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show-your-needs ¡ 2 years ago
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sanjisock ¡ 3 years ago
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you got that something
ao3 Secret santa pinch-hit for Cheryn (offi-disc)
Sanji may have only sailed the Grand Line for a couple of months, but he has seen his fair share of devil fruits to form some strong opinions for them. Some of them are terrifying; Enel’s immediately comes to mind — the way he can still see the blinding flash of light and feel the pinpricks of pain across his skin whenever he closes his eyes — or Robin’s, in a beautifully fatalistic kind of way. Some are on the weirder side — Luffy’s, for one, but also some others, like the Baroque Works’ Mr. 3’s candle powers and whatever the fuck is going on with Buggy’s.
This one, though? This one is just annoying.
“How are you feeling, Sanji?” Chopper says, eyebrows furrowing in worry. His hooves are touching him all over — his forehead, his throat, his stomach — as if he can somehow sense the sickness on Sanji’s skin.
Sanji sighs. There’s a painful hum at the base of his skull — distracting, but he’s had worse. Luffy has given him worse headaches from his eating habits alone. “Honestly?” He says, gesturing vaguely at the back of his head, ��just a little headache, around here. Nothing I can’t sleep off.”
“You sure?” Usopp pipes up, head peering into the infirmary. “You and Zoro were glowing after getting hit by the guy’s power, and the glow was ominously red.”
“Zoro has shown no symptoms so far,” Robin’s voice from behind the door adds, “so we figured the power must have affected you somehow, Cook-san. Perhaps it is something non-visible? A head tumor? An internal bleeding? An organ failure?”
“An organ failure?” Chopper shrieks, “somebody call a doctor!”
“You’re the doctor,” Sanji points out, patting the kid on the head to calm him down. “Besides, I’m fine. The power must’ve been something weak, like inflicting a flu or something.”
“Or you’re just not strong enough to repel it,” Zoro says from the other bed, a smirk plastered across his face. “Because I’m not feeling anything at all.”
“Yeah? Or maybe,” Sanji growls, head whipping to glare at Zoro. “The power is only affecting humans , and doesn’t acknowledge a patch of growing mold like you as human.”
“You’re trying to start a fight, Cook?” Zoro glowers back as he climbs out of the bed and scrambles to his feet. 
“You started it first,” Sanji snarls, stomping towards the swordsman and pulls him by the collar. He watches Zoro’s hand move toward the hilt of his sword, and he twists his own leg, ready to spring into a kick —
“Stop it, you two!” Nami yells, slamming the door open. “This isn’t the time!”
“Tch,” Zoro grunts. Sanji feels the tension between them defuse, both fearing Nami’s wrath, and as Zoro leans away, Sanji feels something shoots up his spine —
“Wait,” he quickly says, pulling Zoro closer again.
“What the fuck,” Zoro says, clearly surprised, but Sanji ignores him. The pain has already subsided, turning back into the familiar low hum.
He experimentally leans away, releasing his grip on Zoro’s collar, and the pain is back — slower this time, like someone’s wrapped a band around his head and is tightening it, bit by bit. He massages his temple.
“Oi, Cook, you’re all right?” Zoro asks, hand hovering between them, like he’s unsure if he wants to reach out or not. Sanji would’ve slapped it away in any other instance; but he’s had a hunch, and before he can talk himself out of it, grab Zoro’s outstretched hand and hold it.
The pressure around his head is immediately lifted.
“Shit, Chopper,” he says gravely, “I think I’ve figured it out.”
-
“So the pain is gone when you’re touching Zoro?” Chopper asks as the rest of the crew fills in the infirmary, curiosity getting the better of them.
“Yeah,” Sanji says, raising his and Zoro’s intertwined hands for emphasis. “I think it has something to do with the distance between us, too, because it hurt even more when the shitty swordsman was still sitting on the other bed there.”
Zoro, surprisingly, doesn’t rise to the bait at the insult. In fact, Zoro has been going suspiciously quiet, face flustered and eyes refusing to meet Sanji’s. He’s barely gripping Sanji’s hand, his arms and shoulders visibly tense, like he’s ready to bolt anytime soon.
Sanji doesn’t fault him — Zoro hates him, after all. Not hate hate, obviously, they’re nakama — but Zoro insults Sanji whenever he can and challenges him to a fight just as often. There’s no one else Sanji trusts more than Zoro to have his back, but they aren’t exactly close.
And definitely not holding-hands close.
Well, fuck it, it’s not like Sanji’s having a grand time either. He squeezes Zoro’s hand, as if trying to say, look, I’m also forced to do this. Zoro’s face just turns even redder — he must’ve been so mad.
“—hugging?” Robin says, and Sanji is snapped out of his own thoughts. Zoro starts coughing beside him. 
“Uh, I’m sorry, my dear, I wasn’t listening,” he admits apologetically, “you were saying something about…hugging?”
“I was wondering if the two of you could try hugging each other?” Robin repeats, and Zoro coughs again, like he’s choking on air.
“Shut up, Marimo, stop interrupting Robin-chan’s knowledgeable insights,” Sanji snaps, elbowing him on the side, and it’s infuriating, how Zoro just refuses to meet his eyes. “Though if you don’t mind me asking, Robin-chan, why should we?”
“If proximity between the two of you is the main factor, perhaps there’s a chance that being even closer could nullify the powers entirely.”
That…is sound logic, as painful as it is for Sanji to admit. He tries not to gag at the idea of hugging Zoro. When was the last time the brute took a shower again? Fuck.
He sighs, turns to face Zoro and opens his arms.
Zoro makes a choked noise that sounds a lot like a dying chicken.
“What? Believe me, I’d rather swallow your swords than do this, too,” Sanji says, feeling the migraine return as soon as he let go of Zoro’s hand. “But our brilliant, knowledgeable Robin-chan has a point. Let’s get this over with.”
“Swallow?” is all Zoro says, and Sanji just can’t deal with Zoro’s one brain cell right now, so he decides to walk up and hug him.
Hugging Zoro is…surprisingly nice. Zoro has a broad chest, larger than Sanji thought, and when he wraps his arms around Sanji in return he’s surprised to find that they’re long enough to envelope Sanji’s entire torso. They seem to be heading towards a Winter Island, the air inside the infirmary chiller and crispier than usual, but Zoro’s body is like a furnace, warming him all over. Sanji could feel his own body settle into Zoro’s embrace, like it’s natural.
It hits him then and there that he’s hugging Zoro, what the fuck, and he immediately pushes Zoro away by the chest. “All right, that was — that should do it. The curse. Thing.”
“Yeah,” Zoro sputters, looking flustered, though Sanji can’t figure out why. “You should — we were close enough — I mean physically — as in —” he clears his throat, and settles with a lame, “Yeah.”
Yeah . Sanji wishes he could agree with that, but he can already feel the pain returning with a vengeance, a sharp pressure around his neck. He winces, hand instinctively rubbing the sore spot.
“Not that easy, I see,” Robin comments, and Sanji continues massaging his neck, trying to ignore the way his body now feels very, very cold.
