#cosmos’ mind is always full of chatter or music (usually both)

[holographic-mars]

Do you think when Soundwave is stressed out Cosmos leads him outside to to teach him out to dance in space?

ABSOLUTELYYYY YOURE TOTALLY COMPLETELY ANF ENTIRELY CORRECT

Soundwave’s outlier ability makes him incredibly sensitive to noise. Even though he’s mastered his ability, it’s still easy to get overwhelmed and overstimulated with the noises and thoughts of everyone around him when he’s stressed.

It took a while for Cosmos to kinda realize what’s going on (Sky-Byte just says he does this sometimes and Laserbeak and Buzzsaw say it’s none of his business), but after a while he was able to find out that Soundwave’s shutdowns and long disappearances was because of stress and sensory overload (he managed to bribe Frenzy into telling him. Apparently it happens sometimes and usually Ravage could calm him down quick, but now she’s gone and Soundwave has to manage a whole space station by himself. The avians can calm him down, it just takes longer and leaves Soundwave a lot more tired).

So, After a particularly stressful day, Cosmos finds soundwave by himself trying to manage his stress (poorly), and Cosmos has an idea. He leads Soundwave to the airlock and asks him to trust him, and take them outside of the station.

It’s better out here, soundwave could still feel the noise from the station as they stand on the edge but he can feel himself calming down now that he’s away from the noise. Cosmos quietly hums to himself and squeezes Soundwave’s hand in a calming, rhythmic squeeze-and-release.

After a minute or so, Cosmos takes both of Soundwave’s hands and again asks him to trust him, before lightly launching them off of the station. In an instinctive spike of panic, Soundwave activates his trusters and clings tighter (closer) to cosmos but cosmos just laughs and leads them into a short spin before angling his own thrusters to a stop. Confused, but willing to trust Cosmos (and he is willing. He’ll trust cosmos with his spark if cosmos asked) soundwave cuts his own thrusters off. With just cosmos’ weight and the occasional quick jet of thrusters to steady themselves, they’re floating aimlessly.

No longer touching the station, everything is totally quiet. The noise is gone completely—only the gentle sound of the mechanisms in Cosmos’ frame and the bouncy loop of music in Cosmos’ processor remains.

Soundwave is not used to the total silence of space the way cosmos is (no fighting, no shooting, no chattering) so he’s nearly in awe of the peace of it all.

Cosmos laughs again. Soundwave can feel it reverberating through his frame from where they’re connected. The music Cosmos is repeating in his mind switches to a more subtle tune. He adjusts his grip on Soundwave’s arms and leads them into another light spin, moving and dipping with the music in his processor.

Soundwave follows along as best he can but ultimately lets Cosmos lead. Cosmos is happy to do so, Soundwave seems to have calmed down and his EM field is light with warm amusement and poorly hidden adoration.

They stay out there for as long as they can before the cassettes get sick of watching the gooey gross lovey dovey stuff and make them come back inside.

AIFJF THIS TOOK SO LONG TO ANSWER IM SORRY IM SORRY 💔💔 I was so busy and tired I just. Didn’t get around to it until now thank you for your patience :33 also sorry this became an almost-fic bc I am sick and ill THANK YOU FOR THE ASKK HEEHEHE❤️❤️❤️🛸🛸🛸🎵🎵🎵

[artificialqueens]

Or The Thought Of You? (A’Whora/Joe Black) - Juno

Summary: Aurora has a chance encounter with the singer in the bar which leaves her wanting more.

I hope you like this slightly late submission for the rarepair songfic challenge! The song in question is Nightwish’s Slow Love Slow.

For once Aurora was early.

It gave her time to take in the optics of the bar she sat at, warm amber light that illuminated the deep mahogany finishing, sophistication clinging to it and to the air. There were so many bottles of spirits in the back behind the bar, spirits with names she could barely think of how to pronounce. On the stage, a live band played soft jazz music - a piano, a double bass, a cello - with gentle precision that was just distinguishable over the delicate chatter of everyone around her.

The clientele, evidently from another era, Aurora was surrounded by a sea of form-fitting Donna Karan dresses and Rolex watches. Aurora thought she looked like she blended in, at least in appearance, in the long black dress with the slit up the leg and the patent black stilettos she’d ‘borrowed’ from her housemate, gold trim accentuated by her earrings, her hair still in its perfect shape.

But she stood out a mile because she was early , or maybe the other two were just late . Leaving her on her own, alight like a lighthouse or so she felt.

