For gracefulsunshine, syzygiumaromaticum, xskusilx, intricatelydetailedurloffandoms, and gayprotagonist. You guys wanted it, you better like it (ಠ_ಠ).
Genre: Crack/Drama/AttemptatHumor/Romance. (Don't take it too seriously).
Pairing: Eventual RivaEre, but it's not really the main point until later.
Rating: T for typical high school bullshit.
Summary: Cheerleader!Eren had enough problems. Like dealing with an aggravating team member, convincing his crush cheerleading was a legitimate sport, and preparing for the State Championship. But his coach just announced she's laying off one member of the team at the end of the month and Eren will have to step up his game, or get kicked off his dream for good.
At Wall Sina High, everything was different. Like, literally different. During summer, some thugs had found it fit to trash and graffiti the campus everywhere. Which wasn't that new, Wall Maria High wasn't one of the more esteemed schools. It was, in fact, very ghetto. But these thugs were very efficient, and managed to maim every wall and leave a few lewd messages.
Mostly: Colossal Titanic Penis and Armored Titanic Penis, like it was some sort of signature. The school staff had enough, running to the union district for more money to fix up their poor excuse of a school. The district finally relented, and the school decided to change its name to Wall Sina High. The campus looked brand new, expensive, and actually something worth paying for.
Eren hated it. He swore when he found out who the dumbasses who decided to trash the school were, he'd kill them. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the new fountains, the new lunch tables, the new trees, the new everything. He did really, but why did everything have to become so much more expensive? Eren was a far cry from wealthy, being an orphan and all, and he still needed to keep a roof up for him and Mikasa.
They resorted to Wall Maria High because it accepted potentially gifted students and paid for their expenses in hopes it would up their own averages and reputation. Now that it was Wall Sina High, things were different.
The boy sighed, closed his locker with a slam. At least he still had cheerleading. Ah yes, cheerleading. It was the only positive in his life, since he was exceptionally good at it. Not as good as Mikasa, or Reiner, or Annie, or whatever, but he was still in the top ten easily. It was nice to feel the air between his legs as he moved around the court swiftly, and the possibility of falling and breaking his neck exhilarated him.
Of course some people don't see it that way, Eren thought as he started towards first period, shoving people out of the way with a determined look. Some people denounced cheer leading as something superfluous, an excuse to show some skin. And while that may be true for some, it didn't change the fact that cheer leading required athletes, finesse, and hard work.
Eren arrived at his classroom, hesitated for a moment before entering. Damn, he was early. The room was mostly vacant except for the old batty teacher, Ms. Franz, who was drawing something up on the board. And nestled in the back of the classroom was an old teacher's desk. And on that desk was a pair of immaculately cleaned boots. And connected to those boots were amazing lean legs and a toned chest just underneath the school uniform and above that was a scowling pretty face, a glare, and a curse, and then-
Eren cursed when the pen hit his face, rubbing at his eyes. Rivaille hummed in approval of his pain.
Damn, Eren thought, why do I have to be attracted to such a douche?
"Next time, you should at least greet your superior politely before ogling them," Rivaille drawled, leaning a side of his face on one hand. Ignoring his flush, Eren stomped over to the senior, scowling.
"I wasn't ogling you!" Eren said, struggled for more words. "I- I was just wondering how such a gross thing existed." The argument sounded lame even to him. Rivaille scoffed, looked out into the window, effectively dismissing him.
Eren frowned as he sat down. Yeah, definitely a douche. Still, Eren thought as he rubbed the spot where the pen had hit him, the guy has his good qualities. He wasted his elective on helping batty old teachers in class. And he could be kind, maybe, sometimes. Nah. He was still a dick, dismissing his fans and popularity.
"Say, Eren," Rivaille started, and the boy flinched, looked over hesitantly. The senior wasn't looking at him, one arm draped over his chair with his legs crossed. "Do you hate me?"
Eren's eyes widened in surprise and apprehension before he sighed. "No. I understand that sometimes, being who you are can be overwhelming and you shouldn't be obligated to smile for everyone..." The boy trailed off.