-
Chopper and Robin resolved to hit the books first before carrying out more experiments, and by the time evening rolls around Sanji manages to at least find a happy medium — five inches apart, apparently, is equivalent to having a crick on the neck. Not optimal, but manageable.
It does mean having the huge lump of useless muscle standing beside him as he prepares dinner, though.
Sanji is putting in the cooked rice on the pan when he sees Zoro reaching out for his condiments.
He smacks Zoro’s hand with his wooden spatula. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Zoro scowls. “Was just trying to help, Curly, calm down,” he says, pushing the salt and pepper bottles towards Sanji’s side. “You’d rather I just watch?”
Sanji imagines Zoro, scowling face and all, glowering at the stove as he tries to cook. Right. “All right,” he concedes, “but try not to break anything.”
“I’m not Luffy, Cook,” Zoro says indignantly, but he seems to be particularly gentle as he hands Sanji the eggs he needs for the recipe.
They fall into comfortable silence after that, Zoro occasionally passing the ingredients or some utensils, and it doesn’t dawn on Sanji until everything is properly served on the table that Zoro is surprisingly knowledgeable about cooking. Not anywhere near professional, sure, but more than a layman, and definitely more than Sanji expected of him.
He half-suspects that this is all in his head — a side effect from the headache or something — so he tries, “can you pass me the cilantro for the fried rice?”
Zoro hesitates for a moment, but eventually snatches a few leaves of cilantro from the small bowl on the pantry.
Sanji stares at him, wide eyed. He thinks his mouth is hanging open. “How?”
“What?”
“How did you know what a cilantro is?”
“I know what a — a see-lantern is,” Zoro says, unconvincingly.
Sanji raises his eyebrow. “No, you don’t.”
“All right, I don’t,” Zoro pushes the leaves into Sanji’s hands. “But you mentioned the fried rice, and since everything else is done, it doesn’t take a genius to guess you’re talking about those fancy leaves you always put on them.”
That — Sanji doesn’t even know where to even begin with that. “How do you even know what recipe I like to use for this fried rice? You know this has nothing to do with intelligence.”
Zoro shrugs. “It’s not that hard to figure out if you’re paying attention.”
“And you are?”
Zoro looks away again, and Sanji can swear he’s seeing a blush dusting across the bridge of Zoro’s nose, all the way to the tips of his ears. Is he — ashamed of this? “I didn’t know the others’ eating habits interest you too, but I do this all the time,” he finally says, after a moment, because Zoro needs to know being curious about other people’s diets is not that embarrassing, come on. “I think it’s interesting how people have certain preferences they aren’t even aware of, you know? Like Nami’s penchant for zestier desserts, or Usopp’s thing against softer tofus because it reminds him of mushrooms.”
Sanji thinks he makes his case pretty well, but Zoro just frowns. “That’s not the thing I was paying attention to —“ he sighs, shoulders sagging. “Never mind.”
Zoro starts putting all the spices back into the rack, signaling the abrupt end of their conversation; and Sanji can’t help feeling that he’s missed at least half the context.
-
“No fucking way,” Sanji says.
Zoro gives him a look from the hammock, like Sanji is the one being unreasonable. “Suit yourself.”
“I’m not sharing a hammock with you, ” Sanji hisses, trying his best not to wake the others up. He had somehow convinced himself that the problem would be resolved before the day ended, and foolishly went about his day without thinking about the… further implications of having to keep Zoro close 24/7. 
In his defense, having Zoro around has not been as terrible as he expected. Zoro was surprisingly compliant throughout the day, following Sanji around as he did his errands without complaint. Zoro’s only schedule was his training sessions, and Sanji needed those trainings, anyway. They still bickered and fought, but even that wasn’t so bad — Sanji wouldn’t admit this out loud, but it’s nice , to have someone who can keep up with Sanji’s foul mouth and crass sense of humor. It reminds him of his days back in Baratie, where the cooks would hackle each other for fun.
Sharing a hammock with Zoro, though? That’s a different beast altogether.
“I’m not sleeping with you,” Sanji repeats, voice rising a little higher.
Zoro’s face burns at that, and it takes Sanji a moment to realize that his words came out wrong. “I mean,” he quickly clarifies, “like, literally sleeping —”
“Listen, Cook, I just want to sleep,” Zoro cuts him. He turns around so he’s no longer facing Sanji, and he lazilly mumbles, “‘m not gonna even look at your ugly eyebrows. Just go to sleep.” 
“That’s my line, algae hair,” Sanji hisses back, but Zoro doesn’t take the bait. He feels a little defeated as he watches Zoro’s breathing even out, completely unbothered by Sanji’s predicament.
I’m not being stubborn, he tries to convince himself as he gets into his own hammock at the other end of the bunk room, feeling the migraine returning with a back pain. He loves his personal space, sue him — and Zoro sounds like the worst bedmate ever. He hasn’t showered for the past few days, he takes up space with those bulky muscles of his, and he snores. Sanji would rather sleep with a wild boar.
(And if Sanji were to entertain certain thoughts, in the safety of his own mind — perhaps the idea of being so… intimate with Zoro scares him; to have this ever-vigilant warrior letting Sanji into his own space when he is most vulnerable, all for Sanji’s sake —)
Sanji buries his face into his pillow. Stupid devil fruit making him think of stupid thoughts. He’s sleeping alone tonight, fuck you.
It only takes half an hour of tossing and turning before he finds himself climbing into Zoro’s hammock. Zoro’s breath hitches as the hammock dips from Sanji’s weight. 
“Not a word,” Sanji whispers, and Zoro doesn’t respond. Sanji is not entirely sure that Zoro is awake enough to even realize what’s going on. 
And if Zoro notices Sanji’s tentative touch against his back, he doesn’t say anything, either.
-
They’re not talking about it and it’s fine.
“Hold onto this,” Sanji shoves another paper bag into Zoro’s arms, trying his best to focus on a new recipe he’s making with the island’s unique and oddly-colored blue apples. The storeowner said they were more sour than the regular Grand Line apples, so he needs to adjust the amount of sugar on tonight’s pie, and —
He feels a hand circling his wrist before a light tug , and he stops in his track, barely avoiding bumping into another guy.
“Careful,” Zoro says from beside him, hand still on Sanji’s wrist. They’re now close enough that Sanji could feel Zoro’s chest against his back.
Sanji is immediately caught up in images from this morning — Zoro had somehow clambered all over his body overnight, hands and legs curling over Sanji’s torso like an overbearing octopus. And Sanji, embarrassingly, had responded in kind, head resting against Zoro’s chest like it was natural to be the little spoon to Zoro.
They’re not talking about it.
“I’m fine, mosshead,” he dismisses, but can’t bring himself to shake Zoro’s hand away, especially after Zoro was just trying to be helpful for once.
Zoro scoffs. “Yeah, right, just tell me next time if you don’t know where to go.”
