#long cool woman (in a black dress)

[maximumcollectorgardenerposts]

Gal Gadot (Wonder Woman)

[inspire-par-la-musique]

Hollies - Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress (w/ lyrics)

[howardhawkshollywoodmusic]

34. Long Cool Woman (In a Black Dress) by The Hollies debuted Jun 72 and peaked at number two, scoring 1222 points.

This is a rare Hollies song without three part harmonies. Allan Clarke is the only voice on the record. When the group's producer called in sick, the group produced the record themselves. Allan said the song was written in about five minutes. Allan based his vocals on John Fogerty with Creedence Clearwater Revival.

Is that Marc Bolan of T Rex doing the introduction on the telly?

[egoschwank]

al things considered — when i post my masterpiece #1264

first posted in facebook february 2, 2024

utagawa toyohiro -- "woman cooling herself" (ca. 1800)

"a young woman in a sheer kimono sits on a bamboo bench alongside a pond, fanning herself to allay the summer heat. she has kicked off one of her geta sandals, and bent her left leg into a relaxed pose" … the met [painting description]

"i've gotta be forgiven if i wanna spend my living with a long cool woman in a black dress just a 5'9 beautiful tall yeah, with just one look i was a bad mess cause that long cool woman had it all had it all had it all" … allan clarke, roger greenaway & roger cook

"when i heard that woman sing a song … she had it AL had it AL had it AL" … al janik

[eyebagsanonymous]

Sharp Dressed Man by ZZ Top and Long Cool Woman (In A Black Dress) by The Hollies are dating and they are such a power couple.

[sharnefarn]

The most CCR song not by CCR.

[culturevulturette]

Saturday night I was downtown Working for the FBI Sittin' in a nest of bad men Whiskey bottles piling high...

[elliewithcellie]

Long Cool Woman - Chapter 1

chapter summary: You entered the hunting life against your will, but your father's friend Bobby Singer is there to watch over you (eventual Sam x reader)

wc: 4.1k

cw: spn canon violence, language?, many deaths, fem!reader, reader sustains major injuries

a/n: consider this an origin story. Find the rest of the story here

You woke up to the creak of your door, an inch of light shining across your face. With blurred vision, you jerked up from bed, swinging your fists at the silhouetted man approaching you.

“Hey, hey. It’s me. It’s Sam,” Sam said. He grabbed a hold of your arms and brought them down to your lap. “You’re ok.”

Your eyes adjusted and your breathing slowed. You rested your head on Sam as you caught your breath. “Sorry,” you whispered.

“Same one?”

You nodded against his chest.

Sam swept the damp hair from your forehead. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head. “It’s the same as always. Nothing much to it.”

“Well, I’m here if you need me. We’re leaving in thirty, ok?”

“Got it.”

As Sam left your room, you slid out of bed. Your bare feet found the cold cement floor, your steps the only sound to echo against the walls. You grabbed your towel and some clothes and headed out the door toward the shower.

You stayed intentional about the thoughts in your head. As the water splashed against your skin, you took deep breaths. But the silence was haunting. This reoccurring nightmare weighed you down like a shadow, always present in the light, and all-consuming in the darkness. You didn’t want to think about it. You didn’t have the time. You had work to do.

You dried yourself off and dressed in your usual attire. You returned to your room, hung up your towel, and packed some clothes, before heading out the door.

You met the boys in the library. Sam packed books while Dean double-checked that the weapons were all primed and prepared. You sat beside them, your mind wandering.

“We ready?” Dean asked, snapping you from your daze. The two of them already had their duffle bags pulled over their shoulders, with Sam holding yours out toward you.

“Yeah, sorry. Let’s go,” you said. The three of you walked to the garage, packed the things into the Impala, and set out without any further delay. 

You sat in the backseat, flashes of your midnight terrors refusing to fade away. Today would be one of your rough days, you began to realize.

*****

You weren’t always this anxious. Before you met the boys, your life was normal: a mom, a dad, and a little brother. You all were a very tight-knit family. With no extended family, you only had each other. And it was all you needed.

Then the accident happened.

