Taken by the Power of You

Written for the prompt: Singing along to the same radio station in separate cars with the windows open AU

Who knew that singing an impromptu duet with another random guy stuck in traffic was a great way to score a date? (1k)

A/N: The song they sing is “All Heaven Broke Loose” by REO Speedwagon and you can listen to it here, which I recommend doing!

[AO3]

All heaven broke loose… It hit me like a shot right out of the blue…” Dean sang along happily to the radio as the opening of one of his favorite songs started playing on the radio, even adding the drumbeat on the steering wheel of his ’67 Chevy Impala. It was Friday afternoon and he was headed home after work, and nothing could ruin his good mood, not even the standstill traffic he was stuck in due to an accident farther up the road.

All heaven broke loose… I was shaken by the power of love…” He paused, completely still, then– “Taken by the power of you…” He held the note, moving his body in time with the music. The windows in the front were rolled down and he was sure anyone with their windows down in the cars nearby could hear his impromptu concert, but he didn’t care. He danced along with the instrumental section until the first verse started.

If I don’t get to heaven…” he sang. “For the things that I’ve done… I guess it’s all just history now… Too late to be the innocent one…” As he was singing, he suddenly realized he wasn’t alone. Someone else was singing along with him. He glanced around and quickly spotted the guy in the car next to him, windows down as well, singing along to the same station and staring right at Dean with a slight smirk on his face. Surprised, Dean stopped singing, but the guy continued the verse.

I know that I’ve been led astray…” the guy sang. “Love has torn me apart…” He gave Dean a wink. “But each day is a victory now… Since you have given peace to my heart…” He grinned at Dean, and Dean finally found his voice again, joining in for the bridge.

Ohhh-oh-oh-oh-ohhh,” they sang together, and then just the other guy, “I was a little bit crazy then…” Dean took a turn – “Wheels kept turnin’ around” – then the other guy – “And I kept losin’ ground.” They came back together – “’Til you stopped me from fallin’ again. And all heaven broke loose…” They had each pointed at the other, trying to keep straight faces as they headed straight into the chorus. “It hit me like a shot right out of the blue… All heaven broke loose… I was shaken by the power of love… I was taken by the power of you…

By now Dean had completely forgotten he was sitting in the middle of traffic, wholly engrossed in this unconventional duet as he started the second verse. “Now you’ve been my salvation… Been a love with no cost… Brought me to my senses again… Gave me back more than I’ve ever lost…

He let the other guy take over as they continued performing the song with each other, to each other. “So, baby, if I lose my way… If temptation goes to my head… It’s only a twist in the road… There’s no way that I’ll be misled…

It was back to the bridge. “Ohhh-oh-oh-oh-ohhh.” Dean took the next line this time, “I was a little bit crazy then.” The other guy sang next – “But I’ll pay the price” – and Dean joined him, “For my fool’s paradise… Now I’ve just got to hold you again… All heaven broke loose…

They were both completely into it now. “It hit me like a shot right out of the blue… All heaven broke loose… We were shaken by the power of love… Taken by the power!

Dean belted the next section like he was performing for a thousand people instead of just two. “The love that you’ve given me… Is a love that is true…” He was joined again by the other guy. “And each time I feel like running… I come running home to you, yeah!

He added in a little air guitar before they came back together for the ending. “Whoa-oh-oh-ohhh-oh-oh-ohhh…” Their voices slid through the notes in unison. “We were a little bit crazy then… All heaven broke loose… It hit me like a shot right out of the blue… All heaven broke loose… We were shaken by the power of love…

All heaven broke loose… We couldn’t stop feelin’, no, no, no… All heaven broke loose… Oh no, no, no, no, no…” The two men weren’t even pretending like they weren’t singing to each other anymore. They didn’t know each other, but they were both putting their all into the song.

All heaven broke loose… Taken by the power of you… It hit me like a shot right out of the blue… All heaven broke loose… Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no…

The song faded out and Dean was suddenly aware of his surroundings as he heard clapping coming from a few other cars around them. He blushed, letting out a breathless laugh, but only had eyes for this mystery guy in his admittedly kind of crappy Lincoln Continental who was laughing along with him as the radio announcer droned on, “REO Speedwagon, ladies and gentleman, that was ‘All Heaven Broke Loose.’ Up next we’ve got some Bob Seger for you…”

As the opening chords of ‘Against the Wind’ began to play, Dean leaned over the front seat to get closer to the window. “Hey, I’m Dean,” he called to the other man. “I think we could go professional with that!” he added jokingly.

“Castiel,” the other man replied, laughing before continuing, “Definitely, though we’d need to expand our repertoire.” He waited a second, then added, “Care to join me for dinner and plan a set list?” Blue eyes gazed in anticipation at Dean, who nodded.

“Sure,” he called. “There’s a little place called the Roadhouse, just take a right at the next light and it’ll be on the left. Meet you there when traffic starts moving?”

“It’s a date,” Castiel said with a grin.


Four years later, the two of them reprised their performance at their wedding reception, bringing everyone into hysterics as the two men sang and acted out the entire song just like they’d done the first time in lieu of a first dance.