“I’m not taking that from a directionally-challenged oaf,” Sanji bites back. “Hadn’t you been a lost child before Luffy found you back in Shells Island? Baratie’s been there a couple of times before. It’s a little ways from Shimotsuki, you know.”
It’s Zoro’s turn to get flustered, and he walks a little faster. “I wasn’t lost,” he says, defensive. “I was just doing my job at the time. Being a bounty hunter and all.”
Sanji snickers. “Oh, right, because Shells Island and its huge military base needed the help from a no-name bounty hunter from East Blue.”
“I had a name, they called me the Demon of East Blue,” Zoro counters, and Sanji can’t help laughing at the chlidish pout on his face. “Besides, it’s not like my mother gave me some pointers. Had to wing it most of the times, when Johnny and Yosaku weren’t around.”
It takes Sanji a moment before the information sinks in. “Wait, what? Your mom was a bounty hunter?”
“As far as I know, yeah. Didn’t get to teach me much, though — she left me in the care of Koshiro’s Dojo when I was around five or six to pursue a group of pirates that terrorized the neighboring island.” Zoro seems to hesitate for a moment, squeezing Sanji’s hand unwittingly. “She never got to return from that.”
Sanji feels like his heart is being squeezed, too. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Zoro shrugs. “I mean, it hurt, back then. But she made her choice. They all said she died a warrior’s death, which is what she would’ve wanted.” Zoro looks away at that, and he feels untethered, at the moment; like he’s looking at someone, somewhere else. “She had a choice in how she died. That is more than what a lot of people are dealt with.”
He takes a left turn then, tugging Sanji along with him, and for once Sanji doesn’t feel like telling him that it’s the wrong turn. They walk in silence for some time, away from the cacophony of the market place. 
Sanji waits until Zoro is ready to talk again before pointing out, “you know, this is — huge, Zoro. Why haven't you told me this before?”
Zoro shrugs again. “You never asked,” he answers, simply.
“That’s fair,” Sanji says. “Thanks — for sharing with me, I mean.”
“‘s nothing, Cook,” Zoro says, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand in a rare sign of embarrassment.
Sanji feels a little winded; unsure of what to think about this new information. This — new side of Zoro, who is more than steel and blood and the bodies under his feet, who has his moments of hesitation, and doubt, and weakness. He thinks of Zoro from this morning, still asleep, the hard lines of his face smoothened out by sleep, rendering his face impossibly soft.
Zoro still hasn’t let go of his hand. They’re not talking about it.
-
All right, so maybe Sanji likes his new routine with Zoro.
Zoro is more helpful than he isn’t, and even more fun to have around than he is helpful. Sanji has always known that they have a similar sense of humor, snarkier than rest of the crew is used to, but it surprises Sanji that they don’t bite hard each other enough to bleed — that Zoro only pushes his buttons when Sanji needs him to, and goes quiet before it gets too much.
They share things so effortlessly after the first few days of hiccups — spaces, as per the requirements of the devil fruit; but also other things, like stories and secrets and silences. Zoro helps him with the dishes, and Sanji improves Zoro’s workout routine on his legs. Zoro talks about this wonderful girl named Kuina sometimes, life snuffed out to soon by the cruelest of fate; and Sanji’s nightmares get easier when there’s another warm body in his bed.
This is a new Zoro, he thinks. A calm, steady presence by his side. Which is the same as the old Zoro, now that he thinks about it — just in a new light.
And Sanji likes him.
-
Sanji has always been a light sleeper, and he’s awake as soon as Chopper raises his voice a little higher, catching the tail end of his sentence of, “— you two all right?”
“It’s fine, I’m fine,” Zoro immediately tries to calm him down. “The Cook’s…managing, I suppose.”
Sanji knows he should announce to the room that he’s awake, but it feels awkward, considering they’re actually talking about him. He schools his breathing, hoping that nobody notices.
Chopper’s mind is clearly preoccupied, worry dripping from his voice when he says, “please tell me if something comes up, okay? I’m your doctor, after all.”
“I know, I know,” Zoro says, “You’re not just our doctor; you’re the best we’ll ever have.”
“That doesn’t make me happy at all!” Chopper says, and there’s a lull in the conversation as Zoro presumably pats Chopper on the head. They all have a soft spot for the kid, but there’s something about Zoro being soft in particular that makes something in his heart warms.
Chopper speaks up again after a moment. “I’m sorry that I haven’t found the cure, Zoro.”
“Nah, it’s my bad for trying to rush you,” Zoro says, and Sanji almost sits up in surprise. Since when is Zoro so eager for a cure?
“I understand,” Chopper says. “It’s for Sanji, after all.”
He hears Zoro sigh, and feels the hammock dip as Zoro leans forward. “Honestly, this is mostly a selfish demand from me. It’s — sometimes it’s so hard , I don’t think I can stand another day of this —”
Zoro is still talking, but his words have stopped making sense — all Sanji could think about was his earlier words, echoing in his ears like a curse. I don’t think I can stand another day of this.
Sanji feels like a fool now. He thought they both felt comfort in their newfound routine; that everything fell into place as naturally as breathing. But now that he thinks about it, Zoro is forced to be around the kitchen while Sanji cooks, cutting his training time short. He also has to follow Sanji around whenever they’re docked for a supply run, even though Zoro usually prefers wandering by himself until he either runs into a challenging obstacle, a generous supply of alcohol, or both. 
What was Sanji thinking anyway? Nobody could stand being around him that much. Much less Zoro, who only a couple of weeks ago would turn up his nose at the thought of being in the same room with Sanji.
(He thinks of the rock in the middle of the ocean, vast and colossal; he was a frail little kid, but he took up too much space anyway. He always did.)
Sanji tunes the two out and closes his eyes.
-
There is a dull, aching pit in his gut. His head is swimming, bright sunbursts of pain flaring at the back of his skull. He grits his teeth, trying to chase the tension away. 
“Cook?” Someone calls out.
He thinks it’s Zoro, but it’s kind of hard to see through the haze of pain. He jumped out of the ship as soon as Merry docked, and spent the day foraging in the forest by himself; he thinks the sun is setting now, the sky a darker shade of red, but it’s pretty hard to figure that out with a fever.
The person grabs him by the shoulder and forces him to turn around.
“Why are you here?” Sanji growls.
Zoro balks at the question; the hand on Sanji’s shoulder stills in surprise. “Why shouldn’t I be? The devil fruit —”
“It’s fine,” he says, shrugging off Zoro’s hand. He turns back and starts wading aimlessly through the foliage again. “I don’t feel anything.”
Zoro grabs him by the arm, undeterred. “You’re lying.”
Sanji glowers and tips his chin up defiantly. “Yeah? How do you know?”
“Because I know you, Cook.”
“Well, then you should know that I don’t want you here right now.”
Zoro’s face falls for a split second, like he’s been struck; but it immediately morphs into an angry scowl as the swordsman steps forward, closing the distance between them. “Where is this coming from?”
