#multi tool blades

[johnsontools]

Essential Hardware Tools Every DIY Enthusiast Should Own

Must-have saw blade hardware tools for DIY enthusiasts.

[multifitblades]

Oscillating Tool Blades & Accessories by Multi Fit Blades

Get your hands on professional-grade blades at the best cost!

Multi Fit Blades offers quality cutting blades crafted from the finest materials. From metal to wood, our blades will help you get any job done quickly and with superior accuracy. Benefit from superior durability, performance, and affordability — get your hands on top-grade blades without breaking the bank!

Get your next set of cutting blades from Multi Fit Blades at unbeatable prices for unbeatable results. Don’t compromise on quality, get the performance you need with our selection of quality blades.

Start saving money on top-grade blades today — check out Multi Fit Blades today!

[bonemeal12]

Hmm I’m surprised by the general lack of Crime and Punishment fanart. I thought you guys would’ve loved drawing Rodya (I can call him that, we’re buddies) as a pathetic anime twink boy. He commits axe murder. He’s feverish and delirious for like- the entire book. He has a male best friend who cares for him while he’s feverish and delirious. He’s kinda Weird About Women. This is like. Perfect for the pathetic men loving website.

[zaycheese]

My favorite TMA fact is that in one early episode, I don't even remember which some guys makes a line like "So I bought the biggest knife I could find on short notice" which is very funny to me because the largest legal knife you can own without a permit in England is like, 3 inches, or about the size of your index finger, and that's very funny to me.

[sise717]

Check out

Vegetable Chopper Pro 13-in-1 Review: The Ultimate Kitchen Gadget

Cooking can be a delightful experience, but the prep work often feels like a chore. Enter the Vegetable Chopper Pro 13-in-1, a multifunctional kitchen tool designed to streamline your food preparation. From dicing onions to slicing carrots, this chopper does it all, making it an essential gadget for any kitchen.

Superior Quality and Durability

The Vegetable Chopper Pro is crafted with high-quality stainless steel blades and food-grade materials. This ensures not only durability but also safety in your kitchen. The rust-resistant 420 stainless steel maintains sharp edges for precise cuts, whether you are slicing, dicing, or grating. The robustness of the materials means this chopper is built to last, promising you long-term use without compromising on performance.

Versatile and Multifunctional

What sets this chopper apart is its 8 interchangeable blades. These blades cater to various slicing and dicing needs:

Thick/Thin Slicing

Dicing or Chunking

Shredding

Grating

Grinding

Switching between blades is effortless, allowing you to tackle any recipe with ease. Whether you're preparing a fresh salad, mincing garlic for a sauce, or slicing fruits for a snack, this chopper can handle it all.

Innovative Design

The innovative design of this vegetable chopper includes a built-in cutting lid that lets you chop food directly into a 1.2L container. This feature eliminates the need for a separate cutting board and knife, reducing countertop clutter and preventing food from sliding off during preparation. The chopper's compact size also ensures it can be stored easily, even in kitchens with limited space.

Cleaning up is a breeze thanks to the included scrubbing fork, which allows you to clean the blades and container in minutes. This practical design enhances not only the convenience but also the safety of your cooking experience.

Health Benefits and Time-Saving

One of the significant advantages of the Vegetable Chopper Pro is the time it saves in the kitchen. Chopping, mincing, and slicing ingredients like tomatoes, onions, and garlic can be done in a fraction of the time, making meal prep more efficient. This encourages you to add more vegetables to your diet, promoting healthier eating habits for you and your family.

Lifetime Warranty

The Vegetable Chopper Pro 13-in-1 comes with a lifetime warranty. The manufacturer, MAIPOR, stands by the quality of their product, offering replacements or full refunds if you are not satisfied. This commitment to customer satisfaction ensures you can purchase with confidence, knowing that you are investing in a reliable and durable kitchen tool.

