#olympics2020

[postosho]

Bronze medal (ﾉ≧ڡ≦) 🥉

[nba24highlights]

KOBE BRYANT WAS MORE FAMOUS THEN MICHAEL JORDAN & MICHAEL JACKSON IN CHINA!🏀👀 #china #usa #olympics #kobe #kobebyrant #nbaworl #nbaworld10 #nbaworldleague #nba #ripkobe #ripkobebryant #shorts #nba24highlights #kobe #kobebyrant #nbaworld #nba #ripkobe #ripkobebryant #shorts #nba24highlights #nbachina #kobebryant #kobebryant24 #kobebryant💜🤍 #kobebryanttribute #kobebryantforever #kobebryant8 #kobebryant824 #viral #fyp #fypシ #fup #fupシ #foryou #foryoupage #foryoupage❤️❤️ #mj #michaeljackson #michaeljacksonchallenge #michaeljacksonfan #michaeljacksonedit #michaeljacksonsounds #michaeljacksonedits #michaeljacksonlegend #michaeljacksonimpersonator #michaeljacksonforever #kobechina #kobebryantchina #kobebryantchinese #chinesedrama #chinesedrama #chinesetiktok #chinesefood #chinesestreetfashion #chinesegirl #chineseboy #chineseboys #c

[sorrysomethingwentwrong]

‘Tokyo 2020’,

@tanaka_tatsuya

[preathuswnt]

megan was such a proud fiancé

[alexmovincastle]

Just rewatching haikyu and thinking how much I would 10/10 DATE nishinoya! The guy’s 5’2” and a total dumbass? WHO CARES !!! Bring it on !!!!!

[miniatureart]

Inspired by team USA Artistic Swiming aka Synchronized Swimming duet team.

[piadouwes]

Rebecca Andrade's gesture to Seojeong Yeo 😂

They're both so cute!!

[firmflexing]

Question of the week.

Do you watch sports yourself?

[potatoswrite]

confidante - l. kean yew

summary: kean yew had just lost the deciding match against an indonesian shuttler, thus cannot proceed to the knockout stages. 

pairing: Loh Kean Yew (Singapore Olympian shuttler) x reader

word count: 1.3k

A/N: first post here! please enjoy hehe. disclaimer: i was never actually at the olympics, so i have no idea how the behind-the-scenes look like, this is purely my imagination.

He had lost. 

All that hard work, aiming for an Olympic medal, was given the opportunity to even be here, yet he couldn't seize it.

You knew how hard he worked for this, how he fought every second of the match, so you knew how horrible, how disappointed he felt. You too were disappointed at the results, how he couldn’t achieve the goal he’d set for himself. It wasn’t to prove anything to anybody else, since he was the underdog and no one really expected all that much from him, but for himself. To tell himself that if he just worked hard, he would be able to get it right. But you’re already so proud of him for even standing in this court, in front of millions of people (who would rather be here in person) watching on TV. 

It was now up to you to grieve with him, to cry with him, then to cheer him up, motivate him once more. 

Kean Yew nodded out of respect and best wishes to Jonatan Christie, who reciprocated his greeting. They’d met more than once, in multiple different settings, through various Tournaments, but they did not expect to meet in the Olympics, under such a circumstance. 

He grabbed his towel, wiping his head dripping with sweat, before packing his racket up at the side. Still panting out of exhaustion, he turned to face the stands, where you, along with the Singapore contingent, were sitting, applauding him for a well-fought fight. A polite smile crept upon his face as he bowed in gratitude for the support, but you could tell the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Given the situation, it wouldn’t have. Sure, he was immensely grateful for all the support shown over the past few days, but that didn't numb defeat. His eyes scanned the small crowd, socially-distanced, taking in who was there, and your eyes met. In that millisecond, you could see masked pain, exhaustion and dejection, mixed with pure gratitude for the support, before he turned away. 

He walked towards the mixed zone where a lone reporter - possibly from MediaCorp or the like - spoke to him as he caught his breath, answering questions as best as he could. His coach was nearby, providing him with mental support. It seemed as though his happy-go-lucky self had returned in those moments, as he smiled genuinely, thanking all supporters, while joking with the reporter. When it was all over, he grabbed his belongings, and still smiling, headed back to the call room with his coach draping an arm over his shoulder. 

You turned to the rest of the contingent, who had started chatting softly. 

"Anyone wants to go with me to talk to Kean Yew?" You asked.

Most replied that they would see him later, so you excused yourself and headed down the stands towards the locker rooms. 

You and Kean Yew were good friends, and it wasn't hard for you to admit you might have a tiny crush on him, but that wasn't important at present. Although truthfully, you'd known each other personally for no longer than a year, which wasn't particularly long. You had only started working with TeamSingapore for the Olympics, helping out as a physiotherapist intern, and somehow got lucky enough that they had actually sent you to Tokyo 2020, even with major restrictions. Of course, you were extremely grateful for the opportunity.