Sanji steps back instinctively. “I heard your conversation with Chopper last night,” he says bitterly. He can feel their closer proximity instantly working wonders on his headache and fever, and hates himself for it. “You told him that you wanted a cure as fast as possible. That you — and I quote — can’t stand another day of this . So, here you go. I was just giving you what you wanted, which, is coincidentally also what I want — some peace and quiet without seeing your ugly mug. You’re welcome, Marimo.”
He’s rambling, he knows, but he can’t help it; he remembers being a little kid on the rock, alone. Nobody is coming, nobody ever comes for him —
“Damn it,” Zoro curses, pulling Sanji out of his thoughts, and there’s a frantic, almost desperate look on his face. “I didn’t mean it that way, Cook —”
“Stay away from me!” Sanji lashes out and steps further back, except there’s nothing below his feet — it takes him a little too late to realize he’s backed himself up against a ravine, and before he could find his footing, he feels himself plunged into the river below.
-
“I’m not taking my clothes off,” Sanji declares, voice echoing against the wall of the cave.
There’s a particularly strong wind sweeping through the cave entrance, and Sanji instinctively curls into himself. Zoro, wet shirt already off and hung beside the campfire, raises his eyebrow at him.
“Okay, fine, I’m taking my clothes off,” he concedes, moving to hang his own blue shirt to dry beside Zoro’s. “But I’m not — cuddling with you.”
Zoro sighs, like he’s dealing with a particularly difficult child. “Just c’mere,” he gestures.
Sanji stubbornly doesn’t move, digging his pocket for a pack of cigarette instead, though he expects it to be as wet as the rest of his clothings are. It takes three attempts at lighting two wet stubs and another blow of cold wind before he drags himself to sit beside Zoro.
“We’re… sharing body heat, okay?” He says through chattering teeth. If Zoro notices the blush creeping up his face, the swordsman doesn’t comment on it; instead he slips behind Sanji’s back, circling his torso and pulling him until Sanji’s back is flush against his chest.
Sanji yelps and jumps in surprise, but Zoro’s arms around his chest are firm. “Stop movin’ around, Cook.”
Zoro’s body, somehow, feels hotter than even the fire in front of them; Sanji feels his own body thaw, burying itself into Zoro’s toned muscles. Pressed against Zoro like this, skin-to-skin, the devil fruit power is barely noticeable, and Sanji can’t help getting comfortable.
Too comfortable.
The conversation with Chopper sprung to his mind again, and Sanji straightens up, reluctantly trying to put as much distance from Zoro as their position allows. “...Sorry,” he manages to mumble after a few minutes of uncomfortable fidgeting. “I know I can be a lot to handle, but please bear with me for a couple more days.”
He can hear Zoro sigh from behind him, hot breath fanning against the back of his neck. Sanji shudders at the sensation. “That talk with Chopper…it’s not what you think it is,” Zoro says. “I like watching you cook, and, you know, spending time with you and shit.”
Sanji frowns, trying as much as he can inside Zoro’s caging arms to look over his shoulder and face him. “Then why…?”
“Was afraid of the other way around,” Zoro continues, voice low and hesitant.
It is an odd tone, coming from Zoro, who’s usually so self-assured. “What do you mean?”
“I was afraid I was getting too comfortable,” Zoro says, the words pressed against the base of Sanji’s neck, echoing the same thoughts plaguing Sanji’s mind for the past few days, “and I wouldn’t be able to let you go anymore.”
He doesn’t know who moves first after that — they meet each other halfway, lips against lips, fingers interlocking one another, and Sanji thinks, finally . The pull towards Zoro isn’t new, something the devil fruit has made familiar over the past few weeks, but the heat pooling at the base of his stomach is — he feels Zoro’s hands roaming his skin,and he can’t remember the last time he ever wanted to touch and be touched this badly.
“Stupid Cook,” Zoro says, because it’s so very Zoro — so very them — to insult each other even as their lips move against one another’s. “Wanted this,” he pants against the underside of Sanji’s jaw, “wanted you for so long.”
Oh, he thinks, that’s what this is. He slides a hand through Zoro’s hair, down his cheek and neck, and thinks, I want. He presses small, light kisses against Zoro’s temple, the scar over his eye, the corner of his mouth, and thinks, I want. He finds Zoro’s hand and entwines their fingers, the gesture somehow feeling most intimate, sending something rattling against his ribcage, and thinks, I want.
And as he lets himself fall further into Zoro’s embrace, he thinks that he doesn’t need a devil fruit to tell him how much he wants to stay by Zoro’s side.
-
“Are you sure you’re not feeling anything?” Chopper asks, wide eyes peering over the clipboard in concern.
“Nope,” Sanji says, thumping his chest for emphasis. “Feeling good as new, doctor.”
“Are you sure? A hundred percent sure?”
“A thousand percent,” Sanji says, patting the kid on the head. “And you would know if I wasn’t, right? You’ve already run all the tests you could; I trust you on this, Chopper, you’re the best doctor I know.”
“As if that would make me happy!” Chopper denies, hands wiggling adorably in a happy dance that betrays his words.
“Cook’s good,” Zoro says from across the room. He is leaning against the doorframe, watching the whole exchange from a safe distance. “We fixed him.”
“Don’t make it sound like I’m one of Usopp’s inventions,” Sanji grumbles.
“But how?” Chopper tilts his head, his curiosity now taking over. “I don’t think it’s because of one of my experimental medicines, is it?”
“I’m afraid not. I think Zoro and I happened to meet the requirements to cancel the devil fruit power. It’s,” he begins to explain, but immediately pauses as images of the moments inside the cave caught up in his head. He feels a blush making its way to his face, and clears his throat. “I mean, since the power is about — um — being close and shit, we just needed to be — uh — close to one another. Closer than usual.”
Chopper, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice his embarrassment or awkward stuttering. “All right, then, I’ll inform everyone of the good news!” The reindeer says, scrambling to his feet with a big grin on his face.
Sanji watches Chopper disappear out of the infirmary before throwing a smirk at the man still standing by the doorway. “Guess I’m no longer stuck with your ugly mug, huh.”
“That’s my line,” Zoro scoffs as he makes his way towards the infirmary bed. “Don’t have to listen to your annoying ass anymore.”
Sanji doesn’t protest when the oaf plops down on the bed beside him. “Yeah,” he says instead, sobering. “You don’t have to.”
“I don’t have to,” Zoro quickly replies, squeezing Sanji’s hand as he says so. “You can leave if you want.”
Zoro’s hand is warm and solid around his own. Like an anchor, steadying. He doesn’t let go.
“I can,” Sanji agrees, and doesn’t let go, either.
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dustedmagazine ¡ 5 years ago
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Califone — Echo Mine (Jealous Butcher)
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Echo Mine is not the standard Califone album (if such a thing exists), though it shares tone, instrumentation, rhythm and a general blues-haunted spirit with Rutili’s other work. The music on this album was written to accompany a dance choreographed by Robyn Mineko Williams. Both the dance and the music are intended to commemorate Claire Bataille, the founder of Chicago’s Hubbard Street Dance, who died of pancreatic cancer in late December, 2018. The members of Califone — in this instance, Rutili, Ben Massarella and Brian Deck — worked on the music while watching old videos of Bataille. They incorporate her voice on one track, “Carleton Says: Find It, It’s Still There,” where the dancer tells how a spiritual advisor showed her how to find strength to face her illness by imagining she is going on stage again.
