#shortaki week 2020

[polkahotness]

SHORTAKI WEEK DAY 1

FFN // AO3 

               Long Gone

Sometimes when I look at Helga, it's difficult to remember what it was like before we admitted our feelings for each other. Granted, Helga had admitted her feelings to me countless times and on numerous different occasions, but I had never been all that great at that sort of thing in response.

I supposed that my 'love language' just wasn't the same as hers and it made navigating through our relationship a tumultuous and difficult process at times.

Helga had always been so good with words—her feelings, though oftentimes hidden deep inside, were always so well-articulated. When she wanted to give up the truth behind them, her sentences were thoughtful; poetic, and they came out of her mouth with ease, despite inwardly struggling with that piece of vulnerability.

But me?

It seemed that I still hadn't quite figured out how to best voice my feelings.

It wasn't that I had a problem voicing them—I had no issue whatsoever telling Helga, Gerald, my next-door neighbor, or the entire world how I felt about her. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that I couldn't do it well. My attempts were often clumsy, and I had the tendency to ramble and stumble over each word like I was once again learning how to speak for the first time in my life.

Thankfully, Helga never held it against me. In fact, her response to my feeble attempts usually sounded something like, "Still struggling with that word thing, are we, footballhead?" Then she'd let out this soft little laugh while I blushed and would open my mouth to try and dispute her, though she never let me get that far. "I get it, babe. You love me. And I love you—" then she'd pause and smack my butt while following it up with, "—and that cute little ass of yours."

A lifetime of confusing feelings had changed a lot in the dynamic between Helga and myself—the last six of those years cementing our relationship in a way that 10-year-old-me could have never imagined.

We were the couple people oogled over. Our stories of the bully and the victim turning into lovers was one for the ages, and we never grew tired of talking about it or reminiscing over the foolish children we once were. While anyone with eyes could see the love that we held for one another, it was always Helga who seemed to vocalize it best. As the self-appointed designated speaker, she was usually the one who told our complicated love story as I draped my arm over her shoulders to hold her into me wherever it was that we sat.

Helga had figured out in our time together that I was the shower, and not the teller. My love for her looked like me making dinner when I knew she had a hard day at work and would be too tired to even heat up a tv dinner. It looked like me rubbing her feet while she lay unsuspecting on the couch with her legs on my lap as we binge-watched another series. My love was shown through buying her that book she'd been talking about for three weeks because it was the long-awaited follow-up to her favorite author's poetry book—and I'd even gotten the limited edition copy with the ornately designed cover and gold-lined pages because, while she'd never say it, I knew she preferred the special copy over the boring (and cheaper) paperback version.

It was all of those little things and more that told Helga how much I loved her. But all of those little things could never express what I needed to tell her next. The emotions and feelings I had to say this time around would require me to put my strengths of showing and my weaknesses of telling together so I could be bolder than I'd ever been before.

Because there was nothing in the world that I wouldn't do for her.

It may have taken us a while to realize just how deeply our love for one another went. Even after we'd admitted our feelings, we struggled to get to a place where we mutually realized we were each other's end game. I'm sure Helga already knew this fact because she seemed to have always known, even when we were children, but me? It had taken me much longer.

With Helga, I was always just a few steps behind.

But it was okay.

Helga always managed to wait patiently…always somehow knowing that I was making my way to her.

Throughout our years of syncopated dating habits, a funny thing happened that I could never push away. Helga never left my mind. No matter where I was or what I was doing with who, Helga always remained. It may have taken until we both hit 21 for the stars to officially align, but that night six years ago when we reconnected on our favorite bar's balcony that overlooked the bright lights of Hillwood… that night forever changed my life.

I could only hope it would provide that same luck tonight as we stood together, once again, on the bar's balcony while looking out at our hometown on a quiet autumn evening.

"You know, Arnoldo," Helga said after taking a swig from the bottle she was holding, "I was kind of surprised you wanted to come to this joint on our anniversary of all days."

Smirking at her statement, I shrugged my shoulders. "The balcony here is nice. I like looking out at the city, don't you?"

"Well, sure," she replied while focusing her attention out on the dotted lights of the faraway buildings that made up the skyline. "But we could have easily done it from somewhere less…" Twisting her body, she glanced behind herself towards the hubbub of noise from within the bar. Turning back around, she returned her gaze outward while finishing her sentiment. "I don't know, somewhere less… cheesy."

"Cheesy?" I intoned while eyeing her carefully. "What do you mean by that?"

"You know," she simply said while fixating her eyes ahead without so much as a flinch in my direction. "Taking me to the same place where we first 'officially' rekindled our relationship. I guess I would have thought you'd pick some fancy-pants restaurant to propose to me at."

My jaw instinctively dropped as I stared at Helga with my mouth agape.

Slowly she turned her head to look at me with a wicked grin. "I like the sentimentality part though," she offered as some kind of consolation prize. "But if you were to take us back somewhere and be all romantic by talking about the past, I would have chosen P.S 118 or something. Now that's a good throwback."

I was still in shock as she spoke; my mind not comprehending that Helga had so easily figured out my plans and then called me out on them without so much as a care in the world.

It seemed that, yet again, Helga was still one step ahead of me.

"But you… how did you… but," I shook my head while struggling to force out a somewhat-coherent response. "Didn't you, how could you have—"

"Arnold," she deadpanned, though a hint of a smile twitched at the corner of her lips, "You were at Gerald's for four hours the other day. You really think I didn't hear about your little 'plans' from Phoebe?"

"Phoebe told you?" I repeated in shock. "Phoebe. She's smarter than that, Helga. Why on earth would she think it was okay to tell you something this important?!" I exclaimed and Helga remained unphased; merely tilting her head in thought before looking away from me again.

Casually, she explained, "I never said she thought it was okay. I mean, criminy, I practically had to force it out of her."

"And you did that because…?"

Helga let out a chuckle before fully turning her entire body to face me directly. "I've been waiting for you to propose to me for years now, Arnold. Years." I could feel heat beginning to rise and fill in my cheeks. "Honestly, I was about ready to propose to you, and then Phoebe kept telling me that I couldn't do that because our anniversary was coming up so then I told her that it was the perfect time to propose, then one thing led to another and—"

"She didn't actually tell you, then, did she." I finished for her in a statement rather than a question, and Helga let out a heavy sigh.

"She didn't have to tell me," Helga said with a twinge of humor beneath her tone. "By the way she acted, I knew immediately what you were up to."

Silence settled between us and I fought the urge to explode in anger, frustration, and sheer disappointment. How was it that I was still so incapable of surprising Helga? How was it that even after all of this time, I was still that dense little boy unable to catch up to Helga and be the first to admit something for once.

How was it that I was somehow perpetually in the fourth grade, avoiding acting on my feelings?

Impulsively, I grabbed Helga's hand and began pulling her towards the inside of the bar, "C'mon," I told her as she followed along with an inquisitive set of eyes. "We're going somewhere."

"Where?" She scoffed out. "I thought you were going to ask me to marry you…"

"Oh, I am," I answered immediately and in a firm tone. "But I'm not doing it here."

"Ahh, a field trip, I see," Helga replied as we dodged and weaved our way through the drunken crowd of dancers cluttering the small bar. "And just where is it you have decided to take me for this romantic gesture?"

"Somewhere you won't be expecting this time," I told her with about 86% certainty. "At least… I hope."

As she set her half-empty bottle on a table that we passed by in pursuit of the door out, we finally exited the bar and began making our way down the sidewalk. I led us forward with determination while Helga trailed along in my wake; her longer legs allowing her to keep at my pace with ease.

"Seriously, what are you up to, Hair Boy?" Her tone was becoming almost nervous, and it only heightened my confidence that this new destination was where I should have brought her in the first place. It was a deep-seeded memory that we hadn't discussed since we were teenagers. This had to be the perfect place for a proposal.

This had to be it.

Continuing to drag her along, Helga's eyes shifted to take in her surroundings. Her brows furrowed as she tried to piece together the strange environment that I was leading her through—an old part of Hillwood that had been long forgotten. Most everything on each block had either been abandoned or demolished; the promises of new complexes and mini-malls now only graffitied rubble lost to the recent economic recession.

"Do you even know where we are?" Helga continued to try and coax my true purpose out of me. "You do realize that if we're lost, I am not paying for the taxi back."

It was a backhanded joke that signaled Helga was out of her element. I knew her tactics by now and she was currently baffled as to what was in store. The fact that I was going to propose tonight was already out in the open and there was no pretending it wasn't still going to happen. The way it was going to happen, however… now that was going to be vastly different.

I just hoped I was going to be able to pull it off. I didn't exactly have the greatest track record with speaking my feelings on the fly, but maybe that was for the best. In fact, by doing this completely unrehearsed, Helga would know that my words—as jumbled and clunky as they may come out—would be directly from the heart, my heart. Unrehearsed. Unpolished. Unfiltered.

Pulling Helga to a stop as we reached the corner of an unassuming block hidden in the outskirts of Hillwood, the two of us stood in place in front of a small building. Inside the window was a faded, 'For Lease' sign, and the cement that made up the foundation was filled with cracks that had allowed wild weeds to spurt from the ground and wiggle their way up towards the sky. At first glance, the building was old and decrepit—absolutely nothing special and certainly not somewhere worthy of a marriage proposal.

Glancing around at where I'd brought her, Helga eyed the building carefully before slowly turning to face me. "An abandoned building? What's so special about this place? There's nothing here."

"Exactly," I answered as Helga's brow raised in curiosity. "There isn't anything here. Not now, anyway." Looking over my shoulder, I gestured towards the dilapidated structure before continuing my thought. "It's been a lot of different things in the past, though."

"Oh really?" Helga humored me while letting go of my hand to cross her arms loosely over her chest. "Like what?"

"A clothing boutique. A tailoring company. I'm pretty sure there was a craft store in here too at one point—"

"What in the hell does any of that have to do with—" Helga interrupted, though I didn't allow her to keep talking.

Instead, I finished my sentence by asserting dominance and talking over her as she unsuccessfully tried to speak over me. "—but before all of that, this was a daycare."

Helga's eyes widened minimally, though she remained silent as if to give me the chance to continue.

And that's exactly what I did.

"Not so much a daycare as it was a pre-school, though."

More silence settled between us as Helga's eyes drifted from mine to look at the run-down building she hadn't recognized. "Urban Tots," she muttered out as though it were an afterthought rather than a declaration of acknowledgement.

At her fixation towards our old pre-school, I took the opportunity to shakily get down on one knee; my hand fumbling to reach the small box I'd been hiding inside the pocket of the jeans I was wearing. Pulling it out, Helga's eyes returned to me; water gathering at the base of her vision as she looked down at me with laser-focus.

"Helga," I began precariously, though I tried to keep myself calm as I turned the blue-velvet box over and over in my hands anxiously. "As you've proven tonight, you are and always have been one step ahead of me. Since the moment we met, something in you had the wherewithal to know that we weren't just classmates in some random neighborhood in a random city in this random universe we find ourselves living in. Something inside of you knew that we were more than that. It knew… you knew that we were so much more, that we were… that we are, soulmates."

"Arnold," Helga breathed out, but I held up a finger to stop her from saying anything else and throwing me off of my groove.

"Do you remember when we were fifteen?" I started and Helga smirked while staring at me incredulously. "You told me that you had loved me from the moment you first saw me which, to be fair, wasn't the first time you'd told me that, but I asked you when that was, when you had first seen me."

A small laugh escaped Helga as she recalled the moment I was referencing. "You'd never asked me that before. It was a stupid question."

"Not really," I countered while adjusting from where I knelt on the pavement; my knee suddenly telling me that I'd chosen the wrong time to begin kneeling. Unfortunately, it was definitely too late now to get back up, so I instead took a deep breath to calm my angry kneecap and proceeded with my story. "It's funny because the memories that I have of you and things you've done or random conversations and moments we've shared… they're different than your memories."

"How do you figure?" Helga pressed and I knitted my brows together while trying to find the most effective way to explain my thoughts.

"You have a whole other set of memories that I don't remember because, at the time, they didn't mean anything to me yet. Just like some of my memories don't align with yours because they weren't as significant to you as they were to me in that moment." I took in a sharp breath before finalizing, "A lot of your memories are different because you've known about us a lot longer than I ever did."

"Long before there even was an us, you dingus," Helga chuckled out, and I rolled my eyes at her comment.

"Anyway," I emphasized before pressing onward. "You told me all about that day, that day back at Urban Tots when we apparently first met—a memory I had never actively remembered but suddenly did as you told your side of the story. It was one of the first times you broke down that wall, completely destroyed it to bare your soul to me without insults or nicknames or jokes to cover up the raw truth. You told me about what happened before you got to the pre-school, about Olga and your parents and the rain and your lunch and-and…"

I had to stop myself because the rambling had begun to rear its ugly head. Taking a moment to collect myself, I inhaled deeply before re-routing my conversational direction so I could get back on track with the task at hand.

"I never forgot that story," I admitted while looking down at the ring box I was still playing with in my grip. "You went back to the casual bullying and nicknames, both of us knowing how we felt about each other, but I never forgot that story. Each night I'd lay in my bed staring up through the skylight at the stars and imagine that memory I'd forgotten over and over again. Your pink overalls covered in mud. That sad look in your eye. It was like you'd never been loved… like you didn't know what it meant to be loved or to love another person."

