#i also zone out briefly when watching stuff so being able to catch the tail end if subtitles keeps me on track

[rorykillmore]

and now that i’m back from the movies and settled, this is a christmas present for @sonofkaden who requested something with ratchet and kara pertaining to ratchet having trouble with school bc of executive dysfunction/overstimulation and kara being able to relate and supporting him. even though i do also headcanon kara as autistic, i usually don’t examine stuff like this because i consider it a bit out of my Lane so... it means a lot that fate trusted me with it enough to request it specifically. i hope it was done well.

fate!!! i’ve been lucky enough to be your friend for quite awhile now, but i feel like this year particularly? we’ve managed to get even closer and it’s something that i’ve been really grateful for. your infectious kindness and passion is something i’ve always admired but you also have a way of making people feel really good about themselves and i just. want you to know how much i appreciate that, especially recently. i know your family’s taught you to doubt yourself but i don’t ever want there to be any doubt about how much of a positive impact you’ve had on my life. you deserve all the support and validation in the world so hopefully this fic is like... a nice way of obtaining a bit of that.

Ratchet isn’t just one of her best friends anymore -- she also has to act, in some capacities, as his guardian. It’s not a task she can solve with laser vision or superstrength.

There’s an undercurrent of relief in the air as Kara waits outside her car from where she’s parked in the designated drop-off/pick-up zone -- but that’s probably to be expected. Clairbourne just let out for the holidays, after all, and Kara can still remember the thrill of having a week and a half off school to look forward to.

Generally, Ratchet likes school. She knows that and has never wanted to discourage it -- but still, even he can stand to take a break every once in awhile. She can’t pretend she’s not looking forward to getting to spend a little more time with him, this year especially (since they’re still getting over spending so much time apart). She’s even thought about asking Ratchet and Sasuke if they want to take a little trip, maybe spend a few days at a cabin somewhere for New Years -- though she’s not sure how well Sasuke vacations.

Maybe Ratchet’ll feel like helping her strategize on the way home, she thinks, breaking into a familiar grin as she sees him approaching.

Her expression fades almost immediately, because it does’t take her long to figure out that something’s wrong.

Ratchet’s ears droop unhappily as he walks, and he can’t quite manage to smile back at her. The look on his face is one that Kara can’t quite immediately place, but she doesn’t need to be told that he’s not feeling well.

“Hey,” she greets him more softly than originally intended as he walks up to her. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah.” Ratchet pauses. Blinks. “Uh -- I mean, no. Can we just... ? I kinda wanna get out of here.” He glances back at the school over his shoulder and Kara frowns, trying not to feel immediately protective.

“Sure.” She gestures to the driver’s seat door. “You wanna drive?”

Ratchet shakes his head mutely, which - if Kara didn’t have it before - is definite indication that something’s up. She doesn’t push the issue, instead retreating into the car, buckling up, and waiting for him to do the same.

The drive back to New York isn’t a long one - there’s a rift about ten minutes from here that puts them right in Manhattan - but today it suddenly feels like an eternity. Kara’s mind races, brimming with what if’s and all sorts of over-dramatic possibilities. It’s this part that she’s still not entirely used to. Ratchet isn’t just one of her best friends anymore -- she also has to act, in some capacities, as his guardian. It’s not a task she can solve with laser vision or superstrength. 

Kara may be able to move mountains (sometimes literally), but she’s only twenty-five years old, and she worries more often than she allows herself to admit that she’s gonna mess something up.

“Ratchet, talk to me,” she blurts out, not able to maintain the heavy silence any longer. “What’s going on?”

Ratchet presses the side of his head against the passenger’s seat window. “I just --”  He doesn’t look at her.  “I don’t want you to be... disappointed.”

He’s never said anything like that to her before, and even to someone who’s usually close to invincible, it feels a little like being punched.  She steals a glance at him, but he still won’t meet her gaze. “That’s, like -- not even possible.” Making it sound teasing strikes her as the best way of lightening the mood, even though in all seriousness, she doesn’t think she could ever not be proud of him. A little more carefully, she adds, “You know you can tell me anything.”

