#shelby’s 750 celebration!

[rhettabbotts]

for your celly my love!! <33

shielding the other one with their body

with rhett please!!!! protect me cowboy!!!!!! <33

the great protector - rhett abbott

pairing: rhett abbott x reader

summary: when a guy won’t leave you alone at the rodeo, rhett steps in as your ‘boyfriend’.

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: mentions of a creepy guy at the rodeo. exes to lovers, kind of? protective rhett. some fluff. use of female pronouns. i believe that is all.

The last place you wanted to be was the Amelia County fair.

You were visiting your family and your parents insisted on attending the last night of the county’s biggest event. It had been a few years since you had attended, leaving Wabang right after high school and not coming back until you graduated college. You had to get out, the stuffiness of the small town was suffocating you. It was hard leaving behind your parents, but it was somehow even harder leaving Rhett.

Rhett was your best friend growing up and your high school sweetheart, dating all four years during a troubling time in your life. Everyone thought you were going to get married, settle down and have a couple of kids. It became apparent that neither you nor Rhett were on that path. He didn’t want to leave Wabang, and you couldn’t wait to escape. It was an amicable break-up but that didn’t stop you from crying nearly every night those first couple of months away.

You hadn’t spoken in years, the only thing you ever heard about him was updates from your mother or the occasional Facebook post made by Cecilia. You knew he was chasing his dream of riding bulls. You had even seen a picture of him and Maria Olivares a couple years back. Nothing could have stopped the way your heart constricted and the bile to rise in the back of your throat. Come to find out from your best friend, they crashed and burned just mere months after dating.

So, by coming back home for a few weeks, you were taking a risk in seeing Rhett. You tried to be strategic about it; going into town at odd hours, avoiding The Handsome Gambler at all costs, keeping interactions short and sweet with Cecilia when you saw her at the grocery store. You never once asked about Rhett although the question sat heavy on your tongue.

Rhett always had you in the back of his mind. Ever since you left a cloud of dust in your rearview mirror six years ago, he regretted not going after you. He put all of his focus into working on the ranch, nearly breaking his back night and day to please his father but it was never good enough. He figured by getting on the back of a raging bull, following in Royal’s footsteps, that it would help their relationship. If anything, it just added salt to the preexisting wound. No matter how many arguments and screaming matches they had, Rhett still pursued bull riding. In those moments, he wished he could call you. He craved to hear your voice again, the voice that could talk him down from anything.

When you returned to Wabang, his mom would come home, brown paper bags in her arms from the day out on Main Street, talking about you. She would tell him how good you looked, how you were making it on your own in the city. Rhett would just nod along, smiling sadly at his mother’s bragging words. Of course you were doing good for yourself, he always knew you would. He was glad he didn’t hold you back. As the week dragged by, he was getting ready for his last ride at the fair. He couldn’t help but wonder if you would be there.

Friday night came in the blink of an eye. You were fussing with your hair for what felt like the tenth time in the past five minutes. You applied light makeup, a coat of mascara and a shiny gloss. You forwent your usual attire of sundresses, instead slipping on a pair of worn blue jeans and your cowboy boots that you hadn’t had on in years. Climbing in the backseat of your dad’s pickup truck brought back memories you had long forgotten about.

Going to the fair had been a yearly family tradition. You used to get so excited to go, to ride the rides and eat all of the sweet treats. Passing by the lit up town made your heart yearn, you felt a tug you couldn’t quite explain. Maybe you did miss this place. Maybe you missed the quietness, the laid back lifestyle as compared to the bustling pace of the city. You felt a calm wave wash over you as you pressed your temple to the cool glass of the window.

You were pulling into the gravel parking lot, the crunch of the rocks beneath the tires causing you an odd sense of anxiousness. You weren’t sure if it was the anticipation of seeing everyone again, or the nagging feeling that you were going to see Rhett. There was no avoiding it. Tonight was the big event, it seemed like everyone in Amelia County made their way out for it.

Taking in a deep breath and holding it for a few seconds before exhaling, you hopped out of the truck and made your way to the entrance. You walked arm-in-arm with your mother. You knew she was happy to have you back, you knew your father had been driving her crazy.

Martha Livingston was manning the ticket booth like she did every year since you were a little girl. She had more gray in her hair now but she was still the sweetest lady you remembered from your youth. As soon as she saw you, she busted out of the door and wrapped you up in a bone crushing hug.

“Sweet, little Y/N! Well, I guess you aren’t little anymore. My goodness, it’s been, what? Four years?” She had that high pitched voice that might annoy others, but it brought you a sense of comfort.

“Um, six actually. It’s good to see you Mrs. Livingston.”

“Honey, you know it’s Martha to you.” She gave your upper arm a firm squeeze before returning to her post, handing your parents the ticket stubs and sending you on your way.

The smells and sounds of the fair are never changing. The sickeningly sweet smell of funnel cakes and fried apple pies. The earthy smell of the animals and red dirt. The sound of hundreds of people holding different conversations. Bells dinging and children laughing. It all brought a smile to your face.

You said your hellos to familiar faces, telling the same story over and over. Yes, you’re in the city. Yes, it’s been years since you’ve been home for a longer period of time. Yes, you’re still single.

It’s been thirty minutes of exchanges and you were exhausted. You excused yourself to grab a drink, ordering a beer and making your way to the gates to watch the barrel racers. You picked at the label on the glass bottle, enjoying your few moments alone. That was until you felt someone press close into your side.

You looked to your left to see a tall man, clearly intoxicated, smiling down at you.

“Can I help you?” The question came out more snide than you had meant for it to. You couldn’t help it, especially because he was in your personal space.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing standing all alone?” His words were slurred, his breath reeked of liquor. His hand came up to rest on your shoulder and you jerked away like you had been burned.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Oh, c’mon. Let me buy you another beer,” he said, leaning closer to your face. It took everything in you to not gag at the smell of tequila.

“Hey, Duncan! You get your hands off my girl!”

That voice. It caused your heart to stop. A voice you could recognize anywhere. You turned to look over your shoulder to see Rhett stalking towards you. He was dressed in his riding gear, hands balled into fists.

“Your girl?”

“Yes, my girl. Now get the fuck out of here before I break your jaw,” Rhett spat. His hand landed on your waist, protectiveness radiating from his body. Duncan made no effort to move, instead he stepped forward but before he could get in your face, Rhett shielded you. He put his entire body in front of yours and tucked you behind him.

“I think it’s best that you leave, man. I’m serious.”

“Whatever. You know what, you’re not even worth it.” Those words stung even though they were coming from that lowlife.

Rhett turned to face you and all of the breath left your body. His blue eyes stared directly into yours and you knew he was saying something, saw his mouth moving, but the roaring in your ears drowned out the words.

“Hey- hey, you okay? I’m sorry for saying that but I just- I could see you were uncomfortable.” He sounded shy, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down to the ground.

“It’s okay… Thank you for- for protecting me. For stepping in.”

It felt awkward, years have passed but he was still handsome as ever. He looked up at you again from under the brim of his hat and he had that small smile on his face that you couldn’t help but match.

“You look good.” His eyes traveled the length of your body, taking you in. “Nice boots.”

That made you laugh, a genuine sound that bubbled out of your chest. You shoved at his shoulder and grinned at the way his tongue stuck out between his teeth.

You stood there and talked for a few minutes, catching up before he was called back to the trailers by one of his crew mates.

“I’ll uh- can we grab a drink after this? To talk some more?”

“I’d like that. I'd like that a lot actually.”

Your smile warmed his heart, dusting off the cobwebs that had settled there. Seeing you in the stands and cheering his name after his ride gave him hope. Hope that maybe there was something still there.

taglist 🤍: @nobody7102 @endofdays56 @bradleybeachbabe @daughterofthereaper02 @the-ms-mischief @basiccortez @auroralightsthesky @buckys-estrella @hangmanbrainrot @marvelousmermaid @withahappyrefrain @wildbornsiren @queenbbarnes @top-gun-rooster @topgun-imagines @mrstabbymcwolfy @lt-bradshaw @violyn20 @wishing-on-wildflowers @therebeccaw @wkndwlff @luxuryberzatto @a-reader-and-a-writer @t-nd-rfoot @odegaardsreds @mxgyver @goosterroose

#shelby’s 750 celebration! #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott fanfiction #outer range #outer range fanfiction #rhett abbott fluff #seb <3 🐇

[suchananewsblog]

2023 Carroll Shelby Centennial Edition Honors the Founder's 100th Birthday

Shelby American is producing a limited run of 100 Carroll Shelby Centennial Edition Ford Mustangs in celebration of what would have been Carroll Shelby’s 100th birthday this month. Using the 2023 Ford Mustang GT as a base, the Centennial Edition honors its founder with specialty badging throughout the car, while cranking power output from the stock 450 horsepower to an impressive 750…

View On WordPress

[twvstedsouls]

Cold Feet

Form: tommy shelby x fem! reader

Requested? Part of @sophieshelby​’s 750 followers celebration.

Summary: While there are more pressing matters than cold feet, it is the only thing your condition allows you to think of and talk about as you finally manage to reach tommy.

Warnings: blood, blood loss, injury, violence, swearing, smoking and weapons.

Word Count: 3.8K

Author’s Note: Thank you for allowing me to participate in this Sophie, I loved it! You’re a wonderful person and writer, the 750 followers is much deserved, may you have many more ❤️ 

This takes place in season 4. At first I’d planned something fluffy about cold feet and tommy gifting you socks but it refused to be conjured so have this instead. John either doesn’t die or isn’t dead yet here. But Michael is in the hospital. Grace happened in this but isn’t mentioned or in it. I used an online translator to get one word of Italian right, if it’s completely wrong please let me know. I usually don’t mind inaccuracy much but with doing research was very disappointed to find out guns can’t start fires like they do in the movies. The rest of the shelby family is also there. English is my second language.

Seguila – follow her.

Via your friend Elizabeth, who worked as a secretary for one of Birmingham’s more discreet estate agents, you’d come to learn that Luca Changretta and his men had started to become more daring, taking up a property on the outskirts of Birmingham. The logical thing to do, would have been to tell Tommy, however, what you had in mind you were convinced he’d never agreed with. Tommy was determined to keep you as far away from the family business as possible, which, overtime, you’d come to realise just wouldn’t do. Having been ordered to stay inside these last few weeks had only exasperated the problem, making you stir-crazy, itching to do something about it. As a result, you now found yourself alone, inching closer and closer to the property, in one hand your gun, while the other held firm the hand grenade stashed in the pocket of your coat. Another reason for your measured, slow and careful approach. The plan was simple, you’d sneak in, place the hand grenade in an inconspicuous place as John had taught you - a fact he’d likely come to regret ever teaching you after this - and leave an indicator you’d had, though you hadn’t quite decided yet whether you would leave one or not. It was far from perfect, but, doing it alone, you had no choice but to improvise a little, even though you had no guarantee it would be set off, and whether Luca would be there if it did. At best, it meant they would no longer have a base in Birmingham. 

 Elizabeth had been able to find out for you with some difficulty when they wouldn’t be there, and Y/N, having passed by the property twice in the days leading up to today, had confirmed them to be accurate.

 As your other was holding a grenade, you took hold of the door handle with the hand your gun was in, budging it open with some difficulty and making your way inside. Only for you to bump right into a man’s chest, preventing you from moving beyond the threshold. Startled, the man took a step back, revealing two more, at the sight all hope of still being able to go through with your plan evaporated. You had to get out of there. ‘’Hello, apologies for barging in, it seems I have the wrong address.’’ For a moment you thought you’d be able to get away with it, however, while you may have momentarily forgotten about the fact that you were carrying in one hand a hand grenade, and in the other a gun, the others, suspicious of you, had not, their eyes falling on both. ‘’Fuck,’’ you hissed to yourself, realizing as much. Immediately they drew their own guns, training them on you. Not one to tempt fate beyond how much you already had, you swiftly turned around and kicked a crate over on your way out, hoping it would have the effect you were hoping for and slow them down in their pursuit. The moment the door closed behind you, the clattering and shuffling of objects being shoved out of the way to free the door could be heard, along with a curse here and there, followed by what clearly sounded like an order, ‘’Seguila!’’ 