Helga chewed on her lip for a moment as though trying to find the right thing to say—something she didn't typically struggle with. After a moment, she settled on, "What's your point. Aren't proposals supposed to be romantic or something? Not some… excuse to go drudging up my messed-up past and all of the memories that I've worked really hard to forget—"

"I know, I know," I tried to subdue her before she could indulge any further in the anger that was rapidly bubbling up inside of her. "What I am saying, is that the little girl who stood right here all of those years ago… that unloved toddler is gone now, Helga. She's long gone, okay?"

Her deep azure gaze bore into me as I kept talking; my knee now completely numbed from any pain or feeling as my body began to follow suit from nervousness alone. "The woman who stands before me isstill the same feisty, stubborn, thoughtful, smart, talented… and amazing person she has always been, but unloved?" I shook my head a couple of times. "That girl from long ago and the woman of now and forevermore is not unloved. She never will be or feel unloved, ever again. And that's something that I can and do promise you."

With that, I at last presented the box and carefully opened it to reveal a golden engagement ring with an opal at its center. Surrounding the stone was a halo of small diamonds; the ring itself appearing as the most dazzling of flowers attached to a plain gold band. The ring sparkled effortlessly under the glow of the moonlight, though the sky threatened its romantic lighting with oncoming and fast-moving storm clouds.

As Helga's eyes went back and forth between the ring and myself, I kept talking; the next set of words something I had always planned to say no matter where I ended up proposing. "Helga G. Pataki, you have been my bully for as long as I can remember. You teased me relentlessly and never stopped giving me attention, no matter how much I thought I didn't want it. You confessed to me time after time that you loved me and yet, even after all of this time, I've never confessed how I feel to you—at least, not entirely. So, I guess… well… here goes."

Nodding her head for me to keep going, she pressed her lips together in a tight line as though trying to hold back the tears I could see pooling in her eyes.

"I love you. I'm head over heels, wildly, desperately, endlessly in love with you, Helga," my words were earnest; genuine. Each sentence I said with the utmost care and sincerity. "I don't just want to have you in my life, I need you in my life. I need your nicknames, your teasing, your each and every thought, your embrace… your everything because you are my everything. And this ring—" I took it out of its box and held out the specifically-chosen engagement ring for her approval, "—I chose it for a reason."

"The opal," I said while using my other hand to point to the main stone, "it's iridescent. It looks like one color, but it never really ever stays that way. It changes and evolves and looks different under whatever light is shining on it—and yet it always somehow stays the same. And that's us. That's our love. We've always loved each other. It may have looked different as we grew, but it's always been there. And if you marry me… I promise that it will always continue to be there."

Swallowing hard, Helga let out a tidbit of her own, "I thought opals had to do with love and passion," she paused for a moment before adding, "and desire. Seduction. Are you trying to get in my pants, Shortman?"

"Always," I admitted which made Helga giggle; a few stray tears jiggling loose from her laughter. "But yes, those are the other reasons why I picked it. Every time you look down at this stone, you will know that I love you. That I desire you and to be with you. That I want you passionately in every meaning and interpretation of the word. That I will be faithful, and loyal until my very last breath. With this ring… I promise that you will never, ever, ever spend another second of your life being a muddy little girl who doesn't know what love is. I will spend every moment of my life proving to you and showing you and making up for all of those times when you needed love and didn't have it."

The two of us stared at each other as I held the ring out towards her, my arm growing more tired with each second that passed. Our eyes remained locked on one another as eons, and decades, and lifetimes seemed to happen while I agonized over her answer. Why wasn't she saying yes? I'd shown her the ring… she knew what I was doing… so why hadn't she accepted yet? Was she not going to accept? Worry fluttered through my mind as a sudden thought filled my senses, What if she doesn't want to get married?

As I lost myself in my thoughts, the clearing of Helga's throat brought me back to reality; her eyes no longer wet with tears and instead looking down at me skeptically. "Hey Arnold?" She asked me and I blinked my eyes a couple of times to refocus my attention on the current moment. "I'd love to say 'yes' here and put on this super sexy and seductive ring you've so thoughtfully picked out for me—"

"Well, my mom helped…"

"Of course Stella did," Helga affirmed with a smirk before sucking in a deep breath of air. "But the whole point of a marriage proposal, as nice as your words were and all… well, you kind of left out one very, very important part."

"…huh?" was all I could manage as I stared up at her in horror.

A sly smile spread across Helga's face. "You haven't actually asked me anything yet."

"Oh god," I mumbled while shutting my eyes in utter embarrassment. "Oh, god, I just… I got so caught up in all of this and then I kneeled way too early—"

"I know!" Helga exclaimed in amusement. "Your knee must be killing you right now."

"Eh," I quickly dismissed, "I stopped having feeling in my kneecap about a minute in so you might need to help me up—"

"Because you're an old man, now. Yeah, I know," Helga teased before sighing and tilting her head slightly. "You're only getting older the longer you wait, Footballhead."

"Yeah. Yes, of course. Right. Okay," pushing through the numbness of my knee and the nervousness I still felt for no reason at all, I held the ring out once again and looked deep into Helga's ocean blue eyes. "Helga G. Pataki. Will you marry me?"

Her smile widened to reveal a toothy grin. "Criminy, Arnold. I thought you'd never ask."

As I slipped the ring onto its new home of Helga's finger, she helped to yank me up from where I'd potentially done permanent damage to my left knee.

I didn't even care.

From where the two of us kissed under the moonlight at what remained of Urban Tots Pre-School, I knew that the Helga and Arnold who had once occupied this exact spot years ago were long gone. And as the sky at last opened up, allowing buckets of rain to downpour on us, we laughed while getting soaked to the bone because this time, the rain itself didn't matter.

The only umbrella Helga needed was one made entirely of love. And, just like when we were mere toddlers, I was happy to provide it for her. Not only in the rain, but through every storm we may weather and every warm day that is enjoyed safely under the shade.

For Helga, I was prepared to hold that umbrella over her for the rest of our lives.

And I couldn't wait.

[meli-productions]

It’s A Date

Shortaki Week Day 7: Dance

Also on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25583053/chapters/62299228

The April Fool’s Dance had become a Hillwood schools staple regardless of the affairs that went down in its initial year.

Every year, Eugene and Rhonda would organize the dance to be just as prank-filled, but, as Rhonda would put it, ‘Shortaki shenanigan proof’. The first year, the two of them glanced at each other and blushed, blaming each other for such a christening.

Then every year after, it was just a matter of acceptance and keeping as far away from each other as they could during the course of the event.

This year, the year after their eventful and successful escapade to San Lorenzo, was gonna be a little different.

“So…who are you going to the dance with, girls?” Rhonda asked the crowd of the girls during recess. When they all glanced at her, blinking with confusion or wonder, she sighed, “We’re sixth graders now. We need a date. I, of course, will make sure to be asked by someone fantastically cool.”

The rest of the girls just shared a look, both worried and thoughtful because, for once, Rhonda was making sense.

Rhonda hmmed, “And so I ask again, who are you going to the dance with?” 

And with a finality in her tone, Rhonda set off a wave of panic through the playground. A broken dam of crackling voiced boys coming up to eligible girls and asking them to the dance before they were taken away. Girls who would primp and preen hoping to be swept up and not be left in the metaphorical dust.

Some were easy pairings without much of an ask to the name - Gerald who with a nudge and a whisper into Phoebe’s ear had gotten a nod, or Harold who nervously sidled up to Patty that rolled her eyes and muttered a quiet ‘duh’.

Some were back and forths - Curly begging Rhonda to accept as she went from Lorenzo, to Peapod Kid, to anyone else that’d be willing to ask her before she accepted the pleads from the persistent suitor. 

And, of course, there was everyone’s favorite mystery. 

There was something making Arnold jumpy and it was starting to make Helga nervous, too. The two had met near the pier for their usual walk - away from the nosy prying eyes of their classmates. Phoebe and Gerald would be sure to dissuade any rumors of their whereabouts while the two enjoyed time together.

It was usually a relaxing moment, a time when their fingers could be allowed to twine together and their shoulders could bump in a friendlier way than when they were in the hallways of school. Sure, they were getting along a lot better in public - but this was a time where every wall could crumble and they could be their true selves. 

But today, there was a nervousness in Arnold’s posture, in the way his hands were wringing and refusing to even close the gap between the two of them. 

Alarms rang in Helga’s head and the snide voices that sounded too much like that of her father chimed in and said that this was it, that it had been fun while it lasted but that he no longer could pretend to like her - that it had just been a long-term thank you for saving his parents. 

“Arnold?” she asked, the cold hand of acceptance squeezing her throat. “I, um, couldn’t help but notice that you’re a little nervous.” 

The red that dashed across his face deepened, “I’ve been thinking - ”

Here it comes.

“Do you - do you think it’s too soon, or, I mean too much for us to - to go to the April Fool’s Dance together,” said Arnold, hand nervously scratching at the back of his neck. “I mean, we don’t have to go - or go together, I mean, we’ll probably go together anyway since Phoebe and -”

“Arnold,” Helga said, stopping him mid-rant. “Is that why you’ve been so nervous? Because of what Rhonda said?”

He gave her a wry grin and nodded. Then she laughed, straight from the belly, until she was bent over with the effort.

“Oh, Football Head, why didn’t you just talk to me?” she asked, between peals of laughter. “Besides, we’ve been ahead of the curve - we’ve already gone to dances as each other’s dates, heck, we’ve already kissed…multiple times. We don’t have to go together just because Rhondaloid wants us to act like grown-ups since we’re in ‘sixth-grade now’.”

Arnold looked pensive, a slow smile inching up his face, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“The real question is,” said Helga, straightening up now with a more serious glint in her blue eyes. “Do you want to go to the dance together?”

“Of course I do,” he said. “Do - do you?”

A laugh escaped, “Doi, Football Head - you still owe me from dumping me in the pool. Maybe this time we can tango for real. Who knows how it’ll end this time?”

Another blush graced the boy’s freckled face, “Then - it’s a date?”

“It’s a date.”

[sillygurl1021]

Chapters: 1/8 Fandom: Hey Arnold! Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Helga Pataki/Arnold Shortman, Helga Pataki & Arnold Shortman, Phoebe Heyerdahl/Gerald Johanssen, Harold Berman/Rhonda Wellington Lloyd Characters: Arnold Shortman, Helga Pataki, Phoebe Heyerdahl, Gerald Johanssen, Harold Berman, Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, Lila Sawyer, Sid (Hey Arnold!), Stinky Peterson, Eugene Horowitz, Nadine (Hey Arnold!) Additional Tags: Shortaki Week 2020, Shortaki Week, some foul language, Some ooo lala scenes, Arnold being assertive, flirting it up, Teenagers Summary:

This is a series of short stories following the prompts of Shortaki Week 2020!

These shorts will follow each other. The first three are of Arnold while the three after are of Helga's. The final two are of both together. In these they are 16 years old but everything had still happened before that, minus TJM!

An AU where Arnold slowly figures out how much an effect Helga Pataki has had on him through the years, not just now. He notices how shes driving him crazy, not just from the bullying but from the new feelings she is having him hold.

Read on Shortaki Week to find out what happens to them!

I hope you enjoy!

[shortakiweek]

Shortaki Week 2022 Announcement!

Welcome everyone! It’s 2022 and time for another Shortaki Week!  We had amazingly successful campaigns in 2016, 2017 and 2020; and it’s high time we get back to it!  

Round 4 of Shortaki Week will be held from June 26th - July 3rd 2022! It’s our week long festival designed to celebrate Helga/Arnold by inspiring some gorgeous new fanworks in our beloved community!

Participating is easy! Simply choose a prompt, create something for said prompt, and post your creation to tumblr (using the #shortakiweek tag (make sure it’s included in the first 5 tags!)) on the day designated to the prompt. Creators can choose as many prompts and submit as many works as they’d like! There are absolutely no limitations here!  Once your work(s) have been posted/cross-posted to tumblr they’ll be re-blogged to our community!  

Day 1 - Muse / Trance / Baby Steps

Day 2 - Playground / Nightmares / Vulnerable

Day 3 - Nobility / Camping / Transparency

Day 4 - Vacation / Wrinkles / Spotlight

Day 5 - Pen / True Love’s Kiss / Dessert

Day 6 - Disguise / Flood / Ghosts

Day 7 - Lighthouse / Breathing / Escape

Day 8 - Creator’s Choice!

We encourage everyone who loves Helga and Arnold to participate and will be accepting a wide range of fanworks so no one feels excluded!

Do make sure to READ THE RULES before anything! If you have any questions or suggestions, message us here!

Also, please spread the word, folks! Let’s make the 4th Shortaki Week a great one!

[jupiterlor]

For Shortaki Week 2020!! Woo!! First time participating.  Day 1: Masks Arnold felt himself being watched. He glances around the large ballroom, decorated with warm hanging lights and soft flowing drapery. It was a cool summer night, and he felt the breeze waft through the open bay doors. A scent catches the wind. It smells of lavender and vanilla. He knew this smell, form long ago, a Valentines he would never forget. A women that haunted him in his sleep.  A feeling on anticipation welled up in his stomach. He had to find the source of this smell. Could it possibly be her? He catches a glimpse of lemon colored hair. A  woman is standing nearby, pink dress hugging her curves, staring in his direction. As Arnold approaches her, he notices that smell, lavender and vanilla. Her smell. What was it about that bow?

[melfidraws]

Shortaki week 2020 day 3

Prompt: Satellite / Heroes / Twilight

Can we sit here for a minute and watch the sky?

