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Oikawa’s Predicament

A/N: Haikyuu!! (iwaoi, lee Oikawa) -  5. “Did…I…do something wrong?” - Also part of the speedwriting batch for my 1 year blog anniversary. Riiiip Oikawa!

Summary: Oikawa arrives late to his planned drinking night with his boyfriend and buddies. They don’t plan to let him go unpunished.

Word Count: 1307

“Hiya guys! What’s uuup?” Oikawa loudly entered the bar and joined his boyfriend Iwaizumi, and their double date- buddies Matsukawa and Hanamaki at the reserved table for their regular drink together. 

“Did…I…do something wrong?” he asked when they didn’t say anything but just shared certain glances with each other. Oikawa looked at each of them and then at the glasses they already almost finished.

“Apart from being late one hour and 47 minutes, what did he do wrong guys?” Iwaizumi calmly asked Hanamaki and Matsukawa, and Oikawa eep’ed.

“What? We said at 9 right? I’m early!” he asked, looking at all of them in shock. Crap. Normally he and Iwaizumi went together since he’d usually stay at his place (which was the plan for tonight too), and they always went together so not he but Iwaizumi was the one to keep track of time. 

Today was a little bit different since he promised to buy Takeru dinner to celebrate the sweet boy passed his school tests. After that he’d join the rest, which he thought was at 9. Oops. So it was supposed to be at 7? Weeeird!

“I’m sorryyyy guys!” he whined when none of them replied but continued to drink from what most likely were their second or third drinks already, considering how long they had been here without him.

“He also never answers his phone. It’s annoying, why would he have a phone?” Matsukawa commented with a dramatic sigh.

“I feel sorry for Hajime,” Hanamaki said, and Iwaizumi even nodded at this.

“Guys! Iwa-chan, I’m sorry okay? I’ll buy you all drinks.” Oikawa tried to get the waiter’s attention while the others continued, without even addressing him directly.

“And now he tries to solve things with money. What a dick,” Matsukawa added, and Oikawa lunged over the table and tried to wave his hands in front of their faces to get their attention.

“Hellooo! I said I’m sorry! Iwa-chaaan!” Returning to Iwaizumi next to him, Oikawa whined and grabbed his arm, pulling at him like a little kid.

“Maybe we should just tickle him as a punishment for being an ass,” Iwaizumi said, and this made Oikawa let go of him immediately, tensing up as he let out one squeaky “eeeeheh!?”.

“Ah right, we know how ticklish he is right?” Hanamaki probed Matsukawa’s arm with his elbow, and they chuckled.

“Best reactions are when you tickle his tummy and sides. With squeezing moves,” Iwaizumi said, making the motions with his hands, and Oikawa cringed.

“No what about when you do this to his feet?” Hanamaki wiggled his fingers in the worst way possible, very clear for Oikawa to see, and he cringed more.

“Guys. I’m right here!” he whispered loudly, growing very uncomfortable with where this was going.

“Don’t forget his back. I’d do thiiis and that..” Matsukawa joined in tickling the air, showing how he would often scribble his fingers all over Oikawa’s back, and Oikawa could almost feel their fingers already.

Keep reading


Looks like the line-up for costume dramas is quite exciting from next month to next year.

Starting off with,

Love Yun Ge From The Desert <大汉情缘之云中歌> which will come right off the hot heels of it’s predecessor (story-wise) Sound of the Desert <风中奇缘> which will premiere 12.11.2014 with Angelababy, Du Chun, Lu Yi, Chen Xiao.

The Condor Heroes 2014 <神雕侠侣> another take of Jin Yong’s classic novel which was supposed to come out last August but was pushed back to  2.2015  hence the title change Romance Of The Condor Heroes with Chen Xiao and Michelle Chen.

Nirvana In Fire <琅琊榜>  a visually rich story (based on the trailer) with Hu Ge, Liu Tao and Victor Huang which will air early 2015

The Journey Of Flower <花千骨> I’m still not comfortable with this title. Adapted from a very popular romance novel abut a May-December love affair (teehee) starring Wallace Huo and Zhao Liying.

Hua Xu Yin <华胥引之绝爱之城> this drama has suffered a similar fate as Dao Mo Yao (which is airing now) finished since 2013 but will finally see the light this 2015 (fingers crossed) with Yuan Hong, Jiang Xin and Kevin Cheng.

Legend Of Miyue <芈月传> probably the most anticipated among bunch (did I hear something?) after the highly successful Legend of Zhen Huan with Sun Li headlining the 80-episode series along with Jiang Xin, Liu Tao and Masu.

