#he is actually stuck btw the knot one of his arms tied itself into for support is keeping him dangling

[doggosomniac]

[readerficsbyhyaku]

On the verge of broken dreams (Hop x Reader) Part 2

author’s note

Okay so this may be slow burn-ish. I’m the most impatient fuck but i had a great idea for this story so, in the event i actually finish it, it should be cool. Btw you can follow me/bookmark this on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyaku . Makes it easier to read all the chapters too.

The next day, you were up early to prepare for your match against Leon. As time went by, you felt your stomach begin to coil into knots, tension building up steadily inside you. When you changed into your gym uniform, you weren’t sure what scared you the most. Was is losing, and that all you had done up until now would be worthless ? Or was it winning and making all that Leon had done until now voided ? Thinking about Leon losing was a crazy thought in itself, but thinking about what consequences that would have was far more terrifying.

And it didn’t help that Leon looked so alike to Hop, you couldn’t help but be reminded of how you had robbed your best friend of his goal in life. But for the sake of everybody cheering you in the stadium, your mom rooting for you at home, your Pokémons, your friends… You had to battle with all your might. You couldn’t half-ass it right now.

You sighed while checking your shoelaces were nicely tied. It wasn’t use torturing yourself about it right now. Leon was undefeated after all, you might as well be just another pebble on his throne of victory.

As the stadium staff told you it was your turn to get onto the pitch, the ball in your stomach became unbelievably heavy. The dozen steps you had to take in the small tunnel under the rows of seats seemed to stretch like gum, your legs feeling numb and wobbly. But against all odds, you managed to emerge into the blazing lights of Wyndon Stadium and walked up to the center of it. In front of you, Leon was doing the same, the widest smile on his face and an absolutely confident demeanor.

There was no way you could beat him, right ?

He grinned at you, saying that he was excited to battle you, that you were promising and such, but his words were drowning in the tension and the cries of everybody around. Then he removed his cape in a swift movement and the battle began.

If you were bedazzled by the atmosphere of the champion fight at first, muscle memory came back after a few instants and your Pokémon synced in with you perfectly. You didn’t have the best or most optimal team by type standards, but you had Pokémon you loved and they gave it back to you tenfold. You could trust them to take a hard hit and still stand up, to fight until the end and then a bit more. Where sometimes you felt in a pinch or at loss for action, your friends compensated by going all in and brute forcing the opposite team with an energy you’d rarely seen before.

And, at last, you were up against Leon’s Charizard. While the orange dragon looked nothing too impressive in his normal form, that was bound to change when the champion gigantamaxed him. Looming over the field, the enormous reptile taunted your whole team. So you did the same, sending one of your Pokémon to dynamax. It wasn’t as flashy as Leon’s throw and transformation, but you found your Pokémon to be way cooler.

Picking one of Charizard’s weaknesses, you ordered your attack but the big dragon was faster. And even if your Pokémon wasn’t weak to fire per se, it hit him, hard. Charizard was in no better shape though, and looking up at your Pokémon, you mouthed a silent “sorry”. You couldn’t draw him out before the next attack, and he knew that if he avoided this one, it would fall on another teammate. So he toughened up and waited for your orders, head held high. Charizard scorched the battlefield again, and your Pokémon fainted in a gigantic explosion of dynamax energy and fire, retreating immediately to his Pokéball.

“You did great” you muttered while choosing who was going next.

Charizard only had one turn in Gigantamax left, so you chose another tough Pokémon that should be able to withstand at least one hit. Just one. You sent your pick next, and it was then that you realized you were one hit close to beating Leon. The undefeatable champion.

Staring at him across the field, you saw sweat dripping on his brow, and his usually wide, beaming eyes were now looking very concentrated, and maybe worried. He was down to his last Pokémon, which hadn’t happened in a long time. His eyebrows were frowned, and his hand hovered to his Pokéball belt in a protective manner.

