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#female 60s pop
guywithbeer · 1 year
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Check out this compilation of female pop tunes from the 60's.
Subscribe for daily music albums. 
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eyesfullofmoon · 6 months
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Dusty Springfield rehearsing at the London Palladium in London, England. May 1968.
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fatalebridget · 1 year
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mywifeleftme · 19 days
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360: Dusty Springfield // Dusty Springfield's Golden Hits
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Dusty Springfield's Golden Hits Dusty Springfield 1966, Philips
These early Dusty Springfield singles really get the “Wall of Sound” production treatment, despite Mr. Spector’s absence from the credits: mixed loud as hell like the kids liked it, screaming string charts, backing vocals en regalia, and a big beat knocking around underneath. Folks love to cite her as the second artist of the British Invasion to hit the U.S. charts, and for cultural reasons that may be significant, but her early sound was indistinguishable from American acts like Lesley Gore and the Shirelles. I don’t know many of the details about her career, but it seems like whoever was managing her was hell-bent on breaking her in the States. Call it a credit to English ingenuity (and specifically arranger Ivor Raymonde) that they were able to give Springfield a knock-out sound that passes for the contemporary Hollywood (or Detroit) product.
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Dusty Springfield’s Golden Hits, her first major compilation, is Brill Building / girl group-style music par excellence, with a murderer’s row of hitwriters from both sides of the pond (Bacharach/David, Goffin/King, Beatrice Verdi/Buddy Kaye, etc.). Practically anyone could’ve had chart success with these songs and this packaging (and a number of these were subsequently hits for others), but Springfield had a cannon of a voice on her that makes the best of these numbers undeniable. Those who place her voice with the Arethas and Dionne Warwicks wish she’d been guided towards soul or sophisticated torch songs from the start, but I personally love it when someone vocally overqualified for bubblegum is made to tear into a good bop. “I Only Want to Be With You” is buffeted along by the force of her voice, the violins shrieking like a 33rpm record dragged up to 45; “Little By Little” could’ve been written for a Motown powerhouse like Darlene Love (but scarcely improved on by her); “I Just Don’t Know What to Do With Myself” moves from the sound of a girl sadly combing her hair before her vanity to Sampson bringing down the temple.
There’s plenty of treacle here, and “Wishin’ and Hopin’” probably set feminism further back than “He Hit Me (It Felt Like a Kiss),” but this is a worthy addition to any ‘60s pop library.
360/365
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therealallenklein · 5 days
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I know I shouldn’t feed the trolls but some of yall sound like the adult man who made these videos back in the day
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plus-low-overthrow · 3 months
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Jean Claudric and His Ensemble feat. Ann Moore - It's Not Unusual (PPK)
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daninistar · 10 months
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Pauline Boty
Pauline Boty  was a British painter and co-founder of the 1960s' British Pop art movement of which she was the only acknowledged female member. Boty's paintings and collages often demonstrate a joy in self-assured femininity and female sexuality, as well as criticism (both overt and implicit) of the "man's world" in which she lived. Her rebellious art, combined with her free-spirited lifestyle, has made Boty a herald of 1970s' feminism
1938-1966
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doloresgaze7 · 2 years
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zippocreed501 · 2 years
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Pauline Boty art
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psychedelic-soul · 18 days
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roosterforme · 5 days
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The Younger Kind Part 60 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Your bachelorette outing and Bradley's bachelor party are both hosted by the same person, but they couldn't be more different. Spending an evening at home with Noah is reminiscent of your babysitting days, but now he's asking you some pertinent questions.
Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, smut, drinking, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4500 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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Natasha was outside in her SUV on the driveway, ready to pick you up for your bachelorette outing. You refused to call it a bachelorette party since it was just the two of you going out for the evening, but Bradley made sure his best friend knew to spare no expense when it came to anything you wanted.
"It's just pedicures and pottery," you whispered against Bradley's lips with a smile as he held you close so he could feel your round belly against his body. "I'll be home in a few hours."
He grunted softly, kissing you a little deeper before releasing your lips. "We'll still miss you," he murmured, letting his hands roam along your hips while Noah sat on the area rug and worked on one of the new coloring books you picked up for him. "And don't overdo it." When Natasha started honking her horn, he let his forehead rest on your shoulder. "She's the worst."
You just laughed and kissed his cheek as you said, "She's the best, and you know it, Daddy."
It would have been impossible to dispute that fact. She was the one who took care of you when Bradley wasn't stateside. "Go have fun."
"Bye, Mommy!" Noah said, popping up to give you a hug when Bradley released you. He scooped his son up since he didn't want you lifting anything, and you gave Noah a kiss on the forehead.
"Have fun with Daddy," you told him, kissing him once more before heading outside to Nat's idling SUV. 
Bradley stood on the porch with Noah and waved until you were out of sight, and then Noah asked, "Can we get Mommy a coloring book?"
"Hey," Bradley said, nudging the door open while also making sure Skittles didn't get outside without her leash on. "That's a great idea, Bub. Maybe a Princess coloring book? You can give it to her for the wedding?"
His son looked so much like a tiny version of himself, and he had to stifle his laughter as Noah nodded stoically and said, "Yeah, she'd like that. I have so many great ideas."