Your family was doing what they always did: travel; this time, to California. The drive was normal. Road trip games, singing, the occasional bickering; everything to be expected when a long straight road was the only view for hours. You were reading when it happened. The car swerved off the road and flipped into the median.

You woke up in the hospital the following morning, choking on the breathing tube in your throat. The stationed nurse pulled the tube out and ran to get the doctor. The nurse returned with the doctor and a man in a flannel shirt and a trucker hat. As the doctor checked your vitals, you couldn’t help but notice the man sitting in the back. He wore a look of guilt, almost refusing to make eye contact with you.

“Sorry—” you interrupted, “—who are you?”

Your voice didn’t feel like your own. It was hoarse and pained you to use, but you needed to know.

The doctor stopped and stepped back. All eyes were on the man now. He took a breath and stood up, slowly approaching you.

“I’m Bobby,” he said. His voice was gruff, but his eyes stayed soft and sincere. “I—I used to be a friend of your father’s.”

He removed his hat, releasing his frizzy, gray hair. His hands fiddled with the rim of his hat. He looked down again.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

You watched the man crumble his hat and look up at the doctor.

The doctor spoke first. “I’m very sorry, but your family didn’t survive the accident. We did everything we could. I’m sorry.”

“I—” The words were not registering. “That’s impossible. What does that mean? I—I—you don’t know what you’re talking about.” You felt yourself getting angry as tears formed in your eyes. “No, no, no. You’re lying. You’re lying!”

The dam broke, and you sobbed into your hands. The doctor and Bobby stood by your side as you cried. You cried and cried, the only sound filling the room. You felt your lungs getting tighter and your breaths shorter. You began panicking, thoughts and fears flooding your mind, and a single memory: black eyes.

The doctor soothed you down and gave you a sleeping pill to rest. You woke again to Bobby asleep in the chair you had met him in. The pain from the accident began to kick in. You felt weak and tired. So tired. You let out a feeble cough, accidentally stirring Bobby.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“Nonsense.” He stood up and dragged the chair to your bedside. “How’re you feelin’, kiddo?”

“Why are you here?”

He sighed. “I’m here to take you home. I mean to my neck of the woods. When you’re ready of course. I don’t mean to startle you. I know we haven’t met, but your dad asked me to be guardian in case. And I know you’ll be 18 soon, so it doesn’t have to be long, but you’re not completely alone, ok?”

It was a lot to take in. And yet, a wave of peace washed over you as you listened to him. You couldn’t explain it, but you could tell he was good. And if your dad believed in Bobby, you were willing to give him a chance, too.

For the next few days, Bobby came by to sit with you, watching daytime television and pushing you in a wheelchair for little walks. Bobby wasn’t one to talk, which you appreciated. You didn’t want to talk, but he was always there.

Then it was finally time to leave. You were a little nervous, not ready to leave, and not ready to admit they were gone. Bobby helped you into his pickup truck, and with a deep breath from you both, you headed to your new home.

Bobby pulled up to a dirt road with an archway that said “Singer Auto Salvage” in mismatched metallic letters. Hundreds of beat-up cars littered each side of the road, some with more hope than others. He parked next to a ragged, wooden house with siding peeling down and the roof slightly caving in.

“Home, sweet home,” he muttered. “I know it’s not much, but it has cable and Wi-Fi.”

You gave a small smile, and the two of you walked in.

The inside wasn’t much better than the outside, but it had the necessities: a couch, an armchair, and a TV. In the next room, hundreds if not thousands of books lined the walls, with paper disorganized along the floor. Some had pictures you had never seen, but you were too exhausted to care.

Bobby led you to the kitchen and pulled a chair out for you. He opened the fridge and placed a sandwich in front of you.

“Dig in,” he said with a smile on his face. You gladly accepted, suddenly realizing how hungry you were.

When you finished eating, Bobby jumped up from the table. “You wanna see your room, now?”

You nodded. You followed him up the stairs and down a hallway. “Here we are.”