Your heart ached again, being reminded how you had already broken Hop, and were possibly about to do the same to his brother. Your mind raced and you almost wanted to give up. You didn’t want to beat him, did you ? You wanted to… but you didn’t want to rob him of his future. There was no way you could see Leon as something else than the champion of Galar, and the one Hop was looking up to.

Your eyes wandered into the public and on the front row, you saw Sonia, Marnie, all the gym leaders and… Hop. Hop was there, cheering but you couldn’t hear what he was screaming. Even from the distance, your gazes met, and Hop seemed to smile even wider. Your stomach flipped upside down, hair standing up on the back of your neck. Was he cheering you ? Baffled, you pointed at yourself while wearing the most puzzled expression, and Hop started waving like crazy and jumping around.

You couldn’t let him down a second time.

The ball in your gut having nestled in your throat, you croakily order your Pokémon to attack one last time, and this time he’s faster than Charizard. You almost don’t see the two creatures collide and then Leon’s Pokémon is out in an explosion. And he has not one more to spare.

The public roars louder than you’ve ever heard and for a moment it blanks out every other sensation or thought in your body. You can see Leon hiding his face with his cap, something you’ve never seen him do before. The sound gradually dies down as the public waits for a speech from their new champion, but you can’t move a finger.

Hopefully, Leon saves you once more and pulls you into a hug. You’re thankful he did, because your legs wouldn’t have held you much longer. You wrap your arms around him and try very hard to keep the tears at bay, your arms trembling and your head feeling fuzzy like a Cottonee. Leon finally pulls away and says, a mix of sadness and joy in his voice

“I’m so glad I battled you. It was one of the best matches I ever had.”

Then he grabs your hand to raise it high in the sky and claims

“Galar, you have a new Champion !!”

And the public screams again, a thunderous sound that shakes the walls of the stadium and almost makes you fall.

After waving and smiling a few times, maybe uttering a few thank yous, you retreat to your locker room, still stunned.

You’re the champion. You have beaten Leon. Was it the right choice, though ? You didn’t really have any other…

You felt too exhausted to change, and Leon had given you his big cape “For the time being”. You didn’t quite listen to him, so either he was willing to take back his title, or it was for the time your official champion uniform took to be made. Either way, it made you feel safer, and if everything was too much you could just curl up under it and forget about the world, and what a horrible person you were.

Moving out of the locker room, you were assaulted by a crowd of reporters and people calling your name, asking you questions, going as far as grabbing your hands, your clothes, touching you. You smiled weakly while tugging the cape closer to you, and then the crowd parted a bit. You saw Hop rush towards you and literally jump onto you.

“You did it, mate !!!” he exclaimed while giving you the biggest, tightest hug you ever felt from him.

His eyes were gleaming, his smile was the widest, and he couldn’t stay in place. He looked so happy for you but you couldn’t help but think he should’ve been in your place.

You wanted to tell him how much you were sorry, how bad you felt, how you didn’t deserve any of this. Maybe you wanted him to be mad at you, just a little bit, so you wouldn’t feel like such a fraud. But the words were stuck in your throat, your head spinning because of the amount of people around you.

So you did the next logical thing : you grabbed Hop and ran into one of the elevators that were inside the lobby, and ordered the doors to be closed. Pressing a random floor button, you sighed as the sound of the crowd grew lower and thinner. Hop was taken aback, staring at you with a puzzled look.

“Hop, I’m so sorry !”

You grabbed him by the shoulders, to anchor you and not run away rather than the other way round. The words spilled from your mouth and there was nothing to stop them.

“I’ve done it again… I’ve taken Leon’s dream after taking yours, I’m the worst.”

You felt the ball starting to rise again, much quicker, and your voice cracked and shivered.

“I tried to find a way out. I wanted to stop it, to give up, to say I didn’t want to be the champion. I would’ve done anything, anything. You should’ve been the one facing him, Hop”

Your voice broke as you said his name and you couldn’t say anything more, tears threatening to spill over.

