heat thunder

The current playoff picture!
I like this very much, except for Dever at 8th in the West. Would be cool to watch Jokic, but that’s a sweep for GSW.
The East is much deeper this year! Bucks at 8th, that’s no easy first round for Cavs this year.

What if the Larry O'Brien trophy was custom made every year for the new NBA Champion? Well, a graphic designer brought that idea to life, in this incredible fusion of team logo’s with the leagues biggest prize. 

Image via Imgur

this is interesting to look at (x)

Never let me go

Summary: 30 years old Dan leaves the New Year’s Eve party and sees a familiar face.

Word cound: lol idk, not that long tho

A/N: A little bit angsty, a little bit cheesy, a little bit gay, I just wanted a phan reaunion fic, okay? Didn’t really specify why they split up, and I know the whole idea itself seems unrealistic, but my trashy heart needed that. Enjoy.

ALSO, save my little, non-english soul from being killed for any mistakes (message me if there are any)(i doubt)(jk i know there are)

***

It’s like a heat wave, battlefield and thunder all mixed together at once. Why are parties so loud? Stupid question. If one has a problem with that, a reasonable solution would be just not to come, but Dan is Dan, and he does as people ask, regretting it later. As usual.

He has to leave, right now. If not the whole party, at least the building. At least for a few minutes. His whole time would have been spent on his phone, anyway. He isn’t the one to dance, can’t just ‘let himself loose’ on the dance floor, like everyone else seemed to be doing. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, he just… can’t bring himself to it. Doesn’t know how.

It’s freezing outside, a negative ten at least. Is that what all people get for being socially awkward? Dan feels the icy wind on his cheeks. It stings his eyes as he makes his way to the single bench in front of the hotel and flops down on it. He feels a slight urge to wrap his suit tighter around his chest, but the heat from the inside still holds its effect, so he just sits.

He can hear the faint sounds of fireworks being blown in various parts of the city. Some people just can’t wait till midnight, but at least they’re having more fun than him.

There are footsteps behind him and suddenly there’s a tall man in a dark, blue suit standing nearby, close to the road. They shoot each other a brief glance, but the guy turns right away, seemingly uninterested in who Dan is or why he’s sitting there. He must be here for a cigarette, because Dan is convinced there could not be more people as awkward as himself. Which leads him to the conclusion that it would be better to just leave, right now. Three other things he doesn’t feel like doing today are definitely being offered a cigarette, breathing in the smoke or engaging in a conversation with a stranger.

While contemplating his escape, he notices the guy is just standing there, and somehow it doesn’t look like he’s planning to take out anything out of his pockets. Except for his hands maybe, which are stuffed deep in, probably in an attempt to escape the cold. Well, that’s two problems out of the way, but the upcoming small talk still hung in the air, inevitably, much to Dan’s horror. There were no other people around on the streets, nor in front of the building, even the guard disappeared inside, retiring from the cold. Dan decides he can just come back later, and his knees seem to lead him up and towards the entrance almost by themselves. The guy looks towards him again, hearing the footsteps, and Dan is not afraid to meet his gaze; he’s definitely not risking the interaction this time.

He stops abruptly at the sight of all too familiar glasses, covering the all too familiar blue and green eyes. They widen at his sight as well, flashing with shock and something he can’t quite put a finger on.

Dan.” It’s not an exclamation, it’s not a whisper, and it’s neither filled with joy or bitterness… It’s just a statement. It’s him.

There is a moment, a brief one, when he feels the urge to just throw himself onto Phil, like he used to when they haven’t seen each other longer than a day, and start talking. About random things and everything that happened, at once. (Which is a lot. Four years exactly.) But he quickly brushes it off, simply staring. Phil stares too.

Sooner or later, one of them has to speak up, and Dan decides it should be him, as technically Phil has been the first one before. It’s not like he knows exactly what to say, because honestly, he doesn’t. He’s not even close to having an idea. The only thing going around his brain at the moment is: Phil. Phil. Phil. “Phil…”

Phil’s expression changes, and he looks amused for a second, smirking slightly. “We could just stand here and repeat each other’s names, what do you think?”