He opened the door. Inside were things from your old room. Your books sat on top of a wooden desk, and your clothes hung nicely in the wardrobe in the corner. The bed had clean sheets, a quilt on top, and a blanket neatly folded at the edge of the bed.

“You did this for me?” you asked.

“Just wanted you to feel comfortable is all.”

You wandered around your new room, in awe of everything he put together for you.

“I’ll let you be, now. Just know I’m the room across from yours if you need anything, but I’m usually in my chair downstairs.” He chuckled. “Oh, and the bathroom’s on the right, so, there you go.”

You circled around and hugged Bobby. “Thank you,” you whispered.

“You got it, kiddo.”

You didn’t return to school. You ached for weeks after the accident, usually sleeping the day away. You’d wake up to a knock on your door as the sun set, a sandwich usually behind it.

The nights were worse. Images of your family haunted your dreams. You couldn’t help but replay the crash over and over in your mind. But, truly, the one thing you couldn’t shake: the memory of black eyes. You couldn’t figure out why you kept seeing them. Everything happened so fast. It must have been a dream. You were disoriented. But the feeling of dread never rescinded from your body.

Two months had passed, and you had healed. You felt comfortable enough to walk downstairs and sit with Bobby while he watched TV. Rarely a word was spoken between the two of you. You sat comfortably in the silence. There was no pressure, no expectation to perform for Bobby. With the weight lifted, you felt safe to speak.

“Have you –” you cleared your throat. “Have you always lived alone?”

Bobby chuckled. “I figured you’d wanna know about me sooner or later. I used to have a wife. Prettiest girl, she was.”

“What was she like?”

“Oh, my girl? Aw, I don’t wanna bore you.”

You positioned yourself on the couch to face Bobby, folding your legs up to your chest.

“Oh, man. Well, she had a smile that could change lives. A flash of her smile could put any heart at ease. And she had a laugh that was like music spreading from room to room. She’d cackle, you know, at the littlest things. And you’d be silly not to join in. She was captivating that way.

“You’d know she was home, too. I’d walk in from work, and she’d just be humming. She would hum all the time, melodies that I’d never heard and never cared to investigate. It was how I knew she was in a good mood.

“Oh, and she’d bake. Pies of all kinds. We got an apple tree in the yard, so I guess that was most common. And fine by me. She’d fret about having too much of this and not enough that, but each slice was sent from heaven itself. We’d have all these pies just lyin’ around, and since it was just the two of us, they couldn’t all be eaten.”

“Did you guys ever want kids?” you asked.

The nostalgic look on Bobby’s face turned to one of longing. “Wasn’t in the cards for us, I suppose. But I know, she woulda loved having you here.”

You shared a small smile.

A knock interrupted the serenity of the conversation. Again, Bobby’s eyes changed. “Upstairs. Now.”

Without a second thought, you obeyed. You practically jogged up the steps and closed your door behind you, your lungs stretching for air. You sat in your bed motionless until you heard footsteps nearing your door. Then a knock.

“All clear,” Bobby said. “Come out if you’re ready.” His voice returned to his soft demeanor, an abrupt switch from before.

You returned downstairs where Bobby greeted you with a sandwich.

Over the next few months, the two of you grew fond of each other. More conversations took place, and a rhythm developed. Meals together by the TV became a tradition, and you felt yourself smiling more. You felt like a person again. You were beginning to sleep again, the thoughts and fears pushed to the back of your mind.

But then someone would knock again. You’d be sent to your room in a hurry, not a sound to be heard from you. Sometimes, you’d press your ear to the door or the floorboards. Sometimes, you heard other men talking and thuds on the floor. Sometimes, there was anger. Sometimes, there were sounds that you had never heard before. But there was always silence at the end. Always an emptiness that crawled its way up to the second floor. It always sent chills up your spine. And there was always a knock on your door to inform you that “the coast is clear”.

It was your 18th birthday, something you didn’t want to make a fuss over, but Bobby remembered anyway. He surprised you with bacon and eggs for breakfast and a gift bag on the table.

“Bobby, why’d you—”

“Eighteen! It’s a big day! Open it up! Open it!” He pushed the bag closer.