Liar, Liar || Jungkook x Reader

Word count;; 1.8k
Pairing;; jungkook x reader, ig??
Genre;; angst


The scent of alcohol, sweat and cigarettes is overwhelming – smoke looming near the ceiling in potent clouds that capture the light of the club, shot glasses and empty bottles of soju and whatever else visible as far as the eye can see. All that can be heard over the heavy pound of music are loud bouts of laughter that emerge from the large crowd of bodies collected on the dance floor. And somehow, this doesn’t bother anyone but f/n.

She’s definitely drunk; she knows that much, if the slight tingle at the tips of her fingers and the throb of her head are any indication. But even in her intoxicated state, the prospect of stepping into a club and drinking until she couldn’t remember her own name no longer sounds as appealing as it once did when she was sober. There’s a slight frown pulling at the corners of her lips, digits of her left hand reaching up to massage the ache in her temples as she gazes across the room in search of any familiar faces.

If f/n acknowledges the man crammed into the seat beside her, prying for her attention with sly lips on the skin of her neck, she does not show it, and instead struggles to keep the contents of her stomach down rather than give him a glance. What changed? Was it not only moments ago that she was just as desperate to lose herself in the stranger, even if he was – and still is – little more than an ‘attractive distraction?’

She wants to. She really wants to. Was that not her reason for coming here in the first place, to get blackout drunk and forget everything? To this rundown, musky shoebox of a bar that really cannot be called a club — it is nothing more than a place for people to get their dose of pain-numbing alcohol, and to stumble into a room with another person knowing that they will not see one another again after they’ve had their fun.

Perhaps that is what disgusts her now. There was once a time when she used to look at these people with pity, because she had everything she wanted to satisfy her needs at her side. But now, it would appear that f/n is one of them, and the realization makes her stomach give a sickened lurch.

How many of the men in this bar has she seduced over the past four hours, and how many times had she changed her mind and push them away?

‘I’m sorry, Jungkookie. I just – listen, it’s not you, it’s –’

‘No. No, don’t give me that bullshit, ‘it’s not me, it’s you,’ crap! You’re lying, f/n. I know you are. I just – fuck! I just thought… that we were happy.’

’…I’m sorry.’

‘Is that all you can say now? Why don’t you say something important, f/n. C'mon, tell me you don’t love me. To my face.’

'I… don’t love you.’

A sharp, hot breath emerges from her parted mouth at the onslaught of unwanted memories, and with little to no hesitation, she throws the distraction of a man from her throat and lurches to her feet, the aching heels on her feet clicking quietly against the linoleum floors. Ignoring the audible protests of her 'friend,’ she begins stumbling her way through the throngs of sweaty, dancing couples, crinkling her nose at the scent of palpable lust in the air as she reaches the other side of the room.

'Jin and Tae, Jin and Tae… where’d they go? Gotta leave and… See him…’


In spite of how quiet the words truly are under the deafening sound of bass and drums, f/n’s skull still gives a dull throb, and she moans pathetically in misery, cold hands plastered to her forehead. Her patience running thin, on top of the pain in her head and feet, she lets out a harsh sigh and whips around, scowl all too visible on her mouth. “What do you – o-oh… Tae.”

Even in her drunken stupor, she can still collect pieces of her logic and takes note of how the rectangular grin on his bruised lips seems oddly dazed, how his hair is mussed and in a disarray as if fingers had been clutching fistfuls of it. It takes only a second to put two and two together, but she can’t really bring herself to care all that much right now.

“Where’ve you been?” he chuckles breathlessly, using the hand that isn’t clutching a glass to run through his already frizzy locks. “Hyung and I were – hic – we were wondering where you went.”

“I was on the other side of the bar, Taehyung… literally across the room.”

She heaves out a frustrated groan, the guilt that swirls in her gut compelling her to make a swift change of subject, mouth pursing into an anxious line. “Where’s Jin-oppa? I need him to give me a ride.” When Taehyung only gives a lousy shrug of his bomber-clad shoulders, f/n is on the brink of stomping her foot like a pouting child, teeth buried inside her cheek. “Are you kidding me? I’ll just – fuck, fine. I’ll get a goddamn cab, just – have fun.”

With no more than an aggravated wave of her hand over her shoulder, f/n begins storming through the club with reckless abandon; until a large, warm hand is curled around her wrist. At the unexpected gesture, she squints and turns around, blinking in confusion and surprise when she spots the momentarily serious, lucid expression on Taehyung’s face. “Hey, what –”

“f/n-ah. You’re going to see him, right?”