Bradley took him back inside, and they ended up stretched out on the floor together. Noah continued with his masterpiece while Bradley started searching for options on his phone. After a few minutes, he found an independent shop that made coloring books with different themes based on photos that you send to them. "Do you like this?" he asked his son, holding up his phone.
Noah looked at the sample pages as Bradley scrolled through them. He nodded and said, "Mommy is prettier than that."
"She absolutely is," Bradley replied as he realized the wedding was in a week and didn't know if a custom book could even be completed in that short amount of time. "Let me see if we can get something like this for her. If not, we can always save it for her birthday."
His son started to pout at the mere mention of having to wait longer for it, so Bradley started typing up a message to the owner of the shop, hoping that he'd be able to explain that it was for his wedding. Once that was done, he checked the time and asked, "Do you need a snack before dinner?"
"Ants on logs," Noah replied without missing a beat. Bradley had no problem with the healthy snacks you somehow tricked the two of them into eating, but he was always told he never got the peanut butter proportions right.
"Yeah, okay. I can try to make them the way you like-"
"Mommy left some in the fridge."
Bradley chuckled as he stood up, coaxing Noah to abandon his coloring project for the time being. "Of course she did. She's the best." Somehow even when you weren't here, you had everything covered.
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"Okay, so if you could ditch Bradley and marry a celebrity, who would you pick?"
You burst out laughing in the pedicure chair next to Natasha with your hands resting on the roundest part of your belly. "Who said I would? Even if I could?" She gave you a look followed by an eye roll before you said, "You'll laugh at me, so I don't even want to say my answer."
"Just say it," she prompted as you dragged your foot through the warm water.
You groaned and said, "I like all the older, DILF-y actors."
Natasha started cackling as you covered your eyes with your hands. "You have a type!" she said amidst her laughter. "And your type is Rooster!"
You thought back to all the time you wasted with Greyson and other guys your age and grimaced. "I don't think that was always my type. It's a more recent development, and I'm not mad about it." You moved your hand on your belly and added, "Boy suck. Men are at least marginally better."
"Well," she said, leaning a little closer to you like she had a secret. "You found a good one. Or rather, I kind of found you for him. But regardless, he's a keeper. Kind of because he has Noah."
"Mostly because he has Noah," you told her, and then both of you were laughing.
After your nails were painted a vibrant purple, Natasha took you out for dinner and let you eat until you were full. You could tell your body and appetite were changing by the day, but you refused to feel self conscious about it in front of her. The two of you were sharing a slice of cake for dessert when you said, "He really did plan almost everything for the wedding. All I did was help him pick out matching suits for him and Noah to wear. And I picked out some flowers and my dress, but that's it."
Natasha hummed as she took another forkful of dessert. "I'm telling you, he'll always be good like that. He's a planner. Very responsible."
You felt silly telling her what was on your mind, but you said it anyway. "He pays my credit card bill. Not that I spend a lot! I try not to! I usually just buy groceries and things for Noah." She nodded like your words weren't as startling as you thought they were. "I kind of wanted to surprise him as a thank you, but if I buy something, he'll see it on the credit card statement."
Maybe you should have been wary of the smirk that found its way to her lips when Natasha said, "What if I rally the boys one night this week and take him out for a little bachelor party?"
"Oh," you said softly. "You'd do that? Just something lowkey?"
"Super lowkey," she agreed with a nod.
You could easily imagine them going to Top Golf or out for some drinks. "I think he might really like that."
"Or.... and just hear me out," she said, holding up her hands innocently after handing her credit card to the waiter. "Or, you let me absolutely roast him for the night."
You studied her face; how bad could it be? She was Bradley's best friend after all. Even if she was giving him a hard time, she'd probably make it fun. "What did you have in mind?" you asked as the two of you left the restaurant and headed for the pottery boutique down the block.
"A few things I'm going to need your approval for," she replied casually. And while you worked on making yourself a mug that said Noah's Mommy, you listened to Natasha's not-so-lowkey plans for Thursday night. By the time your mug actually looked like a mug, you gave her full approval.
"I almost feel bad about this," you told her with a laugh.
"I don't."
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The following evening after Noah was in bed, Bradley set you up for a nice shower while he cleaned up the kitchen from the chicken enchiladas you made for dinner. When Nat called him, he held his phone to his shoulder with his cheek and kept working.
He answered the call and asked, "Hey, what's up?"
"Your bachelor party with me and the guys starts at six o'clock on Thursday evening."
He laughed in response. "It's funny that this is the first time I'm hearing about it."
Bradley could practically feel her rolling her eyes through the phone. "Just be ready to go."
"Ready for what?" he asked, knowing better than to just trust her with this. The dating app was one thing, and that had turned out great in the end, but he wasn't going to blindly go with her on this.
"Uhhh... just some stuff."
"Natasha."
"Bradley."
"What did you do?"
There was a brief pause before she said, "Just be ready for dinner, booze and some strippers."
With a deep sigh, Bradley closed his eyes and said, "I'm going to have to check with my wife-to-be about the strippers, Nat." You had to know by now that you had nothing to worry about, and he wasn't even all that keen on going to a strip club, but he didn't want you to be upset.
