, so well developed. This is a stray kids story that sits in my top favourites ever !

Link : https://archiveofourown.org/works/38787519

#fanfic rec #stray kids #changjin #rated m #ao3 #angst #secret relationship #canon divergence #established relationship #non linear narrative #wordcount : 20k-30k #one shot #angel-fic-recs

[gaaranotama]

THOSE DAYS

I’M NOT OK

Sometimes I’m in a constant state of sadness

I was happy just then

Then it’s all gone

Tears trickling soundlessly

Sound means sharing the pain

But solitude is all I know

I can’t speak up

Everything is screaming

Invisible among billions

Can I ever be found?

Screaming to happy songs

It’s laughable how the world moves but I remain stationary

Time passing as I watch

I feel good then I fall again

Again, again… again

A drawn on smile

Integrated with my being

An accepted reality

No one questions it

For once again I’m gone with the wind

A one man struggle

I hate this

Despise it

I seek an end

I move for the light of the happy days

Pathetic

Well its reality

Sadly

#existential despair #existential musings #i'm sad #depressing poem #feeling alone #im cryin #non linear narrative #thoughts #life is uncertain #shadows #thoughts of mine

[megamindsbigheadcousin]

Here Lies Norrin Radd

He leaves Norrin Radd at the head stone, Here Lies Norrin Radd etched on its cool surface. He leaves it just as he leaves Shalla-Bal, just as he leaves the thought of Zenn-La ever being home again, of ever being that man again. He leaves it as Zenn-La becomes nothing as a speck of dust behind him, as he realizes that it is all it will be to him for the rest of his life. A place to protect, a vow to Shalla-Bal, a ghost tied to a man that does not exist anymore, a man buried in that dirt.

He's badly wounded, sucked into the black and dragged into a fight, just as always, always the same. He fights and he fights, despite the cold and the pain. As always, he escapes with the leave of a planet, barely escaping the darkness behind him. The planet that saves him calls him Norrin, and it stills him, the agony of a familiar feeling, of that lost man deep in his chest. As always, Silver Surfer, imbued with the power cosmic dragged into the man he used to be. He sways, constantly, between reconciling them or choosing one over the other, casting the memories of the other away until he's dragged back in. Silver Surfer is the being he is, the being that he detests, blood on his hands, blood in his memories, death on his shoulders. He must, must be better, must claw himself out from under the monster he used to be (the monster he still is now) but it weighs on him, too strongly. But then he's pulled from those thoughts, fighting, once again, once again in familiar territory. He fights and he fights, and he fights just as he always does, and the darkness spreads. Blood on his hands, blood always on his hands.

Light streams through the window, Shalla-Bal at his side. A hazy film covers his mind. You're Norrin Radd one voice whispers. You're the Silver Surfer, the other one chants. But he is with Shalla-Bal, as they should be, together in their home, on their home planet. Let's make a light, she says. But then the film is pulling away. Zenn-La isn't home anymore. Shalla-Bal isn't home anymore. The other part of him fights against it. He's getting pulled away from it, away from her, away from home. Ego the living planet calls out to him, and Norrin Radd is lost again. There is no world in which Norrin Radd exists and it is not with Shalla-Bal, so Norrin Radd is no more.

Mantis calls him man, calls him Surfer as if it is not at odds with being man, tells him beneath all the silver he's still alive, feeling. The universe is at stake, Earth is at stake, his hom- Zenn-La is at stake. He's fighting, fighting for a home he doesn't want to be home, where the sun takes eons to set and Alicia Masters makes a place in his memories. He's fighting, fighting for a home that is no longer home, just a promise to protect it, ever since Galactus, since the beginning of Silver Surfer and death, long ago. In the construct of his memories, Norrin Radd dies and Zenn-La and Shalla-Bal are taken from him. He wakes to Earth and Alicia and Norrin Radd, and all the beauty, and all the pain, and all the ways they're wrapped up in each other. Trapped by Supremor, lucky to still be alive, he dreams of Mantis and Shalla-Bal, the number 4 on her dress, past and future, to a dog in the house and warmth in his chest. There is no Silver Surfer, there is no death, weighing on his shoulders, blood on his hands. The dream reminds him too much of the glimpses of American TV he caught in his time there. His board saves him, Shalla-Bal saves him, Mantis saves him. His board says You'll never be alone. Past, present, future.

