#olympics games

[memesavior]

[briggtea]

Simply la reina Alexia Putellas scoring a great goal 👸🏼⚽

[spooky-spextre-arts]

(TW: Antisemitism & Hitler apologia)

So, why is it that the crowd who has tripped over itself insisting they are merely, "just antizionist, not antisemitic" (and claim they would punch Nazis), now throwing up Nazi salutes and chanting "Heil Hitler" at Israeli Olympic athletes?

How is chanting Hitler and Nazi apologia supposed to bring aid or attention to the civilians of Gaza? Perhaps even encourage middle-ground individuals to support an independent Palestinian state? How does committing the same acts the far-right has (and be properly called out on), make any of that possible? Does growing extremism in the anti-Israel/pro-Hamas crowd guarantee anything except an increased likelihood in producing more radicalized individuals (or possibly encourage middle-ground individuals to oppose an otherwise well-intentioned cause?)

Seems like some people were just waiting for the chance to be the same people that, just a year ago, were proudly proclaiming they would punch.

[iwaoiness]

Finally, Japan wins against Argentina in the Olympics and Iwaizumi, after the euphoria and joining in the collective hug with the whole team, approaches the net and passes under it, smiling when he sees Oikawa with a pout and his arms crossed.

"This game doesn't count," he mutters, but hugs Hajime tightly when he wraps his arms around him, his big hand warm against his back, between his shoulder blades.

"You played an amazing match" Iwaizumi swears, voice low and deep, just for Oikawa to hear.

And Oikawa believes him. He absolutely believes him. They played a good match, they were better (much, much better than against USA), but they weren't the six strongest. And that's fine. Because the world doesn't end. The world keeps turning, volleyball keeps existing, matches keep being played, opportunities keep coming, Hajime always stays.

"Make sure to avenge me against the USA, Iwa-chan."

Hajime chuckles, lifting his head to meet Oikawa's eyes. Oikawa smiles, soft and affectionate, only slightly tired but not defeated. And that's all Iwaizumi wants in the world.

He gives Oikawa a squeeze around the waist.

"And you, babe, make sure to avenge me against Germany."

...

JUST WAIT UNTIL I HAVE TIME THIS WEEK TO IMPROVE THIS DRABBLE BECAUSE IM STILL SCREAMING SINCE THE MATCH ENDED

[evaristoramos]

Beatriz Souza!

I can't follow the Olympics as much as I would like, but I couldn't miss the opportunity to honor our gold medalist in judo, right? An incredible victory that brought immense happiness to all of us here in Brazil (except for the bitter ones, of course).

[valhalla-awaitsfor-us]

I am so sorry for the horrible treatment Jordan Chilles is receiving from those terrible people. But for her sister to say that "It's an injustice that they took away her bronze medal" is, to be redundant, an injustice in itself. The Romanian competitor, like Jordan, gave everything to win. Why was what happened to her not an injustice? Why can't the United States ever look past themselves?

[rayofsunshyne]

The Turkish Olympic shooter was just giving Rayne ☔

[victorysp]

Amalia the Princess of Orange and King Felipe of Spain during the 3x3 Basketball - Olympic Games final match between the Netherlands and France at Esplanade Des Invalides today during the Olympics Games París 2024. August 5, 2024.

[mfelewzi]

The strange paths and roads of imagination...

By Bibierre, a funny italian artist!

Under the link of his Facebook page:

https://www.facebook.com/share/p/Qr4TCRzEq1D4jxxC/

[izzeddine]

Italy wins gold medal in racism at Olympics.

[tilbageidanmark]

Yusuf Dikeç: Here come the memes

[pamqz]

Hear me out

[iwaoiness]

Iwaizumi knew it. He knew he shouldn't give in again, that he had to be the firmer, more mature, responsible, and sensible one between the two of them.

But every man has his weakness, and for Hajime, that weakness is Tooru. Especially when he does that thing where he gently bites his lips while smiling (drunk from so many kisses and caresses), where he droops subtly his eyelids (crystal clear and cloudy eyes), where he calls him Hajime in that slow, playful and fucking hot way.

And, of course, Iwaizumi falls and takes Oikawa down with him. Until they both hit the ground, metaphorically and literally, because, at the end of the day, cardboard Olympic beds might support one big elite athlete, but definitely not two.