"She knows the plan."
He froze as he loaded the dishwasher. "She does?"
Natasha laughed, and Bradley swore he felt his skin crawl. "She does. Be ready for six o'clock on Thursday."
"We have work on Friday-" 
She already ended the call. Bradley finished cleaning up when he heard you getting out of the shower. "God damn it, Nat," he muttered as he turned off the kitchen lights and made his way back to the bedroom where you were all wrapped up in a towel.
"Hi, Daddy."
He groaned at your words and your little smirk. "Hey, Baby. Can we talk for a minute?"
Your eyebrows shot up as you held your towel around you a little tighter. "What's wrong? Is it something about the wedding? Did the marriage license not go through? We only have six days."
"No, no," he promised, reaching for you. "It's not that. It's... I just got off the phone. With Nat."
You looked relieved as you leaned against him. "Good. I was worried for a second."
Bradley didn't quite know how to approach this topic now that he was here. Natasha would be as tenacious as a junkyard dog about her plans, so he had to say something. "You don't have anything to worry about."
You laughed softly. "That sounds nice."
He cleared his throat and said, "Nat called about my bachelor party night?" 
It came out more like a question than a statement, but you just nodded and said, "Dinner and drinks and the strip club."
"Yeah," he rasped. "You approved this whole thing?"
"Mmhmm. To be fair, it was all her idea. I just told her it was okay."
Bradley tipped your chin so you were looking up at him, your face fresh and perfect after your shower. "If this plan is not okay with you, then I'm not going."
"It's okay with me," you replied easily. "I trust you."
He studied your face. "I feel like I'm going to end up babysitting everyone on a work night. Two days before the wedding."
You snorted in response. "You'll have fun. And so will everyone else. You should go."
"Yeah, I'm going," he groaned. "Nat will just have the guys drag me out if I don't go willingly. But I don't really care about looking at strippers. I got you and your perfect tits right here at home."
You didn't stop him when he slowly tugged your towel from your fingers and pulled it open. And yeah, your tits looked perfect, but so did the swell of your pregnant belly and your soft skin. He was hard as soon as the towel hit the floor. 
"Daddy," you whined softly, shivering in his arms. It was December, and the nights were chilly in San Diego; you had taken to snuggling with him even more than usual in your sleep. "Now you need to warm me up."
"My pleasure," he replied, scooping you up and dropping you carefully onto the king sized bed that you picked out for the room. "Let me start right here," he whispered before he kissed you softly, covering your body gently with his. "Feeling warmer?"
You shifted beneath him, spreading your legs wider so he was nestled against your pussy, his cock straining against his jeans zipper. "A little bit," you whispered innocently. 
Bradley smirked, and when he brought his hand up to stroke your breast, he said, "I told you, I got these perfect tits right here."
"Bradley," you giggled as his fingers skimmed along your skin, but when he stroked his thumb across your tightly furled nipple, you arched your back and made a raspy gasping sound. Your eyes went wide as you looked up at him. "Oh my god," you moaned.
"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling his hand away, but you were already nodding vigorously. 
"It felt really good." The words rushed right from your lips as you rolled your hips up to meet his. "Different, I guess. I can't explain it."
When he rubbed your nipple between his thumb and index finger, he smirked. You were instantly squirming and moaning, reaching for his zipper with one hand and his hair with the other. Your eyes were wild even though he was being gentle, and he dipped his head down to whisper in your ear. "You're extra sensitive right now. It's the pregnancy hormones." He plucked and stroked as you started panting. "God damn, Princess. You like that?"
"Yes!" Your voice already sounded broken, and he'd barely touched you.
"Shh. Keep quiet like a good girl." But his words and hand seemed to have the opposite effect on you, because you just got louder. Bradley reached down to where you had his cock free from his zipper and pulled your hand up to his lips. He kissed your fingers before shoving them a little rough into your mouth. "You have to be quiet if you want me to play with you."
You moaned around your own fingers but nodded your head, and at least you were quieter now as Bradley kissed his way from your neck down to your tits. He didn't know how he was going to manage you when there were two kids in the house trying to sleep, but at the moment, he didn't really care. You were going to be his wife in a few short days. That thought alone had him bucking his cock against the bedding as he ran his mustache along your peaked nipple, inhaling your wildflower scent.
When he pulled your nipple into his mouth and sucked, he could tell your breasts were already a little bit bigger than before. Soon you'd be bigger everywhere. Getting even more sensitive by the day. He was painfully hard right now, listening to your muffled screams and tasting you. He licked and sucked until your tits were both damp from his mouth and overstimulated from his mustache. 
When you started bucking up, Bradley eased his hand down to cup your pussy and found that you were soaked. He couldn't remember Meredith getting quite like this as he dipped his middle finger into your slick and easing it down to your hole.
"Daddy," you gasped as you pulled your fingers from your mouth. "I'm going to come."
You looked shocked by your statement as you sank down around his finger. He could already feel your tight pussy fluttering around him as he whispered, "You want me to make it so good?"