The elders say the universe, or them. You can't save all three. Choose. He's the Silver Surfer, and he's tired of the weight of death, so he chooses all three. There's another part of him that says it's only Norrin Radd. Norrin Radd that loved(loves?) Shalla-Bal, Norrin Radd that loves Mantis. He saves all three, and it works, and he doesn't have time to think beyond the constant machinations of a violent universe, a whole new familiar challenge to face.

Earth becomes his home because he loses another. Earth haunts him, in his dreams, his memories, his life, a place with so many he loves that he can't entirely resist the thought of the word home. He resists, because in the chapters of his life, Earth is home because Zenn-La isn't, but perhaps he needs it, man as he is, alive as he is. He wishes he could find it, back in Zenn-La, back in Shalla-Bal, as different as they both are now.

He tells Shalla-Bal he’ll keep Zenn-La safe as a promise. It's a promise from Norrin Radd, cloaked in Silver Surfer. I promise to keep Zenn-La safe, as it was my home, long ago when I was a man. I long for it to be home now, but its become a dull pang in my chest, and I fear too much time has passed. In the grand chapters of his life, he left Zenn-La all those years ago, and it's never been his since. But he remembers going back to Zenn-La all those years ago, reminisces on all those memories brought back before reality came crashing down in the form of those Skrull planes. Remembers something else, as he coasts around planets and stars, remembers the sound of the wind and the heights of the trees, remembers the beauty before he demanded Zenn-La be the same, so he could be home. He will always leave Zenn-La, a speck before him, but as he coasts around planets, and stars, when he catches sight of that familiar blue hue, his heart will swell, and he will know that Zenn-La will always be something to him. Perhaps, to be a man, would mean to be both, to be man and surfer, one in the same. To him, surfer and man, Zenn-La is not home. Earth is not home. Zenn-La is home. Earth is home. Both hurt to think, to feel for. He pushes away from it again, flinches to the thoughts burn. Shalla-Bal searches for the man behind the silver, like always, and he pulls away until Norrin Radd dies in him again.

But it's the beginning of time, and Shalla-Bal and Zenn-La are still in his memories, not quite dead, not quite ghost, and Norrin Radd still lives, even if it is without Shalla-Bal, without her and their child and their dog and a home on Zenn-La. It's the beginning of time and Shalla-Bal and Zenn-La are still with him, even if not in the way he always longed for. After years of guilt and fighting and violence, of blood on his hands, death in his memories, the Surfer and Norrin Radd plant life on Zenn-La, and the burden gets a little bit lighter. It does not fix the world, but a man has to grow. A whisper and a chant in his mind, to everything he has done, from the Surfer and Norrin Radd, no more death.

#silver surfer #norrin radd #shalla-bal #mantis #non linear narrative #constructive crit very welcome! #heavy on the non linear #because this went everywhere #mostly inspired by silver surfer black

[iwonderwh0]

I need an advice from experienced Tumblr/ao3 users about tumblr etiquette + some more questions

What I want to do is to post a fan fiction, but the catch is that it is not linear. Instead there are a couple different branches of story reader can choose from that'll lead to different outcomes. So my question is, what is the best way for me to do so?

I thought of posting every branching piece separately as posts and connect them via links to those different posts on Tumblr. This looks like something that'll work. The drawbacks of that method is that it'll create a bunch of posts under the same hashtags and I'm not sure if it's okay think for me to do (is it?). Should I just abandon the hashtags on most of them to reduce their number on the feed under those hashtags?

Now about AO3. I've never ever used it to post anything and have no idea what it allows writers to do. If you know anything about how it is possible to realise branching story on ao3 please tell me, because I have no clue.