[samypama]

Day 3 twilight

For shortaki week 2020

What can I say. For me shortaki week it’s not over yet.

[veganmamaroo]

Shortaki Week 2020: Day 5 - Pinky Swear

What happens when Gerald and Helga have to do their Uniquely You project together? Hint: it leads to good old-fashioned Shortaki goodness! It’s set right before the Season 2 episode “Best Friends.”

Also on FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13657713/1/Shortaki-Week-2020-Day-5-Pinky-Swear

Title: Pinky Swear

Word Count: 10k

This fic is set right before the Season 2 episode “Best Friends,” where Arnold does a Uniquely You presentation with Rhonda and Nadine, and also plays the middle man in helping the two friends reconcile.

 In the episode, there is a quick passing conversation between Arnold and Gerald that goes something like this:

 Gerald: Glad my presentation is over. Being “Uniquely You” with Helga? Man, that was humiliating!

 Arnold: Yeah, it was. I’m glad I got Rhonda and Nadine as partners. They always get along.

 This fic is about Gerald and Helga’s presentation. How does this glossed-over presentation fit into Day 5 topic of “Pinky Promise” in Shortaki Week 2020? Read on to find out!

  ________________________________________________________________

 The final bell rang, and it couldn’t come soon enough. It was Friday afternoon, and Helga had had quite enough of P.S. 118’s nonsense for the week. She couldn’t wait to get home, throw off her shoes, prep for the Wrestlemania episode airing that night, and pig out on pizza and pork rinds.

 “Hey Helga!” She heard a voice call out from behind her. Her signature stomp down the hall came to a stop, and she growled to herself in anger. She knew exactly who it was, and what that person wanted to discuss. She really didn’t want to talk about it now, but knowing how stubborn he was, he was going to get what he wanted. Fine. But that doesn’t mean she wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

 She turned around with a threatening, “What?!” to see a reluctant, and seemingly exhausted, Gerald walking toward her. As he got closer to her, he rolled his eyes and said, “Come on, Helga. You know what we have to do. Let’s just get this over with.” His eyes were slightly pleading for her compliance.

 She outwardly scowled at him, but inwardly, she took a moment to observe the situation. He seemed just as miserable to be teamed up with her for this stupid Uniquely You project as she was with him. Okay, at least they had that in common. That, and they both had a deep place in their hearts for one utterly selfless, endearingly bold, loyally optimistic, compassionately warm football-headed love God. Not to mention their appreciation for sweet, rational, intelligent Phoebe.

 Sheesh, she had more in common with Tall Hair Boy than she thought.

 Maybe that’s why it was so hard to be around him.

 She rolled her eyes obnoxiously and sighed heavily, trying to display outright distaste of his presence. “FINE, Geraldo,” she sneered.

 Gerald looked like he was trying to keep his cool, but with Helga, civility was challenging. He crossed his arms defiantly and said, “So, do you want to meet at your house? Monday after school?”

 Helga suddenly felt her breath hitch and heard her heartbeat in her ears. Her thoughts went to the shrine of her beloved in her closet. She could picture it now: Gerald in her room, excusing himself to go to the bathroom, opening the closet door before she could stop him, his body becoming frozen in his shock, jaw to the floor, him starting to say, “What the...?”, the very fabric of her life quickly unraveling, the world exploding...

 Come on, Helga ol’ girl. Get it together. Come up with a quick excuse to avoid him coming over before he gets suspicious. “You can’t!” she said abruptly. Well, THAT was smooth.

 He didn’t seem to notice her panic. “And why not? You don’t have a little sister that derails everything.” He put his hands on his hips.

 “You can’t because... because... our bathroom is being renovated!” she blurted out, relieved that she was able to come up with something believable on the spot. Feeling more comfortable, she started settling into the lie. “There’s dust everywhere, noises going on until 8 in the evening, we’d have to share a bathroom with Big Bob... trust me. You don’t want to do it at my house.” She waited on bated breath, hoping he would buy it.

 Gerald sighed, his eyes weary. “Alright Pataki. Fine. My house it is. Monday after school. You can come around 6:00, after my family eats dinner.”

 Helga inwardly high-fived herself. Her secret of loving his best friend would live to see another day.

 Gerald continued, “But be warned. My sister is a pain. And my brother, well, he’s a pain, too. Hopefully they won’t distract us so we can get this all done in one evening.”

 Helga waved him off and said, “Yeah, yeah. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she began as she started walking away, turning around and walking backwards, “I have a date with Phoebe, Wrestlemania, and pepperoni pizza.” She turned back around and headed for the double doors that lead outside.

 Gerald’s demeanor lightened up immediately at the mention of Phoebe’s name. “Tell her I said hi!” he shouted after her.

 “Moron,” Helga uttered under her breath and she slammed her hands into the metal bar door handle, opening the door with a loud crash.

 Recalling the conversation, Gerald stood there, shaking his head with a small smile of disbelief. “Mmm mmm mmm! Doing a project with Helga Pataki. This is really going to suck,” he said to himself.

 ————

 Monday at 6:00pm, Helga was knocking at Gerald’s door. She felt a little flit of excitement in her stomach, knowing that she was about to be in a space that Arnold often occupied when they weren’t at school together. While in Gerald’s home, she planned on taking some mental notes of how Arnold spent his time there. She would relive those memories in her mind in front of the shrine later, she then decided.

 The door opened. Helga was expecting Gerald to open the door, so she was surprised that she had to look up higher to meet eyes with someone taller and older. Probably his older brother. “Yeah?” the teen answered.

 “Um, is Gerald home?”

 He grinned devilishly. “Yep. Hey, Gerald! Quit pooping and come to the door! Someone is here to see you!”

 Helga chuckled as Gerald appeared at the door in haste, trying to push his brother out of the way. “Jamie-O!” he said in a whiny voice that Helga had never heard from him before. “Seriously? I wasn’t pooping. I was helping Mom with the dishes.”

 “Sure, you were,” Jamie-O said as he grabbed Gerald, putting a wrestling move on him that left Gerald with a twisted arm, yelping in pain.

 Helga, thoroughly entertained by this exchange, couldn’t believe how great her short time at the Johansson house was playing out already. Here she was, seeing Gerald get knocked down a few pegs, without having to put forth any effort whatsoever. She liked his other brother already. With a laugh, she said, “Seriously, Gerald? You don’t know how to dodge an arm wrench to a vertical wrist lock? Man, what a wimp.”

 Jamie-O laughed at what Helga said, looking at her with an impressed expression. He let go of Gerald, with Gerald attempting to recover. Jamie-O said to her, “Hey, I like you! A friend that isn’t afraid to tell it like it is. Nice to meet you...” motioning toward her with an outstretched hand, asking for her name.

 She smiled proudly, accepted his outstretched hand with a firm handshake, and said, “Helga G. Pataki.”

 Gerald, still disgruntled and straightening out his shirt, butted in. “Ugh, of COURSE you two would get along.” Staring daggers at Jamie-O, he added, “And we’re NOT friends.” Not even looking at Helga or formally inviting her into the house, he turned around, started stomping up the stairs, and said, “Come on, Helga. Let’s start the stupid project.” Deciding not to push Gerald further, Jamie-O and Helga shared a humored wide-eyed grimace at each other before she entered the house and followed Gerald up the stairs in silence. While climbing the stairs, Gerald shouted over the banister, “Mom, I’m gonna be in my room with Helga doing our project!” Helga heard a faint, “Okay, sweetheart!” come from downstairs somewhere.

 As she ascended the staircase, she looked at the photos adorned on the adjacent wall. Photos of a happy family of five lined the wall, with a new photo to see every few steps. She would never admit it out loud, but she felt a pang of jealousy seeing Gerald in photos with his family. Despite Jamie-O being a jerk to Gerald, the home reeked of love and closeness, a stark and obvious difference from her own home.

 She followed him into his room. As she walked in, she felt like she knew this place. She realized it felt so familiar because it very much reflected the personality of its occupant: bold colors and posters of celebrities, athletes, and characters she overheard him yammering on about when she was eavesdropping on his and Arnold’s conversations were all over the walls.

 Gerald threw himself on his bed face-up, clearly needing a moment to compose himself. With a sigh, he covered his eyes with his elbow and said, “Be glad you don’t have an older sibling.”

 Helga gave a small, knowing laugh. Since Gerald was basically a dog with a tail between his legs at the moment, her guard was down. She didn’t feel the need to give a retort or maintain her reputation, for the moment, anyway. She leveled with him instead. “I actually do have an older sibling, and she’s the worst.”

 Keeping his elbow up, he suddenly lifted his head and peered at her with surprised eyes. “Really?” he asked. “Why did I think you were an only child?”

 Helga shrugged her shoulders and started slowly pacing room, eyes on the many items on the walls. “She’s ten years older than me. She doesn’t even live at home anymore, but it’s absolute torture when she visits.” She stopped her pacing and returned eye contact with him. “Does your brother wrestle you like that often?”

 Gerald sighed, threw his head back on the bed, and returned the elbow over his eyes. “All. The. Time. And I hate wrestling, so I don’t know how to fight it. Man, I can’t even walk down the hall without his stupid surprise attacks.”

 An idea began to brew in Helga’s head. “I could teach you a few defensive moves to get him off your back,” she said casually.

 Gerald, surprised and eager, propped himself up with his elbows. “Really? You would do that?”

 With an air of power, returning back to her slow pace around his room, she said over her shoulder, “For a price.”

 “Of COURSE,” he spat, sitting up, with his legs dangling over the side of the bed. “And here I was, foolishly thinking that you were actually being nice for once.”

 Retort engaged. She spun around, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Hey, I can be NICE.” Realizing the irony of her stance, she put down her finger and relaxed her shoulders. “I’ll teach you some moves, and in exchange, we do this project my way, on my terms,” she said, pointing her thumb to her chest. “I choose the topic and how the presentation is going to go.”

 Gerald squinted his eyes with suspicion. “And what exactly would that look like?”

 Helga tried her best to suppress her evil grin. “The topic is wrestling, with me demonstrating some wrestling moves on you. Me in the dominant position, of course.”

 Gerald groaned. “See, I knew you couldn’t be nice. You’re going to make me look like a fool.” He attempted to reason with her. “Is there anything else you’re interested in? Anything besides wrestling?”

 Helga pondered that for a moment. What interests of hers would she feel comfortable putting on display for all her classmates to see? Ballet? No. Poetry? No. Her obsessive infatuation with Arnold? HECK NO.

 She returned from her thoughts to respond to him in a mockingly lighthearted tone. “Nope. We’re doing wrestling. Do we have a deal?”

 Gerald mulled it over for a second. He sighed with his eyes closed, as if he was about to say something he might regret. He looked at her. “It’s a deal as long as we do moves that keep me on my two feet. Nothing on the floor, and nothing in the air.”

 Helga nodded. “Fair enough. Deal.” She extended her hand to make it official, and Gerald met her hand. It was a solid, one-shake handshake. In a serious tone with a touch of smugness, she said, “Okay, let’s start with how pathetic it was that your brother got you in a wrist lock without even trying.”

 For the next 30 minutes, Helga showed Gerald some defensive moves. She asked Gerald which moves Jamie-O frequently put on him, and provided some ideas of how to break free from those holds. She even let Gerald practice the defensive moves on her, slowing down the pace step-by-step, allowing Gerald to get his feet wet with it. She took the lesson seriously, and felt that familiar passion she felt for her hobbies shine through. In fact, she realized that this was the first time she had ever practiced these moves on another human being, as no one in her social circle was into wrestling like she was. She was enjoying herself, with Gerald Johansson, of all people. He was listening fully and absorbing her lesson well.

 When he managed to escape Helga’s attempt to get him in a wrist lock, she looked at him with an impressed expression and said, “I think my work here is done.”

 Gerald smiled, obviously proud of himself. “Wow. That wasn’t so hard!” He stopped, realizing the shift between them. “Uh, thanks, Helga. That was... really cool of you to show me that.” He smiled to himself and said, “Now THERE’S something I never thought I’d say.”

 Helga confidently put her hands on her hips. “Like I said, I can be nice. For the right price.”

 “For the right price,” he echoed with a smirk. He went over to his mirror, checking his high-top fade, making sure his hair still looked fly after practicing wrestling moves for a half hour. Still looking at himself, he said, “I wish you could be that nice to Arnold.”

 Helga’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Arnold’s name. Recovering, she laughed and crossed her arms. “HA! Please. The ol’ Football Head deserves it.”

 “What?” Gerald spun around, shocked that she was using those words to describe his true-blue best friend. “Arnold is the nicest person there is. What does he do to deserve anything but kindness?”

 Helga froze. Her body felt the familiar sensations that always came with anyone going anywhere near her secret love for Arnold: tight throat, rapid heartbeat, stuttering, babbling, and shifty eyes. She tried to play it cool. “W-Well, y-you know, he’s... always butting into people’s business!” was the best thing she could come up with.

 He gave her a deadpanned expression. “To help them.”

 “Well, it’s annoying!”

 Gerald shook his head at her childish response. But suddenly, his face lit up, as if a lightbulb went off in his head. “For the right price... you’ll be nice...” he said quietly, half to himself, half to her.

 Relieved that Gerald distracted himself from prodding Helga’s intentions any further, she raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. What about it?”

 Gerald gave her an intense stare. “What if I asked you to be nice to Arnold for a week? What would I have to pay to make that happen?”

 Helga scoffed. “Why do you want me to be nice to a dopey little football head?”