Conclusion

The Vegetable Chopper Pro 13-in-1 is a versatile, high-quality kitchen gadget that simplifies food preparation. Its durable construction, innovative design, and multifunctional capabilities make it a must-have for anyone looking to save time in the kitchen while promoting healthier eating habits. With the added assurance of a lifetime warranty, this chopper is undoubtedly a worthwhile investment for any home cook.

Product Highlights

8 Interchangeable Blades for various cutting needs

High-Quality Stainless Steel Blades for durability and sharpness

1.2L Food Container to reduce mess and clutter

Easy to Clean with included scrubbing fork

Compact and Innovative Design for efficient storage and use

Lifetime Warranty ensuring customer satisfaction

Invest in the Vegetable Chopper Pro 13-in-1 today and transform your kitchen experience!

[squidsavior]

She'll never escape the roller main allegations.

[steampunktendencies]

This 19th-century multi-tool from Germany has 100 different blades and a .22-caliber five-shot revolver.

This knife could be described as the Mother of all Swiss Army knives. If you count the miniatures inside the tortoise shell handle covers, it has 100 “blades.” They include pocket knife blades of every style imaginable, a serrated blade, two dagger blades, several different types of shears and scissors, an auger, a corkscrew, two saws, a lancet, button hook, cigar cutter, tuning fork, pens and mechanical pencils, mirror, straight razor, and a functional .22-caliber five-shot pinfire revolver. The one modern convenience it doesn’t seem to have is a bottle opener, but the bottle cap as we know it wasn’t invented until 1892. Source : National Museum of American History

[hailiansawblade]

MFSB-GD-25J-Q

Multi-function saw blade:refers to the cutting and grinding parts specially used on multi-function power tools. These include standard straight saw blades, precision saw blades, oscillating saw blades, semi-circular saw blades, plated diamond saw blades, scrapers, blades, triangle sand, and more. At the same time, we should meet the needs of various international power tool brands ROCKWELL/WORX/FEIN/BOSCH/DREMEL/DEWALT. We also produce standard adapters for multi-function saw blade installation.

[johnsontools]

Tile grout remover multi tool | Cut Defective Tile Joints and Plaster Grooves with Precision.

[multifitblades]

Titanium Blade at Multi Fit Blades

Don't miss out on the 1-3/4" Wide Titanium Bi-Metal Universal Quick Release Saw Blade by Multi fit blades available at just US $10.99.

This titanium blade is perfect for cutting wood, sheet metal, screws, nails, plastic, drywall, fiberglass, acrylics, laminates, and more.

With its titanium coating, this saw blade offers an extra layer of cutting tooth protection, making it ideal for demolition and deep plunge cutting of wood with embedded nails or screws.

Also, now buy 3 for US $8.99 each and save 19%.

[surelysilly]

SuperPhantom Week 2024, go!

What: A week to celebrate the bestest crossover — Danny Phantom / Supernatural (TV 2005)! Fanfic, fanart, playlists/music, other multimedia or crafts, whatever you want, are all welcome! There are themed prompts for each day, so try to include it and more or as little as you want!

When: September 7th, 2024 - September 13th, 2024

Day 1: Sept. 7th - Divine / Impiety Day 2: Sept. 8th - Strange Day 3: Sept. 9th - Family / Outsider Day 4: Sept. 10th - Song (Fic) Day 5: Sept. 11th - Right / Left Day 6: Sept. 12th - Tools of the Trade Day 7: Sept. 13th - Free

*I will catch up on what I've missed in the following week to the best of my ability, but can't guarantee any swiftness. Submissions may show up the day after their prompt as I queue them up.

Sentence prompt for the week:

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

How: Post your works on Tumblr with the tags #superphantomweek2024 and #superphantom. I’ll reblog them here! Submissions to the week can also be added to this Ao3 Collection!

Just want everyone to have fun with this old little crossover here, so be free and be merry!!! <3

Below are extra details and information for each day.

Honorable mentions for extra brownie points:

Focus on side characters from either show! Last (few) season(s) nonsense Where do ghosts fit in the war between heaven and hell?