His only answer was a whimper as you bit your lip, and he knew he'd make sure you were always taken care of in every way. Carefully, he added a second finger and started to circle your clit with his thumb. You were shaking a bit, your pretty tits bouncing softly as he ran his nose down the valley between your breasts. 
"Be a good girl. You know where to put those fingers, Princess," he coaxed, watching you slip them between your lips. Then he let you have his mouth on your tits again, while his hand worked at your pussy. He carefully drew a shaking orgasm out of you as you slobbered on your own fingers, not stopping until he was afraid you'd be too far gone soon.
"Daddy," you whined around your fingers as he ran his tongue flat across your nipple.
"Let me fuck you," he begged, realizing he was already close and needing to be inside you. "Please, Baby."
You reached for his cock and guided him home, and he fucked you with his jeans barely pulled down, coming inside you after just a few strokes. You were the picture of sated perfection with his cum oozing out of your pussy and your wet fingers skimming along your swollen belly and breasts. You were his young, pristine babysitter and his pregnant wife-to-be and everything in between. "I love you."
"Keep me warm all night, Daddy."
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As you sent Bradley off with Natasha, you shared a conspiratorial look with her. You only felt slightly bad for keeping the bachelor party plans to yourself, and ultimately it made you feel good when Bradley went out for the night in an old pair of jeans and an uninspired shirt. He didn't look the part of a man who wanted to try to dazzle some strippers, and you loved him for it. 
"Bye, Bub," he said, kneeling to kiss Noah where he stood at your side. "Be good for Mommy." Then he stood and kissed you deeply. "I won't be out late, okay?"
"Stay out as late as you want," you told him, running your fingers along his cheek as he pulled away from you. "Just don't have a hangover on Saturday."
He smiled and focused on your face even as Nat and the guys yelled at him from Javy's car in the driveway. "Our wedding day. It'll be perfect. Like you."
"Go," you told him with a laugh even as you had butterflies in your belly. "Have fun. We'll be here when you get home."
With one more kiss, he was off and jogging down the walkway. You watched him climb into the backseat, then they all waved at you as Javy backed out of the driveway with Natasha in the front seat. You were wondering how long it would be until Bradley called you to tell you he had in fact been taken to see a bunch of male strippers. The guys had apparently all been so excited when Natasha mentioned the strip club, she had a hard time holding in her laughter. The plan all along was that she'd take Bradley and the rest of them to dinner and then to The Tiger's Cage- San Diego's premier male review.
But you didn't hear from them at all while you and Noah ate macaroni and cheese together. You still didn't hear a word as the two of you took Skittles for a short walk to look at Christmas lights. You even let Noah dip his hands in green paint to make a Christmas tree art project to hang on the refrigerator, but nobody called or texted you.
"Mommy?" Noah asked as you got him changed into his dinosaur pajamas. "Are you going to adopt me?"
You smiled and kissed him on his chubby cheek. "I am," you promised. But when you looked at his face, his brow was pinched with worry.
"Is it going to hurt?"
"Oh, Noah," you said with a surprised laugh, pulling him into your arms and holding him against his growing younger sibling. "Not at all! It won't feel like anything."
"Then why are you going to do it?" he asked, face muffled by your shoulder.
You soothed his back with your hand, considering his question. For all intents and purposes, you really were his mom. Bradley added you to his will; if anything happened to him, Noah was solely yours. "I kind of want to have a little piece of paper with an official signature that says we get to be together forever. Does that sound okay?"
"That's adoption?" he asked. 
"That's adoption."
"Yeah, okay," he agreed with a little shrug before climbing into bed. "Can I sleep with Skittles again?"
The pup appeared in the doorway, always excited to hear her name. "She can stay in here until Daddy gets home." You set the dog in bed with him and gave him a little kiss on his forehead as he yawned. "I love you."
"Love you, Mommy." He was half asleep as you turned on his night light and left the room. When you checked your phone, you smiled, having finally received the message you were waiting for. 
Bradley Bradshaw: Nat brought us to The Tiger's Cage. My name is on the marquee. It says CONGRATULATIONS DADDY BRADSHAW
You were doubled over in laughter, holding your belly and trying not to wet yourself. Because he also sent a picture. All of the guys were lined up under the marquee sign, and you were pleased to see that they all looked like they were being good sports about the entire thing. Bradley was the only one who looked slightly mortified.
You texted back Go have fun, Daddy Bradshaw!
Natasha sent you some random photos as you got ready for bed. You were surprised Jake was there, given your history with him, but even he looked like he was having fun. You laughed at a picture of Bradley drinking something pink and blended, and then the photos stopped. 
You wondered what was going on, but you kept yourself busy. Bradley told you not to clean up, promising to take care of everything tomorrow night before the wedding in the backyard on Saturday afternoon. Since you had the time and the privacy, you tried on your wedding dress one last time, sliding the fabric along your legs and zipping it up your side. You grabbed your purple paper crown, which was looking a lot worse for the wear now, and set it on your head. 
When you looked in the mirror, you smiled. The dress fit like a dream and hugged your bump. The crown looked fun at the moment, but you wouldn't wear it on Saturday; you were pretty sure Bradley considered it a 'bedroom' item at this point anyway. Mostly, you looked happy. Like someone who was accepted in this perfect place. Like a woman who was needed here. And you needed the Bradshaw boys to be your family.