"Good, then," Rivaille said, and Eren could swear he heard a smile in his voice (curse his wishful thinking). "The seats are permanent, by the way, so you should move before class starts." Eren blinked, noticed how he was seated in the desk closest to the teacher desk Rivaille occupied.
"Ah," Eren muttered, "no, I think I'll be fine here." He looked over to gauge Rivaille's reaction but the bell had already rung and Ms. Franz was calling for attention.
Eren didn't know when this crushing thing started, but he knew it wasn't when he met the other boy initially. It was just last year when Eren found out one of the most popular guys in school was going to be a teacher assistant in his class. Rivaille was the quarterback of the football team, and despite his height and build, he was surprisingly good at it. Eren had expected something...more.
Because Rivaille was a freak, period. He glared too much, had some kind of OCD problem, and it was like he was always had some kind of unfounded disappointment in everything you did. He was seated in the back of the class, always watching. It was creepy. And then there was that one time Eren remembered well:
They were taking a test, and out of the corner of his eye, Eren spotted the girl next to him spit her gum on her palm. She reached down to stick it on the bottom of the desk when an eraser slammed into her head, throwing her across the room and out the window. Everyone screamed as the glass shattered, gathered around the window. Luckily, it was the first floor and there were bushes outside. But still.
Everyone assumed it was a supernatural force or some karma bullshit, because even the teacher who was watching said she saw no one stand up to pick her up and throw her out, which was obviously the only explanation. But for Eren, that eraser looked awfully familiar. He could have sworn he saw Rivaille playing around with it at the beginning of class. The boy glanced behind him, whipped around immediately.
Rivaille had stared at him with a knowing look. Eren coughed, got his stuff and left the classroom. No one noticed.
Yeah, the attraction didn't start there. And the guy thought cheer leading was a joke! Eren sighed. Typical high school bullshit.
Something slammed into his shoulder harshly as Eren was moving to the court for practice.
"Oh sorry, I didn't notice you there," Jean smiled down at him sweetly, offered a hand to help him up. Eren stared at the hand as if it burned, but took it firmly, squeezing a little too tight. Jean didn't seem fazed in the slightest, squeezing back as he pulled Eren up. "You must get that a lot, yknow, the not noticing thing."
When Jean let go of his hand, Eren resisted the urge to bathe his hand in hand sanitizer. "Well, I can't blame the visually impaired. I can only pity them."
Jean's calm face broke for a moment, but he resumed it soon enough. "Well luckily my eyesight's good enough to notice how beautiful your hair is today." Eren looked disgusted until he noticed the other boy had turned to someone behind him.
"Thanks," Mikasa muttered, grabbed Eren's sleeve and tugged him ahead. If you listened closely, you could hear a heart breaking.
"Hey," Eren said as the girl shoved people out of the way (a family characteristic), "hey!" He snatched his sleeve back and Mikasa finally slowed.
"What's the big deal? This isn't the track team."
Mikasa gave Eren a hard stare before softening, crossing her arms and pulling her red scarf up to her face. "So you didn't hear?"
"About what?" Mikasa didn't answer, only tugged him to the court more quickly. Inside, most of the team were already gathered, missing only Jean who shuffled in behind them. When their coach, a strict woman named Rico Brzenska, noticed everyone was present, she blew her whistle to call attention. Everyone grew silent.
"As you all know, we've had some major changes over break. One of those changes is the number of members allowed for the cheer squad." The coach cleared her throat as people started to whisper. "This year, we will only be allowing the top ten in." Someone touched Eren's shoulder and he looked behind him to see Armin giving Mikasa and him a worried look.
"I'll be announcing them now: Mikasa Ackerman, Reiner Braun, Bertholdt Fubar, Annie Leonhardt, Eren Jaeger, Jean Kirschtein, Marco Bodt, Connie Springer, Sasha Braus, and Christa Renz." Armin's hand dropped.
"However," the coach pressed on, "there are a few noted exceptions. Armin Arlelt has shown an exceptional amount of intelligence that appeals to me greatly, seeing as some of you can't even hold a decent conversation before pissing all over to show your 'dominance'." Here, she shot a scolding glare to Eren.
"And then there's Ymir. Don't act like you didn't totally brush this off so Christa could get the spot. I've watched you." In the assembly, Eren heard a scoff.