You should have left, should have run, however you had not, something you’d very much come to regret. The sound of the door scraping along the floorboards as it opened filled your veins with dread and cold-hot fear, frantically stuffing the grenade back into your coat to free up your hand. With trembling fingers, you cocked your gun after failing to two times, fingers slipping over the trigger, cocking it the third. Turning around as fast as your body allowed you to, you took the shot the moment they stormed out, barely giving yourself time to look let alone aim.

 Your bullet had missed, one of theirs, much to your dismay, hadn’t, lodging itself firmly in your abdomen. You stumbled backwards at the impact, shaking your head firmly to get over the shock of being shot. While the stinging pain of your injury was blinding, it did wake you up and help you to focus, cover, you needed to find cover. As your eyes started to desperately flit over your surroundings, taking them off of the three men and their guns in front of you, a second managed to graze your leg. The graze made you slump into the stone pillar at your back, the expanse of it was perfect. With some difficulty you dove behind it, tumbling to the ground, providing you with ample cover for now. Firmly pressing the hand you’d emptied earlier to your wound to staunch the bleeding somewhat you bumped your head against the pillar in frustration, ‘’Fuck,’’ you hissed, repeating your earlier words, finding them much more appropriate now in your current predicament, outnumbered and injured. You had to think of something fast.

The grenade. You still had the grenade. Adrenaline surging through your body now, you carefully, but with trembling hands, put your hand into the pocket of your coat, gently taking it out as you grab hold of it.

Your breath started to come out faster and faster, bringing you to the edge of panic as you looked at the grenade in your hand. You can do this. You can do this. You know how to do this. You have to do this.The limited amount of cover and being outnumbered limited your ability to aim, you’d just have to chance it and hope it would be effective enough to allow you to get away. 

Pulling the pin with your other hand you quickly flung it in their direction from behind the pillar. 

The grenade detonated, injuring one of them instantly, making him unable to give chase, while a second was wounded from the fire that burst forth from his left, hot pieces of shrapnel lighting gas soaked rags, cloths and sheets. The third was caught off guard by his fellow men getting injured as well as the sudden fire. Much like the ignition burst of the fire, you’d shot out of your hiding spot and into the nearest alley, away from the three men and certain death.

Tommy sat down on the seat facing the door in case of any trouble while it also gave him full view of the entire room. While he knew they were safe in small heath, especially on watery lane, the family met twice a week to dine together, he had suggested and polly had insisted and that was that. Providing Tommy the much needed peace of mind, though he’d never admit it out loud to any of them. After a glance at his watch, Tommy swept his eyes over the room, checking everyone was there, a habit that had started to become a bit redundant, as it had become clear to all that attendance was not optional but mandatory, until now. Being greeted with your empty seat next to Ada’s occupied one. It was never empty; you were always on time.

 The unfamiliarity of the sight halted Tommy from bringing the cigarette in his hand to his lips, ‘’Is Y/N still working?’’ 

‘’She can’t be, Y/N joined me for tea right after, whatever’s keeping her, it’s not work.’’ Polly told him as she tried to recall if Y/N had said anything that could explain her absence, flicking some ash in the ashtray.

 Tommy doesn’t wait for a reaction, turning to his sibling closest to the phone.

‘’John, her employer, her landlord, even that fucking nosy neighbour of hers, all of them, call them now.’’

 ‘’Yeah, I’m on it Tom.’’ John put his cigar down and hurried over to the phone, almost dropping the horn in his haste as he picked it up, dialling her employer first, even though if Polly was right and she rarely wasn’t, it’d be the last place she’d be.

 He slowly put down the phone so tommy wouldn’t notice right away that he’d finished with the task, however, the fact he’d stopped talking gave John away. To stall, John worried the back of his neck, scratching it. Tommy got up from his seat, leaning his hands on the table, Polly and Arthur’s words not registering at all as his focus was on john now and john alone, his silence making him irritable, ‘’Well?’’ the look John gave him told Tommy everything he needed to know.

‘’Where is she?! Where’s Y/N?’’

‘’Don’t worry brother, stay here, we’ll find her.’’ Arthur reassured Tommy, giving his brother a pat on the shoulder as he rose from his seat. He put his coat on, nodding to his other two. ‘’John, Finn.’’ Finn shrugged off Ada’s concern, rushing to meet Arthur at the door, while John lingered, briefly touching Esme’s cheek in a tender gesture, joining his brothers right after. The last to shrug his coat on, a knock halted the brothers from storming out into the night. A necessary precaution, since they’d received a black hand in the post, the three of them took out and cocked their guns, training them on the door. Leading with his, Arthur swung the door open, only for all tension to leave him at being met with a familiar face, lowering it just as quickly as he’d raised it. ‘’Isaiah, what is it?’’

‘’It’s the Italians, they’re at the border.’’

John’s head appeared in the opening at his words, ‘’Of Birmingham you mean? Yeah, we know.’’ Isaiah shook his head, ‘’No, of Small Heath, they’re here.’’

You stumbled through the brush of the outer edge of Birmingham, feet scuffing over stones and sticks, thick thorn brushes, bare from the winter caught onto your skirt angrily, urging you to stop, to give up and join them in the inviting quiet stillness of their winter landscape. Resisting their lure, you pulled the material free, tearing the fabric as you left nature behind you, exchanging it for the rough warm industrial coldness of Birmingham. While the building had been in the built industrial environment, to avoid a second encounter, a second chance for you to be shot and possibly killed this time, you’d taken the backroads, however, your body was not happy with the length and extra time, as when you took a particular sharp corner, blood bloomed to the surface and started to seep through the fabric of your coat in protest. Just as your pulse thrummed wildly underneath your skin, so did your breathing after brick walls had started to greet you left and right. The similarity of them all disorientating, making your jumbled mind lose track of your route and location one too many times, until all you could taste was your rising anxiety on your tongue. Drowning in single-minded panic, you were only able to think of one thing and one thing only: get home. get home to tommy.

As you were starting to make some progress, all warmth seemed to seep out of your feet, almost as if you’d taken your shoes off and had continued barefoot, the snow seeping into the skin of your feet with each step.

 Simultaneously, your hand was becoming heavier and heavier, the sensation of it confused you, and, in order to rid yourself of it, your fingers slackened around the weight. Fingers shaking at the strain, they trembled at the release of the tension as they opened, making you realise you’d been gripping something, hard, almost painfully so. The object, and the weight with it, your gun, as you’d come to realise the next day, abandoned in the snow-covered ground.

 You couldn’t stop. You couldn’t. Especially not as after a stumble or two which caused your eyes to focus on your feet and the ground below, that you were leaving more than one trail on the snow covered path, one feet shaped and muddled brown in colour, the other a drizzle of dark red. Just as your heartbeat picked up, so did your pace, smudging your clearly defined trail on its way. It was harder for you to identify Watery Lane due to your muddled mind from the blood loss and the snow-covered ground, but eventually you managed it, maybe it was the familiar shapes of the industrial structures looming above, a particular set of curtains in one of the windows, or the familiar feel of the lamppost you hugged to keep yourself upright as you got your bearings, you couldn’t tell.

The only hurdle left was to find the right door. Disoriented and confused, you made the only decision you were able to at the moment, start at the beginning. At the third door the snow made you slip, the adrenaline that had aided you was starting to leave you. With effort you straightened yourself, shuffling over towards the fourth.

Your fist hit the door, once, twice, slipping the second, not enough energy left to do it properly, all you could hope for now was that it was the right door you were knocking on, and not the wrong one.

An odd sort of knocking at the door caused the Shelby brothers to have their cocked guns out and ready, pointed at the door without a thought, each in their own specific yet subtle way had become more on edge since learning from Isaiah the Italians had entered Small Heath, expecting them to burst through the door any minute.

Frozen, the lot of them, Tommy was the one to break first, rushing towards the door, pushing his siblings aside to reach it. Being careless - his mind flooded with the possibility it could be you - Tommy opened it wide, much to his relief he’s greeted by the sight of you, not an enemy, releasing a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

Startling out of it, Tommy hissed at his brothers behind him, ‘’It’s Y/N. Lower your fucking guns. Now.’’ They do, instantly, Arthur almost managing to look ashamed. That over and done with, Tommy pulls you inside, immediately embracing you in his arms after the door falls closed behind you. Releasing you, his hands moved to cup the sides of your face, finally able to have a good look at you. ‘’There you are. Tell me, Y/N, what happened to you, eh? What happened?’’ you didn’t seem to be registering his words all that well and the cold feel of your cheeks against the pad of his thumbs, cheeks he’d been tenderly grazing, had him worried. Frown deepening, he tried again to reach you with words, using the one word he reserved for you and you only. ‘’Love?’’

The word startled you out of your frozen state, a frown mirroring his own marring your features at the thought, frozen. Cold, you were cold. ‘’Thomas, my feet are cold.’’

‘’Your feet?’’ confused, he asked, no urged you, to explain, to help him understand so he could help you. They all looked down at your feet when no explanation followed.

Not expecting to see anything, the state of them almost seemed to freeze time. Blood, your shoes were decorated in drops of blood, some dried, some wet, your blood, and it showed no sign of stopping, eyes trailing upward, spotting the small trail on one of your stockings, darkened by blood dripping from the bottom of your coat. Trying to find the source, Ada’s intake of breath at the back signalled she’d beat Tommy to it, your abdomen.

‘’Get the ambulance! Get the fucking ambulance!’’ he shouted at none in particular, too shocked at the state of you to think clearly enough to do so.

 He sat you down on the couch, reaching for the belt keeping your coat closed when Polly’s hands on his stopped him. ‘’No, leave it, it could be keeping her from bleeding out.’’ Ada spoke up as well, though limited, she’d had some medical training. ‘’Tommy, It’s best to wait for the ambulance.’’ He let go of the belt. Needing to be doing something, anything, his panicked mind caught on to what you’d said earlier, your feet, you’d said your feet were cold. He began to unlace your shoes. His hands kept slipping over the laces at Polly’s concerned hovering, so much so he stopped to face his aunt, turning his head to look at her from his crouched position in front of you, ‘’Pol, get her some blankets.’’ The concern Polly saw in his eyes matched hers, without so many words she left to go get them, the sight of it startling her into action.

 Slipping free the final lace, tommy carefully slipped your shoes off your feet, the loss of which only served as an icy reminder of how cold your feet really were. Much to your relief, the cold was staved off by tommy’s hands taking hold of your feet and rubbing them in an attempt to bring the warmth back into them. Esme had joined the two of you, something which you only became aware of at the feel of her warm hand touching your icy cheek in order to make you focus on her and the glass of water raised to your lips to get some liquid in you. Disoriented, you instinctively started to drink, immediately emptying the glass with her aid, only now realising how thirsty you’d been. Relieved you’d done so, Esme stepped back to give the two of you some room, rejoining Linda and Ada at the table.

 ‘’Look at me, Y/N. Look at me. Stay with me.’’

 His voice caused you to focus once more, looking down, a small fond smile graced your lips as you reached out, lightly touching his cheek to comfort him.

 ‘’Here’s the blankets.’’ With a small nod Tommy hummed at Polly in acknowledgment, accepting the blankets from her without looking, not daring to take his eyes off of you. ‘’Let’s warm you up, eh?’’ voice sounding as if you were only cold from the weather outside, not from blood loss, lacking the urgency and anxiety that was hidden behind it. Tommy carefully draped the blankets on and around you, tucking in the corners with utmost care.

Just as Tommy was satisfied with the result, there was a third and final knock at the door. It was opened this time with a lot less suspicion, as the sirens had signalled as much who it was, though not with any less tension, an urgency to it. ‘’Through there, quickly!’’ Polly being the one who’d beat the brothers to it, no longer content to stay in the background. Polly cared for you, and it showed. ‘’Sir, please stand aside.’’ 