You wore the dress around for a few minutes before carefully unzipping it and getting ready for bed. It was late now, but you requested the day off tomorrow, and you wanted to see Bradley when he got home from his bachelor party. After you checked on Noah and Skittles, you curled up on the living room couch. 
Every time you stopped to think about the wedding, you got a little anxious. When you asked Bradley what he had planned for dinner for the reception, he just told you he had everything under control. He said all you had to do was show up with some sort of wedding vows, but he didn't tell you anything that he had planned. 
You dozed off on the couch, somehow still exhausted all the time, and you had no idea how late it was when you woke up to the sound of laughter and a key in the front door.
"You smell like Axe body spray. I can't believe someone is marrying you."
"Jesus fuck, Nat. I smell like Axe because you took me to see male strippers."
"Well, I know I had a great time tonight," Natasha cackled as she guided Bradley inside, and you stood up with your hand clasped over your mouth. He was a swaying mess, and he was holding a huge wad of cash and a bag from a convenience store.
"Princess," he crooned softly when he saw you, and your heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes.
"Hi, Daddy."
And then he was on you, so gentle in his overindulgence, it was almost surprising. He was looking around like he wasn't sure what to do with everything he was holding, trying to touch your belly.
"I'll see you on Saturday," Natasha said with a smile as she closed the door behind her, and then you were alone with him. 
"What's in the bag? Are why are you holding a roll of cash?" you asked as you guided him to the couch. 
He sat down hard and handed everything to you as you stood between his splayed legs. "The strippers were dudes. I made Nat and Javy stop so I could get you some Skittles. I'm really drunk. Can we get married soon?"
When you looked in the bag you found six packs of your favorite candy. "Wow, you must be very intoxicated if you bought a pack of Sour Skittles too."
"Did I?" he asked before stretching out on the couch. "Shit. I'll eat them. Come here."
You sat on the floor next to him and handed him the bag of Sour Skittles as you counted the nearly seven hundred dollars you were holding. "Bradley, where did this come from?" you asked in alarm.
But he just crunched on some of the candy in response. "Oh, these are fucking nasty. Baby, can we please get married?" he rambled, dumping more Skittles into his mouth.
You pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him there. "Were getting married in like thirty-six hours. Now can you please tell me where you got this money from?"
"Huh?" he grunted like he'd never seen it before. "Oh. Oh, that." Then he casually dumped the rest of the Sour Skittles and chewed them up while you laughed and shook his arm.
"Bradley!"
He swallowed and dropped the wrapper on the floor before pulling you up onto the couch with him. "Jake got tips for stripping, and Nat made him give me the cash."
"I'm sorry, what?" you asked with in shock as you tried to settle into a comfortable position on him.
"They tried to get Daddy Bradshaw up on stage. I pointed to Jake and said it was him."
You couldn't stop laughing now. "But you got the cash?"
"Yeah," he said, eyes drifting closed as he propped his arm behind his head. "A wedding gift. For the honeymoon."
Just as you settled your head on his chest, you popped back up again. "Are we going on a honeymoon?" You started to feel a little apprehensive about going away for an extended trip without Noah while you were pregnant, but Bradley brought his big hand up to settle on your back as he snuggled in a little more.
"Next year. After the baby's born. Anywhere you want to go."
He really did kind of smell like Axe body spray, and he definitely needed to take a shower, but you let him hold you for a few minutes while he slept.
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Part 61 will be their wedding! Thanks so much for reading and letting me share this family with you! We're almost to the finish line. Thanks @caitsymichelle13 for the request about the coloring book; stay tuned. And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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eyesfullofmoon · 3 months
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Françoise Hardy and Sylvie Vartan, 1967.
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hotvintagepoll · 1 month
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Propaganda
Diana Rigg (On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, The Assassination Bureau, A Midsummer Night’s Dream)—Though she may be most famous across the pond for her Game of Thrones-era career, here on her native soil she is an icon of the 60s and female empowerment! Arguably best known for slaying as Emma Peel in The Avengers, her biggest pop culture legacy is definitely playing the only woman Bond truly loved - Tracy di Vincenzo - and absolutely stealing the movie (OHMSS) from under George Lazenby’s nose. The Assassination Bureau is also an extremely fun and underrated period adventure film where her boundless energy and wit is better matched by Oliver Reed. She excelled at playing alluring women with a sense of humour and darker complications underneath. Undoubtedly one of England’s most lovable, intelligent, funny, sexy and unforgettable actresses of all time, I entreat you VOTE PRINCESS DI !!
Barbra Streisand (Funny Girl, Hello Dolly)—I love her smile!! I love her nose!! I love her Brooklyn accent!! She's hilarious and gorgeous and real!!! I love her sense of humor! I love her voice!
This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Diana Rigg:
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"She lived with a director/partner/boyfriend for eight years in the 60s and told the tabloid press '[I have no desire] to be respectable'"
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Barbra Streisand propaganda:
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"If you want to know why I’m submitting her, you’ll just have to read her 900 page memoir My Name is Barbra. It’ll explain everything!"