When Tia had suggested this place one lunch break, it had been a half-hearted joke, too posh for them and full of rich folks, but then Lawrence had piped up that she’d always wondered what it was like inside, so now all three of them were come down for the night, along with Tia’s flatmate Tayce. It sounded like a laugh. Live cabaret, posh drinks, and unpronounceable cocktails on the enormous menu with tiny writing that Aurora had in her hands right now.

The barman came to Aurora eventually, and she ordered herself a cosmo, the only one she recognised (even though she’d never tried one), enjoying watching the other bar staff shaking cocktail mixers as she waited, and when it was served to her on its own little napkin, Aurora felt like she’d fallen into a Bond film. Maybe she had.

For a split second she saw herself as a Bond girl, but the illusion was quickly shattered as she reached for the drink; it went flying, knocked across the bar by a hand, waved emphatically from a woman who had appeared on her right.

By some miracle Aurora seemed to have missed getting soaked, but her wrist was seized by a hand in a powder-blue opera glove and squeezed in condolence. Aurora was met by a pair of grey eyes, framed by pencil-thin eyebrows, and a peplum gown that matched her gloves in colour.

“I’m dreadfully sorry for that,” the woman said earnestly. “Let me get you another.”

Aurora was taken aback by how much this woman’s low but melodic voice made her scalp tingle. It made her want her to keep talking. But - is it … - Aurora inhaled when she realised. The blue gown with the white tuxedo embellishment, the quaffed red hair in victory rolls? She knew this person. She’d seen her before. She was plastered on the posters on the windows of this place, her name in that gilded-age font …

“Joe Black?”

Joe turned back to Aurora at her whisper of realisation, an impish smile spreading across her face at Aurora’s awed voice.

“In the flesh, darling!”

Joe threw back her head and cackled, a garish contrast to the silkiness of her voice. Aurora expected the clientele around her to stare, but no one batted an eyelid at her outburst.

“You - you’re -“

“Short?” Joe giggled, leaning closer to Aurora and dropping her voice lower. “I get that one all the time. That’s all people say to me when they see me. ‘ Oh, Joe, I thought you’d be much taller!’ ”

“No - I mean, you’re -“

But Aurora’s words vanished as the barman scurried over with Aurora’s new drink, and what looked like the same thing in the same Martini glass for Joe. Joe curled her fingers around the stem of the glass with delicate precision, swiveling on her stool to face Aurora dead on.

“Here’s to …” Joe shook her head and waved a hand dismissively, “… I don’t know, Glenn Close. First person that came to mind.” And she smirked, before raising her glass to cheers with Aurora and then to her lips, her eyes holding Aurora’s as she did the same.

Aurora almost choked on her sip as Joe continued to drink, until she had almost drained the glass, licking her lips and sighing contentedly.

“What the -“

“It’s my usual, darling. Don’t worry! It’s only water!” Joe threw back her head and laughed again. “You wouldn’t think I’d want any liquid courage before taking my place on stage, would you? Ah, no - the old Joe Black, now - she was a bit of a boozy cow, but nowadays, it doesn’t do one’s reputation any good to be plastered before your first song!”

The odd lyrical quality to her voice made Aurora convinced she was putting on a character, but she couldn’t deny that she found Joe’s eccentricity utterly fascinating, found herself being drawn towards her aura.

“Why don’t you order just a normal glass then?” Aurora asked, not even trying to hold back her amused smile.

“Well, because - I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t catch your name.”

Joe had shuffled her stool closer to her now, resting a gloved hand on top of Aurora’s where it lay at the base of the Martini glass.

“Aurora.”

“Ah. As in Borealis.” Joe let out an exaggerated sigh, her eyes misting as if with memories. “A thing of glory. Illuminating the Arctic skies. Did you know that they can come as far south as here? Well, not Brighton,” she added with a wry smile, “but here in a broad sense.”

“I - no?”

“Well anyway, Aurora - I would order water in a plain tall glass, but I do like the martini glasses, gives it an air of splendour. Matches my style. After all, why would I want to shatter any illusions? No one here seems to want to have their illusions shattered, don’t you think?”

Joe gestured to the people around them, none of whom were looking at them, all in their own worlds with those around them, the chatter and the music threading between them all.

“It’s all an illusion, isn’t it? This space here, all these people, they’re all on their own stages. All their own performers. Even you!” Joe winked. “Life is a stage, we’re the actors.”