Drowning in worry for you, he hadn’t moved, hadn’t even registered that the ambulance along with the ambulance workers had arrived, only able to focus on keeping your feet warm. Polly gently, but with some urgency nudged her nephew to startle him out of it. ‘’Tommy, do you want Y/N to live, or not? Move.’’

Tommy straightened from his crouched position and stepped back, guided by Polly, giving the ambulance workers the much needed room to work on you and prepare you for departure.

The blankets were taken off of you, a shiver wracking through your sweat coated body at the loss of their warmth. Not able to see the extent of your wound quite yet, you were handled with the utmost care despite the speed, lowered on the stretcher they’d put on the ground. Dizziness cropped up as soon as you were moved, making it harder for you to keep your eyes open and stay conscious. Immediately, practiced hands started tugging and tearing at your coat and blouse to get to your wound. No longer held together by the belt of your coat, the blood once more rushed to the surface of your wound. It was quickly halted in its step by the application of gauze, lots of it. 

It was almost as if the cold you were experiencing had transferred over to him, making him just as immobile and disoriented as you were. Johnny Dogs arrival, likely with an update on the situation, brought a draft from outside, the real cold causing Tommy to get back to himself somewhat. 

Giving you one final look, reassuring him that you were still here and being taken care of, he turned to face his family, clearing his throat before he addressed them.

‘’Right. Isaiah, Finn, Johnny Dogs, you stay here with the women, this could just be a coincidence or it could be part of Luca’s plan but until Y/N is coherent enough to either confirm or deny any of it, we better not take any chances. If it’s part of his plan, it’s possible they’re not quite done with Y/N yet, so me, John and Arthur will follow the ambulance to the hospital. We’ll call with any updates as soon as we have them.’’

The moment he finished speaking the ambulance workers were ready to move you, lifting the stretcher off the ground, they took you outside. With a final nod to those staying behind he followed John and Arthur who’d already gone.

 While Tommy had said he’d follow the ambulance with John and Arthur, seeing your weak form being loaded in the back of the ambulance changed his mind. Ignoring his brothers confused words and the protests of the ambulance workers, he joined you in the back, grasping your hand in his as soon as he’d sat down. Tommy muttered something along the lines of, ‘’In case of an ambush,’’ as an explanation for his actions to his brothers, before waving them and the ambulance workers away, followed by a simple command. ‘’Go.’’

The doors closed, engulfing the both of you in stifling silence and the low glow of a single bulb, though barely audible, your grumbled complaint cut through it, voice straining at the effort, ‘’Tommy, I don’t think I like snow anymore.’’

His hand tightened around yours, your words both a relief and bittersweet to him, a relief as it was a clear sign that while you might leave him one day, that day was not today. If it was, you should no longer have been able to talk. Bittersweet, as he recalled witnessing your joy at your first experience of snow, a joy that no matter how many times you experienced it, never dulled. A joy for it he’d likely never see you exhibit again after today. In his mind though, it was nothing but a small price to pay. ‘‘It’ll be alright, I’ll make sure of it.’’

#sophieshelbys750 #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #thomas shelby #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #merelsfics

[maybankiara]

hi angel, congrats on 750, that’s amazing 🎉💗 cast your mutuals as your favorite tv/movie characters and why 💕

thank you so much cass ♡ this one was so difficult askjf most of my favourite characters are problematic as hell so i picked characters that i really like but no one will be offended lmao

@drewstarkey as john murphy from the 100. he’s quite possibly my all time fave, incredible growth and incredibly chaotic crackhead energy, always down for doing stupid things but a great and loyal friend, definitely someone who can make you feel better but also call you out on your bullshit at the same time and i just know that’s fleur

@spilledtee as bellamy blake from the 100. i’d die for bellamy blake. he’s selfless, he’s the dad of the group, he’s very intent on helping everyone and putting others before himself but he’s also very kind and supportive and you can’t help but love him and tbh i’d say that’s very accurate

@drewsephsmiles as nell crain from the haunting of hill house. i loved nell when i watched it, i feel like she’s just a really honest and genuine person but is often misunderstood and underappreciated, but also loved by the people who understand her and is just an absolute sweetheart.

@adoreyoudrews as thomas shelby from peaky blinders. this is a bit of a weird one (and i haven’t season the latest season) but i feel like lil’s got this ability to get things her way. she’s good with people just like tommy, except there’s (hopefully!!!) no murderous tendencies there. ok i actually don’t know how to explain myself just trust me on this one okay

you as scott mccall from teen wolf. both of you are kind and nice and soft but i have a feeling you’d fight for your friends the way scott does - nothing will prevent him from saving the people he loves. he’s also quite quirky and pure puppy chaotic and just overall very lovable, and i feel like that’s very you

@kiarasflowr as grizz visser from the society. she’s got no beef, she’s chilling and minding her own business and everybody loves her, what are straights, and honestly both grizz and lili deserve the world. 

+ you were one of the first people i followed on here and you’ve quite literally been here with me since my very beginning here and i couldn’t thank you more for that. i know we don’t interact much, but you’ve got a special place in my heart and i hope you know it ♡

come celebrate with me!

#750 celebration #this was honestly difficult as fuck #and i would've done more but books weren't allowed lol #and i mostly love characters from books lmao #mutuals casting #jjtheangel

[kentonramsey]

Lizzo Reveals What’s In Her Tiny Bag & People Love It

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA – NOVEMBER 24: Lizzo attends the 2019 American Music Awards at Microsoft Theater on November 24, 2019 in Los Angeles, California. (Photo by Emma McIntyre/Getty Images for dcp)

It’s been less than two months since Lizzo’s XS Maison Valentino bag took the Internet by storm — getting its own Twitter account to boot — and the Cuz I Love You singer isn’t ready to let it go. Yesterday, Lizzo took to her TikTok page (followed by Instagram) to finally share what she really keeps inside her tiny purse, and like the artist herself, the contents were hilarious. 

“Hey Lizzo, you got a pencil?”, celebrity hairstylist Shelby Swain is heard asking the singer from across the room, to which Lizzo responded, “You know I got you.” What happened next, though, is when things really got interesting. In the video, Lizzo, dressed in a “Good As Hell”-embellished long-sleeved bodysuit paired with a hot pink harness, proceeded to pull a full-sized pencil out of her lilac Jacquemus Le Chiquito mini bag. 

View this post on Instagram

YALL WANNA KNOW WHATS IN MY TINY BAG BITCH? 😏

A post shared by Lizzo (@lizzobeeating) on Jan 13, 2020 at 11:26am PST

Simon Jacquemus’ ubiquitous Le Chiquito bag measures in at 9 cm high and 12 cm wide, whereas a standard #2 pencil is about 19 cm long, making Lizzo’s casual retrieval an impossible feat. That is, unless she put an Undetectable Extension Charm on the bag like Hermoine did in Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows, but that’s a theory for another day. 

Things quickly escalated when Swain asked the singer where the remote is. After ruffling through her purse, which couldn’t be larger than a box of Animal Crackers, she’s finally able to yank it out and toss it across the room. 

Altogether, the minute-long video shows Lizzo extracting one travel tub of potato chips, a 750 ml bottle of red wine, a slime green lace dress (her outfit for the night), and a spare wig for Swain — which, according to the singer, is the only thing that she doesn’t have room for in her bag. 

The video, captioned, “YALL WANNA KNOW WHATS IN MY TINY BAG BITCH? 😏” is already making the rounds on social media. And just like her first rendezvous with a tiny purse, the reactions are perfection.

I was hoping it was chicken nuggets. Guess the “Truth Hurts”

— Jeffrey Fermin. (@JeffFermin) January 13, 2020

I want to be lizzo’s tiny purse

— uchi personality (@clamslap) January 13, 2020

Gonna get tiktok just to watch Lizzo.

— SJ (@sophiejames2303) January 14, 2020

📣 GUYS WE FINALLY KNOW WHAT @lizzo KEEPS IN THOSE TINY BAGS! 📣 pic.twitter.com/jXdyU4SGEJ

— TikTok (@tiktok_us) January 14, 2020

It’s officially been confirmed, @lizzo is secretly Mary Poppins 🤭😂💯 #TikTok https://t.co/wHbQduHvG0

— DJ-K (Kenji) ♀️♂️🏳️‍🌈 (@Deejay_K88) January 14, 2020

Related Content:

Like what you see? How about some more R29 goodness, right here?

Lizzo's Tiny Bag Just Got Its Own Twitter Account

Lizzo Sings Holiday Version Of "Good As Hell"

Everything You Need For A Lizzo Halloween Costume

Lizzo Reveals What’s In Her Tiny Bag & People Love It published first on https://mariakistler.tumblr.com/

[adriansmithcarslove]

2017 Shelby Super Snake Celebrates Model’s 50th Anniversary

Fifty years have passed since the first Super Snake growled out of the Shelby American factory. To celebrate this milestone anniversary, the company is reinventing the icon. The 2017 Shelby Super Snake uses a supercharged version of the Ford Mustang GT’s 5.0-liter V-8 making at least 670 hp.

“In a world filled with sterile cars, [the Super Snake] is a throwback to a time when people enjoyed driving,” said Gary Patterson, president of Shelby American, in a release.

Shelby American partnered with Ford Performance, Borla, Michelin, Wilwood, and others to create the 2017 Super Snake. In top trim, the Super Snake’s V-8 produces over 750 hp thanks to a Whipple or Kenne Bell supercharger; Shelby says that automatic transmission-equipped variants are able to hit 60 mph in just 3.5 seconds and blitz the quarter mile in 10.9 seconds on street-rated Michelin tires.

Each Super Snake comes with an exclusive set of Shelby spec dampers, upgraded sway bars, springs, and bushings; behind the front wheels are six-piston Wilwood calipers, while four-piston units sit at rear, aided by upgraded cooling ducts. Rounding out the package is an exterior body kit exclusive to the 50th Anniversary Edition and a host of interior improvements. Just 500 copies of the 50th Anniversary Edition model will be produced.

For added personalization and performance, customers can opt for an extreme cooling package, Ford Performance half shafts, a one-piece drive shaft, Ford Performance wheel studs, a short throw shifter, 3:73 gears, a Katzkin leather seat, and four-point roll bar. Those wanting to go even further can have the rear seats deleted as well.

Those of you wondering how much all of this costs might be surprised, as the Super Snake has a starting price of $69,995 including the Ford Mustang GT donor car. For that, you get more horsepower than a Hellcat, less weight, and a three-year, 36,000-mile limited powertrain warranty from Shelby. Those that already have a Mustang GT can grab the Super Snake package by itself for $36,795.

“When Carroll Shelby introduced the Super Snake version of the Ford Mustang in 1967, it earned universal respect for its astonishing capabilities,” said Shelby co-CEO Joe Conway. “When Shelby American reintroduced the Super Snake in 2007; the world was awed by the 600+ horsepower street legal muscle car. That tradition continues with our newest Shelby Super Snake, which is better in every way. Carroll’s bold spirit lives on through this amazing car.”