Hop called your name gently a few times, until you rose your head to look at him, eyes glistening.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s not your fault I couldn’t get to battle Leon, if it was anyone’s fault it was mine. And you did a great job today, don’t let anyone tell you you’re not worthy of being the champion.”

While he was saying that, he was rubbing gentle circles onto your shoulders to ease up the tension, and was giving you a very soft smile. His eyes were proud yet muddled with worry, and you felt another pang of guilt in your heart. You made him worry…

“As for Leon, I’m sure he’ll deal with it. If he was scared of losing his title, he wouldn’t endorse anyone. He looked like he was having fun, he’ll get over it.”

You stared into his eyes as he tried to reason and calm you. You wanted to believe him so much. You wanted to push all the terrible thoughts you held for yourself far, far away.

Even if he wasn’t your rival anymore, you still felt some yearning for him. There was something drawing you to him and in this instant, you wanted to stay like this forever. Just you and him, holding him and being held. His voice telling you that everything would be okay, soft whispers to soothe the turbulent emotions inside of you.

The elevator slowed down and you realized you were back to the ground floor, the sound of the reporters getting stronger again. You heard a small ding, and knew the doors would open soon.

Hop seemed to be lost in the same reverie as you, his stare gliding over your features, hands a bit firmer, stronger onto your shoulders. His long lashes fluttered when his gaze lowered and you wanted to see him do it again.

The doors started to open with a low hiss and, by Arceus, you wanted to slam the button to close the door so hard. You wanted this instant to last just a bit longer before being caught in the whirlpool of reality again so much. But you couldn’t. As the doors revealed the crowd to you and you to the crowd, the moment was over and Hop’s hand quickly fell from your body as he stared at the horde of fans, a bit intimidated.

As you went out of the elevator, you smiled at the crowd and signed autographs, and when one of the nosiest journalists asked what you were doing with your rival, you answered

“Hop is my friend, and will always be. He is my friend before being my rival, and I’m his friend before being the Champion. The fact that I have won changes nothing, as we both fought with all we had.”

You at least wanted to make things a little bit right for him. This wouldn’t erase anything, but you wanted him to know… you would’ve done anything for him.

[codevassie]

For the writing promt, how about shatt museum date? (btw i love a sky full of stars soo much =)

CV: There is literally no excuse for this being this late. I’ve gone through the excuse of school work many a time. I went through spring break. I went through an actual musuem last week and that was it. Literally no excuses left. Even though it is very very super late, I hope you enjoy anyway! And I’m glad you liked asfos; thank you so much!!!!

Matt’s hair had grown longer in the time they’d been apart. Shiro expected it would have hung over his eyes if Matt hadn’t tied it up in a weird knot back on his head, his glasses pushed atop to keep back the sprigs that the ponytail couldn’t pick up. He was sitting at the tables outside the museum as Shiro approached, head in some book, eyes squinting as he tried to make out the text in the shade of an umbrella.

Shiro chuckled, but decided to stay quiet as he came near, taking the moment to really savor it. Matt looked beautiful; he always looked beautiful, but it had been so long since they’d seen each other face-to-face that Shiro felt he could root himself to this spot for the rest of the day and be content.

Except, he knew he wouldn’t. Because Matt was so close. And it had been months.

“You’re going to hurt your eyes more if you don’t use your glasses,” he said as he stepped into the only light Matt had, casting a shadow over his book and person. Matt’s head bolted up, eyes alight and excited. He jumped up, throwing his arms around Shiro.

“Takashi!” he exclaimed, laughing. Shiro wrapped his arms around Matt in return and felt the other squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

“You’re going to suffocate me before we’ve even gotten into the building,” Shiro gasped out. Matt, for a moment, squeezed harder just to prove a point, then stepped back, a wicked smirk on his face.

“You’ve grown weak at school,” he challenged. “You used to be able to take my hugs.”