There’s a beat in which Kara thinks he’s going to fall into silence again -- but then he moves, and out of the corner of her eye she realizes he’s stopping to rummage through the backpack at his feet. They’re nearing a stoplight by the time he pulls out what he’s looking for, so she spares it a longer look.

 It’s a piece of paper -- this semester’s report card, she realizes after a moment. She scans his marks and sees a few C’s, a couple of D’s -- a B. One F.  

Her heart sinks for him, not because of him. She’s already gotten a sense of how he must be taking this.  

“Oh, Ratchet...” Her attention diverts briefly as they start driving again. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to --” He sounds startled, and then he cuts himself off. “I’m the one who messed up.”

“It’s just a report card. I don’t know anyone who got through high school without getting a bad one, once in awhile,” Kara soothes. Her first couple grades, back when she was still getting used to school and... Earth in general, definitely hadn’t been so great.

Ratchet straightens in his seat, his tail twitching frustratedly in his lap. “Okay, but -- this shouldn’t have -- I don’t even know what happened.”

“...What do you mean?”

He doesn’t give her an immediate answer, but she doesn’t push him for one. She knows by now that sometimes it’s less about Ratchet not wanting to talk to her and more about him not being able to find the right words.

“I -- I missed a lot of homework,” he admits after awhile. “I know I shouldn’t have, I just -- I knew some of my grades were slipping, and every time I thought about trying to catch up, or do extra credit, I would just -- I don’t know, freeze up!”

Kara stays quiet, processing, because she’s pretty sure Ratchet has more to say and she doesn’t want to interrupt his working it out.

“Like, I would think about doing it, and then I couldn’t -- think at all, until I stopped trying to make myself do it. And the more behind I got, the harder it was, and I -- I didn’t know how to make myself --”

His voice breaks. By now, Kara has decided to pull over into a nearby Walmart parking lot, because this is quickly becoming a situation that demands her full attention. Once the car is parked, she turns in her seat and reaches out to smooth over some of his fur.

“Ratchet,” she murmurs. “It’s okay. It really is okay.”

He looks close to tears, and she can hardly stand it. She doesn’t want to watch something he enjoys turn into a source of stress and disappointment -- she knows some of how that feels, and she suspects putting it into words for him might help.

“My foster mom used to say that -- when you feel like that, it’s called ‘executive dysfunction’. For all Krypton’s advances, we never had a a word for it.” Kara pauses for a moment, almost thoughtful. “But it doesn’t mean you’re lazy, or that you’re not smart. Okay? Grades on a report card are a dumb way of measuring that stuff, anyway.”

For all that this must be weighing on him, Ratchet tries to smile at her, and she feels a familiar flash of admiration for his courage. “...It still feels kinda crappy.”

Kara can’t help but laugh a little, endeared by how candid it sounds. “Yeah. I know.”  

Ratchet pauses more uncertainly. “How do you, uh... ? Deal with the -- executive dysfunction stuff. I mean, is there a way to -- ?”

“Well,” Kara considers briefly. “It sort of depends on what works best for you. But -- now that I know you’re having trouble, I can help. We can work on figuring out the best way to schedule things -- like, which times of the day are the easiest to study in, and how much time you should spend on it before you need to take a break.”  She remembers how supportive Eliza had been whenever she’d struggled as a child, and in that moment, it’s all she wants to make sure Ratchet gets to have the same thing.

“I bet Sasuke would help, too,” she offers, because she knows he would want to, even if he isn’t always good at saying as much. “In a way, it’s kind of like... training. You push yourself too hard when you spar, and your body gives out. You push yourself too hard when you study, and your brain does the same thing. If... that makes sense?”

When Ratchet nods, it’s slow and not quite certain, but some of the shame and frustration has eased from his expression. “I... think so, anyway.”

“There’s plenty of time to figure things out,” Kara continues. “And plenty of time to bring your grades up. I mean -- it’s sophomore year. You’re supposed to make mistakes sophomore year!”

“I guess I’ll have to take your word for it, since you’ve already survived it.” Ratchet’s tone is starting to sound teasing and wry, and it instantly eases a little of the weight on Kara’s heart. He pauses, his expression softening.  “...Thanks, though, Kara.  I --”  He hesitates.  “I’m really glad I don’t have to do this without you.”