You lifted the paper out and felt around for the gift. You pulled out a picture frame of you and Bobby in his truck that you had taken on his phone.

“Maybe I’m just sentimental, but I thought it was a nice picture of us, so I got it framed. I hope that’s alright.” Bobby’s face turned red at his words.

“I love it.” You beamed. “Thank you.”

You reached out and hugged Bobby. He tensed at the touch, eventually relaxing into it.

“Alright, kiddo, eat up. I got some movies lined up I think you’ll like. I have one more surprise for later.”

You had settled into the couch, trying to follow along to The Caine Mutiny, when someone knocked. You knew the drill, but your heart pounded just as quickly as every other time. You ran upstairs before Bobby could say a word.

You found yourself tearing up. You hated when these days happened. It was your day. It terrified you to think what could be taking place on the floor beneath you. You sulked in your room. But something in your soul told you to peek this time. You tried to fight it; you really did. But you should have fought harder.

With the utmost grace and care, you opened the door. The voices were more distinct now. Three new men had entered the house, all yelling – almost screaming – over each other. You snuck over to the top of the steps, trekking down with caution. You saw Bobby leaning on his wall of books, frantically flipping through pages. A young man read aloud from another book, reciting something you were sure wasn’t English. In the center of the room sat a man tied to a chair, screaming up at a fourth young man, who threatened the man in the chair in return.

A shudder ran down your spine. You shook your head in disbelief at what you were seeing. For a moment, you saw something you had repressed all those months ago. The man in the chair’s eyes flickered black. You began to panic. The back door was directly to your right. You knew whatever was happening was going to happen to you next. You had to get out.

In a mad dash, you sprinted for the door. You didn’t wait for it to slam behind you as you ran with no destination in mind. All you knew was that you couldn’t stay there.

You found the main road and withered to a walk. Tears welled in your eyes. You liked Bobby. You had grown to trust him. But it looked like you had to care for yourself, now. Some birthday.

The rain fell without a warning. The setting sky and your soaked skin forced chills from you, your teeth chattering uncontrollably. Tears joined the rain, your heart breaking in grief again. You felt more alone than your mind could fully comprehend.

The first car you had seen in miles pulled up behind you, Bobby’s old pickup truck.

“Please, get in the car. I’ll explain everything. Just please, you’ll get sick like this!”

“Go to hell!” you yelled.

“I know what you saw was crazy. Hell, I still think it’s goddamn insane! But let’s talk!”

“Go. To. Hell.”

Bobby sighed. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, and his eyebrows furrowed together. He parked his car in the street. “I know you’re scared. I also know you don’t have to listen to me. You’re 18, now. You’re free to go, and I can’t stop you if that’s what you want. I’ve wanted to protect you from this for so long, but I should have known.”

You thought for a moment. “I just have one question.”

“Anything.”

“Did that man in there…did he have black eyes?” You shuddered at your own words.

“You saw them?”

That was all the confirmation you needed for your world to cave in. You stumbled off the pavement, desperate to find balance.

“Y/N?”

You worked your way over to the truck, determined to know the truth once and for all.

“What do you know about black eyes?”

“Always straight to it,” Bobby sighed. “What do you know?”

“I—” You weren’t sure you should continue. You knew you’d sound crazy, but what you’d seen was far crazier. “In the crash, I can’t explain it. I saw black eyes. I can’t trace them. The accident was too fast. But I’ve seen those eyes over and over, Bobby. But it had to be a dream… or a nightmare. It had to be, right?”

Bobby stayed silent as if only to contemplate your words, listening carefully.

“But I saw them again” you continued. “In that guy you tied up. Why was that guy tied up? What haven’t you been telling me?”

Bobby took a deep breath. “It’s time we had a long talk.”

Bobby then told you everything as he drove you back home. Monsters were real. Ghosts, werewolves, and demons, what he and “The Winchesters” were exorcising in the living room earlier. He explained that your dad used to hunt with Bobby but met your mom and left the “hunter life”. Your dad never wanted his family to fall back into this and did everything he could to stop it. But it caught back up with him.