I have not seen the dance, though reviews describe it as a three-person piece, using video and movement and music to convey some sense of Bataille’s spirit. You can intuit, however, how the performance shaped Echo Mine’s compositions. There are only a few conventional verse-chorus songs (“Romans” and the two versions of “Snow Angel” fit this description best), for instance; most of the music is free-form and atmospheric, grounded in complicated, insistent rhythms, but not especially interested in hook or melody.  
It’s not hard, for instance, to imagine “Bandicoot” accompanying movement. One of the disc’s most agile, limber compositions, it pounds with drums and pulses with surges of organ. Stray blues notes drift in from electric piano and voices filter through vocoder in ghostly ways. Like a lot of Califone pieces, it has a certain shaggy unpredictability. Morose melodies rear up with animal vitality, tossing off giant distorted blues guitar notes, crazed stabs of keyboard and howling electronics. Elsewhere, though, the atmosphere turns nocturnal, as on the brooding “Night Gallery/Projector” with its slow-building guitar dissonance, like Crazy Horse, but in a library. The title track, too, smoulders steadily and occasionally catches fire, as if someone blew the embers suddenly into flame.  
There are a couple of mostly percussive tracks—“Howard Street and the Beach” and “From a Flawed Guitar”— which give you a chance to admire Massarella’s way with alternate implements for banging, shaking, clicking and rattling. The rhythms are layered, complex and interesting, but never show-offy. These tracks haunt like ghosts, all rueful atmosphere and contemplation.  
The two “Snow Angel” tracks shroud Echo Mine’s most memorable melody in varying degrees of distortion. V1 keeps the tune mostly on a leash, though a raucous blues guitar rears up once or twice out of the mix. V2 is more amplified with big banging drums and radiant electrified guitar, as powerful and sure as Red Red Meat’s “Carpet of Horses,” and if you’re looking for the mix tape track, there it is.  
All of which is to say that Echo Mine is an eccentric but rewarding entry in the Califone catalogue. It’s well worth seeking out on its own even if you never see performance piece.   
Jennifer Kelly
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muscle-cars-aesthetics ¡ 7 years ago
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1965 Pontiac GTO Facts ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️ Engine: The YU-code ’73 455 was bored 0.035 over and fitted with Pro-Gram Engineering four-bolt main caps and a 4.210-inch-stroke 455 crank cut 0.010 and polished. Crower’s forged 6.625-inch rods use full-floating pins to attach to SRP forged flat-top pistons with Hastings plasma moly rings. A Melling pump with a 60-psi spring draws oil from a Moroso 7-quart pan, and a Pontiac No. 5 stamped windage modified 6X heads, adding bronze guides, partially filling the exhaust crossover, and porting them to flow 240 cfm. Ferrea SS 2.11 intake and oversized 1.71 exhaust valves, Crower dual valvesprings and Smith Brothers chrome-moly 5⁄16-inch pushrods. Crane custom solid-roller cam with 252/256-degrees duration at 0.050 and 0.543/0.543 inch lift using 1.5:1-ratio Crower aluminum roller rockers. A pair of K&N 7×2-inch cleaners filter air for the twin Edelbrock 500-cfm carbs on 1-inch HVH spacers, which ride atop an Offy 2×4-barrel intake, with a Holley 120-gph mechanical pump. An MSD Pro-Billet distributor, 6AL box, Blaster HVC-2 coil and Super Conductor 8mm wires light AC R44TS plugs at 35 degrees total timing—all in by 3,000 rpm. Doug’s ceramic-coated headers send the exhaust through 1.75-inch primaries and 3.00-inch collectors. Tremec TKO 600 five-speed trans from Keisler Engineering, featuring First: 2.87/Second: 1.89/Third: 1.28/Fourth: 1.0/Fifth: 0.64 gear. A Centerforce hydraulic Dual-Friction 11-inch clutch on a Center Force steel flywheel, and a custom 2.5-inch steel driveshaft and a Moser 12-bolt with 3.73s. Suspension and Brakes: Global West Suspension (GW) components. The springs are 1-inch lower than stock in front and ½-inch lower in the rear. Tubular front control arms feature improved geometry from stock, and both the front and rear control arms have Del-A-Lum bushings to reduce deflection. GW swaybars, a 1.25-inch front and 1-inch rear; Koni gas shocks. The spindles are from Stainless Steel Brake Corporation. This four-wheel power disc-brake system features 10.5-inch drilled and slotted rotors and single-piston GM-type calipers in the front, with single-piston Ford-type calipers in the rear. #pontiac #gto #firebird
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perksofwifi ¡ 5 years ago
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From Roadsters to Rocketships at the Indy 500
This year, for the first time ever, the Indianapolis 500, The Greatest Spectacle in Racing, will not be held in the month of May. Due to the global health crisis, Indy race fans will have to wait until Sunday, August 23, to hear the sound of Honda and Chevrolet race engines shrieking at 230 mph around the fabled 2.5-mile track.
They like their tradition at Indy, from the yard of bricks at the finish line that is the only remnant of the surface Ray Harroun’s Marmon Wasp rumbled over en route to victory in the very first 500 in 1911, to the rousing rendition of Back Home in Indiana that sets the stage for the most famous command in racing: “Start your engines!”
And that’s what makes the Indy 500s held from 1963 through 1968 the most fascinating of them all.
At the beginning of the ‘60s, Indy racecars had changed little in decades. They were essentially evolutions of traditional dirt-track racers designed before World War II, with rugged tube frames and simple beam axles front and rear. Most were powered by the four-cylinder, 4.2-liter Meyer-Drake Offenhauser, an engine originally designed in the early 1930s. And most had a two-speed transmission built from Model A Ford parts.
Tradition.
But by 1963, there was revolution in the air at the Brickyard. The winds of change had started blowing in 1961 when Australian Jack Brabham had arrived with the specially built Cooper Climax T54, a car adapted from the successful rear-engine grand prix racers that had taken him to successive Formula 1 world championships in 1959 and 1960.
Brabham’s Cooper wasn’t the first rear-engine car to appear at Indy—one of three rear-engine Miller-Gulf racers, built by legendary engineer Harry Miller for the Gulf Oil Company, qualified for the race back in 1939. But Brabham’s ninth-place finish in a car that had less power than the traditional roadsters, yet was much quicker through the corners, got some Indy insiders thinking.
“I knew when Jack Brabham came to Indianapolis that the rear-engine car was the way to go and that the roadster’s days were numbered,” said the late Rodger Ward, who won the 500 in 1959 and 1962, and finished in the top three in 1960, 1961, and 1963, all at the wheel of a traditional Indy roadster. “Many people couldn’t see, or just didn’t want to see, what was fast becoming a reality.”