Dan doesn’t even realize he’s smiling with his teeth. It’s doesn’t quite right go with his current mood, but he doesn’t want to stop the effect Phil’s words have on him. He never used to. Besides, he’s not even sure what he exactly feels by now. The dreaded party inside is long forgotten, definitely.

“Yeah, sure. Or we could just sit and talk, but who heard about that phenomenon?” He grins. The silence still seems to be over standing them, but it’s not that quiet anymore. A soft hum of their personas seems to be returning, a combined tune Dan always loved the sound of, and could listen to all the time, never getting bored. He’s missed it all too much.

“Sit?”

Phil nods towards the bench, and they both move at the same time, soon sitting on the two ends of it, yet facing each other. Dan rests his elbows on his knees, bending down a little. He doesn’t really know what posture he should keep, and this feels like the most casual one. Maybe he seems even too relaxed; well, more than he is inside, for sure. He can’t really tell anything about Phil from just looking at him (in the past he’s been able to do it without a second glance), but he can’t be calm either. He sits on the edge, back straight like always, looking at Dan from the corner of his eye. Dan swears he’s never felt the age difference between them as intensely as he does now, in this moment. Maybe it was the separation, but Phil seems so much older. Not in a bad way, in a… stronger, more mature way. Of course, he had to grow out from his man-child mentality eventually, though for Dan it seemed unrealistic. He couldn’t picture his best friend ever being anything but his funny, a little bit childish, dorky-self. He needed him like this to feel complete.

Wonder where that feeling was all those years ago, when they split up?

It sounds like they got a divorce or something, God, no. As much as everyone wanted ‘Phan’ to become a real thing, he and Phil never went beyond the ‘platonic love’ stage. They were best friends, the closest ones this world has ever seen. Yet, here they are. On a bench. Four years since they last saw each other properly. What happened, Dan thinks. As if it wasn’t the question he’s been asking himself everyday.

You know what happened, his mind screams at him every time, but he ignores it. It was his own fault, and that’s all he allows himself to remember. Rest of it remains an intentional blur. He doesn’t want to see it again, the fight. He spent his first night out of the apartment four days later. He and Phil talked, really talked about it six days later. Two months later, because moving houses takes time, they were not living together anymore. It was only that, because they still kept in touch, back on good terms, but something was definitely off. They focused too much on real life things, stuff that brought them together like the internet and common interests kept in the shadows, for some reason. Trip to America with the BBC was next. Right, it’s also worth mentioning that Dan didn’t work for them anymore, so it was only Phil. When he came back, it was Dan who has left for a change, back to his parents for a week (he needed to sort himself out after all that). From then on, the fate just seemed to hate them.

“I’ve read your book.”

Dan looks up, surprised. Books seemed like such an inappropriate mention, considering that they wrote one. Together. But then again, what haven’t they done together that stood on the list of proper conversation topics? “Really?”

He’s written two books since… well. One a little bit psychological, and the other one about his life in general (it was like another version of their book, just without Phil in it, and God, it was so hard to write). Both sold well, because he was, who he was, even if he stopped making videos regularly. And he was still being asked to promote some stuff, got invited to all sorts of events, so money really wasn’t a problem. He knew that Phil continued working for the BBC, he also never abandoned his channel as much as Dan, who still watched his videos from time to time. But the guilt eating him from the inside sometimes was just too much to handle, until he stopped completely. He didn’t really know where Phil was now with his life. In his mind he always stayed AmazingPhil, sitting in his room and making goofy videos. This seemed like it would never change.

“Yeah, the one about ‘lacking social skills’, as you conveniently put it” Phil says, and from the tone of his voice it can be told that the title makes him laugh, in a good way. So he hasn’t read the second book, and Dan can’t decide if it’s a good, or a bad thing. Some part of him wants Phil to, and the other begs him to stay as much away from the thing as possible. Or maybe he has read it, he just doesn’t say it. Maybe he was secretly looking for answers too, because if Phil wrote a book, that would be the first thing Dan would do. Look for answers. He does that in real life all the time, but the only explanations he can provide himself with are his own. And they’re obviously not good enough.