Currently I'm just writing everything in .md files so it's not a problem to connect them in a meaningful easy to follow way. I'm thinking of leaving a link to the whole fic as a folder, but this one method is so niche I don't believe anyone would like to actually use it as it requires some extra steps.

Please help

#dbh fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #writing help #fic #advice #I summon experienced tumblr users #multiple endings #ao3fic #ao3 #please help #tumblr etiquette #detroit become human #non linear narrative #multiple choice #multiple choice fiction #reader's choice #multiple timelines #interactive novel

[sociallyawkwardfoxwriter]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: Major Character Death Category: M/M Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Relationships: Orym/Dorian Storm, Orym/Will | Orym's Spouse (Critical Role) Characters: Orym (Critical Role), Dorian Storm, Will | Orym's Spouse (Critical Role), Derrig (Critical Role), Maeve (Critical Role), Orym's Mom (Critical Role), Keyleth (Critical Role) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Pre-Canon, linear narrative, Non-Linear Narrative, Flashbacks, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Getting Together, Childhood Memories, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, First Meetings, Blood, Loss, Anxiety, Panic, Injury, Self-Doubt, Relationship Discussions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Sex, Canonical Character Death, I Love You, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Marriage Proposal, Marriage, Happy Ending

Summary: Although he heard the words before, there were differences. Differences in how they said them and why and when. He cherished the memories of both. He loved them both. Different, yet the same. Fully, completely, unendingly. His greatest loves.

Chapter Preview

Even though he'd never been the biggest fan of parties, there was something about the festivities going on around him that reminded him too much of home for him not to check it out. The streets were crowded with people moving between stalls stocked with all manner of goods-warm foods, alcohol drinks, handcrafted garments, jewelry, magic firecrackers. Music played from the plethora of bards posted up at street corners looking to make some coin from passersby. Children ran through the legs of those much bigger than them as they raced to either get somewhere or as part of a game they played. It was the type of chaos that might have been difficult to navigate if he weren't so familiar with it.

He passed by many a shop with the doors thrown wide open to encourage people to wander in for a look as they made their way down the street. There were a few he dipped into out of curiosity, but nothing caught his attention enough to warrant standing in the long lines or spending his coin. Along his way, what he did pick up were a few of food offerings that looked interesting and ended up liking a majority of what he tried. He wasn't having nearly as much fun as everyone else appeared to be, but it was enough that he wandered along a few more streets.

#shades of storm and wind #critical role #dorym #big moon little moon #orym #dorian storm #will #keyleth #derrig #canon divergence #pre canon #linear narrative #non linear narrative #flashbacks #fluff #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #angst #getting together #childhood memories #childhood friends #friends to lovers #first meetings #blood #loss #anxiety #panic #injury #self doubt #relationship discussions

[haikyuu-library]

astronomy in reverse (it was me who was discovered) by Flumes

Completed | T | 22.1k

It’s five hours from Tokyo to Sendai. It’s five years from Fukurodani Academy to the Black Jackals. It’s five sets between win and loss and five seconds to miss that final point. It’s five; the number of Fukurodani’s vice-captain and setter for one blinding, beautiful year. It’s five; like an identity branded into his heart, the only number that holds any meaning for him. Black and white and gold.

“You always pick five,” Udai muses in the wake of the staff betting pool. Akaashi’s not even sure what they’re betting on, aware that his final deadline to have the latest manuscript submitted is in five days.

“Five is a good number.”

It’s five years since Akaashi watched Bokuto step into the light of the future and five years since he last set a volleyball into the air on centre court. It’s been five years, and in not one of them has he forgotten what it felt like to stand beneath the trajectory of a shooting star.

#bokuaka #Bokuto Koutarou #akaashi keiji #post timeskip #angst #non linear narrative #pining #pro volleyball player bokuto koutarou #anxiety akaashi keiji #self-esteem issues akaashi keiji #angst with a happy ending #completed #ao3 #10k to 25k #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #hq!! #hq #haikyuu fic recs #haikyuu fic rec #hq fic rec #hq fic recs #fic recs #fic rec