Source: Shelby American

The post 2017 Shelby Super Snake Celebrates Model’s 50th Anniversary appeared first on Motor Trend.

via RSSMix.com Mix ID 8134279 http://ift.tt/2iXM0tb

#IFTTT #RSSMix.com Mix ID 8134279

[fiamma-e-il-caneciccio]

Storie del sottobosco

https://www.ilgiornaledellarte.com/articoli/2011/5/107938.html

Tra i 140 faldoni sequestrati nel 2001 a Gianfranco Becchina (il mercante di antichità recentemente rinviato a giudizio per associazione a delinquere dal gup del Tribunale di Roma, cfr. n. 307, mar. ’11, p. 2, Ndr) nella sede e in tre magazzini della sua Palladion Antike Kunst a Basilea (lo spazio di memoria di 16 film: due carabinieri hanno impiegato due mesi per fotografarli), quelli numerati dall’87 all’89 sono intestati al re del rame George Ortiz Patiño. Boliviano nato a Parigi 84 anni fa, sotto la villa di Ginevra possiede un museo inaccessibile: della collezione in esso ospitata sono noti soltanto 280 capolavori che sono andati in mostra a metà degli anni Novanta alla Royal Academy di Londra, all’Altes Museum di Berlino, all’Ermitage di San Pietroburgo e al Puskin di Mosca (Philippe de Montebello, che dirigeva il Metropolitan, ha declinato l’ospitalità). Nel faldone 87, Ursula Juraschek detta Rosie, moglie di Gianfranco Becchina nata a Rostock, allora Germania Orientale, registra dare e avere. A fine 1986 gli invia un «conteggio riassuntivo» (i due erano in società al 50 per cento, capitale di 5 milioni di franchi svizzeri, quasi 4 milioni di euro) e acclude il resoconto del venduto: «Corredo guerriero bronzo» (370mila dollari), «cinque vasi bronzo pompeiani» (120mila franchi), «affresco pompeiano Dionysos» (150mila), e così via. Ovviamente, nessuna provenienza: quella degli scavi clandestini, non è possibile declinarla. È solo uno dei 13mila documenti confiscati a Becchina, con sentenza del Gup di Roma; con 6.315 reperti, 4 mila fotografie e 3.416 immagini digitali dell’archivio, stando ai conti dell’archeologa Daniela Rizzo della Soprintendenza per l’Etruria meridionale, consulente dei magistrati. Un compendio di 30 anni di commerci, fino al 2000, il cui acuto è il famoso kouros ceduto al Getty nel 1984 forse per oltre 7 milioni di euro: quello per cui Federico Zeri non volle più collaborare con il museo, e che, se fosse vero, sarebbe uno dei 13 esemplari intatti al mondo. Ma probabilmente non lo è (oltre a Zeri, lo disconobbero anche il celebre restauratore Pico Cellini e Thomas Hoving, già direttore del Metropolitan); come falsi sono alcuni dei documenti che lo scortavano: una lettera del 1952 ha un codice postale di 20 anni successivo; un’altra, del 1955, un conto bancario aperto nel 1963. Quattro passi in questo archivio sono assai istruttivi: insegnano tantissimo sulla Grande razzia che, soltanto in Italia, ha comportato lo scavo clandestino di un milione di oggetti e indagini su 10mila persone, ma ben poche restituzioni da sei musei e da una collezionista americana (Shelby White; a lei e al marito Leon Levy è intitolata la nuova ala greco-romana del Metropolitan, finanziata con 20 milioni di dollari), e dai galleristi-venditori Jerome Eisenberg, della Royal-Athena Gallery a New York (una decina di pezzi, alcuni sottratti a musei) e (300 reperti) il giapponese Noriyoshi Horiuchi, con base in Svizzera. Quello con Ortiz è un rapporto privilegiato, anche se non il solo. Comprende, ad esempio, un «lotto» di cinque «tombe del Sud Italia» (600mila euro) e un «corredo 12 vasi, Lucania» (poco di più); ricevute «per acquisto» di interi «corredi di tombe del Sud Italia», o di una «grande pelike con iscrizioni».  Talora, si dice altro: un pugnale ha manico d’osso, misura 31 centimetri e allegata è una polaroid prima del restauro, a scavo di frodo appena avvenuto; un «corredo di tomba Sud Italia» è composto da un «vaso dorato e innumerevoli altri»; un altro, da «grandi crateri a volute, corazza con gambali e decorazione cavallo». Acquisti e vendite «alla grande»: tra le ricevute intestate a Ortiz per i due corredi (200mila euro la prima e 110mila la seconda), corrono esattamente sette giorni, ad agosto 1986. E due settimane prima, un terzo corredo costa 160mila euro: «Innumerevoli vasi di cui alcuni di pregevole fattura, la maggior parte frammentata ma completa». Vale meno, 60mila euro, un «ritratto di Adriano, marmo, romano», mostrato da tre foto; come ci sono le immagini di cinque «vasi pompeiani in bronzo», o di una «collana d’oro falisca». La provenienza illegale è sottintesa: non se ne indica mai una legittima, né il luogo dello scavo, o la data. Del resto, Ortiz non ha problemi: colleziona dal 1950; a Roma va sotto processo già nel 1961 (se la cava con la condizionale, come un altro grande mercante, Herbert Cahn che non c’è più); la «Triade Capitolina» estratta da Pietro Casasanta e restituita al confine svizzero nel 1993, per gli investigatori era sua: l’aveva comperata da un altro trafficante, Mario Bruno, e la offriva a un museo americano per 25 milioni di euro (è l’unica scultura in cui le tre maggiori divinità di Roma siano ancora assieme). Proprio Casasanta, «il re dei tombaroli» secondo il «Wall Street Journal», spiega ai pm: «Ho i miliardi e avevo un cliente dei più importanti al mondo; una spalla come Mario Bruno, uno grosso, con il cliente dietro, George Ortiz, che dice “con voi due ci prendiamo l’Etruria; i soldi li ho io, non esiste problema”; e noi già progettavamo l’ira di Dio; compreso un negozio a Cerveteri, per comprare dai tombaroli. Un negozio civetta». Ortiz chiarisce che ha iniziato a collezionare «dopo aver perduto la fede ed essere divenuto marxista» (trova la verità, e l’arte, in un viaggio in Grecia); da «umanista e collezionista» contesta le convenzioni Unesco 1970 e Unidroit 1995, che vincolano gli Stati alla lotta ai clandestini: per lui sono «frutto dell’utopia che ogni oggetto abbia una naturale collocazione e debba restare in situ; l’arte, se come in passato disseminata nel mondo, è tra i maggiori fattori di progresso, sviluppo intellettuale e comprensione tra i popoli». Torniamo all’archivio di Becchina, in cui non manca nessuno dei più bei nomi. Né tra quanti lo riforniscono, né tra quanti comperano da lui. Ad aprile 1992 subisce una perquisizione, in un’indagine di mafia della Dia di Palermo; l’avvocato romano Bruno Leuzzi lo cava dai guai: dimostra anche che Becchina ha ben altre fonti di reddito. Elenca la Palladion (nel 1976, i 150 pezzi maggiori del negozio valevano due milioni di dollari); la ditta di cementi Atlas, di cui Becchina è a lungo amministratore unico (solo nel 1993, compera 131 tonnellate di cemento dalla Grecia); la tenuta di ulivi e l’olio verde con cui Clinton e Bush hanno condito l’insalata; alcuni dei musei suoi clienti. L’Ashmolean di Oxford nel 1975; la Columbia University, il Louvre e il Ninagawa di Hurashiki, in Giappone, nel 1976; il Boston e il Metropolitan nel 1979; l’archeologico di Utrecht l’anno dopo; quelli dell’Università di Washington e di Kassel nel 1981; poi, la Princeton University e quella di Yale, ovviamente il Getty, perfino il Limc, il Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae, che però è un’enciclopedia con sede a Zurigo, cui partecipano 40 Paesi. Tra queste carte, tante prove di transazioni di oggetti non proprio immacolati. Anche con le grandi case d’asta, che non andavano per il sottile, finendo per «lavare» i reperti senza origine, quindi clandestini, come si fa con i «narcodollari». Il 31 maggio 1988 il mercante invia a Sotheby’s a Londra una fattura di 320 franchi svizzeri per altrettante foto a colori, foto non restituite, evidentemente di oggetti posti in vendita; e un’altra identica fattura reca la data di un anno prima. Se Sotheby’s l’abbia onorata, non si sa; ma il documento vale a indicare (un franco per ogni immagine) l’entità del commercio. Andare a passeggio tra queste carte fa scoprire l’origine di tanti oggetti di un altro strano mercante, Horiuchi che, a sentire qualche collega, non aveva neppure i soldi per sedersi a tavola con gli altri «trafficanti», e si accontentava di un sandwich al bar di fronte, finché non è incaricato da madre e figlia Koyama, Mihoko e Hiroko, di costituire il Miho Museum vicino a Kyoto, l’edificio di Ieoh Ming Pei aperto nel 1997 a Shiga con una spesa di 750 milioni di dollari, 350 dei quali per formarne le collezioni. Dopo una perquisizione degli inquirenti italiani nei suoi depositi svizzeri che certificò il suo possesso di 15mila reperti, Horiuchi ne ha restituiti 300 all’Italia. Fino al 1990 sono documentate transazioni per oltre 3,5 milioni di euro con Becchina. Ma anche ingenti debiti. Nel 1991 Becchina stipula un accordo davanti a un legale con Horiuchi e altri quattro creditori (Aldo Crivelli e Djamshid Daftary, di Basilea e Ginevra, e le ditte Serpe e Bodo Shöps, di Zug e Gstaad): in attesa di saldare il debito, Horiuchi eviterà almeno i maggiori acquisti, ma intanto Becchina cataloga a suo nome foto e vendite di vasi e piatti, a figure rosse, del Pittore di Sacco e di quello di Baltimora. In questo formidabile archivio si dissolvono svariati misteri. Nel 1992, per le tre mostre sugli Etruschi a Venezia, Parigi e Berlino organizzate da Palazzo Grassi (un capolavoro di Paolo Viti ai tempi Fiat), Massimo Pallottino (come Mario Torelli nella sua mostra del 2000) vuole un’hydria a figure nere del museo di Toledo, Ohio. Alta 52 centimetri, raffigura la fine del rapimento di Dioniso raccontato da Omero: il dio trasforma i pirati tirrenici colpevoli in delfini (foto 1); e gli uomini-pesce che si tuffano nel Tirreno sono un hapax, un unico che anticipa perfino le Metamorfosi di Escher. L’oggetto è in mostra con provenienza ignota: troppo bello perché uno studioso resista alla tentazione di esporlo. Reca un’attribuzione dubbia: forse, il Pittore del Vaticano; la data è tra il 510-500 a.C.; il museo l’ha acquisito nel 1982. Nel 2001, dopo la perquisizione nei depositi di Becchina a Basilea, si scopre dove: agli atti ci sono lettere, fatture, fotocopia dell’assegno. Trasportato dalla British Airways; pagato non molto: 90mila dollari; un certificato con cornice istoriata lo accredita al Pittore di Micali e «giustifica» (si fa molto per dire) la provenienza: «Comprato sul mercato da un collezionista privato svizzero, dal cui erede l’ho rilevato nel 1980; era stato da poco pubblicato da una rivista di Monaco». Avalla l’origine una dichiarazione firmata da Karl Haug, su carta intestata dell’Hotel Helvetia, che egli ha venduto a Becchina, come la Palladion; ma i Carabinieri trovano analoghi documenti in bianco nell’archivio, con lo stesso timbro già stampato a metà facciata: facile riempirli a posteriori. «È forse il più bel vaso di Vulci», commenta Daniela Rizzo. Già, perché proviene proprio da lì e, quando in Italia sono iniziate le indagini, viene ritirato di corsa dalla mostra veneziana di Torelli, aperta da poco, per timore di un sequestro. Chissà perché mai finora non è stato restituito all’Italia. Come un cratere del Pittore di Ixion, o Issione, attivo a Capua dal 350 al 325 a.C., con il massacro dei pretendenti da parte di Ulisse (foto 2), alto 45 cm, che è al Louvre e di cui Becchina conserva tutta la documentazione: dalle visite a Basilea di Alain Pasquier, allora direttore del dipartimento delle antichità, alle trattative per cederlo a Boston (dice il curator, John Hermann, che il direttore è rimasto «sconvolto» dalla cifra richiesta; ma egli mostrerà l’opera a Levy), alla vendita, forse per 290mila dollari, nel 1987 a Parigi dove, a dicembre, approda anche una psykter del VI sec. a.C. del Gruppo di Lisippide, «decorata con Dioniso, menade e satiri», per 350mila euro; a madame Guide, capo servizio delle Opere d’arte della Réunion des Musées nationaux, il mercante scrive che il vaso, alto 40 centimetri, è integro, con pochi restauri. Poi, emette una fattura a 60 giorni e registra il saldo a tre mesi dalla consegna. Ci sono anche singolari dilemmi. Sia Medici sia Becchina hanno sempre smentito, quasi con reciproco sdegno, qualsiasi contatto tra loro. Ma come ha scoperto Maurizio Pellegrini, un altro dei periti, possiedono immagini coincidenti di pezzi clandestini. Un’anfora attica a figure rosse con Eracle e Apollo in lotta per il tripode di Delfi del pittore di Geras (foto 5), alta 45 cm, è stata restituita dal Getty che