He’s doing it again, thinking too much. And Phil’s doing the talking, as always. At least that’s how it used to be between the two of them, but only when they were alone. He forgot people didn’t really know about that, but why the hell would he write a book on his troubles communicating with society, then, if in real life he wasn’t an awkward wreck of a human…

“I… I read the second one too, if you… in case you want to be aware…” it’s funny they both know now that what the book says is one thing, while in reality it’s completely different.

It comes back. It all comes back at once.

“Calm down!”

“I am calm!”

“No, you’re fucking not!”

Dan jumped when the curse word left Phil’s mouth. He never swore. Suddenly, he seemed so much older and rough. (Maybe that’s why Dan cursed so much himself? To get rid of his insecurities, to look stronger on the outside?) He was almost afraid of him. He felt so vulnerable, unable to speak.

“I’m tired of it, Dan!” Phil sounded less violent, but unbearably serious, “I know it’s hard for you sometimes and trust me, I will always, always want to be there for you, but you just need to start taking things more seriously!… That’s just how life is! I didn’t have anyone then, but that’s how I know everything works out eventually! I mean, look at us now!…”

Dan stared at him blankly, not scared anymore, just… numb. He watched Phil’s expression change from angry to begging, like he really wanted Dan to understand. Of course, that’s what he wanted instead of them shouting at each other- Phil was never the one to argue.

“’Us’? You mean we’re in this together, but it was you who was alone at some point, and that’s what’s important? You’re trying to make me feel bad because I had it easier from the beginning? Because I…”

“No!”

“… I had you!” Dan didn’t mean for the last sentence to be so loud, but his brain wasn’t listening.

“You still have me, we have each other…” Phil’s voice softened suddenly, as if he could sense what was coming and tried to prevent it (of course he fucking sensed it, he was more mature and stuff, right? Wasn’t he?!) Because Dan was tired of being treated like a baby, or feeling like it.

“Really? Do we have each other? Because I’m not sure anymore…” he hissed, doing the one thing he regretted the most later in life; leaving the room.

The both knew what came next.

“That’s my fault” Phil speaks up first. They must’ve both stopped projecting the past at the same time.

“No… It’s not important whose fault it is, it’s just…” Dan sighs, staring at his feet. He feels ashamed for some reason; maybe he should be, but it still makes him uncomfortable. He thinks of himself as the guilty one anyway; fuck, it was him who acted immature, and it was Phil who tried to get him to open his eyes, which had to happen, eventually. Whatever he did, Phil was always helping him somehow. Maybe that’s just who he was, because Dan refused to let himself believe he did it only for him. Phil was always the better, nicer one. He deserved more because of what he was giving out to the world.

“I fucked everything up. I’m so sorry, Phil…” he chokes on his own words, despite the urge not to. Stupid, why was he assuming Phil was hurting back then? Maybe that was exactly what he wanted, to get away from him, Dan… Still, “I always think, how far we could have been now, if it wasn’t for me, and I had to destroy everything, I…”

He’s getting worked up, much like he did last time; elbows flying off his knees as he straightens up, feeling the knot in his stomach becoming tighter.

A hand grips his shoulder; a steady, reassuring one. Phil’s hand. He holds Dan in place gently, making him look up, face flushed with emotion.

“You said it didn’t matter, Dan… We can’t change the past. It doesn’t matter” Dan stares him, feeling relief spreading out upon his face like a soft blanket. Phil’s eyes are just like he remembered them, and looking into them felt just like it. Right. The older one smiles, lopsided “And we are far. Look how many things have happened… I’m really proud of you.”

Dan feels some kind of warmness erupt in his chest; something he hadn’t felt for a long time. He used to have a theory that Phil’s existence just did this to people, whether he was talking, or just smiling at them. But this, right here, is his Phil, it’s a smile reserved just for their banter, for their jokes and conversations, the one Dan knows so well. And he loves it.

He loves Phil.

And maybe it’s too early to say that, be it out loud or only in his head. Maybe he’s just overwhelmed. Maybe he’s making it up, because he hasn’t seen his best friend in four years and feels like all of these feelings mean something more than just friendship.

And maybe it’s what he’s been feeling all this time, back then too, but was too stupid to notice.