 Gerald broke eye contact and starting pacing back and forth. “His birthday is next Monday. I’m strapped for cash, and I’ve been going crazy trying to think of what I could do for him. But this,” he said, as he slapped the back of his hand into his other palm, “THIS could really make his week.” He stopped pacing and looked at her. “So, name your price.”

 Helga tapped her chin in thought. She had a reputation to protect, and being nice to Arnold for a whole week could compromise that. Jeopardizing her reputation carried a hefty price tag.

 On the other hand, lending Arnold a kind hand for a week could benefit her, too. It could show Arnold that she’s more than a tormentor. She’s passionate, funny, witty, and intelligent. Who wouldn’t want a girl like that? This could be push she needed to make Arnold finally see that Helga G. Pataki was the perfect girl for him.

 She wouldn’t show her cards, though. She decided to play hard to get. “I’ll be nice to Arnold if you do my homework next week. That includes projects due next week, too.” She crossed her arms triumphantly, smirked, and did a quick eyebrow raise, as if to say “take that.”

 Gerald deflated. “You mean, I’d have to do your History of Hillwood essay due next Friday, too?” It was a demanding project. It required you to find someone who has lived in Hillwood over 30 years, interview them, and write a 3-page paper about how much things have changed over the years.

 “Yep,” she said, emphasizing the p sound at the end of the word. There’s no way he’ll take the bait, she thought.

 After a few moments, he relented. “You drive a hard bargain, Pataki, but I’ll take it.”

 She uncrossed her arms and her jaw hung open, surprised that he didn’t even try to negotiate terms with her. Wow, he must be desperate, she thought. What a sap!

 “Wow, really?” She said immediately out of shock. “I mean, alright, Geraldo. But we gotta set some boundaries here. I don’t want to be TOO nice. Can’t have Hair Boy falling in love with me or anything.” Reverse psychology. Can’t have him suspect anything.

 “Fat chance,” he said with a laugh.

 His response hurt, but there was no way in heck she’d ever let him see that. “For starters, I’m not going to go out of my way to be nice to him. If the opportunity presents itself, fine.”

 Gerald nodded. “Fine.”

 “And,” Helga continued, “he CANNOT know that we have this agreement.”

 “Wait, what?” Gerald said loudly. “But how else will he know what I’m getting him for his birthday?”

 “Ugh, do you need a pat on the back for your good deeds?” she asked in annoyance. She was no stranger to being charitable in the shadows, and it irked her that other people needed validation for their acts of kindness. “And do you know how mortifying it would be for the class to know that I was being nice to Arnold because you asked me to? NOBODY is going to know about this except you and me.” She pointed to him and then thumbed her chest.

 Gerald groaned. “Alright, alright.”

 Helga was insistent. “Promise me. No. PINKY SWEAR that this will never get out. If it does, Old Betsy will be paying you a visit, along with a surprise wrestling move that I KNOW you can’t defend yourself against.” She held out her pinky finger toward him.

 Gerald shot her an irritated expression at her verbal jab before extending his pinky finger, locking with hers for a beat. “Fine, I pinky swear.”

 Helga did a single nod and said, “Okay. Starting tomorrow, I’m going to be nice to Arnold. My last day will be next Monday, his birthday. That’s when you’ll begin doing my homework.”

 Gerald nodded in confirmation. “Right.”

 Helga was on her way out the door when she turned around and said, “Oh, and I’ll come up with the whole Uniquely You project. All you have to do is show up and be my warm body while I put you in a headlock in front of the whole class.” She smirked, gave a two-finger salute, and walked out of his room.

 Gerald sat with a deadpanned expression. “Mmm mmm mmm! How does Phoebe put UP with that chick?”

 ———

Tuesday

Tuesday morning arrived, and Helga decided to leave early and walk to school instead of taking the bus. She was feeling a little nervous and was trying to walk it off. She didn’t want to blow this. Being nice to Arnold was out of character for her, so she was going to have to spend the remainder of the week on her toes. Besides, Arnold usually took the bus to school, to she figured she could avoid him if she walked. In fact, that was basically her plan for the week: try to avoid Arnold as much as –

 “Oof!”

 “Ow!”

 She collided with something, or someone. That’s what you get for stressing so much and not paying attention. Get it together, Helga! Sheesh! She found herself on the ground, feeling discomfort in her chin and chest, where the brunt of the collision occurred. She shook her head, came to, and found her bearings.

 And there he was.

 On the ground, right in front of her.

 Those beautiful green eyes, brighter than normal in the light of the sun, staring wide-eyed at her, giving her his undivided attention. His unruly, yet incredibly sexy, blonde hair, a little more disheveled than usual after their collision. His shocked, yet concerned expression, which sent a shiver across her chest and down her arms like a small shock of electricity. Oh, my love. I have knocked you out of your reverie, distracted by whatever images conjured up that adorable little football head of yours, thoughts lucky enough to hold your attention to take you away from the present world around you. What I would give to be even a minuscule musing in your daydreams. Ooh.

 Her eyes panned slightly behind him to reveal Gerald, who had to have been walking alongside Arnold. Gerald stared at her with anticipation, not knowing what to expect come out of her mouth with their recent deal.

 She was on display. Okay. You got this, Helga ol’ girl. Just... be nice.

 Arnold spoke first, starting to stand up and dust himself off. “Helga, are you okay? I’m so sorry.” He extended his hand kindly, attempting to help her up.

 Normally, she’d scoff, ridicule his tendency to daydream, ignore his extended hand, and throw an insult his way before stomping off.

 Instead, she found her hand taking his. His hand was soft, and it even felt kind. She inwardly swooned as he quickly pulled her up. Her eyes flitted at Gerald for a beat before responding with, “That’s okay, Arnold. I’m sorry, too. I guess we were both a little distracted, huh?”

 His hand reached up to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess so.” His face suddenly showed realization, confusion. “Wait... what did you just call me?”

 Ha. He realized instantly that I didn’t call him a football-headed klutz for once. “Um, Arnold? That’s your name, isn’t it?”

 Out of Arnold’s field of vision, Gerald smiled smugly behind him and nodded his head at Helga in approval. He was loving this. She made every effort not to roll her eyes at him, let alone sock him in the face.

 Arnold just stared at her with wide eyes for a second. She honestly didn’t know how he was going to react to this change. Was he going to be in shock? Was he going to shrug his shoulders and move on? He surprised her by teasing her in a friendly manner. “Uh, yeah.” He chuckled to himself for a second. “I was starting to think you had forgotten it,” he said with a smirk, his eyes meeting hers.

 She rolled her eyes playfully. “Yeah, yeah. I know your name.” As she started to walk backwards toward their P.S. 118, she said lightheartedly, “Keep your head out of the clouds, would ya? You’re gonna poke an eye out.” Before turning around, she shot a quick eyebrow flash and smirk at Gerald as if to say, “Ha! Told you I could do it,” turned around, and let the two of them watch her walk away. She played it cool, but her heart was pounding.

 Behind her, she faintly heard Arnold say to Gerald, “What was that?” She heard Gerald respond with, “I don’t know, man.” She smiled to herself and inwardly giggled, picking up her pace to create some distance between them, exhilarated by the exchange she just had. She did it. She was nice to Arnold, and the world didn’t blow up.

 Don’t get ahead of yourself, bucko, a voice inside her head said. Being nice to him with no one else around but that doofy Tall Hair Boy, who is in on the secret, easy. Doing that in front of your dimwitted classmates? Might be a little harder to navigate.

 She decided to ignore her inner voice and revel in her elation, for once.

  ———

What do you even do with yourself if you’re not launching spit balls at the love of your life in class?

 She had to cut that ritual out of her life this week, as she knew that he hated her spitballs of fury/passion. She realized that, without busying her hands with tearing and rolling tiny bits of papers into spit balls, she felt awkward. As she listened to Granola Boy drone on and on about cruciferous vegetables, she tried drumming her fingers, twiddling her thumbs, and even braiding her hair. It all felt off.

 “Are you okay, Helga?” a meek whisper next to her said. It was Phoebe. Sheesh, was it that obvious?

 “Yeah, I, uh, am feeling a little jittery this morning, that’s all.”

 “Okay, Helga.” She went back to listening to Mr. Simmons’ lesson intently. Phoebe wasn’t the type to chat in the middle of a school lesson. She’d probably pry a little more during lunch. She imagined Phoebe trying to lead Helga in some hippie-dippy breathing exercise to calm her nerves. She smiled to herself. Her and Phoebe were like night and day sometimes.

 She found that the rapture she felt that morning from her exchange with Arnold was fading fast. Without her throwing spitballs at him, he didn’t have a reason to turn around and look at her. And he didn’t.

 She was eager for lunch to start so she could get her mind off Arnold and those gorgeous tufts of blonde, spitball-free hair of his.

 ———

The lunch bell rang. Arnold was having a good day. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but for whatever reason, he felt really focused. He listened to Mr. Simmons’ entire lesson on cruciferous vegetables with unanticipated enthusiasm. He had to admit that it made him want to reach for some broccoli at lunch time today.

 Out of unconscious habit, he tipped his head downward and started shaking his thick hair with his hands. When he looked down at the floor, it dawned on him that something was amiss. The floor beneath him was clean. Wait... where are the spitballs? he finally realized. He sat up and looked around his seat, wondering if it was in a different area. Nope. The floor all around him was free of spitballs. He ran his fingers through his hair one more time.

 “Did you drop something?” Gerald asked, bringing Arnold out of his thoughts.

 Arnold looked up. Behind Gerald, Arnold’s eyes fell on Helga, who was on her way out of the classroom. He hoped that she would make eye contact with him, which could give him some sort of clue as to why she didn’t pelt him with spitballs today. However, she didn’t even look at him. She left the room. Arnold sat there, bewildered.

 Remembering that Gerald asked him something, he responded, “No, I guess not,” distantly. He got up out of his desk, and the two headed for lunch.

 ——-

 Helga grabbed her tray and started dragging it across the lunch line table. She was in a deep debate with Phoebe, who was standing in front of her, about why it would be much better to be 50 feet tall than 50 millimeters tall when the tapioca pudding caught her eye. It was the last one. As she went to reach for it, she bumped hands with the person behind her who was also reaching for it.

 “Oh, sorry, Helga. You’re in front of me. You take it.” It was Arnold. Her heart began to beat faster upon hearing his sweet, tender voice say her name. Man, why does he DO this to me?

 Her thoughts went back to the last time this happened. She had ended up purposely spilling the pudding all over his shirt. She and all her classmates laughed at him while he frowned and headed to the bathroom to clean up.

 She winced at the memory. That was a crummy thing to do to her beloved Football Head.

 Here was a chance at redemption.

 She took the tapioca pudding in her hands and, faking him out, placed it on his plate for him. “Nah, that’s okay. It’s yours,” she said.

 He looked up at her. “Really? Are you sure?”

 Such a naive little twerp, she thought affectionately. Never change, my love.

 “Yeah, I’m sure,” she said. “I ate way too many pork rinds this weekend, anyway. Still trying to balance myself out. Maybe I should listen to Simmons and get myself some watered-down cauliflower.” You sure are chatty when you’re being nice, her inner voice noticed, leaving Helga to feel sheepish.

 Arnold laughed, making her heart flutter and her inward embarrassment dissipate. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” He paused for a beat. “Thanks, Helga. That was nice of you.”

 “Don’t mention it,” she said, as she paid for her food and quickly left before the awkward silence settled in.

 Phoebe was waiting for her, tray in her hands. As they walked to find a seat, she said, “That was nice of you to give Arnold the tapioca pudding.”

 “I SAID not to mention it, Pheebs,” Helga shot back.

 “Unmentioning!” Phoebe sang, without skipping a beat, as they sat down.

 Helga reflected on her second encounter with Arnold that day. He thanked her. And he laughed at something she said. This was the best day she’s had in a long time.

  ——

 The rest of the day went without a hitch. She found a new way to channel her energy away from making spitballs in class: doodling little football heads in her notebook. It was a lateral move, but hey, at least it didn’t infuriate poor Arnold and stayed within the guidelines of the deal with Gerald.

 As originally planned, she tried to avoid Arnold as much as possible in an attempt to avoid tarnishing her reputation or making a fool out of herself. She didn’t have contact with him for the rest of the day.

 After the final bell rang, she was walking down the steps of school on her way to the bus when she heard a, “Hey, Helga! Wait up!” She turned around and saw Gerald in the near distance, approaching her. She did a quick scope of the landscape to see if the coast was clear of Arnold before saying, “What do you want?”

 Gerald seemed to be in the lookout, too. “I’m gonna make this quick. I told Arnold I needed to talk with you about the project. He’ll be walking outside any minute.”  Helga impatiently crossed her arms as Gerald did a quick look behind him before lowering his voice in an enthusiastic whisper, “You were great today! Seriously! It was totally believable. And get this: he definitely had a good day. My plan is working! Just keep doing what you’re doing and your homework is good as done for next week.”

 Helga would never admit this out loud to Geraldo, but she appreciated the confirmation that his best friend had a great day. Instead, she said with a wave of her hand, “Well, doi. Of course I was great.”

 “At least you’re modest about it,” Gerald said sarcastically as Helga looked behind him to see Arnold and Sid leaving the building together in the distance. Helga did a nod in Arnold’s direction to show Gerald that his friend was coming. “See you tomorrow, Tall Hair Boy.”

 “Bye, Helga.”