Squeezing past a few officials and umpires, you walked down rows and rows of white walls until you came to a door that said "SGP Loh Kean Yew" on it. It wasn't the first time you'd been here, but it still felt foreign. 

Hesitating just before your fist knocked on the door, you weren't sure if you should be here, or if he even wanted you here. But since you were already here, you would might as well tell him that he did a good job before leaving. 

You couldn't hear any sound from behind the door, so you raised your fist to knock. A voice that wasn't Kean Yew's (his coach's, you recognised), asked for you to enter and you complied. 

The scene you saw as you opened the door broke your heart. Kean Yew sat on the bench, a towel in his right hand, his head in his left, leaning against the wall. He looked like he had been stoning before the door opened, but he looked up as it opened and his eyes were now on you. He didn't make a peep. Your eyes met once more, but this time you could see all of his emotions, bare and true, and he didn't try to hide them in front of you. 

"Oh hey! You're here, that's great. Would you accompany this guy for a minute while I settle some administrative matters?" His coach addressed you as your eyes left Kean Yew's to turn to the coach. You could still feel his gaze on you, though. 

"Sure, not an issue," you nodded in reply, smiling at the coach. He patted Kean Yew on his shoulder, then grabbed his own bag and left. 

Silence filled the room as the door shut, Kean Yew's eyes now trained on the tiles of the floor. You took a few long strides to close the distance between you two, stopping just feet away from him.

"Can I sit here?" You pointed beside him. He nodded mutely, shifting to give you space.

"I'm sorry. You did well. I'm incredibly proud of you." 

He didn't reply.

You turned to look at him, hoping to catch his eyes again. It failed this time, his eyes staring deep into the seams of his shoes. 

"It was such a close fight. Thank you for playing so well."

Silence. 

No eye contact this time either. 

"Not well enough." 

Those three words shattered you. But it was the truth, you both knew it, and that's exactly why he said it; because you wouldn't be able to refute that. 

He had played really well, but it just wasn't enough to bring him to the next round of the competition.

There was nothing for you to say. So all you did was to get off your seat and crouch down to make sure you were staring straight into his eyes. If he wasn't going to look at you, you'd do it yourself. You stayed there for a minute, making sure all the emotions you felt could be read like a book through your eyes, ensuring he knew how loved, how treasured, how cherished he was as a person, as a friend, not just as a shuttler.

You knew you had to comfort him, to reassure him that his best was good enough. Maybe not for competition, but for you for sure. Clutching his shoulders to lift him off his seat, you tip-toed and gently but firmly wrapped your arms around his shoulders. To let him know that you were there for him, no matter what happened. His arms remained slack beside you for the longest time, before finally accepting the hug and wrapping his tired arms gently around you. 

Wearily, his head rested on your shoulder, breathing deep breaths to calm himself down. You softly caressed his sweaty hair, but you couldn't care less about the sweat. 

You stayed like that for a good length of time. The comfort you provided him proved to be helpful as he slowly released you when he felt he was calm enough. 

“Thank you.” He gratefully said, and you knew it wasn’t just for being here in the call room with him, but for being with him for his entire journey in Tokyo.

“Of course, I’m always here.” You promised.

The two of you rarely needed too many words to know how each other felt, and that was comforting to both of you.

After all, it is always nice having a confidante like each other no matter where you went. 

[k-u-b-i-s-m]

Not sure I'm on fire, in beast mode or unstoppable but I did get to 100 days in the daily poster challenge! Making something everyday made me be less precious about the outcome and be freer with my design choices - sometimes you just gotta let go and get weird. Not sure what's next but maybe I might do the #36daysoftype challenge. A letter a day sounds kinda fun ✌🏼🤓

[jadedheart13]

If this is the Vlatko era I don't want it 🙅🏻‍♀️

[mbappelingz]

YO

Sir

[logannc]

Who’s ready for the Olympics??? I know I am 😁 🇺🇸

[daniellepioli]

#suschallenge today is our extremely talented and fierce @rebecarandrade 🥈 The first Brazilian medalist in an Olympics! . . . #daniellepioli #olympics2020 #olympics #gymnastics #rebecaandrade #olimpiadas #drawingchallenges https://www.instagram.com/p/CR97SsIg9xE/?utm_medium=tumblr

[theidlespoon]

watching the showjumping team finals straight after the riding segment of the men’s pentathlon is like drinking fresh water from a spring after weeks after gulping your own pee. glorious.

[what-am-i-outside-my-google-tabs]

Le cose che mi arrivano nei gruppi di WhatsApp.