l’aveva comperata nel 1979, con tanto di fattura, da Becchina, ma figura anche, ancora sporca di terra, nelle polaroid di Medici. Come un askos a forma di anatra del Gruppo Clusium (foto 4), analogamente tornato e proveniente da Becchina, anche se, per il museo, era ufficialmente «dono di Vasek Polak». Becchina ha la foto di un piatto attico a figure rosse di 22 centimetri di diametro, prima e dopo il restauro: uno dei 21 (un «servizio» unico al mondo decorato con guerrieri, servitori, danzatrici, satiri, pescatori) proposti al Getty da Medici tramite Robert Hecht (che cede al Metropolitan il cratere di Eufronio con La morte di Sarpedonte nel 1972: il primo pezzo pagato da un museo un milione di dollari), e trattati per due milioni di dollari dal curator Marion True. Lei scrive dispiaciuta a Medici che, per la prima volta, il direttore del museo le ha detto di no: non intende investire una tale somma «in 21 opere dello stesso autore» (quando si dice la sapienza scientifica!). I Carabinieri li ritroveranno nel 1995, nel sancta sanctorum di Medici, nel Porto franco di Ginevra (molto è iniziato da lì), e ora sono, finalmente, al museo di Villa Giulia, a Roma. Tra i 140 faldoni di Becchina abbondano quelli del fornitori: middleman e trafficanti in contatto con chi scavava, ma anche tombaroli in proprio. Ci sono fatture pagate a Casasanta nel 1986, per un cratere apulo frammentato e un’antefissa di terracotta (ma kratere e terrakotta sono scritti con la kappa), e per 12 pezzi, di cui «tre affreschi pompeiani». Ben cinque fascicoli sono intestati a «Raf», Raffaele Monticelli di Taranto: il primo, in queste vicende, sottoposto a misura di prevenzione e confisca del patrimonio in cui figura anche un intero stabile a Firenze, certo non frutto del lavoro di maestro. Sulla sua Volvo, trovati sei milioni di lire, vari telefoni e schede non solo italiane, la fotocopia di un interrogatorio a Roma per l’export di «enormi fortune archeologiche», quando è sorpreso nel Foggiano, vicino ad Ascoli Satriano, dove erano stati segnalati nuovi scavi clandestini dopo quello che, nel 1978, ha fruttato il trapezophoros, ormai restituito dal Getty: il sostegno di tavolo rituale in marmo policromo con due grifoni che sbranano una cerva. In quell’occasione, i pezzi finirono a Medici (che ne aveva anche le foto dopo lo scavo) e poi a due grandi mercanti come Hecht e Robin Symes di Londra: Monticelli si sarebbe risentito per la violazione del territorio. Frida Tchacos, un’altra antiquaria-mercante (galleria Nefer di Zurigo) arrestata nel 2002 a Cipro, parla all’allora Pm Ferri di «un preciso triangolo tra Hecht, Becchina e Monticelli», fornitore «di ogni cosa si trovasse nel Sud Italia, vasi apuli, terrecotte, bronzi»; la stessa moglie di Becchina, arrestata in Svizzera nel 2001, lo qualifica come uno dei maggiori fornitori della «casa». È esperto soprattutto di monete: Becchina lo stipendia ogni mese, ufficialmente per la pulizia delle stesse; le ricevute dei versamenti arrivano fino al 1994. Ma un decennio più tardi, Monticelli è condannato a 4 anni: al processo si scopre che alcuni tombaroli non sono pagati in base ai ritrovamenti, come di solito, bensì salariati mensilmente. Comunque sia, ad esempio nel luglio 1968 Raf vende a Becchina 20 vasi apuli assieme; ci sono conti da 120 e 275mila franchi svizzeri, anche due dozzine di anfore al mese. Da Monticelli ha origine uno dei grandi misteri irrisolti di queste vicende. Tra i documenti di Becchina ci sono la foto di una grande arula arcaica in terracotta decorata con scene mitologiche rilevata da Monticelli nel 1993 e un appunto di Hecht del 16 ottobre 1995: «Domani sapremo se il Met l’acquista». Non l’ha fatto, ma il reperto è sparito, non risulta tra quelli sequestrati a Becchina. In una polaroid l’arula è appena scavata, ancora con notevoli incrostazioni, manca della parte superiore e di una delle due figure femminili laterali, misura 70 cm per lato, conserva tracce di policromia e riporta la sigla «Raf-132» e la data «13.10.93». Il pezzo risulta in uno degli elenchi (il 132 appunto, ma quanti sono?) dei materiali spediti da Monticelli, in cui se ne precisa anche il valore, 150mila franchi svizzeri, 115mila euro. Altre foto della stessa arula sono nel faldone dedicato a Hecht: prima e dopo il restauro, con appunti, note e disegni che indicano l’interesse per lo straordinario oggetto. Per conferirgli parvenza di legittimità, Hecht lo pubblica in un catalogo della sua Atlantis Antiquities. Scavato in Sud Italia, chissà dov’è ora. Allo stesso modo non si sa dove sia sparita (anche se i Carabinieri del Nucleo Tutela Patrimonio Culturale ammettono di avere qualche idea) un’antichità davvero eclatante: il terzo esemplare al mondo di Sarcofago degli sposi estratto da Cerveteri, non bello come quello esposto a Villa Giulia a Roma, ma più integro di quello conservato al Louvre. Ecco la storia di questo reperto datato al 530 a.C.: il 10 febbraio 1992 un corriere specializzato di Basilea di cui si serve Becchina, la Haller, consegna un carico spedito da Lugano da parte del trafficante Mario Bruno. È indicato come top secret, pesa 525 chili; contiene l’oggetto ritratto in una polaroid in un magazzino (forse quello Haller) appena sballato. È il coperchio del sarcofago con due sposi sdraiati sul fianco sinistro. La prima volta che vede la foto Antonio Giuliano, grande archeologo, sentenzia: «Falso». Perché? «Non può essere vero». Poi, i bravissimi Carabinieri per la Tutela, e i giudici, mi hanno spiegato che Giuliano sbagliava. Segnalato l’avvenuto scavo clandestino a Cerveteri, inizio anni Novanta, il giorno dopo si fa il «ripasso» del luogo. Archeologi e militi rinvengono i piedini degli sposi mancanti sul coperchio che, periziati, ne dimostrano l’autenticità. Ma sempre nell’archivio Becchina, in uno dei due nutriti faldoni dedicati a Bruno, già socio anche di Medici proprio a Cerveteri, v’è traccia di lunghe attività di scavo in comune e i due sembrano paritari, anche con «secondi fornitori» che setacciano il terreno a caccia dei frammenti mancanti: evidentemente non sempre li recuperano tutti. Da tempo i Carabinieri sono sulle tracce dell’oggetto; Becchina dice d’averlo rispedito a Bruno, intanto defunto, ma nell’archivio non un solo pezzetto di carta suffraga l’ipotesi. È stato restituito all’Italia il Cratere a calice a figure rosse alto 70 cm venduto al Getty da Becchina (con lui è costato il processo al tombarolo che l’ha scavato) per 550mila dollari nel 1988. Si tratta del più grande cratere firmato da Assteas (al centro della fascia a palmette che corre sotto la scena), celebre artista attivo a Paestum nel IV sec. a.C. È stato estratto a Sant’Angelo dei Goti, in provincia di Benevento, dove, a fine Settecento, furono trovati grandi vasi «venduti a William Hamilton e poi confluiti nel British Museum», ricorda Stefano De Caro; in una polaroid si intravede la faccia dello scavatore che, felice, lo mostra appena trovato. Ritrae una delle prime effigi di Europa (foto 3), la giovane donna che Zeus, fattosi toro e tutto bianco, rapisce in riva al mare e porta a Creta, tra due donne-tritone meravigliate. Il pezzo, inedito, viene ceduto a Becchina per un milione di lire e «un porcetto da latte» che incuriosirà gli inquirenti e i legali americani, poco avvezzi al tradizionale pagamento in natura. Nel 1987 lo pubblica il Getty, ma nel 2005 lo deve restituire. La polaroid si trovava (con un’«Artemide marciante», altro splendido recupero) sull’automobile di Pasquale Camera, ex ufficiale della Guardia di Finanza che «dirazza» e lavora con i «predatori dell’arte perduta». Camera muore nell’agosto 1995 su un rettifilo dell’autostrada Napoli-Roma mentre va a Fiumicino dove ha appuntamento con Frida Tchacos che i Carabinieri stanno intercettando («ascoltiamo in diretta perfino le condoglianze», dice uno di loro), e l’indagine comincia. Camera aveva raccontato a un altro predatore, Danilo Zicchi, una storia mai chiarita: «Ai tempi del Mundial di calcio del 1990», dice questi, qualcuno che «lo porta senza problemi in Svizzera approfittando dell’evento», vende «un tesoro di oltre 100 pezzi d’argenteria» da Pompei che può rivaleggiare con gli unici due noti: quello donato da Edmond de Rothschild al Louvre, scavato nel 1895 a Villa Pisanella di Boscoreale e quello conservato al Museo archeologico di Napoli, dissepolto dalla Casa del Menandro a Pompei nel 1930, 118 pezzi, il massimo numero mai rinvenuto. Il misterioso tesoro del 1990 sarebbe stato scavato da un «anziano» insiema a «centinaia di monete d’oro e d’argento, della dinastia Giulio Claudia». Ceduto a un tombarolo legato a Monticelli, Benedetto D’Aniello, che «lo vende a Medici», dice sempre Zicchi. E gli argenti prendono la solita via della Svizzera, «approfittando del viavai per il Mundiàl». In parte finiscono a Londra: a Symes, che per pagarli deve farsi finanziare in banca; e in parte a un inglese d’origine persiana noto come Batman. D’Aniello riceve qualche milione di euro, e Symes sborsa cinque volte tanto, continua Zicchi; Medici si assicura il guadagno maggiore; Camera mostra anche un paio di foto di quel tesoro sparito. Basta con i misteri irrisolti, parliamo dei mille e mille affari, tutti ben documentati, di Becchina. Uno studioso chiede se certi oggetti vengano da Pompei, e Rosie ne protocolla anche il ringraziamento «perché avete girato la mia missiva a chi ha scavato». Nel 1990 Becchina cede per 4 milioni di euro alla Merrin Gallery di New York 32 bronzi nuragici dal IX al VI sec. a.C. (sacerdotesse, guerrieri, navi e animali). Lavora molto con Mario Bruno, poi con il figlio Ettore: oltre 300 reperti in pochi anni. Ha stretti contatti con Elia Borowsky, che ormai non c’è più: dai suoi reperti è nato, a Gerusalemme, davanti a quello dei Rotoli del Mar Morto, il Museo delle Terre bibliche, infarcito di oggetti assai dubbi. Poi litigano e seguono denuncia e  condanna di Becchina. Umberto Guarnaccia, suo prestanome, propone perfino affari al Vaticano, ma Oltretevere allerta i Carabinieri. Becchina i clienti non li attende, se li cerca. Scrive e manda foto all’armatore greco Niarchos, che era in affari con Medici e aveva acquistato, pare per 3 milioni di dollari, una bella hydria ceretana con una pantera e una leonessa, ma questi ringrazia e rifiuta. Offre materiali ai Levy-White, che gli replicano di non essere «interessati alle teste d’oro», ma alla ceramica: nel 1987, comprano cinque pezzi, tra cui un’hydria di mezzo metro del Pittore di Priamo. È in rapporto con tutti i «grandi» del mestiere: cede «diversi frammenti» a von Bothmer con l’expertise di Jiri Frel, il predecessore di Marion True al Getty, che quando è costretto a lasciare va ospite di Becchina a Castelvetrano (trovata una sua carta d’identità), e poi vive a Roma fino alla morte; offre per 250mila euro a Tokyo una copia in marmo di mezzo metro dell’Apoxoumenos. Dal tombarolo romano Paolo Martinelli compra, tutti insieme, «90 piccoli vasi a figure rosse, 25 bronzetti, 3 vasi attici, 5 teste in terracotta, un affresco del I sec.» e altro. Manda sei affreschi all’Acanthus Gallery di New York; la dogana di Chiasso gliene sequestra altri sette, larghi due metri, nel 1978: prova a dire che sono libanesi, ma vengono da Paestum (dove tornano nel 1980) e l’affare sfuma. Al Getty, 19 cessioni nel 1979, 16 nel 1980, 13 nel 1982 (ma una sono «20 teste di terracotta»). Nel 1983, 50 pezzi apuli, da Canosa e Taranto, a Ortiz: vetri romani, lekythos e kylix attiche a figure nere. Nel 1994, passa anche, forse per Ortiz, una non meglio specificata «testa di bronzo» per 1,2 milioni di franchi svizzeri. Ne è trascorso di tempo da quando Becchina faceva l’emigrante in Sardegna, nel bar di uno zio, o quando raggiungeva la Confederazione come inserviente all’Hotel Helvetia, poi divenuto suo. L’archivio è uno dei documenti più illuminanti di questa orribile storia: ci si potrebbe scrivere sopra un intero libro. Contiene l’avventura completa di un mercante dei più famosi; nel 1990, per ottenere contanti necessari alla sua attività, tratta la cessione in pegno di una raccolta di monete antiche del valore di 800 mila dollari. Vent’anni dopo si ritira dagli affari (garantisce) e vive a Castelvetrano; vede sullo sfondo i templi di Selinunte, il suo luogo natale. Che fosse un predestinato?