 Helga didn’t stick around long enough for Arnold to approach. She turned around and started walking home. He had a good day! Because of ME!, she swooned. She engulfed herself in loving thoughts of him as she walked home.

 ——

 Wednesday

 It was halfway through the morning. Helga had her head resting on her hand lazily as she doodled. Helga’s distraction doodles evolved from scattered Football Heads to now a full picture of a scene with hidden Football Heads sprinkled throughout. 

 She casually looked up and caught Arnold staring at her.

 She shut her notebook immediately, out of fear that he had seen what she had been drawing. It was a silly knee-jerk reaction; he was too far away to see her notebook. Her heart began beating harder, and her eyes had to readjust to the rush of adrenaline she felt from his sudden attention.

 This was no accident. He was turned around in his seat, staring at her with a confused expression. His hand resting on the back of his chair flipped upward, as if to say, “What gives?”

 He wants to know why his head isn’t the target of my hostility anymore, she thought with an inward giggle. She played dumb... well, sort of. She responded with an exaggerated, yet sarcastic expression that said, “What ever do you mean, Arnold?” 

 “Arnold, whatever conversation you’re having can wait until the bell rings,” Mr. Simmons kindly informed Arnold, making him spin around and face forward once again.

 “Sorry, Mr. Simmons.”

 Helga smiled, still flying high off of his acknowledgement. 

 ———

 At recess, Helga sat with Phoebe at the picnic table in the sun. It was beautiful out, seasonably warm for October. Helga was leaning against the table, face toward the sun with her eyes closed, as if she were sunbathing. Phoebe was reading a novel she couldn’t put down.

 “Hey, uh, Helga?” 

 Helga cooly blinked one eye open. It was Arnold, sweetly standing there like the perfect specimen he was. After he had initiated a silent conversation in class, she had expected him to come talk to her face-to-face today. She was prepared with an excuse and everything.

 “Yeah?”

 Phoebe, engrossed in her book, scooted down the bench and turned her back to the conversation without even looking up. She didn’t want to be disturbed during the climax of the story.

 Arnold sat down next to Helga. “You haven’t launched any spitballs at my head this week.”

 “It was that obvious, huh?”

 “It’s kind of hard not to notice,” he said with a smile. “It’s been... nice.”

 “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it, bucko,” she said, lightly elbowing his arm. “The custodian must have found my straw and thrown it away. One of these days, I’ll remember to bring one back to class,” she lied.

 She felt the urge to continue talking. She didn’t know why, but acting nice opened the verbal floodgates. “To be honest, it’s been hard for me to focus in class without it,” she said with a chuckle. “As it turns out, ripping up tiny bits of paper occupies my twitchy fingers while Simmons drones on and on.”

 “That’s why I sit up in front. It forces you to listen. You know how I am. Always daydreaming.”

 “Yeah, I know. We all know. It’s entertaining for all of us when you get caught,” Helga laughed.

 “Hey!” he said with a smile, pretending to act offended.

 “Well, it’s true! It’s kind of your thing.”

 “My thing?” 

 “Yes, your thing. One of your things, anyway.” Her open hand gestured toward the playground. “Every single one of us on this playground has snapped you out of a daydream at least once.”

 Arnold looked around at the playground. “Wow, you’re right. I’ve never thought of it that way before.” He paused, and with a sideways glance, he asked, “What’s another “thing” of mine?”

 “Being blindly optimistic,” she answered casually, without missing a beat.

 Arnold rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Wow. You’ve got me pegged. I guess that’s also my thing.”

 “They’re good things to be, you know.”

 Arnold looked at her. “You think so?”

 “Don’t get me wrong. They’re annoying qualities. But good ones,” she offered. They allowed her backhanded compliment to hang in the air for a moment. “Just be thankful your thing isn’t being fat, dumb, and pink, like Harold.”

 “Helga...”

 “I’m just saying!”

 There was a brief moment of silence before Arnold spoke. “You know, you have some good “things,” too.”

 “I-I do?” asked Helga, eyes wide, her walls being torn down. She was genuinely taken by surprise. He offered up that statement unprovoked.

 “Well, sure. You’re smart. You’re funny. And deep down, I think you’re nice. I think you just choose not to show it.”

 Helga sat in silence, staring into her hands. The silence was extremely uncomfortable for her. She felt exposed. She hated feeling exposed. On any other day, she would’ve snapped at him or called him a name to move on from the awkwardness. However, her competitiveness wasn’t going to let Gerald win this, so she was going to have to handle this without her tough exterior.

 She didn’t know what to say. Unable to tear her mind from the discomfort, she finally responded. “Well, maybe you’ve got me pegged, too.”

 Their eyes met. Helga’s eyes approached his with her vulnerability. Arnold’s eyes approached hers with kindness and reassurance.

 The bell rang, breaking their gaze.

 The two were then distracted by their previously silent bench mate. Phoebe shut her book in triumph with finality, tilting her head back, and breathed out a relieved and elated sigh. “Done,” she said out loud. She realized she was being watched. Snapping out of her trance, she peered over to see Arnold and Helga both staring at her, confused.

 She shrugged awkwardly. “What? It was a good one.”

 Arnold’s eyes met Helga’s one more time for a brief moment before Helga said, “Come on, Pheebs. Let’s go. You can give me a one-minute summary of the book on our way back to class.”

 “Coming!” Phoebe answered. Excited to share her story, she started sharing highlights of the book.

 While Phoebe chattered away, Helga was completely tuning her out with thoughts of her beloved. He gets me, she reflected. And he had nice things to say about me, even after all of the misery I’ve put him through. Oh, I adore you, my blindly optimistic, daydreaming football-headed Love God.

 “Uh, Helga?”

 “Yeah, Pheebs?”

 “… correct me if I’m wrong, but you and Arnold… back there… were you talking?”

 ________

  When school ended, Arnold and Gerald left the building of P.S.118. Arnold breathed in a lung full of fresh, outdoor air… well, as fresh as Hillwood air could get, anyway. It was beautiful out. It was always nice outside around his birthday.

 “Hey Gerald, do you want to walk home today? It’s really nice out.”

 Gerald shook his head regrettably. “I know, man, it is. But I’ve gotta get started on that History of Hillwood project. I’m interviewing Mrs. Vitello in about 30 minutes. I’m gonna take the bus. You comin’?”

 With a tinge of disappointment, Arnold obliged. “Yeah, I’ll ride with you.”

 “Man, you are so lucky that you live with someone who has lived in Hillwood for 80 years! This project is in the bag for you.”

 Arnold laughed. “Yeah, it was really easy. I finished my project weeks ago. Every day is History of Hillwood at the boarding house.”

 Arnold looked off at the path he would have taken had he decided to walk. His eyes fell on Helga, who was walking alone. It looks like Helga thought it was nice out, too, he thought.

 While still looking at Helga, Arnold asked, “Have you noticed that Helga has been acting different this week?”

 “Different how?”

 “She’s been… well, nice.”

 Gerald looked at him incredulously. “Helga G. Pataki?” he asked. Emphasizing each word of her name. “Nice? You should see what she has planned for our Uniquely You presentation. You won’t think she’s so nice then.”

 “I’m serious, Gerald! She hasn’t even called me Football Head this week!”

 “Whatever you say, Arnold. Whatever you say,” Gerald said dismissively. Arnold didn’t push the conversation further. He knew his best friend, and that was one of Gerald’s ways of ending a conversation with him politely. He didn’t expect Gerald to understand, anyway. He had zero interest in getting to know Helga on a deeper level. Those two were like oil and water.

 Unlike Gerald, Arnold found her fascinating. Her bullying was maddening sometimes, but there were moments, very brief moments, when she would peel back a layer and reveal a tender, caring side of her. He wished he could learn more, but Helga didn’t work that way. It helped to catch her on good days.

 As Arnold climbed onto the bus behind his friend, he hoped that Helga’s life was going well enough to bring out this more considerate side to her.

 _______

 Thursday

 Arnold sat at the lunch table with Gerald, Sid, Stinky, and Harold that day. Sitting with those three was always… entertaining, could be a kind word to describe it. Sid and Stinky had bet Harold that they could make him laugh while he chugged his whole carton of milk. Harold, unable to back down from a food-related challenge, confidently accepted. Mid-chug, Sid and Stinky started making fart noises with their armpits, leading Harold to spray milk everywhere. Harold tried to balance his laughter and the milk streaming out of his nose. With deadpan expressions, Arnold and Gerald wiped sprayed milk off of their faces while Sid and Stinky high-fived each other in celebration.

 After the moment died down, Sid asked the group, “Oh hey, do you guys think we can delay our baseball game today after school? I need to pick up something from the store from my mom, and the store closes at 4:00. I was thinking we could meet at 4 today instead of 3.”

 All the boys nodded their heads. Gerald added, “We’re all okay with it. It’s Helga you need to convince.”

 “Oh, right. I forgot.” Sid’s posture started to wilt. “Boy howdy, I really don’t want to ask her. She’s going to freak.”

 “I don’t know, Sid,” Arnold said, unconvinced. “Helga’s been a lot nicer this week. She might handle it well today.”

 Sid, Stinky, and Harold stopped and looked at Arnold with stunned expressions. Gerald froze, eyes shifting back and forth between the boys and Arnold.

 “Are you kidding?” Sid asked rhetorically.

 “What are you talking about, Arnold?” Stinky added. “She’s been a regular armchair critic this week. Come to think of it, that’s how she is every week.”

 “Remember when called me fat in front of the whole class when Simmons caught me eating that Mr. Fudgy bar during math earlier?” Harold cried. He crossed his arms, and under his breath, grumbled, “Madame Fortress Mommy…”

 “Wait…” Arnold said, holding his hand up, trying to process. “Helga has been… normal to all of you all week?”

 The boys gave each other puzzled looks. “Arnold, are you okay?” Sid asked.

 Interrupting the interrogation, Gerald quickly got up from his chair, stood behind Arnold, and put his hands on Arnold’s shoulders. “Arnold, I think you need to be the one to ask Helga to postpone the game today. Clearly, you’ve got the magic touch this week, my man.”

 “Me?” Arnold asked. He looked at his friends. They all were nodding their heads rapidly, all seemingly trying to avoid Helga Pataki’s wrath.

 Arnold got up and the crumbs off his shirt. “Alright, I guess so. Here goes,” he said, scanning the cafeteria.

 He spotted her getting up out of her chair to throw her food away. He began to follow her. She didn’t seem to notice him at first. Not wanting to startle her, he waited for her to throw her food away before getting her attention.

 “Hey, Helga.”

 She yelped and did a startled jump. Oops, so much for not startling her. Once she realized it was him, she yelled. “Criminy, Football Head! Why do you have to sneak up on me all the time? Sheesh!”

 Arnold looked back to his friends at the lunch table. They were watching him with grimaces on their faces.

 “I mean,” Helga said, in a much calmer voice this time, causing Arnold to turn back to her, “you, uh, scared me, A-Arnold. What do you want?”

 Arnold rubbed the back of his neck with his hands and down at the floor for a moment. “Sorry, Helga. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He looked back up at her. “I just wanted to see if you were still playing baseball this afternoon.”

 Helga squinted her eyes in confusion. “Yeah. Every Thursday at 3 at Gerald Field.”

 “Right,” Arnold confirmed. “It’s just that, well, Sid is busy doing something at that time, and he wants to know if you –”

 “Arnold?” she interrupted.

 “Yeah?” he asked, half expecting her to confirm his friends’ concerns and start flipping out on him.

 “Can we move away from this trash can?” she started to wave her hand in front of her face. “It smells like something died in there. Literally.”

 Relieved, Arnold responded. “Oh, right. Sorry. I guess the trash can isn’t the best place to start a conversation, huh?” He took a few steps to the left.

 Helga followed him, plugging her nose. “Seriously, what IS that smell?”

 They heard Curly’s maniacal laughter coming from the nearby air vent.

 “Twisted little freak…” Helga mumbled as she caught up with Arnold.

 “Anyway,” Arnold continued, “Can we postpone the game until 4:00?”

 Helga put her hand on her chin in thought. After a moment, she shrugged her shoulders and said simply, “Okay.”

 “Really?” Arnold asked in surprise. “Thanks, Helga! Sid will be so relieved.”

 Helga squinted her eyes in suspicion. “Did that little twerp send you over here?”

 Arnold’s eyes shifted to the left, “Uh…”

 “Don’t bother lying, Football Head. You’re a terrible liar.” Arnold looked at her with rigid eyes. “Well, it’s true! Another of your “things”,” she added with a smirk, in an attempt to lighten the conversation a little bit. It worked. Arnold looked down and smiled to himself.

 “Don’t worry. I won’t say anything to him… now. I’ll just torture the ever-living daylights out of him on the baseball field later.”

 “Helga…”

 “Oh, alright, I won’t torture the poor sap,” she conceded. “You’re no fun.”

 “I’m no fun because I don’t take pleasure in other people’s torture?” Arnold asked.

 “Aw, come on,” Helga pressed. “You know it’s kinda funny when Sid gets all twitchy and nervous.”

 Arnold stopped for a second. He wanted to stick up for his friend, but she did have a point.

 “Aha!” she said with a smile, pointing to Arnold’s face, as if his expression gave his thoughts away. “See? You know it’s true.” She crossed her arms in triumph. “Again. Terrible liar.”

 Arnold looked at Helga with serious eyes and a small smile. “Since when did you get so good at reading me?” Woah. That came out a little more… personal than he wanted it to.