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Lovely, smart, funny and a GORGEOUS VOICE
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have you seen her? she could sing and dance and i love her so much in funny girl
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Her most famous movie line is telling herself “Hello Gorgeous,” what else can I say lol. One of the most famous Hollywood divas of our time, who’s still alive and going strong. All of her outfits in Funny Girl are also soooo pretty. Plus she got to act alongside Omar Sharif, who was in the Vintage Men Poll.
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She IS the greatest star! Her voice! Her eyes! She has one of the most stunning profiles I've ever seen. Talent in SPADES! (And honestly, as a wlw it's disingenuous to ignore it - a truly beautiful cleavage)
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elvisalltheway101 · 2 months
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LADIES NIGHT; 60s Elvis x multiple females 18+
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summary: A crowd of pretty women, fans of his, ask to spend the night. Elvis, being Elvis, never turning down a pretty face, agrees. He’s in for a real treat from the ladies.
author’s note: it just swelled over the years from reading smut and thirsty desires for him. So it popped to my head and basically it’s what I think would happen in a steamy night with all of us, hungry fans. Taking inspiration from @vintagepresley and help from @jhoneybees. Enjoy!
••••••••••••
he doesn’t know why he ever agreed to this. it’s unbearable.
His wrists tied with his white, silky scarf from the show, and attached to his hotel bedroom headrest. Sweaty, stuffy, and it’s still going.
as two blondes latch onto his hardened buds, swollen, puckered and a tender pink, he throws his head back with a lengthy groan.
it was never like this, a thought slips past his mind. He was always the one, tongue fucking an eager pink hole that swallowed him nicely. He was always the one fuckin’ raw and juicy, eager for her nectar. He was always the one that would pleasure, but tonight it was just the opposite.
As another woman lowers and hovers over his overly sensitive cock, his girthy manhood pink from overstimulation yet, still yearning for more. he couldnt even remember the number of poofy-haired dolls that marched in with the others. his mind so hazy, and full of pleasure, gosh.
he’s been through it all, even his pink, tight little rim that’s been stretched deliciously by two eager tongues. His hole clenches at just the thought of the just activity.
he cries out, hips bucking strongly and firmly to chase that big ‘o’, his palms sweaty into fists that tug at the fabric. his teeth gritted and face scrunched in pure bliss, cheeks crimson and warm from his earlier orgasms. Hell, he forgot how many he’s been given.
His nipples tight, being lapped up completely by two hunger lips, his overused buds being gently nibbled and tongued by their pink muscle. While two other red lipsticked lips glide wetly over his cock, so deliciously. So, so good.
His balls are swollen and nearly empty, tight to himself but not neglected. another mouth smoothly runs their tongue over the seam of his balls, to then flick against his overstimulated sack.
They’re like fucking suction cups. He snaps into his head, that is until they turn him over, cheek against the damp bedsheet and ass so plump and in the air, that he loses his mind.
There’s a small moment as they all catch their breath, and he takes the time to. What are they gonna do? He opens his swollen, magenta colored lips to ask but then hiccups a gasp.
They all latch onto him, like those sucky things in the lake water. Fuck he can’t think anymore, his hips stutter and his knees tremble.
One pair of pretty lips pepper his shoulder blades soothingly while the others work their mouths. He can feel hot tongues still flicking against his swollen nipples. Another tongue flicks against his stretched rim, then diving between his cheeks to pleasure him. Another hot tongue eagerly suckles and muzzles into his tight, heavy ball sacks. The pleasure is so good to his sacks, heavy of his nectar, he can’t help but slightly bounce against whoever’s hot lips down there.
His cock twitches wildly, wagging pathetic under him. So red, wet, and his foreskin is peeled all the way back. He dips his head down between his captured arms to see himself and his eyes only roll to the back of his head.
His cock is decorated with all different types of girly colors. One fat-lipped, pink kiss is right on his mushroom tip. His locks of blonde, pubic hair curl and salty from the hot, and tiring activities.
It’s when all pretty, clampy doll hands grip his firm, heated cock that he loses it.
His vision goes to absolute stars, panting like a bitch in heat and hips humping the hands that await for his seed. His nectar comes out in final thick ropes. Steaming, hot streams of white cream, spurt out. And the woman are quick to act. Unlatching their lips to his parts, they flip him over quickly to capture his nectar on their lips.
His throat is sore from the constant moaning, and he’s surprised when he hears himself echo through the room, his high-pitched scream of pleasure as his stomach muscles tighten, and tawny sun kissed back arches.
they haven’t wasted a drop of him this whole night. As they grip his tender cock to each other’s lips like a damn hose or a straw and they capture the honey savored, salty semen.
His fat, red tip bubbles little dribbles of remaining nectar and they’re all quick to lathe their tongue against it. All at once, he sighs and wipes the shining drool on his cheeks to the soddened sheets. Ah, he could get used to this.
It was never like this, the reality pops into his head again. He always made the woman shake first, this night was the opposite.
it was ladies’ night.