He should say ‘thank you’, but he just smiles at Phil- at his nose, his eyes, his lips, his glasses- thinking how much he would want to kiss him right now and how he really shouldn’t do it. Because it’s only been an hour and it’s stupid. (But, well, he’s stupid too).

He does it anyway.

There’s a moment (from the second he starts leaning in, to be honest), when he expects Phil to lean back. Because he’s older and more responsible now, and Dan’s just stupid (that’s what he keeps telling himself as the time goes on). But Phil stays completely still, eyeing Dan’s actions as intensely as he would an episode of anime back in the day and as if this whole thing wasn’t just starting to resemble a cheesy movie plot with an improbable ending. Then he leans forward as well, meeting Dan’s lips in the middle. It happens much quicker than Dan expected it to, but he enjoys it nonetheless.

He lets himself live in a movie fantasy just a little bit longer.

If he forgot what Phil tasted like, it all comes back with fiery passion and so much familiarity that he whines absentmindedly. It’s warm, yet a little bit different (though he doesn’t mind that much) and feels like a drug his brain has been craving this whole time without noticing. He tangles his fingers in Phil’s hair, pulling him closer. Phil’s hands, much more gently, go around his waist. They’re kissing, a little shyly at first, before it becomes a full on make out session, but not without that soft, chaste part where it’s more about affection than pleasure. Phil breaks apart, but pecks his lips once more, resting his forehead against Dan’s. Their breathing collides in silence. Dan feels warmer than ever.

“I’m sorry” Phil says after a minute, which is a long time, but Dan didn’t dare to speak up first. There’s a rush of cold air when Phil pulls away, unpleasant. “I missed you” he says, and Dan doesn’t know if it’s supposed to be some kind of explanation, because if anyone should be explaining themselves right now, it’s him.

Dan stares at him bluntly, not sure what, or how, or why.

“No… it’s okay, it’s my fault” Phil doesn’t respond, staring at his lap. He probably thinks forgetting is the best idea. Forgetting? Wasn’t that what they were both trying to do for the past four years? Because it doesn’t seem to have worked out, considering what just happened “I missed you too”

Phil looks up. Dan makes his gaze almost piercing, until he sees that same desperation in the blue orbs facing his, like he has the power to reveal all of Phil’s secrets. Because, looking back, maybe he does. He always did.

He wraps his arms around Phil, tightly, as if his life depends on it. His best friend is back, and he’s here, warm and familiar in his aura. He’s not letting it slip away this time. Phil squeezes him just as hard, grasping at the back of his already crumpled, fancy shirt. Dan urges himself not to cry, but the last time he did, it was in this exact position, and it just seems inevitable. He’s sobbing into Phil’s neck before he knows it, while the older one is stroking his back, rocking them back and forth.

They are two grown men in their thirties, crying on a bench on New Year’s Eve. Dan senses nothing wrong about it, yet maybe he’s glad no one has walked past them for the last fifteen minutes.

“I missed you, I missed you, I missed you…” he’s muttering.

Phil’s whispering some soothing words to him, not really making any sense whatsoever. Dan just likes the sound of his voice right now. His cheek is resting on Phil’s shoulder softly, breathing in his scent, remembering the feeling of being comforted by the same arms years ago. He wants it to last forever.

There’s a sound, and suddenly everything’s exploding around them. The sky lights up with colors so bright that it may just as well be middle of the day. It’s still dark where they are, buildings and trees shielding most of the lights coming from the city center.

“Happy New Year” says Phil quietly, nudging him to look up. Dan does, despite the tears barely drying on his cheeks and his face probably looking like a potato.

“I’m such an idiot” he sighs. Phil gives him a smile.

“Yeah, me too.”

It’s a new year and they’re giggling at each other in the faint glow of the fireworks. Nothing has changed.

10

Since the NBA enforced a dress code, the players have upped their style game becoming some of the best dress pro-athletes on the planet. Dwyane Wade, Russell Westbrook, LeBron James and Carmelo Anthony are just a few ballers who have embraced their inner fashionista’s, raising the swag of the league.

But what if players could take their stylish tastes to the court? Well, fashion illustrator Meagan Morrison brought that idea to life, as she created these creative high fashion jerseys.