Aurora blinked in wonder, rendered speechless. But something about Joe still fascinated her. Aurora took another drag of the cosmo, her tongue loosening more and more.

“What’s your excuse then? Is this all an act too? Is Joe Black just an act?”

Joe just chuckled, the sound deep in her throat sounding a little sinister, and Aurora watched as finger by finger, Joe slid the opera glove off her left arm, revealing more tattoos than Aurora would have ever thought, all the way down her arm and onto her fingers.

“Maybe the patrons of the establishment wouldn’t care if they saw their cabaret act in tattoos, but the illusion that I’m a proper lady singing jazz atop a grand piano apparently needs to be an illusion in itself. Although the management didn’t say I couldn’t use my David Bowie dress, especially if it’s Bowie I’m singing.”

Joe was nudging the tips of Aurora’s fingers with the tips of her own, smiling through her eyelashes, her eyes full of mischief.

Aurora found herself slightly tongue-tied, but her voice came back to her eventually. “Did they hurt? The ones on your hand? I wanted to get one there, but my friend says they hurt a lot more than what they’re worth and they never stay too long.”

Stupid question, Aurora.

“They feel like having your hands dipped in warm honey, darling.”

Aurora frowned. “Really?”

“No, not really.” Joe cackled. “They all bloody hurt! But beauty is always pain.”

“Not always,” Aurora protested. “I’m not in pain.”

“Indeed,” Joe said softly, and Aurora felt her thumb slide into the palm of her hand. “Look me in the eyes and tell me those shoes aren’t killing you.”

Aurora met her eyes, triumphant. “My feet are fine. Thank you very much.”

“Really?” Aurora could feel Joe’s thumb on a tender spot in the centre of her palm, one that made the rest of her hand tingle. “I’m not convinced. Body language. These sorts of things give people away, you see, in a way that speaking will not. And really, the body language of everyone here?”

Joe’s eyes glittered, wicked and smug. Aurora was still acutely aware of the sensation of Joe’s thumb on her palm, responding by curling her fingers around Joe’s, and as she leaned closer, Aurora found herself frozen as Joe’s lips found her ear, her voice a slow whisper, sending another tingle down from her scalp down her spine, causing her to shudder.

“Everyone’s faking it, darling!”

And with that cackle, right at the back of her throat, Joe let Aurora’s hand go, drained the rest of the water from the Martini glass, and sauntered away from the bar, swinging her hips exaggeratedly, her laughter floating away behind her, but Aurora noticed that no one else turned to look at her.

It was almost as if she wasn’t even there. Aurora was left staring after her, shuddering again, her skin suddenly warm and tingly …

“A’Whora! Wakey wakey, eggs and bloody bakey!” Tayce was snapping her fingers under Aurora’s nose before Aurora noticed that she’d appeared, brows furrowed; and Tia behind her had tilted her head to one side.

“What’s bitten you, Aurora? You looked as if you’ve seen a ghost!”

Aurora blinked, her eyes darting between them both. “You - you saw her, right?”

“Who?” Tayce turned once to the direction Aurora looked, before whipping her head back to face her. “You feeling alright? How many did you have while you were waiting for us?”

“Shut up!” Aurora giggled, giving Tayce a gentle shove, which was reciprocated with a gleeful chuckle. “Where’s Lawrence?”

“Just went to the loo.” Tia pointed. “She’d better hurry up, she’s gonna miss the beginning!”

The lights were dimming. All eyes and all attention was turning to the stage, a hush developing around the bar and the room, as the sound of heels on the wooden stage drew nearer.

The crowd clapped politely as Joe Black came on, beaming down at them all, her smile wide and glorious. She paused to toss one of the victory rolls from her shoulder, before wrapping her fingers around the microphone stand and putting her lips millimetres from it.

“Good evening. I hope you are all having a wonderful time tonight. I am Joe Black, and this is my … microcosm of wonder.”

And even just the greeting, the low deep voice, was enough for tingles to spread down from the base of Aurora’s scalp once again.

“Is that the ghost you saw, Rory?” Tayce teased. “Because she doesn’t look like one from here!”

But before Aurora could say a word, the pianist hit the first note of Life On Mars, and the whole room was mesmerised by her. Not a soul spoke, not a whisper, just Joe commanding the stage, quiet but enrapturing at once.

Maybe not a ghost, but there was definitely something … otherworldly about her.

Aurora craved more.