The words hit her in a strange place.  All her feelings surrounding being pulled back and forth between two worlds are... complicated, to say the least, but she leans over to plant a soft kiss on his forehead. And when she pulls away to answer, she finds that she means it. “I am, too.”

They smile at each other for a moment, before Kara’s smile turns a little more playful. “So. Ice cream?”

“In the middle of winter?” Ratchet asks, though he doesn’t sound at all opposed to the idea.

“We’re still in New Orleans,” Kara points out, smile broadening into a grin, before she turns the car on again.

What she doesn’t say is that Ratchet deserves something nice. That he deserves -- the world, really.

But she thinks he gets the message anyway.

[twilightpony4]

Ola Americano... Turtle?: 16. I Don’t Like This

Jet black walls were trimmed in a once hot pink color that faded with age. The business’ sign was its name in script that resembled mostly of a Barbie font. Underneath it we're rearrangeable letters that spelled out titles in Portuguese. Finding the place was not so hard, but it was a long trek since they had to find their way through the bustling night near the famous Copacabana. Fortunately, the city was very similar to New York with its architecture, thus they were able to travel the best way they knew how. By rooftop. Settled in a more quiet setting, the mutants lurked around the standoff-ish building. With no windows and no easy access to the place alone, they had to settle for the most practical yet revealing way to see through. The door. It was obvious that it was a business for numerous individuals, both rugged and groomed, came through the front doors. The only problem was that there was a good flow of people coming through. Raphael had pointed out that there was indeed a door that was hidden in the dark due to the absence of light around it.

With the ‘ok’, the red brute took out his sai from its back sheath. With its small tip, he jiggled the doorknob as silently as he could. Donatello listened in closely to hear it unlock and nodded when he got it done. With the sai replaced, Leonardo jumped in to open the door for he had a ready and steady hand. His intentions were to just crack the door open. Fortunately, there was a chain lock that only let it go so far in case they accidentally swung it open. He gave a slow sigh after the fact.

The room was dark with ominous, neon lights that lit up in particular spots. The main scheme was a luscious purple followed by some blue and red hues here and there. With the dancing music, it looked like a hangout until they saw that there was a stage to their right. It was reflective, but extremely black. Most of the lights danced around the floor of the stage. Catching glimpses of the light, some skimpily clad women danced together in rhinestones. Leo slowly closed the door up until there was a sliver of space open. As he turned his head away, his innocent eyes were wide with scarring and fear. “Angel didn’t mention this.” He gulped, still trying to get himself together as he sat down beside the door. It just caught him off guard. Raphael, curious to see what got him riled up, leaned over him to crack the door open again. This time, the rest of the mutant gang wanted to peek in as well. Immediately seeing what was going on, they, too, turned around closely and re-shut the door.

“Naw, I’m out.” Raphael shook his head and put his hands up. “Turning around.” A hand stopped him after it snagged him by the hem of his pants. “Stay here.” Leonardo commanded. Raphael scoffed in disbelief. “You’re not serious, Leo.” “I don’t like it at all, but we got to see if he’s in there.” “How?” Donatello chimed in with a shaking voice. Aw, the poor kid. “Time to test how mature you guys can really be.” He said with a newfound confidence. Opening the door some, he tried to scan the dark room. Suddenly, he shut the door. It was almost a slam, which caused the clan to retaliate back at his carelessness. He quieted them with his reasoning. Upon his face, he was severely mortified with widened eyes and a tense posture against the wall. Again? “You know, on second thought, why-don’t-you-two-scope-it-out-first.” His attention was clearly on the two mutant sisters as he spoke breathlessly. Yet another scarring on the honor turtle. “What happened to our fearless leader?” Raphael teased with laughter behind his words. The leader cleaned up his act to roll his eyes. “It’s called ‘respect’.” He snapped back, growling in between.