 Helga didn’t seem to notice. “We’ve only known each other for the past 6 years. Doi.”

 Arnold nodded, taking that in. “That’s a long time to know someone, huh?”

 Helga crossed her arms, stood beside him, and lightly elbowed him as she said, “Six years too long, if you ask me.” Her eyes met his, her blue eyes laced with humor. She’s joking with me, he thought with a smile. It struck him that, in that moment, he had never noticed that she had blue eyes before. They were… pretty. How has he never noticed this in all the years he’s known her?

 The bell rang.

 “Oh, criminy,” Helga cursed. “I still need to take a leak before class. If I’m not back in time, cover me, would ya?”

 Arnold chuckled lightly at her candor. “Sure, Helga.”

 He smiled as he watched her run off. He quickly went back to the lunch table to throw away his food. His tablemates had already moved on and were probably back in class by now. How long had I been talking to her? he thought as he quickly made his way back to class.

 When he made it back to Mr. Simmons’ class, everyone, including Mr. Simmons, was still situating themselves. He went to Mr. Simmons and informed him that Helga was using the restroom and would be back in a minute or two. Mr. Simmons nodded and thanked him for letting him know.

 It was a minute after the second bell that Helga came back in the classroom. Mr. Simmons was writing something on the board and didn’t even look her way, let alone say anything to her. Helga glanced at Arnold, and Arnold reassured her with a wink. She gave him a small smile and retreated to the desk in the back of the room.

  _____

 Friday

 Arnold and Gerald were on the playground, sitting on the swings, but not really swinging on them. Gerald was quiet. Arnold found himself looking across the playground to the jungle gym, where he saw several classmates talking to Helga. She was animated in her conversation, and laughing. He couldn’t tell what she was talking about, but whatever it was, she was in her element.

 “Have you ever noticed before that Helga has blue eyes?” Arnold blurted out.

 Gerald shot him a death stare, mixed with confusion. “What?” he asked in irritated disbelief.

 Arnold realized the mistake he just made. “Oops,” he said sheepishly. “Sorry, Gerald.”

 “Let me be VERY clear. I do not want to talk about Helga Pataki right now. Seriously, ANYTHING but her,” Gerald said assertively, with a tinge of desperation in his voice.

 “Right,” Arnold said. He decided to shift the conversation to his birthday weekend.

  _______

 It had been a good day for Helga.

 She still couldn’t believe Gerald let her put him in a chin lock, as well as several other compromising positions, in front of the whole class... consensually. It was executed perfectly. As Helga broke down the moves step-by-step, the class seemed to be interested. When she put Gerald in embarrassing positions, it emitted giggles from their classmates, which was what she wanted. She couldn’t stand the guy, but she didn’t want the class to laugh him out of the place. She just wanted to deflate his giant ego a tad. She had a heart, you know.

 Later, on the playground, a few of her classmates even approached her, revealing that they, too, watched wrestling. Maybe there was something to this Uniquely You presentation. Simmons was still a granola boy, but hey, this project singlehandedly improved her week: she discovered some mutual interests with several of her classmates, she got to mortify one Gerald Johansson (with his consent... she couldn’t stress that enough), and she had several pleasant heart-pounding encounters with her beloved. She hadn’t felt this good in a long time.

 And it was only going to get better: next week, no homework.

 It was early evening. Bob was in the mood for Chinese take-out, so for once, he actually managed to order it and make it happen. Helga’s belly was full and she felt satisfied. In fact, she felt like taking a walk to walk off her dinner and enjoy the beautiful October weather.

 She found herself at Tina Park. She stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets, feeling the evening air get chillier. Up ahead, she saw what she thought to be her beloved Football Head sitting on a bench. She had to do a double take, as she often gets distracted by football-shaped objects around her: clouds, flower arrangements, shadows, plants... you name it. She had to get a closer look. As she got closer, she confirmed that it was, in fact, him.

 This is surprising, Helga thought. He normally hangs out with Tall Hair Boy on Friday nights.

 In a good mood and feeling a bit feisty, she approached the bench. “Hey, Arnoldo. What’s shakin’?”

 Arnold looked up at her, surprised. “Oh, hi, Helga.” He gave a small smile that faded immediately. He resumed looking back down, fiddling his fingers together.

 Something’s bothering him. “Mind if I sit with you?” she asked. Arnold shook his head, and she sat down next to him.

 They sat in silence for a second. Normally, Helga would’ve felt intense awkwardness in a situation like this. However, she felt uncharacteristically calm. Wow... I need to strangle my frenemy in front of my classmates more often.

 Before she could say anything, he spoke up. “Can I ask you something?” he asked.

 My beloved, my muse, my sun and stars, wants MY advice? Oh, my kind-hearted football-headed darling, how I wish to relinquish your anguish with my words and lift you back up to your noble fortitude. “Yeah, sure.”

 “Let’s imagine it was Phoebe’s birthday weekend. What would you be doing?”

 She felt kicked in the stomach. She could see where this was headed, and she didn’t like it. She took an unobserved deep breath in before responded. “Well,” she said through the exhale, playing it cool, “I’d probably be spending it with her doing something she wanted to do.”

 “Exactly!” Arnold exclaimed with his arms outward for emphasis.

 “Why?” she urged. She knew the answer, but she wasn’t about to show her hand.

 Arnold sighed. He leaned forward, placing his elbows in his knees, his hands touching each other. “It’s my birthday on Monday, and I wanted to spend the weekend doing fun stuff with my best friend,” he said, with his anger picking up. He sat up. “But he’s busy. Can you believe that?”

 “D-doing what?” Helga asked. She felt the nervousness in her voice. She really hoped he wasn’t going to say what she thought he was going to say.

 “Homework,” he said incredulously. “You think he would’ve planned his time better to be able to hang out with me on my birthday weekend, right?”

 Helga felt like she got sucker-punched in the stomach. Arnold confirmed what she had feared: Gerald was busy doing her essay. She just knew it. By holding up his end of the deal, Gerald had to sacrifice his time with his best friend on his birthday weekend. She felt terrible.

 Arnold got quiet. “I don’t think I’ll be seeing him much this weekend.”

 Helga couldn’t take it anymore. She had to take care of this and make this right. She sprung up. “That sucks, Arnold,” she started, “but I just remembered that I have to... feed my cat.” She inwardly winced at the terrible excuse she just made. She started to walk away quickly before turning around and saying, “I hope your weekend gets better,” before running off.

 Arnold scratched his head. “Helga has a cat?”

 ——-

 Helga knocked on the green door. It was getting dark now, and she was officially shivering. When she put on her light jacket when she left the house, she didn’t realize she’d take a one hour detour.

 A man with a serious face answered the door. “May I help you?” he asked. His tone was firm, yet he was poised. With a blowhard for a dad, she definitely didn’t know what having a dad like this was like.

 “Hi, Mr. Johansson,” she said. He seemed like the type of guy who liked formalities like that. She had something to take care of, and she just wanted to appease him and get him the heck out of her way. “I need to talk to Gerald. It’ll only take a minute.”

 He scrunched his eyebrows downward. Maybe I was too direct, she thought. “Okay,” he answered, “but only for a minute. It’s getting late, you know.”

 She nodded her head in understanding. He called for his son, in a stern, yet still-asking kind of way. The whole thing felt foreign to her.

 Gerald appeared at the door. When he saw her, his face became hard. “What do you want?” he asked in disgust.

 “The deal is off,” she said firmly.

 Gerald’s face softened. “What?” he asked, as if he didn’t quite understand.

 “You heard me. The deal is off. You don’t have to do my homework anymore, and I don’t need to be nice to Hair Boy anymore. It’s done. Finished. Kaput. Capiche?”

 Gerald looked like he couldn’t believe his luck. However, he was still confused. “But why? You’ve basically held your end of the deal. Why back down now?”

 Oops. She hadn’t thought this far ahead. Better think of something fast, and this time, nothing involving cats. “It’s too hard to be nice to the ol’ Football Head. I can’t take it any longer.” She crossed her arms and put on her signature scowl, signaling that she wanted this conversation to be over.

 Gerald did a small laugh and shook his head in disbelief. Helga hoped that he would, in true Gerald form, not prod Helga further. “If you say so, Helga,” he receded. He reached behind the door and excitedly started to put his jacket on. “Well, since my weekend is now wide open, I’m heading out. I interviewed Harvey the mailman this afternoon. Do you want me to send you the audio, and you can use it for your project?”

 Helga nodded. “Yeah, that’d be cool. Thanks.” She paused, hoping she wouldn’t sound too interested when she asked the next question. “Where… um, are you going?”

 “To Arnold’s,” he said, without skipping a beat. “It’s his birthday weekend, after all. He’s pretty bummed that I couldn’t hang out with him, so I’m going to go surprise him.”

 Helga tried to act casual. “I saw him at Tina Park near the east entrance on the way here.”

 Gerald was too preoccupied to notice her pretense. “Cool, thanks, Pataki.” He shouted to his family that he was going out. He closed the door behind him as he bounced down the steps past her.

 Before heading off, he turned around. “Hey, uh, thanks again… for being nice to Arnold this week. It really made his week.”

 “Yeah, yeah,” Helga said with a wave of her hand. “Don’t say I never did you any favors, Geraldo.”

 Geraldo smiled, turned around, and ran off eagerly down the street.

 Helga watched him go. When she was sure he was out of earshot, she placed her hands on her heart and whispered, “Happy birthday, Arnold.”

[lycorogue]

LycoRogue’s Love Stories

It’s that time of year again where I shamelessly give a shout out to my own love stories that I have written for Miraculous Ladybug, Fruits Basket,  and “Hey, Arnold!” 

Check below the break for the full list. Alternatively, you can find my stories here on Tumblr under #LycoRogue Fanfic. I also have the same handle (LycoRogue) over on AO3, FFN, and DA.

Miraculous Ladybug Fandom

Peeping Tomcat Summary: Something called to Adrien, and before he knew it, he was addicted to sitting outside Marinette's window as Chat Noir; just watching her. His voyeuristic habit needs to stop, but things have gotten far too complicated now that he realizes he's growing a crush on her. Rating: General Audiences Romance Level: Standard Love Square leading into Pining Adrien and Reverse Crush Word Count: 84,242; multi-chapter *Not posted to Tumblr* [AO3]   [FFN]   [DA]

Build Your Own Luck Summary: Everyone knows about the lucky charm bracelet that Marinette gave to Adrien, but where did Marinette get it in the first place? Why did Marinette have such faith in it? Perhaps Adrien got a bit more than luck when he accepted the bracelet. Perhaps he also got a taste of familial love. Rating: General Audiences Romance Level: Familial Love Word Count: 2581; one-shot [Tumblr]   [AO3]   [FFN]   [DA]

Prescription for Love Summary: This was not the weekend away Kagami was expecting, but then again, what was written on Marinette's letter wasn't what Adrien as expecting either. As Kagami tries to understand Adrien's confusion, and find time to try to woo him from Marinette, Adrien is busy trying to understand Marinette's train-side send-off, and finding a pharmacy **Contains “Backwarder” spoilers**. Rating: General Audiences Romance Level: Adrien confused about his romantic feelings for anyone while spending a weekend with Kagami and trying to fulfill Marinette’s request. (Takes place within the episode “Backwarder”) Word Count: 19,735; multi-chapter *Not posted to Tumblr* [AO3]   [FFN]   [DA]

Kisses Summary: Luka fears that he went too far with Marinette. She, on the other hand, doesn’t know how to tell him she wanted him to continue. Rating: General Audiences Romance Level: A chaste, super PG make-out session with Lukanette Word Count: 753; one-shot [Tumblr exclusive vignette]

I Was Thinking of You Summary: Girls' Day derails when Marinette realizes the male lead of a romance movie reminds her of someone other than Adrien. Rating: General Audiences Romance Level: Lukanette mutual pining as Marinette also wrestles with her feelings for Adrien Word Count: 3565; one-shot [Tumblr]   [AO3]   [FFN]   [DA]

I Don’t Care Summary: Gabriel Agreste's life was safe, stable, predictable, and boring. That is, until he literally ran into a strange woman at a club; a club he didn't even want to go to. He felt instantly that this Emiile woman would forever change his life. He didn't realize how true that feeling was. **Mildly Gabriel-Apologetic story as it takes place pre-series** Rating: Teen and up Romance Level: Gabriel falling in love with Emilie Word Count: 5406; multi-chapter; incomplete *1st chapter was originally a Tumblr Exclusive; 2nd chapter not posted to Tumblr* [AO3]   [FFN]   [DA]

Marinette’s Song Summary: Whenever Luka creates music it affects people. He can't handle having to hide his music anymore, and so he goes to the Tom & Sabine Charms and Potions shop for some help. Can Marinette's witchcraft allow Luka to finally share his music with the world? *Disclaimer: First attempt at an AU story* Rating: General Audiences Romance Level: Pining Luka and Marinette falling for him too; AU where Adrien isn’t around Word Count: 10,786; multi-chapter [Tumblr]   [AO3]   [FFN]   [DA]

Love Square Fluff Week 2020 Summary: My first attempt at doing Fluff Week for this fandom. I tried to loosely tie the different writing prompts together as a coherent story. Post-Season 3 spoilers included as the Love Square slowly collapses in on itself. Rating: General Audiences Romance Level: Standard Love Square (each side has at least one chapter dedicated to it), with the Love Square slowly collapsing into these two morons finally getting together Word Count: 18,247; multi-chapter; incomplete (I’m trying to work on those last two prompts still) [Tumblr]   [AO3]   [FFN]   [DA]