Day 1: Sept. 7th - Divine / Impiety

Do you think God lives in Heaven because He, too, lives in fear of what He's created Here on Earth? - Spy Kids 2

Divine: Angelic Presence, Angels, Grace, Holy, God(s), Wings, Pie, Fudge, Resurrection, Prophets

Impiety: Deals, Crossroads, Demon, Betrayal, Curse, Desecration, King of Hell, Abomination, Half-human (Nephilim, Cambion), Halfas (Half Angel & Half Ghost)

Day 2: Sept. 8th - Strange

There's something wrong with those boys... Something off about that house...

Too Many Eyes, Charade, Fleeting Glimpses, Veil, Death Defying, Midwestern Gothic, Limbo/Purgatory, Horror, Biblically Accurate, Ghosts, Weird Age Club

Day 3: Sept. 9th - Family / Outsider

This is about the blood of the covenant and the water of the womb, or neither or.

Family: Children, Childhood, Siblings, Old Friend, Blood, Fluff, Teamwork, Bonds

Outsider: Accidental Meeting, Secret, Outside POV, Found Footage, Ghost Facers, Wrongfully Accused, Strange Bedfellows, Incorrect Assumptions

Day 4: Sept. 10th - Song (Fic)

We've got a long road ahead of us... can't just sit in silence! Or can we...?

Mixtape, CD burn, Radio, Voice, Enochian, Ghost Speak, Silence, Lullaby

Day 5: Sept. 11th - Right / Left

The usual canon divergence, even canon compliance... or something even further removed!

Right: Time Travel, Pre-canon, The End AU, It's a Terrible Life AU

Left: Roleswap, Fantasy AU, Sci-fi, Multi-Crossover

Day 6: Sept. 12th - Tools of the Trade

These vary by profession. What are yours?

Overshadowing, Shot gun, Blade, Salt Circle, Trap, Ghost Portal, Ectoplasm, Impala, Feton AV, Cold Iron, Disguise, Fire, Possession, Wail, Monster of the Week, Summoning

Day 7: Sept. 13th - (Team) Free (Will)

New beginnings. Final endings. Let's do it all over again, it's only just getting started. Or is it?

Friday the 13th, Unlucky, Carry On My Wayward Son, Thrill, whatever you want!

*Take what you like, leave what you don't; these are all just extra suggestions for each day to help get the brain wrinkling up! Send any questions my way~

[annwrites]

a house in hawkins. part two.

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: billy comes to see you again, bringing you dinner & the two of you share hard truths

— tw: mention of drugs, mention of domestic violence, eating

— word count: 4,117

Billy struggles to get to sleep that night, because every time he begins to drift off, his heart starts to pound as he thinks about seeing you again the following day.

He feels like a damn teenager again at the excitement that fills him at the prospect of it—finally learning more, anything—about you. You clearly were not a social butterfly. Content to be left alone was more your style. That much was easy to detect right away. And, normally, he would respect that. But there was just something there that drew him in, left him wanting for more.

He was lonely. Had been his entire life. Even when he was surrounded by people worshipping the ground he walked on. And it didn't take much observation to reach the summation that you were as well. Why else would you be spending your spare time in an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere?

He wonders where you come from. Is your dad, or even your mom, like his? Surely you're not homeless, and he hadn't chased you out of the only place you had to call home, right? He frowns at that thought.

The least he could do to make it up to you was offer you...something. Money? He has a feeling you may be insulted by that. What if he offered to work on the house, then? Just some general repairs. Were you going hungry? He could always bring you something to eat—whatever you wanted.

He sighs, rolling over, squeezing his eyes shut. And is then greeted by the sight of you staring up at him from inside that closet.

It was going to be a long night.

Billy drags the next day at work. Thankfully, he doesn't commit any screw-ups, but he does end up cursing a bit more than usual while working on the undercarriage of a Pontiac.

He's beyond relieved once the workday is through and he can leave. He has half-a-mind to head straight home, desperate for a hot shower and a lie-down, as well as dinner, but instead opts for a brown bag filled with greasy diner food, and driving up that dirt road yet again.