Pushing past them, Mona tapped them both on the head to stop their bickering. Opening the door, she watched as the boys looked away. Venus just stood by for only one really needed to monitor the scene. The lizard lady sighed out of boredom multiple times. Seeing such a display unsettled her. Ultimately, this was frowned upon where she came up from, but since she also respected that this was how these girls could make some money, she was torn. Sure, some girls enjoyed this work,but she really felt bad for those who had to come to this as a last resort. She could see it on some of the girl’s faces as their expressions gave subtle cues of discomfort. She wished she could intervene on their behalf, but now was not the time. After some minutes, the naked women disappeared and a more modest act began to unfold involving a foreign dancer in traditional cloth. “There’s nothing ‘bad’ going on. You can look.” Mona spoke deadpan to the group. Once again, a little more shyly this time, they all peeked into the room. What they saw was a lot softer. On the stage was a dark skinned, Brazilian woman with short curls. She wore a sky blue rhinestoned brazierre and a long, silky skirt. Her act was belly dancing to Middle Eastern music. The gold accents and chains clinked numerous times as he moved her hips abruptly yet flawlessly. Taking in the show directly was unbelievable. Front row, taking up three seats, were their guys. Cha Ocho, alive, was on one end while another guy sat in the middle. Who could be next to him was none other than the guy they were truly looking for. Dark skinned with a mean mug and a short haircut was the man they were looking for (all thanks to Vincent for sending in a mugshot). Upon being in the front, the dancer paid more attention to them as they sat back and smiled at her. “Yeah, I can hang out with this guy.” Michelangelo slipped out. When he did, there was already a backlash of disapproving looks. He brought his hands up in surrender, but was very calm by closing his eyes and talking smoothly. “I know, I know, ‘Don’t be an idiot’.”

“What’s the plan?” Venus whispered, pulling everybody back out except for Mikey who was too infatuated by what was going on inside. “We bust in and ask Stockman’s friend a couple questions.” Raphael proposed by cracking the knuckles in his fist. A beat down was going to feel good after they did them dirty. “Raph, we can’t go in there.” Leonardo shook his head. “Why the shell not?” Was Leo just being a hypocrite earlier to stay, or what? “Just shake up the place a little bit without anybody catching us.” “No.” He spoke low and firm. “We need more time before the police try to arrive. Its gotta be something a little more subtle than that.” “Someone’s gotta go in.” Donatello reminded. Leonardo understood, but he wasn’t sure how or whom. Meanwhile, Michelangelo was still incognito with his ogling.

“Dang, look at that girl go.” He whispered in amazement. “Mikey!” Donnie whispered harshly. Then, he grabbed him by the shell and pulled him back from the door. “No, for real, she doin’ that belly dancin’ stuff! It’s insane! How her hips do that?” He whispered that last part partially to himself. “Look!” He urged them to see as he pointed. It got the attention of the others. The only one to delay was Leo, who only rolled his eyes and groaned at his childish ways. “Mikey, we don’t wanna…” His voice trailed off just as his eyes once it hit what Michelangelo was talking about. It wasn’t so vulgar of the sorts as the woman dressed in traditionally modern dress and jived with the beat. “wow, that’s pretty cool.” He had to admit as she popped and did a well done shake down. “Her outfit isn't revealing either. She almost looks like a…” Before Michelangelo could finish that thought, his voice trailed off. As if by magic, Venus, Leo, and Donatello all had a similar idea. Slowly, their heads turned towards Mona Lisa. The lizard lady was distracted from their stares for the longest time. Raphael was the first to see what was out of the ordinary as the rest of the group looked on at her. A moment passed until she gave herself a break from the dancing woman. When she looked back, she jumped from their stares. Her hand covered her mouth as she uttered something small.

“Do you need something?” She asked, quite confused and with a raised brow. “You need to go in there, Mona. Pose yourself as a dancer to get his attention.” Leonardo asked of her. The mere thought that he would suggest such a thing surprised her. Then, by the looks on the others’ faces, they were along with it too? Are they serious? “Do I look like a stripper to you?” There was a lot of attitude in her tone. When she asked, her head bounced as she placed her hands on her rocking hip. “You will when you jump on the pole.” The lizard lady glared at the young mutant. He took a step back. “I’m just saying.” “You’ll be fine.” Leo assured. “I’m a mutant.” She fired back. “And human, and you get the upper hand over Venus since she has a shell.” He pointed out. It was true. Mona would have an easier time explaining tail than a giant shell merged to her body if the question arose. “I'm also a minor?” This time, her voice was unsure in a last ditch effort. “But not by that much.” The leader smiled shyly. He was just as unsure as she was. Typical. A sickening feeling in her stomach visited when she took another look inside. Was she really going to do something like that? Putting herself out there like that, all eyes on her, was going to definitely be out of her comfort zone. Then, what was she going to do? Just the sound of the word ‘twerk’ made her cringe and this was a field where it was highlighted. The red clad terrapin took her gently by the arm. He pulled her back away from the door and spoke for her.

