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Helga G. Pataki: Hillwood's New Superhero

Summary:

As if my life wasn’t already difficult. I already had to watch the love of my life making goo–goo eyes at little Ms. Perfect while completely ignoring me. Now, I also have to juggle school, keep my feelings for him a secret and fight evil while dressed in nothing but a skimpy bathing suit, all while hiding my new lifestyle as a superhero from my nosey classmates. Criminy, give a girl a break, would ya?

Chapter 1: This is a Love Story

Notes:

So, recently, I began re–watching Hey Arnold! And have come to fall in love with it again. The complexities, the mature themes and the characters—ugh! I remember seeing it on a TV a few times as a kid and though I didn’t get to really follow much of it since it was a sporadic watch, I really became invested in Helga. She was the character who stood out to me and she still does.

I just had to write something where she was the main character and what better genre to throw her in then a Magical Girl story? She actually suits it perfectly.

Let me know what you think!

Chapter Text

Have you ever gotten the feeling that your life is nothing more than a massive joke and you're actually the universe's punching bag? That though you may be screaming and crying and sobbing on the floor, there was never going to be such a thing as 'going too far'? I often felt like I wasn't that different from a protagonist in a sitcom, in that they were so horrible and awful to everyone around them, that the audience didn't mind when bad things happened to them. That they could continue to laugh and delight in the protagonist's misery without feeling guilty over it, because they had it coming by being terrible people.

And while we're here, have you ever gotten that feeling that fate takes your misery as a challenge? You could be walking down the street, minding your own business, when boom! everything suddenly hits you. No warnings. No signs. Just bam! Here's some problems. And when you cry and reach out for some help, fate is like, 'hold my beer' so it can throw something even worse at you.

"Helga!"

Granted, in my case, that something worse was very . . . particular.

"What on earth are you doing?!"

And I think I now had a problem.

That problem being me hiding behind a bush, squeezed in a tight ball, in an attempt to escape the eight–foot fucking tall monster currently hunting for me. Said monster had been peering beneath a park bench for the dumb teenage dressed like a Victoria's secret model when Nel had said that. And now, the monster was looking up to follow her line of sight. Stupid coward had been tucked away in a tree where she could watch from a safe distance. Her watching eventually led the monster to spotting me and when it did, it let out a hoarse growl as its eyes narrowed into a glare.

Uh oh.

It barely even turned around before I had leapt to my feet and sprinted. I had my lips pressed together to contain the scream. Not just because an ugly creature wanted to eat me, but because the actions had been so fast and I still wasn't used to being able to move like this. It was all so fluid; it was like I was flying across the ground. That must have come with the package deal—super speed. And dexterity, or whatever caused you to run like you were a vampire in a Twilight movie.

Yeah, I had superpowers. Cool, right? Which I guess made me a superhero—sorta. You could see how that was currently working out for me. Turns out being a superhero was really hard. Especially when you had been offered the gig a few minutes ago and prior to this, the closest you had come to being in a fight in recent memory were those doors labelled pull and yet, for some reason, your mind interprets it as push.

Now you might be thinking: Helga. Duh. Of course being a superhero wouldn't be easy. Who wouldn't think that when entire movie franchises and shows and comics were dedicated to proving that exact point? It wasn't like the main characters were just handed their powers so they could skip off to their happily ever after with their love interest. And yeah, when you put it that way, it sounded stupid. But nobody told me it was going to be like this.

Footsteps were approaching me. I tried to keep my mouth in that tight line, but then, there came that growl and—

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

Here comes my scream.

Looking back, this wasn't the smartest decision I had made. And I'm sure that Nel was thinking that to herself as well. I didn't need my enhanced hearing to know that she was smacking her forehead right now. Which quite frankly would've been a sight to behold. You know, Nel being a cat and all . . . not that a cat face–palming was the most shocking and devasting thing I had witnessed today.

I was, after all, running away from an eight–foot tall alien while dressed in nothing but a leotard and heels. Would you believe that this is actually a love story?

Sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I? This probably wasn't the best place to start my story. Well, you know what they say: nothing beats the smell of a brutal mistake on a Monday. Something, I was realising, I was quite good at.

Okay.

Let's try this again. From the actual start this time.

So let's see, it all began—