1963 was a pivotal year, the year tradition began to make way for modernity at the Brickyard, unleashing a blitz of innovation and original thinking in racecar design seldom seen in top-level motorsport.
The 1964 race would be the last-ever 500 to be won by a traditional Indy roadster, and by 1966, only one front-engine car would be fast enough to qualify for the race. And in 1967, a futuristic all-wheel-drive racer without pistons and camshafts, a high-tech rocket ship that made the old-school roadsters look positively prehistoric, would come within a handful of laps of winning America’s great race.
Let’s take a look at some of the cars that made this era at Indy so fascinating; some of the coolest, and some of the craziest, racecars ever to run at the Brickyard.
THE OLD GUARD
Watson Roadster
Built new for the 1963 race by Los Angeles-based racecar constructor A.J. Watson, and driven by Jim Rathmann, this car was the ultimate expression of the traditional Indy roadster as racers gathered at the Brickyard that year. The 450-hp, 4.2-liter four-cylinder Offy engine was mounted upright and on the left of the chassis, driving through a two-speed transmission, and it rolled on tall, skinny tires mounted on 16-inch front and 18-inch rear wheels. It had beam axles front and rear, a throwback to dirt-track racers, but disc brakes all round.
Another Watson roadster, this car would famously win the 1963 500 with Parnelli Jones at the wheel. Although it was built in 1960, it was virtually identical in mechanical layout to the later Rathmann car. But in 1963, it became the first roadster to be switched from the traditional 16-inch and 18-inch wheels and skinny tires to wider and lower-profile rubber on 15-inch rims. Jones, who had been testing the tires on stock cars, reasoned it would give him more grip through the turns. Firestone engineers disagreed, but after Jones ran a string of fast laps during testing, 15s became the hot setup for roadster runners.
Kuzma-Meyer Roadster
Although the traditional Indy roadsters all had tube frames and beam axles front and rear, and most were powered by Offys, some builders did experiment with the engine’s position. This car, built by Eddie Kuzma and Lou Meyer in 1961, had the engine laid down to the left and outside the left-hand side of the frame, with the transmission and driveshaft running to the right of the driver to help with weight distribution through Indy’s turns. Other so-called ‘lay-down’ roadsters had the engine in the frame, and others even reversed the intake and exhaust, with the driveline to the left of the driver.
Kurtis Novi
Not all roadsters were Offy-powered. A 3.0-liter, quad-cam, supercharged V-8 designed in the late 1930s, the loud and potent Novi engine was a quixotic crowd-pleaser at Indy. It made over 450 hp at 8,000 rpm at its debut in 1941, but its power advantage was nullified by Novi owner Lew Welch’s obsession with a front-drive chassis. A change of ownership in the late 50s saw the Novis switch to a rear-drive chassis built by Frank Kurtis, and by the time Art Malone qualified his Kurtis Novi for the 1964 race, the engine was said to be making more than 700 horsepower.
THE NEW WAVE
Lotus 29
Having been impressed by Colin Chapman’s innovative, rear-engine Lotus 25 during the 1962 Formula 1 season, Dan Gurney persuaded Chapman to build a car to contest the 1963 Indy 500. The Lotus 29 was a based on the 25, with a similar light and rigid aluminum monocoque chassis, but instead of the F1 car’s 1.5-liter Coventry-Climax V-8, it was powered by a stock-block 4.2-liter Ford V-8. Driven by Scotsman Jim Clark, who would win the F1 world championship that year, it finished in second place at Indy, with Gurney in a similar car placing seventh.
Mickey Thompson Harvey Aluminum Special
Although it had a conventional tube frame rather than the monocoque of the Lotus 29, the rear-engine car California hot-rodder Mickey Thompson brought to Indianapolis in 1963 was in some ways even more radical. Designed by John Crossthwaite, who had worked at rear-engine pioneer Cooper in Britain, the Chevy V-8-powered Thompson was designed around 12-inch wheels and low-profile tires to ensure an extremely low silhouette. Veteran Duane Carter qualified it on the fifth row but retired from the race when the engine blew.
Rear-Engine Watson
Although both Parnelli Jones and A.J. Foyt tested and rejected rear-engine cars for the 1964 race, the rear-engine revolution was gaining traction at Indy, with even A.J. Watson building a tube-frame rear-engine chassis for the race. Rodger Ward came second in his Ford-powered car. Don Branson’s rear-engine Watson stuck closer to tradition with a venerable Offy mounted behind the driver, but he retired on lap 187 with clutch problems. The race was won by A.J. Foyt … in a traditional Watson roadster. It was the last time a front-engine car would win the Indy 500.
Lotus 38
One of the most beautiful cars to race at the Brickyard, the Lotus 38 made history in 1965 by becoming the first rear-engine car to win the Indy 500. Driven by Jim Clark, who had led the 1964 race in his Lotus 34 until the rear suspension broke, the Lotus 38 was powered by a special aluminum-block Ford V-8 with quad cams and Hillborn fuel injection making more than 500 hp. A.J. Foyt put his Lotus 34 on pole at a record 161.233 mph, but Clark, starting from the front row, grabbed the lead on the first lap, and led for 190 laps to become the first non-American to win the 500 since 1916.
THE NON-CONFORMISTS
Smokey Yunick’s Capsule Car
Smokey Yunick was one of racing’s most original and innovative thinkers, and though best-known for his successes in NASCAR, he ran cars at Indianapolis from 1958 through 1973. His 1964 Capsule Car featured a rear-mounted Offy and a large capacity fuel tank in a central fuselage, with the driver in a ‘capsule’ hung between the wheels on the left-hand side. With cars allowed to run unlimited fuel at the time, this strange configuration was supposed to help maintain balance as fuel was used. Driver Bobby Johns brushed the wall of the final day of qualifying and the car didn’t start the race.
M/T Challenger
One of the first American constructors to build rear-engine cars for Indy with his 1963 and 1964 contenders, Mickey Thompson turned 180 degrees—literally— for the 1965 race. The M/T Challenger featured a Thompson-developed quad-cam Chevrolet V-8 cantilevered out ahead of the driver in a titanium tube backbone chassis and driving the front wheels. Thompson called time on his 1965 Indy bid after the engine blew during qualifying, even though driver Bob Malthouser had turned laps at better than 157 mph in practice, which would have put the M/T Challenger in the 33-car field.
Ferguson Novi
By the mid-60s, the fabled Novi V-8 was making 750 hp and reckoned by many to be almost undriveable. Stirling Moss suggested to Novi owner Andy Granatelli the AWD system from the Ferguson P99 F1 car he’d driven might be able to put that power to good use. Although it looked like a roadster, the AWD system required a front engine layout and the 1964 Ferguson Novi had a semi-monocoque chassis and independent suspension. Unlucky not to place well in the ’64 and ’65 500s, it was heavily modified for the 1966 race but did not qualify. It was the last Novi to ever run at the Brickyard.