“If she doesn’t want to go, she doesn’t need to go.” Raphael argued. It was then Venus had a weird feeling. It started in her face as a current of electricity tickled her nose. The female turtle flared her nostrils briefly, but when it didn’t work, she used her arm to push it down. The feeling subsided some, but it was more comfortable than before. Paying back attention, she saw Donatello reach for Mona Lisa’s hand. Gentle and caring, his pulled it out of Raphael’s grasp. Mona wasn’t the one to be grabbed on, but she was too nervous that she let it happen. Also, who could turn away from those comforting eyes that kept her still?

“Just for a couple minutes so we know where Chapelin and Stockman are.” Donatello encouraged. He gave her hand a slow shake as if it would strengthen his grasp on her. “We’re right behind you.” Then, another hand took her free one. It was Michelangelo this time. She had to admit, behind her concerns, it was pretty cute that  the two youngest were trying to comfort the oldest of the group. “The world depends on this.” Venus spoke from behind Raphael. The combination of large brown and blue eyes followed by her sister’s reasoning was putting her own thoughts into overload. The lizard lady sighed, chewing on her bottom lip afterward. Mona removed her hand from the turtle boys’ grasp. “I’m going through the back.” She turned around bluntly. The lizard with a mission brushed past Raphael whose face contorted into multiple, frustrated scowls towards his team members. However, they were not concerned with him

“Whoa, wait up.” The turtle girl stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. Then, she cocked a brow and looked down on her. Mona’s eyes followed the hand that was outstretched to her. “Sports Bra.” She demanded. Repulsed by what she meant, her sister engulfed her chest in her arms defensively. “Venus!” “Hey, you have to sell it. Deception is the kunoichi’s true power, but those” The turtle girl pointed directly at her chest. “are a woman’s power.” Ugh! D**** social norms! It’ll be harder in the future, but this was a girl who couldn’t wait until a woman didn’t need to be sent out as an object for manipulation. Of course, she was trained for manipulating, but this was one aspect she liked to skip. “Fine.” When she pulled the cuff of her sleeve, the brothers looked away as she wriggled out of the tight contraption. They can tell she was really struggling with her disgruntled grunts. Or was that her being upset that she was actually doing this? “You want a world class stripper?” An unusual amount of confidence and baritone came out of the lizard lady. They were still looking away so they couldn’t see a ‘proud’ yet annoyed Mona Lisa put her arms up in a presenting fashion and walk away. “I’ll give you ‘Kinky Kunoichi’!”

Coming up beside them, the boys relaxed as Venus entered their circle. Mona had disappeared into the back. As promised, Venus looked down at her sister’s sports bra confided in her hand. She stared down on it like some type of trophy to get her sister out of her comfort zone successfully. Upon seeing it, Raphael shook his head and rocked his body. “I don’t like this.” “Just a couple minutes. Besides, Mona is a professional. She’s gonna squeeze information from that guy.” Donnie tried to make him feel somewhat better about the situation. Everyone knew Raphael was just as hard to get out of his comfort zone as the lizard lady. “Right after she gives him a lap dance.” Understandably irritated, the family’s eyes turned to glared at the unapologetic orange masked turtle. Shamelessly, his nose was back in the door and smiling at what he saw. The orange tails of his mask were abruptly pulled on. He forced himself not to utter anything as he was pulled back and up on his knees. Hovering over him, Raphael scowled sternly. “Not helping.” He whispered. Then, he dropped him, in which the bottom rim of his shell dug into his large calves. Pouting, Michelangelo muttered. “Should’ve just let me dress in drag and do the hula.” he offered. Donnie raised his brow in disapproval. “That’s an image no one deserves to see.” He commented. Michelangelo gave him a shrug. “Just trying to help.”