"Now what does this mean? It means that all twelve of you will be fighting for a spot on this squad with more vigor. Everyone from the top ten is susceptible to removal from the team. And don't act like your life outside of this practice room isn't applied. I will not have this squad's reputation scathed because you guys can't grow up. Now, there will be no practice for today, so run along and think about your choices. Dismissed."
People started shuffling out but the top twelve lingered.
"Well, we know Mikasa's staying," Jean said.
"Don't be so sure," Eren said, just out of spite, "she's great at football and they're looking for a new recruit." Jean glared, stepped closer with a fire in his eyes.
"Eh? Are you just gonna force her out of this team? Just because you're insecure about your place in this team..."
"Last time I checked, I scored above you," Eren grinned, stepping closer with his hands clenched into fists.
"I'm staying with you, Eren," Mikasa deadpanned, "no matter what."
Jean's face fell and he turned away. Eren sighed, "I know Mikasa, jeez, totally ruined the mood."
"I'd love to watch you practice for your gay porno more, really," Ymir drawled, arm wrapped around Christa's shoulders, "but I've already forfeited this thing. We'll just have to find someone else and then no need to worry."
"Don't be naïve, Ymir," Reiner said, glancing at Christa who was watching them silently, "if you give up without even trying, the coach will punish Christa too." Ymir tched, but didn't reply.
"Well," Armin spoke up, "we have to split into teams. The coach would want to see us coöperate together, but there's always going to be conflict so we might as well split into small teams so it comes in a package deal. Make up for the others' weaknesses and strengthen the others' strengths."
Immediately, Mikasa threw Eren and Armin over her shoulder. "I have my team."
"Well isn't this nice and comfy," Armin grunted, and Eren could say nothing, his mouth stuffed with the back of Mikasa's jacket. After a while, Mikasa finally deigned to set them down. Eren coughed, looked around him at the other teams.
Marco-Jean-Connie. Reiner-Bertholdt-Annie. Sasha-Christa-Ymir.
He wasn't surprised or that worried, truth be told. Still, he couldn't help but feel it would have been better if he avoided cheer leading altogether. And then he remembered the day that changed his life forever.
It happened on a clear, crisp, summer day, when the air smelled of badly hosted barbeques, the ones where the meat smells like shit and tastes just the same. Eren was seated in the attic, fishing through old dusty boxes of his parents. His mother had asked him to go find her old album because Mikasa had wanted to know how their parents met.
He coughed as he rummaged through one box labeled 'highschool'. It was notably smaller than the rest, as if his parents didn't have much stuff from highschool they were proud of, and a lot dustier. It probably didn't have the album Mother was talking about, but Eren was curious. He blinked when his fingers met something cold and smooth, like metal, and pulled it out.
The thing was dusty, but still golden, and the boy blew off the dust. It revealed a trophy in the shape of a golden cheerleader standing proudly on a pedestal. There were engraved words on the plaque but they had long since been ruined, and Eren wasn't really good at reading anyways. Forgetting about the album, he rushed downstairs to show his findings to Mikasa and Mother, taking two steps at a time.
He found them both in the living room, lounging on the couch and watching television. Mother was yawning as they watched an old chick flick, and Mikasa didn't look particularly impressed either. Which was rather insulting because Eren was the one who wanted to watch it in the first place and it was a good movie, damn it. Before he could announce his treasure he noticed half of Mikasa's face was still wrapped around in that red scarf he had gifted her. He walked up and tugged on it.
"Isn't it hot in there?" He queried and she just shook her head, eyes distracted by window for a second and then returning to his. Eren shrugged and stepped in front of the television, ignored how his family looked slightly relieved.
"Look what I found!" Eren said, bringing out the trophy. Mikasa straightened, holding out her hand, and Eren gave it to her. The girl scrutinized the trophy closely, running her fingers over the words that had been scratched out.
"You never told me you were a cheerleader," Eren accused his mother, though he didn't know why he was insulted. Mother, who had been staring at the trophy with a slight smile, glanced up at him. Confusion was etched on her features before comprehension dawned. She laughed.
"That's because I never was," Mother said, nodded towards the trophy, "that's your Father's. He was one of the best." Her eyes took on a glazed expression.
