Ah gods, sorry guys! I've been having some sever writer's block lately and have been straggling along to be able to write this chapter! That and the fact that I've been out at a cabin with no wifi for the better half of a week didn't help matters... But, I am sorry, nonetheless, and I'm trying to get these off.

And, just as a thought, if you guys like my writing, and have a Tumblr account, follow me at deadly-nadder-trainer! It's a HTTYD blog and I take asks to write oneshots! So, if you have a Tumblr and some ideas for oneshots, come and hit me up!

Okay, you all know the drill. I don't own HTTYD or any of the characters used!

In first period, Hiccup couldn't keep his eyes off of Astrid.

Granted, she did sit in the row in front of him and he couldn't look up at his teacher or at the board without coming across her intricately entwined blonde hair or her slender, muscular back. But, nonetheless, it seemed as if the cerulean-eyed beauty was all that he could concentrate on, forget his teacher preaching on about ineffectual information they would end up forgetting, no doubt in his mind.

Who needs to know about the government and things when you can write and draw?

The teacher, a vertically-challenged, hunch-backed man with a mop of thinning silvery hair and cold grey eyes, paced across the front of the room, crying out overly-complicated descriptions of random documents while using the point of his walking stick to jab at illegible chicken scratch scrawled across the board. The students seated in trim, orderly rows across the room were all sagged down into their seats, their eyes dull and almost glazed over.

Meanwhile, Astrid was slumping lower and lower into her seat, and Hiccup could see her shoulders sink down and her head loll back, coming to a rest on the back of her plastic seat. Her cobalt eyes were half-lidded as she stared idly at the old, withered man sermonizing as he smacked the end of his stick against the board, his voice growing more and more perturbed by each passing second.

With each scattered thwack that rang out through the room, the students' shoulders hunched up ever so slightly and their eyes narrowed just in the slightest.

It was an involuntary reflex for them, ever since the elderly teacher had heaved a History book at one of his students when he got agitated. Then, after that, he had lobbed his walking stick into the fray and conked an unsuspecting nerd in the head.

After the boy had been sent to the hospital with a minor concussion, the whacks made every student flinch and shy away. Surprisingly enough, he hadn't gotten fired, as he told the story that the kid had seemingly plummeted out of his chair and clobbered his head on a desk.

Ah yes, just another day with Mildew Fungus as your AP Government teacher. Hiccup's gaze shifted from the overly-discontented teacher to the blonde-haired siren seated in front of him, butterflies beginning to form a mosh pit in his core.

Today, she was wearing a simple pair of khaki pants and her blue, gold and white Vikings basketball jersey - which the whole team wears the day of a game - with her sandy blonde hair plaited into an ornate braid with an unornamented black headband holding back her bangs.

Hiccup couldn't believe how gorgeous the team captain looked in such simple attire, and he couldn't help but smile lovingly at her, supporting his head on his hand. He took notice of the fact that her eyes slowly angled downwards at her desk, and her right arm started making subtle movements, her lips upturning into a tiny, contented smile.

He quirked an eyebrow at her and casually stretched upwards so he was able to peer over her shoulder. He could see her willowy fingers curled around a flaxen pencil, the graphite cascading across the paper in graceful swoops and sharp, defined lines. Hiccup's interest peaked as her picture unfolded, depicting a clever-looking bird with feathery wings spread out as if it was about to take flight.

The bird had scattered blob-like markings around its wings and small, delicate, outstretched talons that looked as if they could do some damage. The avian had small eyes that gleamed with intelligence and an elegantly curved beak that was opened as if the bird was squawking. Hiccup's brow furrowed as he began to gnaw on his chapped lower lip.

Hmm… he thought to himself, his voice echoing around his head. Looks a little like a parakeet.

He continued watching her pencil define the bird, with added details to the feather vanes on the long wings and tail, and further attributes on the tarsus, making the bird look more realistic. Hiccup's breath suddenly abandoned him at the aesthetic drawing that the girl in front of him rendered, for he didn't know that she could draw this well.

He could've stared at the drawing for hours, just examining the graphic details and thought put into the pencil drawing, if not for the loud squawk of indignation that came from the front of the room. "Miss Hofferson!" Mr. Fungus screeched, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

Astrid's head shot up, her sapphire blue eyes wide in revelation and her lips pressed into a line of shock. Hiccup could see the color drain from her face as the elderly teacher glowered at her, his knuckles white around the handle of his walking stick. "Would you care to share your note with the class?" She shook her head so fast the newspaper editor was afraid that it would come loose and fall off.

Mr. Fungus then made a sound Hiccup could only describe as an animalistic growl as he narrowed his silvery-grey eyes. "Well then," he snapped venomously, jabbing the honed point of his stick at a small definition scrawled in black marker. "Would you care to explain what this term is, if you claim that you were, indeed, listening?"