Bobby ushered you back into his home. The silence swelled against the walls, juxtaposing the earlier events. The memories remained, however, flooding your senses and manifesting in chills.

“And I only wanted to protect you like your father’s wishes,” Bobby said as you both walked upstairs to your room. He seemed close to tears, defeated. “I just want you to know that what you saw was real. And I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe if you let me.”

You completely forgot. This was up to you, now. It was your call to make. “I need some time,” you said.

“Of course. I understand. Take all the time you need. I’ll be downstairs.” He stood up and closed the door behind him.

After reflecting on all the information you were given, you couldn’t take it anymore. You were scared out of your mind and didn’t know what to do about it. You needed help. You climbed out of bed and headed for the kitchen.

There you found Bobby attempting to make a pie.

“What’s that for?” you asked.

“It was supposed to be a surprise.” Bobby’s head hung low. “It’s still your birthday.”

Your gaze softened, your heart relaxing as well. “Can I help?”

Bobby’s eyes brightened. He fought the smile forming on his face. “Go wash your hands.”

The next several years were devoted to learning the trade. You eventually read every book in that house, soaking up all the knowledge you could. There was no more time to waste. You had to be prepared.

Sometimes, the Winchesters would knock their never-expected knock, and you still returned to your room, as nothing good ever happened when the boys arrived. Lately, Bobby took trips with the boys. He never explained why, but he always promised to be back before you knew it. He’d ask Sheriff Mills to drop in on you periodically. If you had to guess, the sheriff was the only other person who knew you were there. It was nice to have another woman around, even if it was just for safety.

On the last trip Bobby left for, the sheriff wasn’t available. You assured him that you would be fine.

“Don’t be an idjit,” Bobby said. And then he left.

Bobby was gone longer than usual. The second week became the third, and you were worried. The third week became a month when the front door finally opened. But it wasn’t Bobby who stepped through.

“Y/N,” you heard one of the Winchesters call out. “It’s the Winchesters. We need to talk.”

You peeked down the steps and found them wandering around the living room. You met them in the hallway, arms crossed over your chest.

“Where’s Bobby?” you asked.

The tall one spoke up first. “I’m Sam, and this is Dean. We don’t have much time, but we’re here to take you somewhere safe.”

“What’s wrong with here? Where’s Bobby?” you repeated.

“Bobby’s dead,” Dean yelled. “Bobby’s dead, and demons are on their way to kill you. We have to go, now!”

Bursting through the ceiling, five demons appeared one by one, surrounding you and the Winchesters in the living room. Sam and Dean pulled out their weapons and guarded you without missing a beat.

“I think you have something that belongs to us,” a demon said with a toothy grin.

“She’s not going anywhere,” said Dean. All of the demons’ eyes flickered black and lunged at the boys.

You ran for the kitchen and hid under the table. You covered your ears. The yelling and screaming were all too much to handle. A set of shoes walked into the kitchen. They kicked the table, causing it to fly into the window behind you like it was weightless. You tried to run, but you were too late. The demon flicked its hand up, and you flew across the room, pinned to the refrigerator.

The demon sauntered over to you, a smirk plastered on their face. “You’ve been MIA for quite some time, you know that?”

You squirmed and twisted, struggling to free yourself from the imaginary hold.

“It’s not personal, babe. It’s just business, I swear.” The demon laughed.

You felt not fear but anger boiling over the surface. You were beginning to put the pieces together. Your family was a job; years of agony and grieving just to be an assignment. And you were the finishing touch. You spit in the demon’s face.

The demon wiped their face and narrowed their eyes. “Alright. Now it’s personal.”

The demon grabbed you by the throat, slamming your head into the wall. You screamed but no sound came out. You couldn’t breathe. Panic consumed you, desperate to recall anything you could from your studies.

“EXORCIZAMUS TE, OMNIS IMMUNDUS SPIRITUS OMNIS SATANICA POTESTAS”

The demon released their grasp, dropping to their knees. They grabbed at their throat like they were choking, longing for air that was suddenly gone.

Sam took over, and more screams echoed throughout the house. You dropped from the wall onto your knees, gasping for air.