Fruits Basket Fandom

Love Taps Summary: Kyo's little head bonks carry more meaning and more love than anyone could ever truly know. Anyone besides maybe Tohru, who reflects on an entire lifetime of receiving the loving raps on the noggin. *Disclaimer: Post-Manga and Fruits Basket Another spoilers* Rating: General Audiences Romance Level: Married Kyoru as they raise their family Word Count: 2957; one-shot [Tumblr]   [AO3]   [FFN]   [DA]

Unsent Letter Summary: In Kyo’s bedroom waste basket there is a crinkled up ball of paper: a letter he wrote to Tohru, but could never find the courage to hand to her. Rating: General Audiences Romance Level: Angst as Kyo reflects on his love for Tohru Word Count: 476; one-shot drabble *Apparently I forgot to post to Tumblr* [AO3]   [FFN]   [DA]

Hearts Together Summary: A collection of Kyo and Tohru shorts to celebrate Kyoru Week 2019 over on Tumblr. They'll range from sweet friendship to budding romance to full-on post-manga love. Rating: General Audiences Romance Level: Kyoru mutual pining all the way through marriage and a family Word Count: 11,100; multi-chapter [Tumblr (only a sample)]   [AO3]   [FFN]   [DA]

Is She Your Mama Too? Summary: The curse has been broken. Tohru and Kyo have moved away, and Yuki will be leaving soon too. As life around him changes so drastically, Momiji decides it's time to get back the life he was owed. He only hopes it wouldn't bring any pain this time. *Post-Manga spoilers* Rating: General Audiences Romance Level: Familial love Word Count: 5058; one-shot *Apparently I forgot to post to Tumblr* [AO3]   [FFN]   [DA]

“Hey, Arnold!” Fandom

The Master of Breaking and Entering Summary: Helga, Gerald, and Arnold must break in to La Sombra's fortress to try to find Arnold's parents. How will Arnold react when Helga takes control of the situation? Rating: General Audiences Romance Level: My vision of what The Shortaki Kiss would be prior to the release of The Jungle Movie Word Count: 3203; one-shot *Not posted to Tumblr* [AO3]   [FFN]   [DA]

I Caught You a Star Summary: Something special goes down up on Wells Ridge during an early morning meteor shower. Something that Arnold has meticulously planned for quite some time. Now, can his best laid plans work out for him? Rating: Teen and up Romance Level: Shortaki proposal story originally written for 2011's Valentine's Day. Word Count: 7847; 2-chapters *Not posted to Tumblr* [AO3]   [FFN]   [DA]

I Thought You Liked Redheads Summary: Everyone is dying their hair lately, and getting a lot of attention for it. Should Helga cave and dye her hair too? Will that get the attention she craves from Arnold? Rating: Teen and up Romance Level: Shortaki teenage dating Word Count: 3621; one-shot *Not posted to Tumblr* [AO3]   [FFN]   [DA]

For Whom the Bells Toll Summary: We all saw what Arnold and Helga thought about being paired up by Rhonda's Origami Marriage Predictor. But what about Sheena and Eugene? Rating: General Audiences Romance Level: Companion story for the episode “Marriage”, but following Sheena and Eugene as they each picture what being married would be like Word Count: 10,964 ; one-shot (split into 4 chapters on AO3) *Not posted to Tumblr* [AO3]   [FFN]   [DA]

The Adventures of Brainy Summary: Why is it that Brainy never gets the girl? Well, he's planning on changing that, even if it's just in his own daydream. Rating: General Audiences Romance Level: Brainy picturing himself as a hero of a 1930s serial melodrama with Helga as the Damsel; originally written for Hey Arnold Valentine's Day contest back in 2013 Word Count: 4962 ; one-shot *Not posted to Tumblr* [AO3]   [FFN]   [DA]

Other Fandoms

Sparks for the Moment Fandom: Seven Kingdoms Trilogy/Graceling Trilogy Summary: As Queen Bitterblue kissed Saf, he realized he had one more chance. Possibly one last chance to be with his Sparks. With the snow storm raging outside, no one would disturb them within that drawbridge tower anyway. *Spoilers for the story Bitterblue* Rating: Explicit (straight up smut) Romance Level: Saf & Bitterblue smut with bittersweet romance Word Count: 3442 ; one-shot [AO3 Exclusive]

[meli-productions]

Line in the Sand

Shortaki Week, Day 6: Limit

Also on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25583053/chapters/62248690

“I’ve had it.” Gerald said, throwing back the rest of his milkshake and then letting the glass thump onto the table in front of him. “I’ve gotta put an end to this.”

Phoebe rolled her eyes, “I think you’re overreacting, Gerald. Just let him be.”

The young man narrowed his eyes at her before turning his gaze back towards his droopy-haired friend. Arnold had gotten into a fight with his…friend and now he sat at Slausen’s, away from the rest of his friends, nursing a tall glass of malt.

“C’mon, babe,” said Gerald, hands waving helplessly towards Arnold. “He’s a sad sight to see. We gotta do something, otherwise…otherwise he’s just gonna make us sad, too. Just look at that face.”

“He shouldn’t have pushed her, Gerald,” Phoebe answered. “Helga might…y’know, but she still has lines in the sand that he shouldn’t cross and - being very public is one of those things. I know he’s more open and no one would really question him, but - she’s -”

Gerald gave a sigh, “I get it. She’s worked so hard to be Helga G. Pataki, but - even she’s gotta be feeling a little guilty about things.”

At that, Phoebe gave a little giggle, “Helga’s gone more than ten years without his attention. She’ll be fine. Arnold on the other hand, well - ” she gestured towards him, “he’s the one that doesn’t do well without attention.”

Arnold - Arnold was fine. He was just - just peachy, if he did say so himself. He was just…enjoying life. Hanging out with his two best friends - Gerald and Phoebe - and wasn’t thinking about some other people.

Not. At. All. 

But now, watching Hel- that person - giggling and joking around with Curly of all people, it made something twist in his stomach and make him sick. 

But he was fine. Just fine. 

It wasn’t the way that Curly was almost normal while talking to Helga, the two of them speaking like old friends despite the fact that he had never seen them together. And, what was worse, was that no one was even batting an eyelash at the weirdness unfolding in front of them.

“Are you seeing this? Can you - what is - Gerald, please pinch me, I have to be imagining this,” said Arnold, almost pouting.

Gerald raised an eyebrow, barely acknowledging him, “Huh? What are you talking about, man? There’s nothing weird going on here.”

He sputtered and gestured madly ahead of him, “Are you not seeing this, man?”

“What?”

“That,” Arnold said, hand outstretched towards the two very cosy friends. “Curly and - and her. Since when are they friends? Since when do they…talk like that?”

A little laugh from Gerald brought Arnold’s attention away from them, “Aw, man. Please don’t tell me you’re jealous? They’ve been friends since kindergarten, remember? She used to defend him from Rhonda.”

Arnold was quiet as he recalled that memory, then he scoffed, “Yeah, well. They don’t have to be so public about it.”

The laugh from his friend doubled him over, “Mmm mmm mmm. Arnold, you need to talk to her and make this right.”

A frown, “I don’t have to do anything.”

Phoebe stood before a seated Arnold, arms crossed, and waited for the boy to unfold from his petulant, slumped posture.

“Are you done having a pity party, Arnold?” she asked. “Because it’s time to admit that you pushed too far and it’s time to make amends.”

Arnold looked at her, mouth agape, “Me? She’s the one who’s being irrational. Why can’t anyone know that we’re - friends? What is she so worried about?”

“You pushed her beyond her limits,” Phoebe said, eyes softening for a second before going flinty again. “She’s not comfortable because people don’t like thinking of her as a feeling person - it’s easy for them to see her as mean ol’ Helga. Besides, how can you be angry at her when you can’t even say what she is yourself?”

Arnold stood outside of the school and waited for Helga to come out. When she did, his heart clenched as he saw her with Curly once again.

“Um, Helga, can we talk?” he asked, then focused on Curly and added, “Alone?”

Curly raised an eyebrow and glanced at Helga, who gave him a little nod.

“It’s alright, Thad, I’ll be okay. See you later?”

“Alright, pinky, see you later.”

Helga stood there, arms crossed, “Well?”

“Uhm, I’m,” Arnold rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m sorry, Helga. I didn’t realize why you didn’t want people to know about us being - being - ”

“Friends?” said Helga, with a wry smile. “Yeah, don’t worry about it, Football Head. It’s nice being your friend but I don’t need everyone all up in my business.”

Arnold shook his head, “No. I mean, yes, I get that you don’t want people in your business, but we’re not friends.”

Helga’s face dropped, her eyes widening until he stopped her with a frantic wave of his arms. 

“No, no no no no no,” he said. “Not, not that we aren’t friends, we are, of course we are but I figured we were,” his hand snaked to the back of his neck again, “that we were more, and then you started hanging out with Curly and you were laughing and - and I just - ”

She put a hand up to his mouth, stopping him mid-rant, “Whoa there, Football Head. Breathe, please.”

When he started steadying, she continued, a blush spreading across her cheeks, “Me too. You’re - more than a friend to me, too. And yes, we still have to keep that a secret. I’m not ready for people to know yet, okay?”

“Okay,” said Arnold, shoulders relaxing. “Okay. I get it.”

Helga smiled, a genuine curve that twisted Arnold’s stomach which flopped when she started laughing. Her laugh kept flowing out of her until he frowned, and asked:

“What’s so funny?”

She clutched her stomach, “I can’t believe you were jealous of Curly.”

He pouted, “I was not.”

“Uh huh,” she said. “Whatever you said Football Head. C’mon Slausen’s on me.”

As he followed her away from the school, he continued calling after her, “I wasn’t.”

[meli-productions]

Wrapped Around Your Finger

Day Five of Shortaki Week: Pinky Swear

Harold had, once again, driven Helga over the edge. It wasn’t that the bigger boy was any meaner than she had allowed herself to be - but in his meanness, he was able to hit right where it hurt even though he never knew what it meant.

It wasn’t the first time that Helga was sent to the time-out corner during recess while all the other kids played so she could ‘think about her words and actions’, but it was the first time that she had company.

She kept looking up from her dirt-covered, white shoes and towards the sniffling boy sitting across the way. His bright green eyes were swimming with unshed tears as he looked towards the playing kids and every now and then he’d give a pitiful sniff.

“I’m sorry you got in trouble,” muttered Helga after steadying her own uneasy heart with a breath. “It’s all my fault.”

Arnold blinked back the tears and looked over at her, confusion pulling down his brow, “ ‘S’not your fault, Helga - Harold was - was being a meanie. I couldn’t let him say all those things about you.”

Helga felt her cheeks getting hot, so she turned away, “You didn’t have to tell him anything. I could’ve handled him myself.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have to,” said Arnold, the teary-eyed expression shifting into something stronger, angry. “You don’t have to deal with him all by yourself, Helga. That’s not fair. He’s not nice to you and no one else stands up for you and - and - and it’s just not fair.”

She shrugged, wishing that her heart would stop beating so happily at the sound of him defending her, “I’m mean too. Maybe I de-deserve it because I’m a mean person.”

He shook his head, his hair swinging from side-to-side, “Nuh-uh. You’re not mean. My grandpa says no one’s really that mean. Besides, you’re soft.”

“ ‘M not,” she pouted. “I hit Harold.”

“Because he hurt your feelings,” he said. “And - and you protect Phoebe from the big kids and - and you make sure that Curly doesn’t get pushed around by Rhonda - and - and you helped me that one time that I thought Grandpa forgot me.”

Helga shrugged, “Yeah, well, I - I just feel sorry for you guys, but don’t push me or else I could treat you the same way I do Harold.”

Arnold was quiet, eyes turning back down towards the crowd of kids. And Helga was able to catch her breath, processing the kind words of the only person that mattered. 

Yes. He was right. But they were different. Phoebe was the only person worth protecting - the only person smart enough not to pick at their scabs or boogers - and Curly was just pitiful, he didn’t deserve the things that Rhonda did to him.

And, of course, Arnold was Arnold who was nice to her since the first moment they’d met and had stood up for her against the biggest bully in their class who had just made fun of her about - about - well, it didn’t matter. He’d gotten in trouble defending her and she didn’t deserve his kindness.

“He’s wrong, you know,” said Arnold, bringing her attention back to the present, back to him. 

“What?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tick that she was sure to tuck that away for future reference, and then with a little shrug continued, “What Harold said isn’t true. You’re not.”

“N-not?”

“You’re not ugly, okay? Or mean, or any of the things that Harold said,” Arnold told her, meeting the wide-eyes looking at him. “I mean it. You’re not.”

Helga felt tears rising to her eyes, throat closing up, “You’re just saying that ‘cause you’re goody-goody nice boy, Arnold.”

“Nuh-uh, I mean it,” he said and stuck out his hand, pinky extended. “Pinky promise you that it’s true.”

It was Helga that sniffled this time, “Pinky promise.”

She twined her finger with his and looked away from the bright beam of sunshine from the boy’s face. 

“And you don’t ever have to worry. I’ll always be there when you need me,” he said, tightening the coil of his finger. “Pinky promise.”

[meli-productions]

Corazon de Oro

Day Four Prompt: Locket

Also on AO3:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/25583053/chapters/62128462#workskin

It was only a metaphorical heart and she knew that it was stupid to miss the weight against her chest when she had an almost identical weight around her hand, but - it was a difficult thing to explain to her psyche.