••••••••
tagging ‘em: @vintagepresley @jhoneybees @bigdaddyelvislover
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vintageshanny · 11 days
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Taste of the Ocean
Content: A somewhat dejected Elvis invites his girlfriend on a vacation to cheer him up after filming Blue Hawaii. Smut ensues. (Please suspend disbelief that some of these actions might not be practical in the ocean, and you will enjoy this a lot more 😉). Written in response to the request below. 18+
Hi. May I request an early 60s Elvis in which he is with female reader at Hawaii for vacation and he is like very horny for her, even though she doesn't provoke him. Very detailed and passionate smut please and thank you.
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April 1961
“This was a nice idea, honey,” Elvis said as he stared up at the crescent moon casting a glow over the water. “I’m glad ya talked me into a midnight swim.”
“Me too,” you smiled. “It’s nice that you decided to stay a few days after filming for a vacation. Thanks for inviting me.”
Elvis turned his gaze from the moon back to your face, looking slightly surprised. “Of course, baby. Y-y-y’know how much I missed ya.”
You actually were never really sure how much he missed you, if at all. He always seemed to enjoy your time together in Memphis, and he said all the right things, things that you were fairly certain he believed in the moment when he said them. The first time you’d heard rumors of him and a co-star, he’d insisted that the studio put these stories out to get people talking about the movie. You wanted to believe that was true, but you weren’t so naive as to think he would never be tempted to seek the comfort of another woman when he was gone on these movie shoots. Especially after everything he’d been through these last few years. You’d made a conscious decision to trust his words to you over any rumors and give him all the comfort and support you could in the moments when you were together. He always gave so much of himself, it only seemed right that he deserved this in return.
In his uncanny way of reading your thoughts, Elvis smiled sheepishly as he brushed a wet lock of hair off your shoulder. “Thanks for always bein’ here when I need ya, baby. It’s been a really stressful shoot,” he added with a sigh. “Each movie I make seems ta get worse.”
“You know what helps with stress? Floating on your back,” you said with a smile.
“Is that right?” Elvis smirked. “This isn’t jus’ you tryin’ ta get a better view of me in these tiny swim shorts I swiped from the set?” he teased.
“What? I would never!” you giggled, feigning innocence, glad that your blushing face was at least partially obscured by the cover of night. “I’ll even demonstrate for you.” You leaned back, letting your body float on the water, rocked by its gentle movements. “See? All the stress is just melting away,” you announced with a grin.
Elvis looked down at the peaceful expression on your face, your beauty seeming to glow in the moonlight. His eyes moved down to where your breasts swayed up and down in time with the water, barely covered by your white bikini top, then continued over the curve of your hips to that spot he knew was just for him. He could feel his swim shorts growing even tighter as he took note of the curly little hairs escaping from your swimsuit bottom.
“This is a nice bathing suit, honey,” he murmured as he fiddled with the strings that tied at your hips, a warmth continuing to consume him.
“Thanks,” you whispered, smiling a little bit. You didn’t normally wear such a risque suit, but you’d wanted to make sure you’d get his attention back from…wherever it might have wandered in the last couple months. “Why don’t you try floating?”
“Baby, I’m floatin’ on cloud nine jus’ lookin’ at how beautiful you are.” Elvis slowly started to pull on the strings that he’d been playing with. “There’s really only one thing that could make me feel even better.”
Your eyes popped open as you realized that Elvis had deftly untied and removed your bikini bottom. “What are you doing? Elvis, someone might see!”
“Shh, honey, it’s dark and ain’t nobody out here but us.” He tucked your suit bottom into the front of his shorts, his hardened dick having created a convenient little tent for it. “Lemme show ya how much I’ve missed ya.” You shivered a little as Elvis’ fingertips ghosted over your fuzzy mound and pushed your legs open, letting the moonlight bathe your throbbing pussy. “Damn honey, look atcha all wet for me already,” he groaned, spreading your lips and running a finger through your soft folds.
“It’s, it’s cuz we’re in the ocean,” you sputtered out, trying your best to stay still and keep floating.
Elvis leaned down and licked right down your center with his thick tongue before pulling back with that big goofy grin. “Nah, baby, that ain’t the ocean, that’s the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted. Ya been savin’ that sweet cream for me?”
You nodded, moaning with pleasure as Elvis dove back between your thighs. As you started writhing with pleasure, he used one strong hand to support your back so you wouldn’t sink under the water. The other one wrapped around one of your thighs and kept you firmly pressed against his face, his tongue dancing over your clit, alternately flicking and sucking it. Elvis continued lapping at you, the saltiness of the ocean mixing with the sweet and tangy flavor of your arousal. By the time his tongue pushed its way into your tight little opening, his nose rubbing against your sensitive clit, you were ready to explode with desire. All you could do was hope that your intense moans didn’t carry too far through the warm Hawaiian breeze.
After licking up every last drop of you, Elvis gently released his hold on you, your legs sinking down onto somewhat solid ground, your toes burrowing into the sandy ocean floor.
“Is that the kind of stress relief ya had in mind while floatin’ on your back?” Elvis’ breath tickled your ear as he pulled you close. You could feel under the water that he desperately needed some relief of his own.
“Better than anything I could imagine,” you whispered back. “Now it’s your turn.” You reached for his waistband, letting your fingers trail over his bulge, his body giving an involuntary little shudder.
“Oh, honey, ya ain’t gotta do that out here,” he protested weakly.