Astrid's mouth flapped open and shut like a dehydrated fish as she examined the writing, tiny, pathetic squeaks escaping her lips. Mr. Fungus cocked an eyebrow, placing his hands on his hips and positioning himself in a way that made half the class cringe and look away with tears pressing up against the backs of their eyes.

The other half was too busy chuckling at the straight-A student fidgeting in her chair helplessly as she mumbled out random words under her breath.

Hiccup winced - he couldn't stand there for much longer and watch her squirm.

He leant forward in his seat, over his desk, and hissed "The electorate," under his breath. He saw the basketball player's eyes widen in remembrance and almost immediately, she loudly blurted, "The electorate!" Mr. Fungus's eyes enlarged and his mouth twisted into a harsh scowl.

"Correct…" he mumbled, obviously a little disappointed that she had gotten the curveball-of-a-question correct. He turned back around and began lecturing the class again, his tone noticeably a few notches darker than usual. Hiccup half-heartedly began to focus on his teacher, listening to the wrinkled man's nasally voice resounding throughout the mid-sized room so he wouldn't get in trouble like Astrid did.

Mildew wouldn't stand a second offense in one class period.

Hel, he barely handled one without busting an artery!

As the newspaper editor watched his teacher preach on, a tired groan escaping his lips, he saw a piece of paper slip onto his desk, folded neatly into quarters. He quirked an eyebrow but nonetheless grabbed it, warily eyeing his teacher as he opened it as quietly as possible. Once it was unfolded, all Hiccup could see were a couple small sentences scrawled in the upper half in messy, blocky handwriting.

Ah man, I owe you one, dude. He would've bitten my head off. Thanks Hiccup! - Astrid

He turned the slightly rumpled piece of paper over and caught sight of a drawing on the other side - the parakeet from before. A lump swelled in his chest and a warmth spread through his cheeks, and suddenly, it became hard for him to breathe. His lips upturned into a sappy grin as he shifted his gaze over to the blonde basketball player seated directly in front of him.

Yep. He was falling for her, and harder than he'd care to admit.

When the blasting, bothersome bell sounded, signaling that class had ended, Hiccup had barely realized any time had passed, and therefore was completely unprepared when the roaring mass of people surged by his desk, jostling him and essentially making him lose hearing in one ear.

He was too busy watching Astrid get swept out of the room to care, or notice, for that matter. One of her basketball friends - Hiccup thought her name was Rebecca or something like that - had her arm in a firm grip and was forcibly yanking her through the doorway and out into the flood of people in the hallway, yammering into her ear the whole way.

The bright smile that Astrid cracked made Hiccup's heart melt, and he could've sworn that he heard his heart begin to beat faster through the drone of the students and the angelic choir orchestrating through his head. He sat there for an instant before realizing that the next class had already begun to spill in, and that he was going to be late for English Lit if he sat there for much longer.

He seized his book and his scattered notebooks and stuffed them haphazardly into his blue and black backpack before dashing out of the room, rudely pushing past the dozens of seniors trudging haphazardly through the doorway.

Once Astrid passed through the doorway that lead to the calculus classroom, she felt the accumulated stress from the rest of the school day triple and weigh her down. An uncontrollable tic formed in her right eye as her shoulders rolled forward, her lips stretching into a wide grimace.

She slunk over to her seat in the front of the room and sat down, setting her backpack on the floor next to her. Her teacher, (who doubled as her basketball coach,) Mrs. Haddock, was seated at her desk in the corner of the room and had been looking over some worksheets when the blonde had walked in.

"Why, hello Astrid," the brunette woman adressed in her faint Nordic accent with a delighted smile, setting the papers that were previously in her hands on her desk. "Ready for the big game tonight?"

Astrid smiled and bent over to retrieve her book, her usually nimble fingers fumbling to unzip her bag. "Hey Mrs. Haddock," she greeted, finally managing to get a hold of her ever-elusive calculus book. "Yeah, I think I am. The girls are, too." She straightened, allowing her book to fall onto her desk with a subtle thump. "We ended up practicing until 5 last night," she recalled wistfully, her lower lip instinctively moving between her teeth. "The Warriors are going down."

Valka smiled at the girl, smile lines crinkling around her eyes. "Good, good," she said almost absentmindedly as she collected her papers once again. "And I'm really sorry that I couldn't make it last night. I just had some things to do at home." Astrid glanced down at her half-finished homework with a grimace.

After the past few weeks of bombing homework and quizzes in calculus, there was no way she was sweeping by with an A anymore. She was down to at least a C-, maybe and probably more.

She shook her head ruefully before replying in a low tone. "It's fine. We understood." Valka just bobbed her head up and down in such an offhand way that it reminded Astrid of Hiccup. Her lip returned to its rightful place between her teeth as she began scrawling in random answers in the empty blanks that had been strewn across her paper.