“And you used to be a weakling with noodle arms,” Shiro countered. “What’s your school doing to you? What are you eating?”

“Monster and canned ravioli, typically,” Matt answered, and the sad thing was, he was probably telling the truth. Shiro frowned at him.

“Matt,” he sighed, but he couldn’t scold him. Maybe later. Right now, he was too happy to see his boyfriend to give a damn. “So,” Shiro said, finally stepping back a bit to look up at the building they were standing in front of, “An art museum. What made you decide that?”

“Not everything in my life revolves around space and computers, Shiro,” Matt teased, but Shiro raised an eyebrow and Matt sighed. “What? I thought we could get cultured.”

Shiro laughed. “When have you ever cared about being cultured?”

“Well,” Matt scratched the back of his head, “You seemed pretty interested in that art appreciation class you took last semester. So, I figured, why not?”

“Oh,” Shiro said, eyes widening. He hoped his face didn’t look as warm as it felt.

“Besides, that means you can be our tour guide,” Matt said, teasing again, and Shiro laughed.

“A single art appreciation class isn’t going to make me a tour guide, Matt.”

“Let’s test it out, Mr. Shirogane, then we will see,” Matt said, then tugged him into the museum.

-/-

Matt was squinting at his book again.

“What is that?” Shiro asked, distracted from the statue they were looking at. According to the placard, it was made of wood and raffia.

“I got it from the gift shop. It’s stuff about the pieces, but it’s hard to navigate,” Matt answered, flipping through a few pages, then sighing. He tossed the guidebook to Shiro. “Your turn. Try to figure it out. Also, take a picture of me with this guy.”

“You want me to look through this book and take a picture at the same time?”

“I assume you are a man of multi-tasking abilities, Shiro.”

Shiro sighed, then took out his phone and snapped a picture of Matt making double peace signs next to the statue. He smiled at the phone, quickly made it his new background, then went to the book. They walked as he flipped through it. Matt stopped at the next piece over.

“We’ll never make it through the whole museum if we stop at every piece, Matt,” he warned, but Matt was reading the placard, probably not listening. “Put on your glasses,” Shiro, for probably the hundredth time that day, reminded his boyfriend. Matt nodded and let the inertia slip the glasses onto his nose. Shiro snorted while scanning the guidebook. “Found  it.”

“No way!” Matt exclaimed, causing a few people to look their way in irritation. Matt crowded at his side, peering at the picture in the book, and, sure enough, it was the piece in front of them. “How???”

Shiro just laughed, walking over to the next piece and rattling off some of the information about it from the guidebook for them both to hear.

-/-

They were sat at one of the many benches throughout the museum. The benches were placed so people could admire pieces for longer periods of time. And, sure, Matt and Shiro admired plenty, but their legs were killing them and the bench was a blessing for that too.

“I never realized museums were so much work,” Matt said, slumping against his boyfriend.

“You mean, when you aren’t jumping around from rocket exhibit to rocket exhibit?”

“Hey, that tires me out too,” Matt said and Shiro shrugged. “This is still a lot of fun, though. I don’t know a whole ton about art, but it’s really nice.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Shiro replied, resting his head atop Matt’s. He set serene eyes on the oil piece before them. An ocean, a cliff, two little boys and colors mixed so beautifully that Shiro wished he knew a bit more about art to understand how it was so beautiful.

“I wish we could spend time together like this more often,” Matt sighed. Shiro twined their hands together without moving too much, never taking his eyes from the painting.

“I wish our campuses weren’t so far away from each other,” he agreed.

-/-

“I have never wanted to touch a piece of art more than I have right now,” Matt whispered furiously into Shiro’s ear, eyes trained on a marble statue. “How do sculptures do it?”

Shiro looked at it too, eyes scanning over the woman’s smooth cheeks and the folds and creases of her dress. It was truly amazing. It was stone. It was marble. But it looked so soft, malleable.