“Fuck, not again,” groans Iwaizumi, covering his face with both hands from where he lies on the floor. Sitting next to him, fully satisfied and with the sheet draped over his shoulders, Oikawa laughs.

"At least it held out until we reached orgasm"

Hajime lowers his hands and frowns his brow in his direction. But any urge to hit Oikawa evaporates when he sees his pretty smile, rosy cheeks, and tousled hair.

"You're a brad, you know that?"

"And you're a brute, you know that?"

They both smile, their words carrying no heat. Hajime pulls the sheet around Oikawa's shoulders, leaning him in to kiss. He feels the warmth of Oikawa's body against his skin, Oikawa's hand cradling his face, and his long fingers tangling in Hajime's hair as their lips meet and part, slow and lazy, like the gentle waves of a calm sea.

But, before Tooru's free hand slides down his chest and he climbs on top for another round, Iwaizumi breaks the kiss, snorting in amusement at Tooru's plaintive moan.

"Let's go shower," he says, getting up from the floor.

“Oh,” Oikawa's eyes sparkled with excitement as he gazed up at him from below, “so the second round will be—”

“In your dreams, Shittykawa. Normal shower.”

“Boo, ¡qué aburrido, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa sticks his tongue out in an endearing pout, maintaining it even as he raises his arms towards his boyfriend, silently asking to be carried.

Hajime arches an eyebrow, but he can't wipe the smile off his face. He crouches down and, with relative ease, lifts a world-class volleyball player into his arms. Oikawa's muscular arms wrap around his neck, and he hums contentedly, snuggling against Hajime's chest. As he swings his legs, Oikawa finally begins to curse the USA team after their defeat last night. Iwaizumi listens, proud that the loss hasn't weighed too heavily on Oikawa's shoulders (after all, it's just the first game of his second Olympics, and Japan also lost to Germany too) and he laughs when Tooru theorises that the defeat must have been the fault of the embarrassing bright pink shirts with his worst photos printed under the phrase We Stan With Toto in Comic Sans that his parents, sister, Takeru, Mattsun, and Makki wore to cheer him on.

To Oikawa's chagrin, there is no second round in the bath. However, he fully relaxes as he sinks into the water, with Iwaizumi lathering his hair and massaging it just the way he likes—in circles, without pressing, and gently untangling it. Iwaizumi also takes the opportunity to comb Oikawa's hair into a porcupine-like point or flatten it into a crest, ignoring his childish protests.

Tooru helps him lather his untamed hair and rub his broad back. He also takes the opportunity to touch the fresh scratches on Hajime's back, laughing when Hajime screams and barely escaping his pinching.

After removing all traces of shampoo and gel, teasing each other some more, kissing and drying their hair thoroughly (especially Oikawa), they finally emerge from the shower almost drowsily, with towels wrapped around their waists.

However, to Iwaizumi's chagrin now, the bed is still broken. The centre is sagging, the cardboard frames are unhinged, some even split and others bent outwards under the pressure exerted. The legs at the ends are bent and twisted. The colourfull quilt is in disarray and the pillow is on the floor. The mattress, somehow the only intact thing, has fallen to one side, leaning against what little is left of the bed.

"No matter how much you frown, it won't fix itself" scoffs Tooru, already dressed in a clean shirt (Hajime's), dark boxers (Hajime's too) and his neon yellow Pikachu socks (not Hajime's).

“But I don’t want to go through this again,” he protests, running a hand over his face, feeling his ears turn red.

This would be the second fucking warning for the same issue, and they’ve only been in the Olympic Village for four fucking days.

“I told you to put the mattress on the floor.” Tooru hugs him from behind, grinning amused as Hajime turns to look at him, squinting.

“Did you? Because I remember you were too busy moaning my name to think about that.”

“If Iwa-chan is too embarrassed to ask for a new bed, then I’ll asking for it!” Oikawa, blushing, intentionally ignores his comment and trots over to his phone.

“Oh, no, no! Tooru, come here! Tooru!” Still with the towel around his waist, Hajime chases his slippery boyfriend around the room, and Tooru laughs loudly, phone in hand, trying to access the app as he continues to run away.

Fourth day of the Olympic Games, and counting.

...

FINALLY my small contribution to the olympic games but in a iwaoi way u know

thank u sm for all the likes and reblogs <3 u can find this and find me on my ao3 🍉

[memesavior]

[allfavz]

ginástica artística headers like/reblog if you save

credits @aIfasquad on twitter