Stein-Porsche Twin
This wasn’t the first twin-engine car to run at Indy: The 1946 Fageol Twin Coach Special was powered by a pair of Offys, one up front driving the front wheels, and one at the rear driving the rear wheels. The basic thinking behind the Stein-Porsche Twin, which attempted to qualify for the 1966 500, was sound. The Porsche flat-six engines meant a low center of gravity and no heavy cooling system, and all-wheel drive meant good stability. Driver Bill Cheesbourg could indeed stay flat through Indy’s turns, but the car was 10 mph slower than anything else on the straights and didn’t make the grid.
THE FUTURIST
STP-Paxton Turbocar
1967 was the year the future arrived at the Brickyard, in the shape of the STP-Paxton Turbocar. The Indy railbirds nicknamed it ‘Silent Sam’ on account of its whooshing, whistling exhaust note, so at odds with the snarl of highly-strung V-8s and the growl of turbocharged Offys then in vogue.
Silent Sam sounded different because it was different. Very different. Unlike all the other cars pounding around Indy’s famed and feared 2.5-mile track, its powerplant had no pistons, no camshafts, no clattery poppet valves controlling vapors and gases. Instead it was powered by a Pratt and Whitney gas turbine engine normally used in helicopters, rated at about 550hp.
The idea of using a turbine engine at Indy, where cars run an entire lap at high speeds in top gear at fairly constant revs, had been floated by Ken Wallis, a distant relative of famed British WWII aircraft and weapons designer Barnes Wallis. Both Dan Gurney and Carroll Shelby turned it down, but promoter and entrepreneur Andy Granatelli, who owned the Novi operation, saw an opportunity to shake up the racing establishment.
Granatelli is credited with the idea of placing the engine on the left of the driver– echoing Smokey Yunick’s Capsule Car concept—and with adopting the Ferguson all-wheel drive system used on the final generations of his Novi-powered Indycars. The engine drove through a torque converter, and with the idle speed set at 54 percent of throttle, the driver needed only to lift off the brake pedal for the car to get underway.
Parnelli Jones qualified the car in sixth, but grabbed the lead on the first lap, storming past the field and driving off into the distance with such ease he was later accused of having been sandbagging during qualifying. Not true, Jones said, explaining that while the turbine car had tremendous torque which, with the all-wheel drive system, meant it was super quick out of the turns and along Indy’s short chutes, it couldn’t match the faster conventional cars running in qualifying trim with light fuel loads and a dash of nitro in the tank.
Jones, who four years earlier had won the 500 at the wheel of a quintessentially traditional Offy-powered Watson roadster, would lead 171 laps in this futuristic rocket ship of a racecar before a bearing failed in the transmission with three laps remaining.
WHAT HAPPENED NEXT?
Shelby Turbine and Lotus 56
Six turbine-powered cars were entered for the 1968 Indy 500, even though the sanctioning body had reduced the allowable air inlet on turbine engines from 21.90 square inches to 15.99 square inches in a bid to reduce their speed advantage.
One was Silent Sam, the STP-Paxton Turbocar, which Parnelli Jones was again slated to drive. Two turbine cars were entered by Carroll Shelby, for Formula 1 regulars and Le Mans 24 Hour Ford GT drivers Bruce McLaren and Denny Hulme—the latter the 1967 Formula 1 World Champion. And Colin Chapman brought a squad of turbine-powered STP Lotus 56s to the Brickyard, one to be driven by 1962 Formula 1 World Champion Graham Hill.
All cars were similar in concept, with their turbine engines driving all four wheels through an automatic transmission; indeed, the Shelbys, designed by Ken Wallis, looked almost identical to Silent Sam, with engine and driver almost side-by-side in the chassis.
Chapman’s Lotus 56 differed in that the driver and the engine were in the center of the monocoque chassis, the modified Pratt and Whitney engine mounted just behind the cockpit. And it pioneered a radical new shape for racing cars, boasting a wide, flat, aerodynamic wedge design rather than slim, cigar-shaped bodywork. It was also 400 pounds lighter than the STP-Paxton.
One of the 56s was destroyed in a testing crash that also claimed the life of Lotus driver Mike Spence. Silent Sam was also crashed during testing. Both the Shelbys were quietly taken home amid rumors their air inlets could be opened beyond the allowed limit by way of a heating element that expanded two different metals in the vents at different rates. That left three of the Lotus 56s to start the race. Joe Leonard, his car set up by Parnelli Jones, would put one on pole, with Hill alongside on the front row. Art Pollard would start 11th.
In the race, Hill would lose a wheel on lap 110 and crash, and both Pollard’s and Leonard’s cars would suffer identical fuel pump drive shaft failures late in the race, with Leonard’s Lotus coasting to a halt while he was leading with just nine laps to go.
Rear engine cars had come close to winning the Indy 500 twice—in 1963 and 1964— before Jim Clark’s victory in 1965. But the turbine-powered Indy racers would not be given the opportunity to emulate that feat; sanctioning body USAC banned turbine engines from the 500 later in 1968. There was a new tradition to maintain at the Brickyard.
The post From Roadsters to Rocketships at the Indy 500 appeared first on MotorTrend.
https://www.motortrend.com/news/coolest-craziest-indy-500-cars-ever-pictures/ visto antes em https://www.motortrend.com
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captainlenfan ¡ 6 years ago
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New Post has been published on https://leosmagic.space/product/18-3-1-2-of-clubs-card-silk-magic-by-gosh/
18″ 3 1/2 of Clubs Card Silk – Magic by Gosh
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We supply the tools …. You do the magic!
18″ 3 1/2 of Clubs Card Silk – Magic by Gosh
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18″ 3 1/2 of Clubs Card Silk – Magic by Gosh
This high-quality silk is perfect for all kinds of magic routines. From stage performances to close-up illusions, this elegant red 100% silk with a graphic of the 3 1/2 of Clubs poker gag card is an essential part of your next comedy performance!
Dimension approximately 18″ (45.72cm)
Use it with a dye tube and a matching Blank Card Silk to make it into a full blown routine (both sold seperateley)
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thecardaddy ¡ 5 years ago
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1961 Buick LeSabre - Call
Seller’s Description: 1961 Buick LeSabre, The bubble top Buick has a 401 nailhead that has been bored out to a 413, polished and ballanced crank 10:1 TRW pistons, Harmon Collins mild cam, Offy intake with dual 500 Edelbrook carbs, Griffin aluminum radiator, custom stainless steel headers from American Racing Headers, TH400 transmission with Gear Vendors overdrive. 12 inch front disc brakes, full air ride with shockwaves on the front, 18X8 wheels on the front 20X10 on the rear. Car runs and drives great and can be driven at highway speeds daily without a problem. Very reliable well built car. Please Note The Following **Vehicle Location is at our clients home and Not In Cadillac, Michigan. **We do have a showroom with about 25 cars that is by appointment only **Please Call First and talk to one of our reps at 231-468-2809 EXT 1 ** FREE Consignment Visit Our Site Today Easy To List Your Vehicle and Get it Sold in Record Time. from Cardaddy.com https://www.cardaddy.com/vehicles/vehicle/1961-buick-lesabre-cadillac-michigan-20210803
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offi-office-blog ¡ 5 years ago
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Apex Legends: Box Editions with Brand New Bloodhound and Lifeline Skins
EA has announced that the PC boxes will arrive soon but also stated that a disc would not be there on the inside. One can play the apex legends game for free, navigate to origin grab and get going with it. This October EA is rumoured to venture at a few retail revenues thanks to the release of the game’s two physical editions. These two editions are the bloodhound and the lifeline. The legendary skin of the guardian angel will be included in the lifeline edition.