Fabio Isman, da Il Giornale dell'Arte numero 309, maggio 2011

[rhettabbotts]

smut prompt 139 with rhett??

you give me fever - rhett abbott

pairing: dilf!rhett abbott x babysitter!reader

summary: you did a little shopping for your weekend getaway with rhett and you can’t wait to show him what you bought.

w/c: 3.9k

warnings: 18+ only. smut. afab reader. age gap (reader is mid 20s, rhett is late 30s). unprotected sex (has been discussed beforehand, wrap it up folks). dirty talk. daddy kink. oral (m and f receiving). riding. breeding kink. creampie. i believe that is all.

prompt: “i bought a few pieces of lingerie. want me to model for you?”

a/n: surprise! here’s the dilf rhett fic i promised months ago! if it sucks you didn’t see this.. a big thank you to jo @mayhem24-7forever for looking this over for me love you mwah!

“I’ll meet you at 6.”

You sucked in a deep breath as you read the text repeatedly. Four hours until six and you were already a trembling mess. Rhett had suggested going out of town for the weekend one night a couple of weeks prior as you laid in his arms. You were ecstatic about being with him for a full weekend. Since the beginning of your relationship you had never had an entire weekend of uninterrupted time together.

Rhett had been divorced for nearly three years by the time he hired you as the babysitter. He had two beautiful girls who you adored like your own. His wife had left him unexpectedly, running off with his best friend who she had been secretly sleeping with for a year before leaving Rhett. It broke Rhett’s heart and his girls were young, almost too young to understand why their mother moved away. He tried it on his own for a while but once they both started school, he knew he needed the help.

His mother suggested you to him. She knew that you were in between jobs after finishing grad school, returning home for a while. You didn’t think babysitting was in your cards but when you met Rhett and then met his girls, you knew you were meant for the job. Rhett felt the same way. There was something about you being there with them that just felt right. His girls were laughing everyday and you even had him smiling - a lot more than he has the past few years.

Tensions were rising between you and Rhett as the months passed by. Flirtatious comments were exchanged on the daily but you never dreamed anything would come from it.

You weren’t sure how it happened, you weren’t planning on it to happen but one night when you stayed for a glass of wine you kissed him. It was an innocent kiss, a small peck to the lips that was barely there but you couldn’t deny the spark you felt when you felt his stubble brush against your skin.

Rhett had set his wine glass down and you were afraid he was going to tell you off, tell you to leave and never come back but he didn’t. Instead, he grabbed your face with both of his hands, his palms warm and callused. He looked at you in a way you have never been looked at before. It sent chills over your entire body.

“Honey…” Rhett whispered deeply. His nose knocked against your own before pressing his forehead to yours. “Are you sure about this?”

“I’ve never been so sure in my life.”

He was kissing you, months of want seeping out through the rough kiss.

From that moment on, it was hard to keep your hands off each other. It had been nearly six months and you were both still insatiable.

So, when Rhett suggested a weekend away with just the two of you, you couldn’t resist.

Your room looked like a tornado had torn through it with the copious amount of clothes you had strewn all over the place. You couldn’t decide what to pack, knowing clothes weren’t going to matter. If you had it your way, you wouldn’t leave the room the entire time. You settled on one nice outfit and comfortable loungewear for the rest of the time. One thing you made sure to pack was the small black shopping bag you had sitting on your dresser.

You went shopping on your day off, picking out several new pieces of lingerie to surprise Rhett with. You bought a baby blue matching set. Flowers embroidered on the mesh material of the bra and panties, complete with a see through negligee. You felt beautiful in it, sexy even. You knew Rhett would love it.

As you drove to the hotel an hour outside of Wabang, you tried to calm your nerves. You weren’t sure why you were nervous, but you couldn’t stop taking in shaky breaths the closer you got. As you pulled into the parking lot, Rhett was leaning against the side of his truck. His arms were crossed over his chest and the shirt sleeves of the black tee strained over his biceps.

His lazy grin puts you at ease. It was just Rhett, there was nothing to be nervous about.

You parked beside him and hopped out of the driver’s seat, barely shutting your door before making your way towards him. He pulled you into him the second you were within reach, strong arms enveloping you in a tight embrace.

“Missed you.”

“You saw me two days ago. Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me, Rhett.” You joked, poking his side with your index finger.

He shut you up with a firm kiss, hands sliding down into the back pockets of your jeans. You couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped your throat, which led to his tongue teasing your bottom lip.

“We should- we should go check in.”

He held onto your hand the entire time, thumb gently rubbing the back of your thumb as the front desk employee checked you in.

“Here are your room keys. Breakfast is served from 7-9 in the mornings. Enjoy your stay, Mr. and Mrs. Abbott.”

“We’re n-“

“Thank you, ma’am. Have a night evening.” He muttered, hand keeping slight pressure on your lower back as he ushered you out the front door and to your vehicles to collect your bags. You were silent on the elevator ride to your room, your fingers tapping on the handle of your duffle.

Mrs. Abbott. You couldn’t deny the way those two words caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach. How they caused your heart to contract and your palms to sweat. Rhett didn’t correct her. Why? He probably didn’t want to be rude - but it still made your mind wander.

The elevator dinged to signal you had arrived at your floor, shaking you out of your thoughts. Rhett flashed you a smile, grabbing your hand once more for you to follow him down the hall. You glanced at the numbers plastered on the cream colored doors, taking note of the plush carpet that lined the floor. This place was nice, but you didn’t realize how nice until you made it to your room.

Room 435.

Rhett pressed the key to the detector and the lock clicked open. Inside, you were met with the most beautiful room. The layout was spacious, looking more like a small apartment rather than a hotel room. There was a king sized bed that stretched out into the middle of the floor, a couch and large flat screen television. A small kitchenette was to your right as you walked through the door and there was a big window with a breathtaking view.

“Rhett, you really shouldn’t have,” you began but he stopped you before you could continue by pressing a finger to your lips.

“I wanted to treat my girl,” he stated, taking your bags and sitting them in one of the chairs at the small dining table. “How about we order some room service and relax?”

All you could do was nod, suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed with how he was treating you. Your mind started wandering again, thinking maybe this was more than just temporary. You had already established your relationship, knowing that you wanted to be together but you were still keeping it on the down low, not disclosing it to anyone but those close to you. But his lack of response to you being called Mrs. Abbott… you couldn’t help but think about what your future with Rhett held.

Rhett smiled softly at you as he called the front desk, ordering a spread of food for the two of you to enjoy. You ate in comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company. You fed him some of your dessert, rolling your eyes as he moaned dramatically around the fork.

“So… I have a surprise,” you said, chuckling at the way Rhett straightened in his seat across from you.

“What is it?”

“I, uh.. I bought a few new pieces of lingerie. You want me to model them for you?”

His eyes darkened almost instantly, lips quirked up at the corner.

“You wanna put on a show for me?” His voice was husky, thick with desire already. You smiled sweetly at him, moving from your chair and over to stand in between his spread legs. Placing a small kiss to his cheek as his hands traced up the backs of your thighs.

“Wait on the bed for me, daddy.”

You plucked the bag out of your duffle, making your way into the large en-suite bathroom. You placed the delicate material out on the counter before touching up your makeup. Your heart was thrumming in your chest in anticipation. After you slipped the lingerie on your body, you ruffled your hair to give it a little volume. You shook your hands a few times to get rid of some anxiousness and opened the door. The entry to the bathroom faced the end of the bed and Rhett’s eyes dragged over your body, devouring you with his stare.

“Goddamn, baby. Look at you,” he spoke, sounding winded. His thighs spread wide as he looked at you. Your cheeks felt hot, not knowing what to do with your hands or how to stand. “Did you buy that just for me?”

“Mhmm.”

“Come closer. Let me see you.”

You moved towards him slowly, fingers playing with the hem of the short negligee as you stood in front of the man before you. He raised his hand, index finger pointed to the ceiling as he gestured for you to spin for him. You did just that, twirling without hurry, wanting him to take it all in. When you faced him again, his hand scrubbed over his stubbled jaw. Tongue darting out to lick his lower lip. Even in the low lighting you could see the greys that lined his temples. You felt like a gazelle caught in the line of sight of a hungry lion. The way he was looking at your body made your thighs clench. Your heartbeat quickened as he beckoned you over with the crook of his finger.

“You’re so good to me, baby. Getting all dolled up to surprise daddy.”

His rough hands rubbed over the backs of your thighs once more, this time without any barrier. Rhett massaged the meat of your legs, roaming under the lace to grab two handfuls of your ass. He pulled you close to him, head resting against your stomach as he let his fingers trace the edges of the panties. He pulled back to look up at you from under his lashes, blue eyes pinning you in place.

“The things I want to do to you right now, honey.”

“Let me take care of you, daddy.”

You kneeled between his legs, the carpet providing a slight cushion. Your hands hastily fiddled with his belt, wanting your mouth on him as soon as possible. He took pity, seeing as how you couldn’t quite get the buckle undone in your rush. He did it so easily it made you huff out of slight annoyance. You sat back on your heels and waited patiently, hands folded in your lap. Rhett tugged his jeans off, tossing them to the side. There he sat in front of you in just his black boxer briefs and black t-shirt, both clinging to him in ways that made your mouth water.

He palmed himself through his boxers a few times before discarding his shirt, joining the ever growing pile of clothes. You chewed on your bottom lip as it was your turn to look over his body. His broad shoulders and chest were on display. His soft stomach and the love handles that you adored so much were begging to be touched. You reached for him, fingers gripping the waistband of his underwear and pulling them down his thick thighs. His hard cock slapped against his lower stomach and you wasted no time in licking a line from the base to the tip, collecting the droplet of precum on your tongue.

Rhett inhaled sharply as you continued with small kitten licks on the head. You wrapped your lips around it, bobbing your head to take more of his length into your mouth. He felt heavy in your mouth, the weight of it causing you to gag slightly. His hand pulled your hair back into a makeshift ponytail.

Having him in your mouth like this gave you a sense of power. Rhett was putty in your hands when you sucked him off.