The demon caught your wrists and dragged you toward them. You shrieked in pain, the grasp of the demon’s hands burning through your skin.

“Remember these,” the demon said, now clawing into your skin, blood dripping like rain down your arms. Tears ran down your face, but you refused to look away. “I’ll be back for you.”

With Sam reciting the final line of the exorcism, the demon laughed. Then they opened their mouth, black smoke escaping. And like a dense fog, they fell to the ground and burned beneath the floorboards.

Sam and Dean ran into the kitchen. Your heart pounded through your chest. You looked at the open wounds on your arms and felt your vision blur.

“Woah, hey, you’re ok, you’re ok. You’re gonna be fine,” Sam said as he and Dean rushed to your side.

“I don’t feel good,” was all you could say. You felt yourself floating in and out of consciousness, catching moments of “Sam! Water!” and “God, there’s gotta be rags around here somewhere!”

Dean slid behind you and scooped you into his arms, keeping you upright. You rested your head on his chest while Sam tended to your arms to stop the bleeding.

“Sorry, sorry,” you couldn’t help but say.

“You’re fine,” Sam said. “Just stay awake, ok?”

You nodded. You winced at the pressure he put on your arms, tears streaking your face. You didn’t dare look at the work Sam did on you, so you watched him instead. His eyebrows pinched together, focus and urgency his primary expression. Yet, his breathing stayed steady, allowing you to follow suit.

Once you were patched up to Sam’s liking, the two boys helped you to the car. You were sure they were talking to you, but you couldn’t hear them. You could only sit there in shock at what your life had become.

chapter 2

[myimaginaryradio]

Long Cool Woman In Black Dress - The Hollies

[rogdona]

[avatarchai]

Power, style, the pleasure of driving at sunset, and the stereotypical masculinity of automotive culture. The union between man and car through the mastery of the machine.

[its-night-again]

Captain John Price has a classic rock playlist full of The Hollies, The Who and Creedence Clearwater Revival.

That's all.

Keep scrolling.

[gungieblog]

The Hollies - Long Cool Woman (In a Black Dress) (Official Audio)

[musiclandoux]

: 🎼❤️🎼

The best thing I’ve seen on here all day !!

[aryxchse]

"rafe!" you called, smiling on the couch as you watched the tiktok video.

the trend 'when im running away from a serial killer, but it's just my boyfriend dressed in ...' has caught your interest, and well.. it kinda suited your boyfriend.

"yeah?" he called, altough he was already walking to you, taking a seat at the edge of the couch. you sat straight and wrapped your arms around his neck from behind, replaying the video.

the woman mockingly ran and her boyfriend came from behind, and the woman turned around, saw her boyfriend and began unzipping her crop.

"you wanna do this sweetheart?" he asked with an amused grin, turning his head to you. you mirrored his expression and nodded. "mhm, that'd be cool."

"k' baby, we can do that. i got a mask," he murmured as he stood up, and you happily clapped your hands, getting up as well.

"and i got a crop like that!" you called with a chuckle, and he almost laughed at the irony.

——

"i want you to flash me by the way, that's our deal." he winked, putting on the mask he had, only showing his eyes. he wore a full black outfit, tight shirt and normal jeans, showing off his body.

you drooled, yet you were as hot as he was, with your closed from the front with a zip crop and shorts.

"alright, alright," you nodded, smiling as you put the phone, and starting ten seconds timer before you both stepped out from the room.

the video was slow motion, and you ran to room, rafe walked behind you with his scary yet hot frame, and you turned around; strutting your way to him, opening your zip.

the video was long ended, with you opening your crop and rafe holding your waist, now replaying what you got.

the thing video didn't got was how rafe threw you over his shoulder, making you yelp yet laugh. "where are you taking me exactly?"

"my room," he stated with a grin as he made his way. "to appreciate those tits."

you chuckled. "alright.. but the mask stays."

"hell yeah."

the video is this fellas !!!

edit ;; i dunno if someone already wrote this idea by the way, i watched the video and it reminded me rafe <3