Missing that cold heart against her own heavy heart usually meant that she was up to shenanigans leading to getting it back into her hands before people found out about her secrets. No more monologuing to the face of her beloved in the quiet corners of the city, behind walls or dumpsters or trees and instead turning her monologuing towards the newest pink books in her series of journals. 

Still. It had grown to be a part of her and she missed it terribly.

Arnold was watching his…friend with the intensity of a San Lorenzo summer, following the track of Helga’s hand as it distractedly reached up for the top of her dress, clenching around the fabric there as if expecting to find something and then not finding it. Her eyes widened and he could almost see the panic setting in her body before it realized something and relaxed.

At her side, he saw Phoebe give her a soft look, not pitying exactly but sympathetic, as if she knew more than she let on - and it irritated him slightly to know that someone knew his - friend better than him.

“Helga,” he said, upset when the sound of his voice brought her back with a startled jump. “Are you alright? You look a little - did you lose something?”

Her breath hitched for a moment, face shifting into the wide-eyed trapped look he’d grown accustomed to seeing when she was caught doing something against her nature. Then she took a good luck at him and, as if remembering the status of their relationship, she eased back with a wobbly smirk.

“Aw, Football Head,” she said, the tease bringing more of her back to the surface. “Are you worried about me? I’m fine you know just - just getting used to some things.”

Arnold fought against two instincts - one to roll his eyes at the taunt and the other to keep pressing - but he decided to give her a warm smile. “I’ll always worry about you, Helga. But you know you can tell me if something’s bothering you, right?”

And all of the worry melted away as he saw the rosiness spreading across the bridge of her nose, his stomach giving a little swoop as she turned her blushing face away.

“Quit your flirting, Football Head and - don’t you have work to do?”

With a smile that had moved from warm to dazed, Arnold hummed an agreement and turned back to his work, barely making out the ‘mmm mmm mmm, you’re too far gone on her’ from Gerald.

It dawned on him that night at dinner. As Stella swooped down next to him and placed the bowl of mashed potatoes, smacking Oscar’s hand away before pressing a kiss to the crown of Arnold’s head, realization sparked with the press of his mother’s love.

“A heart of gold,” he said under his breath and catching the attention of the woman who was barely out of earshot.

Stella frowned, “Honey, are you - is it - what was that about a heart of gold?”

Arnold blushed and looked down at the plate in front of him, preferable over the worried look in his mother’s green eyes, “It’s just - I realized we lost something important in San Lorenzo and I didn’t really notice because it wasn’t mine to notice. And now - well, now I’m noticing and I feel bad.”

She looked like she wanted to squeeze something with him, but the announcement from Miles that food was served interrupted her train of thought and Arnold hoped she’d forget about it altogether.

No such luck.

Stella herded him onto the couch after dinner and pinned him with a look that invited no argument from him, so he took a seat and waited for her to say her piece.

When she settled next to him, she sighed and said, “Arnold, I need you to understand that losing the Corazon was not your fault, okay? You chose to live and that’s more important to us - even to the Green-Eyes - than the Corazon.”

“Oh,” said Arnold, frowning. “No, Mom, that's not…I mean, yeah it was really sad that we lost the Corazon but I was thinking about a different golden heart. I think that Helga’s locket was ruined after being used to set off the medicine. And I think that she’s - missing it.”

She blinked a few times, processing what he had said, then a wobbly smile spread on her face and her lips parted with a coo, “Oh, my sweet boy. I should’ve known you were talking about your girlfriend.”

“Mom, she’s not my - that. We’re just, y’know, friends now,” Arnold said, blush highlighting his freckles. “I just feel guilty. That locket meant a lot to her.”

Stella nodded, a sly tilt of her lips as she sat there thinking, then her eyes lit up, “I think I have something to help you.”

Arnold felt awkward.

No.

He felt like he was burning from the inside out with embarrassment, then chilled by the cold sweat worry that he’d be laughed out of Hillwood. He hadn’t been sure whether this was something he should’ve been dressed up for, or should he have brought flowers, or maybe warned Helga that he was coming - 

“Um, Arnold, you doing okay?” asked Helga, eyes scanning the area, “Something wrong? Any of those meatheads after you? Or - ” something seemed to add-up as she stopped, taking in his nervous demeanor and her mouth opened in a little ‘o’, “Oh. I get it. You’re gonna let me down. That’s why you’re so nervous.”

Arnold spluttered, “What?”

Helga pulled her arms tight across her chest, scowl fighting to crawl onto her face but fighting with the wobbiliness of her lip, “I’m a big girl, Arnold. Rejection isn't something stranger to me. C’mon Football Head, lay it on me.”

“No,” said Arnold. “That’s not what - why would you think - I- ”

“Just - get it over with, Arnold.”

“I have a present for you,” he blurted out, not able to handle the look on Helga’s face and he shoved the small, square box into her hands. 

Helga’s eyes dropped to the little white box, fingers playing with the soft pink ribbon on top, and then she glanced back up to him, confused, “You - you got me a present?”

Face heating up again, Arnold gave a nervous chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck, “Well, I realized what you’ve been looking for - what’s missing and I figured that you might want a replacement.” 

Realization softened Helga’s features and she pulled on the ribbon to open the box. A little gasp parted her lips as she looked inside, and she looked up at him with an almost dumbstruck expression.

“This is -”

“My mom gave it to me,” Arnold said, still blushing. “She said it was the least we could do for everything you’ve done for us and - well, something happened to yours. 

Helga pulled out the thin chain that held the dainty gold locket and brought it up to her line of vision, “Why? You didn’t need to do that.”

“You lost that helping me find my parents. The least I could do is make sure that you still had something to count on. I - there’s not a picture in it though - I figured that you’d want to do that yourself.”

Helga smiled, a sweet curve that made her seem like a different person altogether and it pulled on Arnold’s stomach and almost distracted him from her next words.

“You’re a softie, Football Head…but thanks,” she said, pulling the chain around her neck and letting the heart-shaped locket rest on her chest. “I guess I don’t have to hide it all that much now, right?”

“R-right.”

She laughed, “Alright, enough of this softie mess, let’s go get some ice-cream.”

The weight was different on her chest. Not as clunky, not as heavy as the hand in hers, but delicate like the bond between them. It didn’t hold a picture of her beloved, nor an inscription, or even a lock of his hair, but it meant so much more.

There would be no monologuing to it; she didn’t need to anymore. And now, the warmth of a golden heart against her beating one would be a beacon of hope for the future - and that her psyche could live with. That is something she could live with.

[meli-productions]

Shortaki Week - Day 3

I missed the first two days 😭 so I’ve got to make up those days.

Here’s day three’s though: Satellite

Also on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25583053

It was an orbit. Truly.

Phoebe was not one to hyperbolize or make up delusions of grandeur, she wasn’t made for that. She left that to someone else. Facts and figures made sense to her, and she was used to being the stabilizing factor to a friend with more worries than most their age and making sure that everything went the way it should. 

But just because she’d been wearing glasses her entire life did not mean she was blind. And facts were facts - there was science to her observations that she, nor anyone else, could deny.

An orbit.

When the eyes of one dropped their gaze, the other lifted it. They found each other regardless of location, of whether one was stalking the other one - or merely just a coincidence. Circling around each other, and once it looked predatory but now it was something that gave and took.  And she theorized that, even if you were to pull them away, they’d find each other again - like magnets drawn to one another. 

And it didn’t just run one way. Though in one direction it was easier to see - 

“Helga, you’re staring again,” Phoebe said, nudging the pink-clad girl to catch her attention. “He’s gonna look over here and then you’re gonna have to explain what’s happening?” 

There was a little furrow in her brow when Helga turned her blue gaze on Phoebe. At first, it looked angry, then furrowed deeper into confusion, until it relaxed into resignation with a sigh that deflated the whole of her body and deflated her towering stature. 

“Thanks, Pheebs,” Helga said, giving one final flicker of a look in the distance before turning to the smaller girl. “How was your trip to Kentucky?”

Phoebe shot her best friend a look, studious and probing, “You’re changing the subject. But - it was fine, my grandmother was glad to see us. It’s been a while.”

Helga gave her a little smile, “That’s great.”

And when the gaze and smile dropped down towards the little pink book in her hands, pink bow drooping, Phoebe glanced back over to the other end of the room. She was unsurprised with what she saw. 

-in the other direction, it was just as apparent. 

Phoebe met the focused green eyes of the young man on the other end of the cafeteria. He had been watching like an eagle, those sharp eyes following every bob of the pink crowned gold, until they slid just less than an inch away and met Phoebe’s curious expression.

Even from the distance, she could see how his fair face pinkened under her scrutiny, though his embarrassment didn’t hold him back from turning his attention back to Helga.

Next to Arnold, Gerald turned his attention over to her.

What is going on? He mouthed to her, pointing between Arnold at his side and Helga at hers.

Phoebe’s lips curled up into a small smile, but to him, she only shrugged and mouthed back, Later.

Experimentation would be useful, though not necessarily needed. Phoebe had been taking notes since she was old enough to write - Helga had her poetry, but she had observations. 

Arnold was a harder datum to track because he was more volatile than Helga - always shifting in his emotions and his desires. 

“Phoebe, our friends are not lab rats, we can’t do this,” said Gerald as he and Phoebe followed the friends in question on their unfortunate forced outing. 

The girl barely acknowledged him as she scribbled furiously in her notebook, “Look, Mr. Simmons is forcing them to spend time together as a punishment for causing a mess in class - it’s the perfect social experiment.”

Gerald sighed, “Yeah, but why are we doing this, Pheebs? We already know they don’t get along and why they don’t. This is just a waste of an afternoon - we should go get ice cream.”

In the distance, Arnold had started an argument about ‘space’ and saying that she won’t ‘have to worry about me because I’m going my own way’ and ‘fine by me, Football Head, I don’t need to learn anything about you.’ 

“See what I mean.”

Phoebe rolled her eyes, “I give them seven minutes before they crash into each other and have to find a reason to apologize.”

Like clockwork, the two of them found their way circling back to each other - five minutes and twenty-four seconds after separating - and Phoebe was able to shoot a smug grin up at Gerald.

Helga and Arnold squared up against each other, neither wanting to apologize but admitting that they needed each other to complete Simmons’ assignment. When the two of them had made up, defensive postures melting away into soft smiles that then further morphed into protective scoffs and placating grins, Phoebe pulled Gerald away.

“I don’t get it,” Gerald said, scratching at his head. “How? Just how do they always find a way to make up when they’re horrible to each other? And I’ll admit, I put as much of the blame on my boy as I do Pataki.”

“They’re magnetic,” answered Phoebe, “You don’t get it because you don’t feel it. Because Arnold’s never been anything more than - than the Earth and Helga’s a moon being pulled into his orbit. He makes the rules and she follows.”

Gerald frowned, “Are we talking about the same two kids? Because Helga would never do what Arnold says.”

Phoebe smiled, small and weighed down by years of secrecy, “Haven’t you ever wondered why Arnold worries so much about his bully? So much farther than what he should? Or why Helga will smack everyone in the class but has never put a hand on Arnold?”

Mouth opened to comment, then closed in confusion as realization set in, “Orbit?”

“Orbit.”

[sillygurl1021]

Chapters: 2/8 Fandom: Hey Arnold! Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Helga Pataki/Arnold Shortman, Helga Pataki & Arnold Shortman, Phoebe Heyerdahl/Gerald Johanssen, Harold Berman/Rhonda Wellington Lloyd Characters: Arnold Shortman, Helga Pataki, Phoebe Heyerdahl, Gerald Johanssen, Harold Berman, Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, Lila Sawyer, Sid (Hey Arnold!), Stinky Peterson, Eugene Horowitz, Nadine (Hey Arnold!) Additional Tags: Shortaki Week 2020, Shortaki Week, some foul language, Some ooo lala scenes, Arnold being assertive, flirting it up, Teenagers Summary:

This is a series of short stories following the prompts of Shortaki Week 2020!

These shorts will follow each other. The first three are of Arnold while the three after are of Helga’s. The final two are of both together. In these they are 16 years old but everything had still happened before that, minus TJM!

An AU where Arnold slowly figures out how much an effect Helga Pataki has had on him through the years, not just now. He notices how shes driving him crazy, not just from the bullying but from the new feelings she is having him hold.

Read on Shortaki Week to find out what happens to them!

I hope you enjoy!

[shortakiweek]

UPDATES

Hey Shortaki fans!  Two small updates/notes.

1) I have updated the Rules Page.  Things had been mostly untouched since 2016 when this tumblr was created.  Since then tumblr and fandom have changed a lot.  The main thing is that we explicitly won’t allow NSFW submissions for ShortakiWeek.  It’s forbidden by Tumblr’s TOS since 2018 and tbh no one ever actually made anything above a PG-13 rating in year’s past so it shouldn’t be a huge change.

2) Get ready for reblogs from 2020.  I dropped the ball on that at the time and am trying to now work on sharing what was missed. 3) I am actually looking for help for this year!  I need a trustworthy HA! fan who is very tumblr savvy to help during the actual week to reblog stuff.  Ideally this would be someone motivated to promote Shortakiweek throughout the next two months. If interested, please send a message!

[shortakiweek]

When did you first start doing shortaki week?

Shortaki Week started in 2016. It's been sporadically held since then. There was one in 2017, 2020 and now the 4th time in 2022!