“Beats me,” he said. Their hands were still linked, and he dragged Matt away from the sculpture to some of the silver pieces in a glass cabinet.

“Artists, man,” Matt murmured. They entered another room, this one filled with more modern-looking art. Matt sucked in a breath at a light display and practically ran to it, dragging Shiro by the hand. “Fuck,” he swore, his eyes reflecting the glow as they took it all in. It was hard to take his eyes off of, the art that was Matt in his awe. Eyes wide, a galaxy of wonder in them, light illuminating his face like he was gazing on heaven itself. It made Shiro feel like he was the one looking at heaven.

At the thought, Shiro suddenly felt his face and neck explode in heat and he tore his gaze away, looking towards the lights with Matt. He couldn’t really focus on it. After what he had already seen, it didn’t hold the same magnificence.

-/-

Shiro’s feet were killing him as they approached the exit of the museum, but he wasn’t tired, per se. It was strangely invigorating, going through a museum; always something to see next. You never wanted to sit down because there was always something else, something new, around the corner. There wasn’t the same promise at the exit of the building, but he was pretty certain his body was carrying him through despite the fact. It didn’t seem to care about the exercise anymore.

The sky was beginning to dim outside, to Shiro’s surprise, and he checked the time on his phone.

“Wow, I didn’t realize it was getting so late,” he remarked. Matt frowned, looking over his shoulder at the time.

“I don’t want to leave yet,” he whined, but it was soft and sad. Shiro squeezed his hand.

“I’ll walk you to the metro?” he asked, and Matt nodded.

As they walked down the streets to get to the next station, they remained silent, but stuck to each other like glue. It would be the last time they saw each other in person until the end of semester. Finals and projects and papers would start to pick up, and that, with Matt’s job and Shiro’s internship, would make it impossible to plan another day trip. Shiro tried resigning himself to more Skype calls, which were usually the highlight of his day, but, standing there with Matt, real and in the flesh, it was hard to go back.

He decided not to think about it again until it was time. For now, he savored being next to his boyfriend.

When they approached the station, they stood between the entrances to the two platforms, one going uptown and the other downtown. Shiro eyed the sign to downtown over Matt’s shoulder and felt something tug at his heart. He looked down to Matt’s hazel eyes, taking him in like it would be an eternity before they saw one another again. It felt like it would be.

“Call me when you get back to the dorms?” Matt asked and Shiro nodded.

“Don’t eat canned ravioli everyday just because I’m not there to stop you, okay?” Shiro replied. That got a small smile out of Matt.

“Tell Pidge and Keith and Allura I said hi.”

“Tell Rolo and Nyma not to drag you into too much trouble,” Shiro returned. Matt rolled his eyes.

“You act like they’re exclusively troublemakers.”

Shiro laughed. Matt’s eyes went to the clock near them, biting his lip, and shoulders going down. “The next train will be here soon, probably,” he said.

Shiro held onto Matt’s hand tighter. “Do you have to go?” he asked, heart desperate, but he already knew. They were both so busy.

“The fair’s tomorrow,” Matt said apologetically. “The invitation’s still open.”

Shiro shook his head. “My paper’s due Monday. I still have so much to do for it, and there’s a tutor session on Sunday.”

Matt nodded. He’d known this too, but it never hurt to try. They didn’t want to leave.

The clock ticked on. Their eyes locked and an understanding passed between them. Shiro leaned down, giving Matt one last lingering kiss, trying to commit it to memory for the next month and a half they would have to be apart. It was too long.

When they parted, Matt stepped back once. Twice. Three times before waving and turning his back, pulling out his metro pass and stepping through the gate. After the gate, he looked over his shoulder one last time before he got caught up in the crowd and was carried away.

Shiro stayed between the platforms, watching the entrance to the downtown platform for longer than he’d like to admit before sighing and turning to his own station.

He could survive until the end of term. They still had Skype.

Shiro already found himself looking forward to the next call.