Your short nails scraped along his thighs, smirking around him as you felt him shiver. His thighs were extremely sensitive, just one of many things you had learned about Rhett since you started sleeping together.

The grip on your hair tightened as you took him deeper into your mouth, his tip grazing the back of your throat just barely. You spread your knees and arched your back, causing the negligee to slip up and put your ass on display. Tears formed at the corners of your eyes as Rhett lightly thrusted his hips up into your mouth.

He tugged on your hair until he slid out of your mouth with a slight pop. A spit trail followed in its wake and you whined in protest. You had wanted him to cum in your mouth, pouting up at him. Rhett’s chest heaved as he looked down to you, fingers still tangled in your hair.

“As much as I love coming in that sinful mouth, I think I should take care of you. I know you’re desperate for it.”

He hauled you to your feet easily. You always forgot how strong he actually was. Years of working on the ranch giving him the strength of an ox. A giggle escaped you as he manhandled you to the bed. He towered over you, kneeling above you as he traced his thumbs across your bent knees.

“What do you want, babygirl?”

“Want you,” you replied quietly.

“You’re gonna need to be more specific than that.”

His hands slid up your thighs, pushing the lingerie above your hips. He thumbed the thin waistband of your panties, a lopsided grin growing on his face as he spread your legs wide and noticed the wet patch through the scrap of fabric.

“Oh, honey. You’re so wet for daddy, aren’t you. Just dying for me to play with that pretty pussy. C’mon, tell daddy what you want him to do.”

You moaned at his words, canting your hips towards him, silently begging him.

“Want you to- want your mouth on me. Please.”

“Now, was that so hard?”

He slid down the mattress until he was on his stomach, mouth mere inches from where you craved to feel him. Pressing your thighs back towards your chest he moved towards your heat.

He placed a light open-mouthed kiss to your cunt through the panties, tongue starting at your hole and licking a long stripe to your clit. You keened loudly, bucking your hips against his mouth as he sucked on the sensitive bud over the fabric. You could feel his spit cooling on it and you so desperately wanted him to tear them off and get his mouth on you properly.

“Daddy,” you whined out, fingers gripping his greying locks.

He knew what you wanted and who was he to deny his best girl?

You heard it before you felt it, a tearing of thread hit your ears before you felt the sting of the panties being ripped from your body. A gasp emitted from your lips as he threw the shredded underwear over his shoulder and mouth attached to your wet pussy, tongue delving into your dripping hole. The action caused your back to arch off the bed and a shattered breath to escape you, leaving you no time to be upset over your now destroyed underwear.

Rhett’s nose bumped against your clit as his pointed tongue circled your entrance. He shook his head slightly, moving side to side to stimulate the bundle of nerves. You raised your head from the pillows to look down at him and was met with him staring into your eyes. At that moment, his gaze trapped you. You couldn’t look away even if you tried.

He moved to wrap his lips around your clit, suctioning onto the bud. You moaned loudly, not caring who heard you. Your thighs clenched around his head as he sucked hard. His middle finger slid inside, curling up and immediately finding that spongy spot.

Between his attack on your clit and g-spot, you were coming on his mouth. A flash of white-hot heat washed over you as you released onto his tongue. He helped you come down from your high, placing one last kiss to your oversensitive clit before pulling away.

Your thighs ached and you could already feel the beginnings of stubble burn. Rhett rested his head against your stomach, fingertips tracing against the red spot on your hip bone. Your fingers threaded through his hair to pull his head up.

“Come up here, please,” you said, still trying to catch your breath.

He crawled up your body, groaning as you pulled him down into a kiss. Your tongue slid into his mouth, moaning slightly at the taste of yourself on him. You stayed like that for a while, kissing each other and barely pulling away for air. Rhett’s hands groped at your breasts, roughly grabbing at the mounds which caused you to arch up into the touch.

“Want you to ride me while you’re wearing this pretty lingerie. Can you do that, baby?”

“Anything for you, daddy.”

“That’s my good girl. C’mere,” he said, rolling off of you and moving to press his back against the headboard. He maneuvered you into his lap, his waist spreading your thighs. You felt his cock slide between your slick folds, the tip nudging against your clit as you grinded against him.

“Stop being a little cocktease,” Rhett growled, hands gripping your hips to stop your movements. You grinned at him before taking him in your hand, lining him up to slide inside your heat.

You both moaned in unison at the feeling, your walls fluttering around his cock as you were fully seated on him. You stayed like that for a minute, adjusting to his size in this position. Your hands braced themselves on his chest, nails digging into the bull tattoo on his right pectoral.

“Feel s’full,” you slurred out, mustering up all your strength to stay upright.

“Yeah, baby. I can feel you clenching around me. Ride me, sweet girl. Show me how bad you want it.”

Your hands moved to his shoulders, giving you the leverage to raise your hips. His tip was barely inside before you seated yourself down on him again. You continued this speed for a bit, getting into a comfortable rhythm. You started bouncing faster, the head of his cock bumping against your g-spot deliciously. Rhett’s hands kept a bruising grip on your thighs, eyes hooded as he watched you fuck yourself on his cock.

“That’s it, honey. Just like that. Look so perfect riding daddy’s cock.”

You slowed down to a grind, wanting to drag it out as long as you could. Your hands roamed across your own body, groping your breasts and pinching your hardened nipples through the baby blue negligee. He knocked your hands away to replace them with his own, leaning forward to wrap his lips around one nipple.

“When the lady called me Mrs. Abbott, oh, fuck.. you didn’t correct her. Why?” You’re not sure why you brought it up at that moment, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Kind of liked the sound of it… Did it make you uncomfortable?”

“No… I really liked the sound of it, too” you said in a hushed tone, like you were exposing one of your deepest secrets. Turns out, you were.

“Oh, yeah? Like the thought of being my wife?”

You nodded as you picked up the pace again, wanting to chase that feeling from earlier.

“You want me to make you Mrs. Abbott? Fill you up and have you full of my baby? Everyone would know you’re mine,” Rhett said.

He gripped your hips and braced his feet onto the mattress, thrusting up into your pussy. The force of it caused you to collapse forward, burying your face into his neck and whining loudly. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, clinging to him as his brutal thrusts continued.

“Wanna give you that, honey. Wanna give it all to you. Wanna make you an Abbott. Wanna make you a mama, god. Fuck, you feel so good.”

“I want it so bad. Give it to me, Rhett. Give me everything,” you whispered into his ear, nibbling on the earlobe as he moved inside you.

His hand snaked down to your clit, making rough circles against it with his thumb and you were clenching around him before you knew it.

Placing your forehead against Rhett’s to look into those captivating blue eyes as you reached your peak. Your scream got caught in your throat as you came, stars bursting behind your eyelids as Rhett came right after you. His hot release filled you, causing you to whimper.

“Fuck,” he grunted, pulling away and looking down at where you were still connected. You could feel him leaking out of you and it made your head spin. You lifted off of him, gasping when some of his cum trailed down your inner thigh.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, honey.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple before getting up and heading to the bathroom to give a wet washcloth. You jerked as he touched your sensitive cunt.

“Shhh, that’s it. You did so good, sweetheart. Always so good for me,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He helped you under the covers after you finished in the bathroom, wrapping his arms tightly around you to pull you close.

“Rhett?”

“Mhm?”

“Did you mean it? About giving me everything?”

He lost out a sigh before pulling you impossibly closer. His nose brushed along your neck before he spoke.

“I would. I would give you anything you wanted. Honey, you make me so happy. You make my girls happy. I love you, and I know I don’t say it enough, but I do. I want it all with you.”

You couldn’t help from tearing up at his words, fingertips grazing along his forearms before turning to face him.

“I love you, Rhett. I love you so much.”

Your noses knocked together once again, something you noticed that was becoming a habit. You let out a wet laugh as a tear fell and Rhett caught it with his thumb. He kissed your forehead and you snuggled closer to him, throwing a leg over his waist.

“If this whole weekend is gonna be like this, it’ll be hard for me to leave.”

“You’ll miss the girls too much. And besides, I wanna see the town anyways since you dragged me all the way out here. I even brought that dress you love.”

“Woman, you spoil me.”

You fell asleep in Rhett’s arms that night, having a much brighter outlook on your future together. And if you dreamed about Rhett carrying a baby boy on his hip that looked just like him, with a gold wedding band adorning his ring finger… well, you couldn’t control yourself.

tagging those who might be interested: @hangmanapologist @sebsxphia @beachbabey @thesluttyarchivist @lt-natrace @lt-bradshaw @bradshawsbitch @buckys-estrella @withahappyrefrain @basiccortez @therebeccaw @rae-gar-targaryen @nobody7102 @mothdruid

#shelby’s 750 celebration! #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott smut #dilf rhett 4 ever <3 #rhett x babysitter

[itsworn]

Sonoma Speed Festival 2019, is like Goodwood on This Side of the Pond

The first ever Sonoma Speed Festival is coming to Sonoma Raceway in Sonoma, California on May 30, 2019. The event will feature iconic historic racecars from decades past, from the Brass Era, to early ‘70s Trans Am cars, late ‘80s prototypes, and opportunities for show goers to fully experience not only racing car culture, but local culture as well. Off-track are wine tastings, vehicle simulators and virtual-reality experiences, autographs from racing drivers, live music, and a beer garden.

The event’s distant European cousin, the Goodwood Festival of Speed can be described as an English garden party with music provided by the sweet sounds of F1 cars, boosted V8 drift cars, fire-spitting exotics, and straight-piped vintage race cars, as rather than a four-string quartet. In addition to parade laps, there is a timed hill climb to the top of Goodwood Park, with no safety barriers, or fences.

The Sonoma Speed Festival differs in that it’s on the grounds of a full-fledged racing facility and features regional wares from Northern California. “The team organizing this event have attended the best motoring events in the world and want to bring that world-class level of execution and experience to one of the best race tracks in North America,” said Ryan R. Turri, General Manager of the Sonoma Speed Festival. “We’ve brought in teams that have worked on the most highly regarded automotive events and museums across the globe. This is an opportunity to see the most significant motorsports icons in action while enjoying the luxuries and comfort of a European-style motoring event.”

Sonoma Raceway’s 50th anniversary is this year, and to celebrate, the Trans-Am class will run a race on the track at the festival just as it did back in 1969. Nine other classes which are listed below, will run throughout that Saturday and Sunday. In total over, 220 vehicles are expected to attend the event with special guests to be announced.

Race Groups:

Race Group 1: 1949-54 Sports Production Cars

Alfa-Romeo 6C-3000

Allard

Aston-Martin DB3

Austin Healey 100S

Cunningham

Ferrari: 166, 195, 212, 250MM, 340, 375MM, Mondial, 750S

Jaguar: C-Type, XK-120

Kurtis

Lancia B20, D24

Maserati: A6GCS

Mercedes 300SL

Porsche 550

Siata 208CS

Race Group 2: 1954-59 Sports Production Cars

Ferrari 250TR, TdF, 500TR, TRC

Jaguar D Type

Maserati 200S, 250S, 300S, 350S, 450S, Birdcage

Lister

Mercedes 300SLS

Porsche RSK, 550A, RS60

Scarab

Sportsracing cars under 2L

Race Group 3: 1959-65 Production/GT Cars up to 5 Liters

Aston Martin DB4/GT

Bizzarrini

Cheetah

Ferrari 250 GT, SWB, GTO

Shelby American 289 Cobra, Daytona Coupe, GT350, GT350R

Jaguar XKE/E type

Porsche 904, 356 Carrera

Race Group 4: Masters Historic Formula 1 U.S.A.

Catering to 3-liter-engined Formula One cars from 1966 through to 1985

Constructors such as Ferrari, Williams, McLaren and Lotus as well as Shadow, Tyrrell and Amon – all who played a part in the history of Formula One.