Other things that will be included are guardian winged banner along with apex 1000 coins and angel struck badge. The legendary intimidator skins will be included in the edition of the bloodhound. Another skin that will be seen in this edition is the wrath bringer’s legendary skin. This will be exclusive for the Prowler SMG.
Skins and reasonable pricing
Tormentor badge and feeling impish banner along with 1000 Apex coins will also be available in the bloodhound edition. It is usual to see digital releases for PC these days, but it is still a boon none the less. The PC version will not have any disc inside the box, but the playstation4 and Xbox owners will receive a proper physical specimen of the game. The PC gamers will get to redeem the game using an origin code. Boxes are fantastic and since the value of a 1000 coins usually amounts up to 10$. The price tag of 20$ doesn’t seem out of place.
There is just one downside related to this announcement. The skins come exclusively for the editions; this implies that you will have to pitch in more to get access to both the skins. The versions of bloodhound and lifeline from Apex are set to be launched on October 18. It will be an exciting release none the less.
Kaylee Smith is a self-professed security expert; she has been making the people aware of the security threats. Her passion is to write about Cyber security, malware, social engineering, Games,internet and new media. She writes for Ms-Office products at office.com/setup or office.com/myaccount.
Content Soruce : http://offi-office.com/setup/blog/apex-legends-box-editions-with-brand-new-bloodhound-and-lifeline-skins/
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rickypowell23 ¡ 5 years ago
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EA has announced that the PC boxes will arrive soon but also stated that a disc would not be there on the inside. One can play the apex legends game for free, navigate to origin grab and get going with it. This October EA is rumoured to venture at a few retail revenues thanks to the release of the game’s two physical editions.
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reyymoond ¡ 5 years ago
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EA has announced that the PC boxes will arrive soon but also stated that a disc would not be there on the inside
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dammydus ¡ 5 years ago
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FULL EP: DJ Lag – Uhuru (EP Download)
FULL EP: DJ Lag – Uhuru (EP Download)
Download DJ Lag Uhuru EP
Veteran South African disc jockey and also a producer, DJ Lag released his most anticipated ep tagged “Uhuru EP” which the EP houses 6 tracks featuring Moonchild Sanelly.
[irp]
Tracklist & EP Download of DJ Lag Uhuru EP
1. DJ Lag – Portland || DOWNLOAD MP3
2. DJ Lag – Offi Bee || DOWNLOAD MP3
3. DJ Lag – Dimoni || DOWNLOAD MP3
4. DJ Lag – Uhuru Dis (feat. Moonchild…
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usfourmustardseedfaith-blog ¡ 7 years ago
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10 Neodymium Disc Magnets 1.50” D x 1/16” H SUPER Strong Crafts School Offi
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thecardaddy ¡ 5 years ago
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1956 Oldsmobile Rocket 88 - $13,495.00
1956 Oldsmobile Rocket 88 Holiday Sedan Stock on the outside, hopped up engine and updated brakes underneath. All black and chrome exterior, black and white interior. Header and door panels seem stock, seats have been redone. Rebuilt 324 cui Rocket engine with Jetaway Hydramatic transmission Engine has been professionally rebuilt around 4000 miles ago Engine is bored and decked, all new internals, Edmunds 2x2 intake and Offy valve covers. 2G Rochesters direct linkage setup with re-pop Edmunds breathers, Eelco valley pan cover Painted gold and polished aluminum to complement Thermo-coated exhaust manifolds Engine compartment has been stripped and repainted New dual reservoir master cylinder and front disc brake conversion All new brake lines in front Rear is lowered 2 inches Working heater and wipers Sun Tach on steering column New Pioneer speakers and amplifier with iPhone hookup; hidden installation Original Starfire Fiesta hubcaps upfront Stock hubcaps under fiberglass fender skirts in the rear Wheels powder coated black, fairly new whitewall Firestones All doors and trunk lock Car comes with: Spare Jetaway Hydramatic transmission core incl. full gasket set Misc spare trim pieces, Shop Manual There are some dents and dings, you’re buying a 63 year old car, it’s not going to be flawless. This is a driver, not a show car! Clear VA title in hand. Please Note The Following **Vehicle Location is at our clients home and Not In Cadillac, Michigan. **We do have a showroom with about 25 cars that is by appointment only **Please Call First and talk to one of our reps at 231-468-2809 EXT 1 ** FREE Consignment Visit Our Site Today Easy To List Your Vehicle and Get it Sold in Record Time. from Cardaddy.com https://www.cardaddy.com/vehicles/vehicle/1956-oldsmobile-rocket-88-cadillac-michigan-18740095
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dammydus ¡ 5 years ago
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DJ Lag – Offi Bee
DJ Lag – Offi Bee
Download DJ Lag Offi Bee mp3, Veteran South African disc jockey and also a producer, DJ Lag released a new song titled Portland. The song was dropped off his new EP tagged Offi Bee.
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Listen & Download Below:
https://zaexclusive.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/DJ_Lag_-_Offi_Bee_ZAExclusive.com.mp3 DOWNLOAD MP3: DJ Lag –  Offi Bee
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thecardaddy ¡ 6 years ago
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1954 Ford Crestline Victoria - $25,495.00
1954 Ford Crestline Victoria 2Dr. Hardtop. Rebuilt 312 Y block with original Fordomatic automatic trans. Factory power steering and power windows. Upgrades include 3x2 Offy intake, Pertronix ignition, cold vintage air, Wilwood power front disc brakes, 12 volt conversion with modern wiring harness, functional lake pipes and AM/FM with 10 disc CD changer. Unusually straight, solid, body with an excellent original undercarriage. Chrome, stainless and original glass are nice. Older paint looks good but has some chips and touch ups. Interior is in excellent condition with a beautiful dash and steering wheel/horn ring. Nice older restoration of a very cool old Ford that starts, runs, drives and stops well. Please Note The Following **Vehicle Location is at our clients home and Not In Cadillac, Michigan. **We do have a showroom with about 25 cars that is by appointment only **Please Call First and talk to one of our reps at 231-468-2809 EXT 1 ** FREE Consignment Visit Our Site Today Easy To List Your Vehicle and Get it Sold in Record Time. from Cardaddy.com https://www.cardaddy.com/vehicles/vehicle/1954-ford-crestline-victoria-cadillac-michigan-17189999
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