Mermaid festa vol.2 ~Passionate~
  • Mermaid festa vol.2 ~Passionate~
  • Honoka Kousaka/Rin Hoshizora
  • Mermaid festa vol.2 ~Passionate~
Play

Mermaid festa vol.2 ~Passionate~ | Honoka Kousaka & Rin Hoshizora

I don’t want to forget every new day
I hope if you can keep this secret kiss
Is it too early? Is it good even if only a little?
Fruits are thorny so be careful

anonymous asked:

Hi, I know a soul mate prompt has been done before, but instead of sharing scars how about the first words they say to one another; and because Claire is a nurse she has grown jaded to her phrase cause she heard it often enough because of her job so it doesn't click when Jamie says it.

Chapter 1 of 6 for a reincarnation/soulmate AU called Duet.


Don’t you dare do that!You have to get the bone of the upper arm at the proper angle before it will slip back into joint,” I said, grunting as I pulled the wrist up and the elbow in. The young man was sizable; his arm was heavy as lead.

“This is the worst part,” I warned the patient. I cupped the elbow, ready to whip it upward and in.

His mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “It canna hurt much worse than it does. Get on wi’ it.

Outlander

“I will find you,” he whispered in my ear, “I promise.”

Dragonfly in Amber


UN (Paris, France – April 1829)

The girls at Madame Hilde’s knew Sunday was bad for business. Not because the men weren’t interested in sex – when was sex not on the male conscious? – but because the Sabbath made them exceedingly selfish. Sequestered in their homes for the two days prior – and with little relief from wifely hovering – Hilde’s clients thought of nothing but their own sexual pleasure. La Soif Dimanche, Hilde called it. The Sunday Thirst.

But this desperation was precisely the problem. So bursting with need, Sunday’s patrons had no attention for small-talk or pleasantries. And they were certainly not of the mind for post-coital politicking.

Thus, while the girls’ purses might clink with the day’s wages, their efforts would be for naught, their true business gone unaccomplished. If their legs opened, but their clients’ mouths stayed shut, then the day was a veritable failure.

Sex at Madame Hilde’s was not business. Sex was war. Their clients might call them “whores” and the government might call them “traitors”, but the girls at Madame Hilde’s were warriors, first and foremost.

That was their business. Revolution, rebellion.

“Remember this, mesdemoiselles!” Madame Hilde always said. “A man may spill himself inside you, but it is you who plants the seed. He will water it with his lust, and you will reap its sow: liberté, égalité, fraternité!”

So it was no surprise that Claire Beauchamp had been dreading her Sunday appointment. There would be no stroll through the Tuileries today, no picnic beneath the mulberries with a fresh punnet of des fraises. Instead, Claire was up at dawn and in the throes of debate: which bustier would best accentuate her assets? Which would inspire easy revelation (him) but necessitate as little degradation possible (her)? The black, Claire thought. Less obvious, more suggestive than the red – and she was in no mood for anything but suggestions today.

Hilde had knocked on her door the night before, come bearing “the most fortunate news!” Fortunate, in this instance, had been entirely subjective, for the announcement of said news spoiled all plans for a peaceful, solitary Sunday.

“Monsieur Sandringham! Tu te souviens de lui?”

Claire had groaned into her pillow – “Oui” – and added with a whisper, “Prick the size of a gherkin.”

“He asks that you visit his home ce matin. He still fears being seen at my establishment – reputations and such.”

“What’s to say he knows anything? Last time was a bloody waste,” Claire had whined. “And I’ll be damned if he’s not riddled with venereal disease!”

Hilde sighed, smiling.

“Oh, ma petite medecin. Save your diagnoses for when you are paid to give them. You will make him talk. You are good at that, n’est ce pas?”

Indeed, Claire was – and such was the very reason Hilde provided room and board at no expense.

Newly-divorced, 22-year old Claire had fled the shadows of marital scandal, believing the English Channel might wash her slate clean. Unfortunately, this slate had supplied no food, money, or shelter once she arrived in Paris. It was only by chance that Madame Hilde had discovered her at la boulangerie one morning, deftly manipulating its owner for free bread.

Claire remembered the day, vividly: the tinkling bell; the tall, avian woman with watchful eyes. A crooking finger and a gravely but warm voice saying:

Vous, mademoiselle. Je vois un feu en vous. Vous viendrez avec moi.”

And how could Claire refuse? She’d had nowhere else to go, ate little, and wore rags. And while there would be no riches at the end of this story, there were at least the sanctuary and stability she’d been lacking.

It had been three months since she’d joined Hilde’s ranks, and the madame’s instincts had served the establishment well: Claire was requested more than most, tipped generously, and always laden with secrets upon her return. She had a knack for persuasion, and a talent for doctoring that proved invaluable whenever disease struck. She treated all of Hilde’s girls’ illnesses, cautioned them against certain practices, and taught them the basics of personal hygiene. And then she would slink off to her appointments, tongue like the forceps she used so well, and extract information from her clients. Vive la Revolution!

Fleetingly, Claire would laugh at the irony. So she’d been cleansed by the Channel – but then what? The minute her feet touched ground at Le Havre, she’d plunged herself into a pot of scalding-hot water, all lies and rebellion. To think what Frank would make of her now…

The sun hung just above the Sacré-Cœur when she stepped outside. Picking her way along the sidewalk, she noticed the street urchin was in his usual place, hunched surreptitiously beneath the eaves of la patisserie. She rummaged inside her pockets for a spare bit of change, fingers lighting on yesterday’s earnings. She removed two coins as she approached, and the boy’s face stretched into a smile at the offering.

“Mademoiselle Claire!” he cried. He caught the money when she tossed it. “You look very well today.”

“As do you, Claudel.” Claire motioned to his ensemble with an encompassing wave of the hand. “And what game are we playing at this week?”

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