“I want to,” you insisted softly. “I missed you too, y’know.”
“Oh yeah?” he smiled. “What did ya miss the most about me?”
“Well, for one thing, I had no one to make me laugh like you do.” You tugged the tiny swim shorts down his legs and helped him step out of them, gripping them in your hand so they wouldn’t float away.
“And seeing me naked is gonna help with that?” Elvis’ mouth twitched as he tried not to laugh at his own joke. He leaned back and allowed his body to float to the surface, his pulsing dick on full display.
“No baby,” you teased back, wrapping your hand around him. Your insides tingled at the way the brown hairs at his base seemed to float around in the water. “This is no laughing matter. You could injure someone with this. It’s dangerous.” Elvis’ loud burst of laughter quickly turned to a moan as you took him in your mouth, your tongue caressing every inch of him. You could feel his sensitive tip graze the back of your throat as you took him in as deep as you could. As his body started thrashing about from the pleasure, you tried to support his back the way he had done with you, but before you could get a good grip on him, the force of his movements had pulled you both under the water.
“Wh-wh-what are ya tryin’ ta do, mama? Drown me?” He came up spitting out water and laughing so hard he could barely breathe.
You giggled too and spit out the salty water that had filled your mouth. “I’m sorry, you were moving around too much!”
“Well what do ya expect honey? Ya takin’ me all the way to the base makes me feel some kinda way. I-I can’t control it.”
“Hmm, maybe we’ll have to find a different way to relieve your stress,” you purred in his ear, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“I think I know jus’ the thing, baby,” he growled softly, giving your ear a nibble as he reach down and lined himself up with you under the water.
“Oh, God,” you moaned out as he pushed inside of you, stretching your opening around his thickness.
“It’s jus me, baby, but ya ain’t been the first ta get us confused,” he teased as he held your body down on his cock.
“Ha,” you tried to laugh at his joke, but the feeling of him deep inside of you had you in some kind of alternate reality where all you could experience was pleasure.
“Ohh, baby,” Elvis groaned as he gently lifted you and brought you back down on him. He could feel his dick twitching inside of you, releasing all the tension and stress that had built up inside of him. “Oh, shit, uhh, that feels so good honey.” With one last thrust upward, he stilled his movements and just hugged you tightly to him, burying his face in your neck, his soft lips pressed against your skin.
“How do you feel now?” you whispered, stroking his wet hair, feeling his chest heave up and down with the release of emotion.
“The best back float I’ve ever done,” he said, looking up at you with a smile. He tried to ignore the thought that popped into his brain next. You’ve had your moment of freedom in the ocean. Now on to the next crappy movie. Instead he squeezed your hand and asked, “Ya ready ta go inside?” You nodded and held his swimsuit out to him. “Gonna be fun tryin’ ta put these wet shorts back on in the water,” he chuckled.
“Wait, where’s the bottom to my suit?” you asked in a panic.
“Uh oh, it was wrapped up in my shorts, honey, and it ain’t there no more.” You could see Elvis trying to stifle a laugh.
“It’s not funny! How am I supposed to get out now?” you yelped.
“Hmm, I guess we’re jus’ stuck out here forever,” he smiled, pulling you in for a hug. “But at least we have these flotation devices.” He sneakily started to untie your top as well. “Might as well take this off too,” he murmured as he flung it to the side and wrapped his lips around one of your bare nipples, grazing it gently with his teeth.
“Mmm,” you moaned, holding tightly to him. “I think I’d love being stuck here with you.” You could feel his arousal growing again.
Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @lookingforrainbows @thatbanditqueen @be-my-ally @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @arrolyn1114
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omega-floof · 7 months
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Omegaverse Music
Knot Rock- Alpha centric sex music about sexual relations with Omegas with hazy consent rules, mostly popular in the 1970s and 1980s but had chart success into the 1990s
Omega pop- fluffy, sugary, love and platitudes, bubblegum pop music made to appeal to unmated Omegas and beta females, popular from the late 90s onwards
Omega punk- heavy, hard hitting, tied heavily to Omega Rights Movements, although fairly recent affairs, the oldest bands being from the 80s, the songs are some of the few that emphasise consistent consent and the Omega POV
Soft Rock- a more alpha centric version of the progressive and fluffy songs of the 2000s, popularised by the “in the Heat of the Game” movies
Nova Dancehall- a more traditional reaction to Omega punk by traditionalist Omegas and more rarely Alphas
Knot Country- rough, rocky, but far more traditional in sound and message than Omega punk, Soft Rock, or even Knot Rock in some cases
Pub Rock- like Nova Dancehall, but for Alphas specifically, and older, being from the 70s originally, but revived in the 90s as a reaction to Omega punk and pop, but also as a kinder gentler Knot Rock
Novelty pop Rock- silly nonsense to entertain pups and Omegas, really popular in America in the 1950s and 60s, but mega popular elsewhere in the world throughout time, some getting more than one hit in certain places (like James Blunt’s creepy ass IRL, or Snow Patrol or the Proclaimers, who both got far more mileage than expected in their native UK than in the US, or even Bobby Darin, hit machine in America, forgotten everywhere else)
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