Race Group 5: 1964-73 FIA Manufacturers Championship

Alfa Romeo T-33

Ferrari 250LM, 250/330P, P3, P4, 312, 512, 312PB

Ford GT40, MkII, MkIV

Lola T70 Mk3

Porsche 917, 906, 908, 910

Race Group 6 – 1966-72 Historic Trans-Am

Ford Mustang

Chevrolet Camaro

AMC Javelin

Dodge Challenger

Race Group 7: 1965-69 Under 2.5-Liter Production Cars

Alfa Romeo GTA, GTV, TZ1

BMW 2002

Datsun 510

Lotus 26R

Porsche 911

Race Group 8: 1932-52 Pre-War Grand Prix Cars

Alfa Romeo

Auto Union

Bugatti

Delage

Delahaye

ERA

Maserati

Mercedes Benz

Talbot Lago

Race Group 9: 1981-90 Prototypes, FIA Group C & IMSA GTP and Masters Engdurnce Legends U.S.A.

Cars eligible to enter the Le Mans 24 Hours or any of its feeder series (FIA Sports Car Championship, IMSA, Sports Racing World Cup, International Sports Racing Series, FIA World Endurance Championship, LMES, ELMS, ALMS, ILMC) between 1995-2015 inclusive. Also, IMSA EXXON World Sports Cars (1994 to 2002), Grand-Am Road Racing Series, (2003 to 2013) & Group C (1982 to 1993):

Daytona Prototypes

Spice, Porsche 962, Jaguar XJR, March etc

Aston Martin, Porsche, Ferrari, Corvette, Viper

Peugeot 908, Audi R8 LMP, Oreca, Courage etc

Race Group 10: 1971-80 IMSA Camel GT

BMW CSL

Datsun 240Z

Porsche 911 RSR, 934, 914-6GT

Ferrari 365 Daytona

Detomaso Pantera

The post Sonoma Speed Festival 2019, is like Goodwood on This Side of the Pond appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

from Hot Rod Network https://www.hotrod.com/articles/sonoma-speed-festival-2019-is-like-goodwood-on-this-side-of-the-pond/ via IFTTT

#IFTTT #Hot Rod Network

[carsubstance]

50 years of Shelby madness is definitely worth celebrating. The birth of the original and famous Super Snake marked a new stage in automotive engineering and performance, which is why we are now staring at the limited Anniversary Edition 2017 Ford Mustang Super Snake by Shelby. Ford Performance joined in and improved the suspension and the braking system; please note the big Wilwood rotors and six-piston calipers. Ford’s supercharged 5.0-liter V8 now develops 750 hp of pure muscle and enables the Super Snake to do 0 to 60 mph in 3.5 seconds, on pump gas and Michelin street tires.

Aesthetically, the Super Snake shows off a new hood, grille, front splitter, rear spoiler, and tail panel; however, there are also a diffuser and a lower rear splitter worth mentioning. The bodywork also proudly displays racing stripes and special anniversary badges. On the inside things are equally special, thanks to special door sills, a gauge cluster with Shelby by Autometer wireless gauges and the official Shelby serial on the dash. Only 500 units are available for purchase, so the question is: do you have $69,995 laying around?

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

<<carscoops>>

2017 Ford Mustang Super Snake by Shelby 50 years of Shelby madness is definitely worth celebrating. The birth of the original and famous Super Snake marked a new stage in automotive engineering and performance, which is why we are now staring at the limited Anniversary Edition 2017 Ford Mustang Super Snake by Shelby.

#2017 Ford Mustang Super Snake by Shelby #Ford Mustang Super Snake #shelby #Super Snake

[bernardchandler76546]

2017 Shelby Mustang Super Snake Marks a 50th Anniversary with up to 750 HP

Ford just showed us its upcoming 2018 refresh for the sixth-generation Mustang, but Shelby American isn’t done with the 2017 model just yet. To celebrate the 50th anniversary of Carroll Shelby’s original high-performance Super Snake, which was released back in 1967, Shelby American has revived the name for a new version that it claims can […]

from Trucks, Cars and SUV’s for Sale http://ift.tt/2jRHpI9

from WordPress http://ift.tt/2jlOcJq

#Uncategorized #Cars and SUV's for Sale #Trucks

[jammiesmelser]

2017 Shelby Mustang Super Snake Marks a 50th Anniversary with up to 750 HP

Ford just showed us its upcoming 2018 refresh for the sixth-generation Mustang, but Shelby American isn’t done with the 2017 model just yet. To celebrate the 50th anniversary of Carroll Shelby’s original high-performance Super Snake, which was released back in 1967, Shelby American has revived the name for a new version that it claims can […] from Trucks, Cars and SUV's for Sale http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/caranddriver/blog/~3/5qow3-P6qtU/

#Trucks #Cars and SUV's for Sale

[roewart64]

2017 Shelby Mustang Super Snake Marks a 50th Anniversary with up to 750 HP

Ford just showed us its upcoming 2018 refresh for the sixth-generation Mustang, but Shelby American isn’t done with the 2017 model just yet. To celebrate the 50th anniversary of Carroll Shelby’s original high-performance Super Snake, which was released back in 1967, Shelby American has revived the name for a new version that it claims can […] from Trucks, Cars and SUV's for Sale http://ift.tt/2jRHpI9 via Truck and Car Feed

#Trucks #Cars and SUV's for Sale

[caseynacc1]

2017 Shelby Mustang Super Snake Marks a 50th Anniversary with up to 750 HP

Ford just showed us its upcoming 2018 refresh for the sixth-generation Mustang, but Shelby American isn’t done with the 2017 model just yet. To celebrate the 50th anniversary of Carroll Shelby’s original high-performance Super Snake, which was released back in 1967, Shelby American has revived the name for a new version that it claims can […] from Trucks, Cars and SUV's for Sale http://ift.tt/2jRHpI9 via http://ift.tt/29PubqI

#Trucks #Cars and SUV's for Sale

[robertvasquez763]

2017 Shelby Mustang Super Snake Marks a 50th Anniversary with up to 750 HP

–

Ford just showed us its upcoming 2018 refresh for the sixth-generation Mustang, but Shelby American isn’t done with the 2017 model just yet. To celebrate the 50th anniversary of Carroll Shelby’s original high-performance Super Snake, which was released back in 1967, Shelby American has revived the name for a new version that it claims can do the quarter-mile in less than 11 seconds.

–

Following up the release of the Mustang GTE last year, Shelby and Ford Performance unveiled a new striped variant of the American muscle car at the Ford exhibit at the Barrett-Jackson Scottsdale auction the weekend of January 21. Based on Shelby’s performance claims, the Super Snake can outperform the Mustang Shelby GT350R in just about every way and remains both street and track legal.

–

–

The Super Snake, available with an automatic or manual transmission, begins as a Mustang GT with its 5.0-liter V-8, but a supercharger and tuning kick it up to a claimed 670 horsepower. Pay extra for a Whipple or Kenne Bell supercharger, and Shelby claims the engine will generate up to 750 horsepower. That’s the model Shelby uses to establish its performance claims. With an automatic transmission, normal gas-station fuel, and Michelin street tires (not specified), the Super Snake with the optional supercharger can do zero to 60 mph in 3.5 seconds, Shelby asserts, and hit 1.2 g on the skidpad. In our testing, the GT350R did zero to 60 mph in 3.9 seconds, ran the quarter-mile in 12.5 seconds, and pulled 1.10 g on the skidpad.

–

–

Shelby upgraded a host of other features on the Mustang as well. The Super Snake has new dampers, anti-roll bars, springs, and bushings. It also has black or polished 20-inch forged aluminum wheels, six-piston Wilwood brake calipers in the front and four-piston calipers in the rear, and upgrade cooling for the brakes and engine.

–

On the outside, the Super Snake has a new hood, front splitter, grilles, rocker panels, rear spoiler, tail panel, rear diffuser, and lower rear splitter. Shelby also added LED lights, and, most obviously, striping on the top and sides with Shelby Super Snake branding.

–

–

Some optional features beyond the supercharger upgrade include a one-piece driveshaft, an even higher-performing cooling package, Ford Performance half-shafts, a short-throw shifter, 3:73 gearing, Shelby coil-overs, a suspension tuned for track driving, a four-point roll bar, and a Ford Performance wheel stud.

–

The package without any of those extras costs $36,795. Adding the cost of the Mustang GT brings the total price to $70,895. If you want the upgrade to 750 horsepower, Shelby charges an additional $6500 for that. Only 500 Super Snake cars will be built.

–

–

2018 Ford Mustang: Drops V-6, Gains New Tech

–

2018 Ford Mustang Shelby GT500 Spy Photos

–

Ford Mustang Shelby GT350/GT350R: Full Info, Specs, Pricing, and Reviews

–

–

You can see and hear this spiced-up reptile thrash around a track below:

–

–

from remotecar http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/caranddriver/blog/~3/5qow3-P6qtU/

via WordPress https://robertvasquez123.wordpress.com/2017/01/24/2017-shelby-mustang-super-snake-marks-a-50th-anniversary-with-up-to-750-hp/

#Engines #2017 Shelby Mustang Super Snake Marks a 50th Anniversary with up to 750 HP #car #engines #m

[adriansmithcarslove]

2017 Shelby Mustang Super Snake Marks a 50th Anniversary with up to 750 HP

-

Ford just showed us its upcoming 2018 refresh for the sixth-generation Mustang, but Shelby American isn’t done with the 2017 model just yet. To celebrate the 50th anniversary of Carroll Shelby’s original high-performance Super Snake, which was released back in 1967, Shelby American has revived the name for a new version that it claims can do the quarter-mile in less than 11 seconds.

-

Following up the release of the Mustang GTE last year, Shelby and Ford Performance unveiled a new striped variant of the American muscle car at the Ford exhibit at the Barrett-Jackson Scottsdale auction the weekend of January 21. Based on Shelby’s performance claims, the Super Snake can outperform the Mustang Shelby GT350R in just about every way and remains both street and track legal.

-

-

The Super Snake, available with an automatic or manual transmission, begins as a Mustang GT with its 5.0-liter V-8, but a supercharger and tuning kick it up to a claimed 670 horsepower. Pay extra for a Whipple or Kenne Bell supercharger, and Shelby claims the engine will generate up to 750 horsepower. That’s the model Shelby uses to establish its performance claims. With an automatic transmission, normal gas-station fuel, and Michelin street tires (not specified), the Super Snake with the optional supercharger can do zero to 60 mph in 3.5 seconds, Shelby asserts, and hit 1.2 g on the skidpad. In our testing, the GT350R did zero to 60 mph in 3.9 seconds, ran the quarter-mile in 12.5 seconds, and pulled 1.10 g on the skidpad.

-

-

Shelby upgraded a host of other features on the Mustang as well. The Super Snake has new dampers, anti-roll bars, springs, and bushings. It also has black or polished 20-inch forged aluminum wheels, six-piston Wilwood brake calipers in the front and four-piston calipers in the rear, and upgrade cooling for the brakes and engine.

-

On the outside, the Super Snake has a new hood, front splitter, grilles, rocker panels, rear spoiler, tail panel, rear diffuser, and lower rear splitter. Shelby also added LED lights, and, most obviously, striping on the top and sides with Shelby Super Snake branding.

-

-

Some optional features beyond the supercharger upgrade include a one-piece driveshaft, an even higher-performing cooling package, Ford Performance half-shafts, a short-throw shifter, 3:73 gearing, Shelby coil-overs, a suspension tuned for track driving, a four-point roll bar, and a Ford Performance wheel stud.

-

The package without any of those extras costs $36,795. Adding the cost of the Mustang GT brings the total price to $70,895. If you want the upgrade to 750 horsepower, Shelby charges an additional $6500 for that. Only 500 Super Snake cars will be built.

-

-

2018 Ford Mustang: Drops V-6, Gains New Tech

-

2018 Ford Mustang Shelby GT500 Spy Photos

-

Ford Mustang Shelby GT350/GT350R: Full Info, Specs, Pricing, and Reviews

-

-

You can see and hear this spiced-up reptile thrash around a track below:

-

- via RSSMix.com Mix ID 8134279 http://ift.tt/2jRHpI9

#IFTTT #RSSMix.com Mix ID 8134279