"He used to cheer the loudest for me. I was the quarterback, you know, never got a trophy for it, but still. He used to be the best, your father." Mother frowned. "I didn't meet him under the best circumstances, but I've moved on. Unfortunately, your father has not. But it pays the bills, so I'll take a pill."
"What?" Eren asked, bemused and his mother coughed abruptly, shook her head. She looked flustered, like she had let out something she hadn't meant to, and stood up.
"Laundry Day," Mother announced, picked up the empty basket beside her, and rushed off. Eren turned to Mikasa with a confused expression and she just shrugged in response.
Parents are weird, Eren decided and went to go find his father to show him his findings as well.
He found his father in his office. Which wasn't really an office really, just a poor excuse of a desk shoved in the corner and an arrangement of boxes and debris everywhere, but they called it that to not hurt the man's self esteem. Father had said he needed office space because he was a doctor. When Eren had asked further, his mother just leaned in and whispered in his ear, "He's a special kind of doctor."
Eren hadn't asked her to elaborate.
Father was huddled in the corner, back turned to him. Eren tiptoed up to the man, just till he was right behind him.
"Boo!"
Father started, crying out as he turned around and swiped a strange object downwards where it stabbed into Eren's arm. Eren dropped the trophy immediately as a surge of pain traveled up his arm, tears in his eyes. It rolled away, tapped against his father's feet. Father floundered for a moment as he realized what he just did, took the syringe out immediately.
"Eren!" Father said in an abnormally tense voice, grasping his wounded arm to look at. "Eren!"
"I'm right here," Eren grumbled, wincing at Father's high-pitched voice. Father was staring down at Eren's arm with a pale face and a sweat had broken out on his forehead. His fingers tightened on Eren's arm. As the man was glancing down he noticed the trophy at his feet, blinked.
"Ah, you see here, Eren," Father began, a false calm commandeering his voice,"this is what I've meant to show you."
At Eren's confused look, Father elaborated, "What I've just injected you with, this, this will save us all. It holds the key to all mankind's destruction. Now you might be feeling a little funny now, and might forget this conversation, but rest assured, I know you will do best."
"But it was empty," Eren said.
"Empty?"
"Yeah," Eren muttered, twisting his arm from his father's hands, "It just hurt." Father almost collapsed in relief but grabbed Eren's arm again.
"That's good, that's good," Father murmured to himself, "I remember now. That one was unused. Oh, it's a miracle." Tears were actually forming in Father's eyes, like he had just been saved from his death or something. He shook his head, straightened after a few tries, and brought out a small band-aid from his pocket. Father moved to put it on Eren's arm but missed completely, instead slapping it on Eren's face. How his hand-eye coördination was that messed up, Eren didn't know, but he shrugged it off as Father needing new glasses, and fixed the mistake.
"What do you mean mankind's destruction?" Eren asked, rubbing his arm. Father looked dumb-founded.
"You just said that thing would save us all."
"Yes, yes of course," Father said, not sounding sure at all. The man looked around him wildly, searching for something. His eyes found the trophy and he picked it up, pushed it into Eren's hands.
"You must become a cheerleader, Eren," Father pronounced solemnly, "You owe it to humanity."
"What?"
"You see, people just don't understand. They think cheer leading isn't a professional sport but it is, damn it! Do you know how hard it was to jump around with a smile on your face even when you could have just broken your neck? Do you? Do you?" Father shook him, and his glasses started slipping off his nose.
"No," Eren said carefully.
"You will, son, you will," Father said, patting Eren on the head. He cleared his throat, stood up.
"Now, I have to go shopping, stay here and take care of your family."
It would take Eren five years to figure out his father was stoned outta his mind. It would take five years before Eren realized his father probably didn't get kidnapped and stolen away but got so high the man didn't remember his own name, let alone where he lived. Or maybe someone finally busted a cap on his ass; drug-dealing was a dangerous profession after all. It would take Eren five years to understand that maybe he shouldn't have dedicated so many years into cheerleading when he could have become something his mother wanted him to be, like a football player or something. But by then, it was too late.
Note: I think this was way more fun to write than read.