It is no understatement to say that she is taken aback by the abruptly asked question. It’s a simple inquiry, but with so many possible answers. 'You’re going to see him, right?’ Somehow, asking herself this in her mind makes the cloud of guilt, alcohol and heartache wash away, and the answer is clear.



f/n is not surprised in the least when the cab driver barks out a profanity behind her, as she all but throws her change into his seat and lurches out of the now-open door upon reaching her destination. She isn’t entirely sure why she feels such an urgency to get up the three flights of stairs as soon as possible, but the matter is apparently urgent enough for her heels to be hurled from her feet for a pickup in the pace of her lunges.

Moving in the almost skintight dress as it rides up her thigh, she discovers, is not a comfortable nor easy feat, but she continues on anyway. She can’t help but tell herself that she’ll be too late if she does not keep moving, even if her breathing is ragged and her steps are staggering with lingering affects of intoxication.

Maybe she already is. Maybe it was considered 'too late’ from the moment she broke up with Jungkook, and what she’s doing is entirely pointless.

The thought nearly brings her to a stop; nearly crumbles her wavering resolve to dust. But then the familiar apartment number is coming into view and her pounding heart is lurching into her throat because maybe it isn’t too late. Maybe she can fix things. Maybe he’ll understand; maybe it’ll be okay.

And then her fist is rapping repeatedly on the door, heartbeat rapid in the confines of her torso. Her breathing is heavy as a result of her star sprint, and she regrets wearing this chest-constricting dress, as it is now becoming difficult to properly inhale oxygen into her lungs.

But that doesn’t matter when the deadbolt is audibly flicked unlocked, and the wooden door opens with a resounding creak, and within only seconds there is a head of soft raven hair and doe-like eyes that still manage to make her melt are widening in shock and –

“Jungkook,” she breathes.

And that is all it takes for the floodgates to open, for the holes in the dam that she sloppily sealed shut with duct tape and glue to burst again, and there are tears beginning to blur her vision. The guilt that had been firmly sealed away with lock and key begins to seep through the cracks, and she finds herself wondering what the hell she was thinking.

What was she thinking when she ruined what was, and is, quite possibly the best thing ever to happen to her? What was she thinking when she threw away several years’ worth of utter bliss; memories of those times where she was once drunk on love and an almost overwhelming happiness?

She can’t even find the answer herself.

Jungkook seems to be just as surprised to see his old lover as she is, and for some reason sees it necessary to awkwardly block the gap separating the door from its frame with his body, lips pursed with suppressed annoyance. Nevertheless, he forces himself to be reasonably civil and f/n’s heart gives a pained lurch as she remembers, yet again, how much she had hurt him. “f/n… what’re you doing here? You got all of your things last week and –” he pauses, sniffing the air with furrowed brows until he sighs, coming to a realization with a deadpan. “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

f/n can’t bring herself to care too much about his question, and instead lets out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Listen, I’m so sorry.” With the simplistic four words, her voice and lips tremble as her eyes continue to glisten, nails curled into tight fists in her palms. “I’m so, so sorry, Jungkookie. I – I lied. I lied. I’m sorry I lied to you, but I was – I was just so scared and I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, and… and…”

She is unable to finish her pleading ramble, tears now trickling freely down her cheeks. She is standing ramrod straight, head bowed toward the ground for fear of him seeing just how pathetic she really is. Even so, she can still sense his alarm and bemusement in his next words.

“Hu – what? Lied about what? f/n, what’re you talking about? We… broke up weeks ago. Don’t tell me you want to talk now, of all times.”

'It’s now or never. Tell him, f/n; just tell him and maybe things will be alright again.’

f/n is so close to doing so, too, the words at the tip of her tongue, adrenaline beginning to surge in her veins, hope in her eyes – when a concerned voice emerges from behind Jungkook and the door. A very unfamiliar, and very feminine voice.

“Jagi, is something wro – oh… are you alright?”

Her heart drops to her feet, and she knows, just by the sheepish guilt creasing his features and the beautiful young woman peering over his shoulder worriedly, that all hope is lost.

Nonetheless, a plastic smile is forced to settle over her face, and she nods with such false reassurance that it almost hurts. “…Yeah, I’m… I’m fine.”


***** -Admin Kura

Photogallery 1 Chinese Junior Nationals: TF Award Ceremony

Gold (Ningbo, Zhejiang): Hua Ruixue, Luo Huan, Hu Mengyao, Li Qi, Sheng Jingyi, Lv Jiaqi
Silver (Guangzhou, Guangdong): Liu Tingting, Huang Danni, Zhang Zicong, Chen Yile, Fan Yanyan, Liu Jingxing
Bronze (Haidian District, Beijing): Du Siyu, Zhou Xizi, Jing Yang, Yang Haimeng, Fu Xiaqiuran, Lin Yuyao

Thanks to A. for helping me ID the girls :) And yes, it is Zhang Nan in the last picture, she is one of the coaches of the Beijing team.

Source: Jiajia