When the bell sounded, and the last few stragglers had rushed into their seats, Mrs. Haddock began class, beginning the whole thing with a, "Okay, everyone pass your homework up." that stopped Astrid's heart.

Oh, shit.

As Astrid sat on the bleachers, cheeks turning an unnatural shade of crimson, she forced herself to intake tiny sips of water as she watched her teammates scurry across the court. She vaguely noticed her coach pacing in front of the nearly empty bench, yelling across the hardwood at the scattered, wheezing Vikings.

The resounding cheers of the students packing the bleachers was just white noise as she watched the game. Her gaze shifted from her team to the glowing scoreboards placed on either end of the gym, which showed two sets of numbers that made a fire form in Astrid's stomach.

Home: 36.

Away: 41.

Now, the team captain enjoyed seeing this when they were at an away game.

She fathomed seeing this every away game.

She tolerated seeing this in the first half or so of any home game they had.

But, this wasn't a thing that the team captain wanted to see in the fourth period with only 5 minutes left on the clock.

Now, the Berserker Warriors were known for three things. One, their dirty way of playing. Two, their special way of escaping penalties. And three, the girls' extreme amounts of excess body hair.

Coach Haddock let out a loud, disgruntled sigh as a tall, rather beefy gal with armpit hair peeking out of her number 28 jersey knocked a Viking to the floor with a loud grunt. As the brunette mammoth let out a mocking, nasally laugh, the chocolate-haired girl on the court suddenly leapt to her feet, launching herself at the Warrior with a booming growl that Astrid heard from across the gym.

The ref quickly shuffled to intercept her, his face strained as he struggled to restrain the whole 140 pounds of pure fury that was about to tackle her opponent. The other ref just rolled his eyes and motioned towards the Warriors' side, blowing sharply into his whistle.

Valka groaned and motioned to the scorekeepers for a substitution, pursing her lips and tugging nervously at her dark blue polo shirt. "Hofferson!" she barked, running her hand over top of her face anxiously. "Switch in for Inman!" Astrid gave a solemn nod and practically leapt off the bench, flying across the court to the heaving girl slumping at point position.

"Come on, Piper," Astrid said gently as she reached the senior. "Go get some water." The brunette nodded, clapping her on the shoulder as she stumbled back to the bleachers. Before she staggered off the court, Astrid could've sworn she heard Piper mumble something along the lines of, "C'mon Astrid, you can do this." The blonde senior just grinned and motioned for the girls behind her to get into their defensive position.

The Warriors took their places just as the big 28 girl began dribbling the ball up the court with a loud yell of indignation. "I got 28!" Astrid barked loudly, moving to plant herself in front of the aforementioned varsity player. The large brunette sneered at her, her caterpillar eyebrows knitting together in concentration as she charged.

Astrid immediately got low, her shoulders over her knees and her knees above her toes, and stuck her arms out as if to say, Bring it.

She balanced on the balls of her feet and began shuffling about as the girl approached her, dribbling the ball safely away from her. Astrid feebly swiped at the ball once the girl got too close, but she swiftly backed out of range, surprisingly nimble for a girl of her...err...stature.

Then, the behemoth made the simple-minded mistake of trying to pass the ball to an equally-hairy teammate, and Astrid smiled, grabbing it and rushing off down the court before anyone could blink twice.

But, naturally, once they did realize she had bolted, they were unceremoniously stepping on her heels as they rushed down the court, not being able to completely overtake her.

Thor dammit, she thought to herself, gnawing aggravatedly on her lip as she continued attempting to escape the toes pressing down on her ankles. How are they so swift when they're so...big?

But, despite the barbaric leviathan drooling down the back of her jersey, she managed to make a clumsy layup before she fell to the court, landing hard on her stomach. She could faintly hear the ref's whistle blasting and feel the ball slapping her calf as she laid on the court and regained her bearings, shaking her head swiftly at the simple mistakes she had made.

She knew she had a bit of time when one of the Warriors began cussing up a storm at the fact that she had scored a point. As the refs began their feeble attempts to calm her down, she groaned softly and pushed herself up. When she looked like she was in the raised position of one of those "girl push-ups", a hand rested on her shoulder that caused Astrid to glance up.

She wasn't surprised to see Ruffnut standing there, her eyebrows creased as she fiddled with her matching blonde braids. She immediately stuck out a hand, which Astrid took gratefully. As she hauled herself up and mumbled out a quiet "Thanks," the team captain shot a quiet, concerned gaze at the scoreboard, which ticked the 36 into a 38 and received cheers from the stands.

The blonde just sighed and clapped her friend on the shoulder, marching back to the opposite side of the court to set up the preliminary defensive position again.

"Alright ladies," she said confidently when the Vikings came into earshot, shooting her team a mischievous grin.

"Let's kick some Warrior ass."