"You here? I brought dinner!" Billy calls into the empty house.

He heads upstairs, same as yesterday, and the room with the mattress—as well as the closet—is empty.

He turns back around, trying the door you had locked yesterday...and finds it unlocked.

He steps inside, and finds furniture covered in stained white sheets, and there is indeed a window on the wall opposite him, which is now shut.

So, you'd been back. He wonders if you're here now, then decides he's not leaving until he's looked through every room.

A normal person wouldn't be trying this hard—honestly, a normal person wouldn't have cared this much in the first place about you coming here—but he was committed to getting answers now. No matter how long it may take.

The next room he tries has nothing more than a broken bedframe in it, a wooden bedside table with a lamp set atop it beside of it—the shade hanging loosely from it, and a shattered window. The one past it is a small bathroom, with a clawfoot tub against the left wall, a toilet and sink against the other, which all need a good scrubbing.

He sighs, going to try the room to his left now—the one before the room with the mattress—and finds the door locked.

He smiles. "Found you," he mutters.

He doesn't bother with knocking; he knows you won't open it. So, he instead kneels, setting the brown bag on the floor, and retrieves a multi-purpose knife from his pocket, pulling out a miniature blade from the side, then jamming it in the lock. He doesn't bother trying to jimmy it open; working with the doorknob. Perhaps he was being an ass right now, but once he was done, the handle would never lock again.

If it meant that much to you, he'd replace it with his own money—his own two hands.

He hits the butt of the tool with the palm of his hand once, twice, three times, and then he twists, biting his lip, shoving it in further, hitting it again and then the door swings open.

He stands, pocketing the knife, picking up the bag, and finds you sitting on the other side below a closed window, back against the wall, arms crossed, legs outstretched, and by the look on your face, he can tell you're not pleased with him.

He gives a small smile, holding the bag up. "Brought you something to eat." He hopes it will now serve to warm you to him even just a bit, given what he'd just done to your new hiding place.

You continue to stare at him for a moment, before narrowing your eyes. "Has no one ever taught you the meaning of a locked door, or do you just not know how to take a hint?"

He smirks, shrugging one shoulder lightly before crouching down and settling himself beside you, back pressed firmly to the wall as he opens the bag, pulling out a cheeseburger. He holds it toward you.

Your hands remain in your lap, resting atop an open book as you merely glance to him. "I'm not eating that."

He frowns. "I got it for you."

You can't imagine why. What was this guy's problem, anyway? The fact he had apparently been watching you for two weeks had already set you on-edge. But this? He'd busted the damn lock just to get to you. Who knew what was in that burger.

You grab your novel, picking up where you'd left off as soon as you heard boots heading up the stairs again, just like yesterday.

That had certainly scared the living daylights out of you. If only you'd initially bothered hiding in the room with the window—the one also with a lock on the door—that you'd finally climbed out of. Then he most likely would've left this place and never come back.

Ruined. Now everything was ruined because this creep wanted a piece of jailbait. Not like he's the first.

He sighs, unwrapping it, suddenly understanding why you refuse to eat it. He takes a bite, chewing, swallowing, and then he holds it to you again. "There's nothing in it, if that's what you're-"

"I'm not eating after a stranger."

He pulls out the second burger, offering it to you.

You don't bother even looking at him as you turn a page, saying, "Maybe that one is drugged, and this was all a ruse to get me to take it instead."

He sets his hand in his lap, leaning his head back against the wall, but still looking at you. "If I wanted to have my way with you, I'd already have you on your back, y'know?"

You side-eye him at that comment, before returning to your book. "Think awful highly of yourself."

He smirks. "I think you know what I'm referring to."

A beat of silence, then, "That's creepy. What are you, anyway? Thirty? I'm seventeen, you know."

He scoffs. "Thirty? Knock a decade off that, hon'. Well, nine years."

You shrug. "Look old to me."

His lip twitches. Were you ribbing him? He tosses the burger in your lap then and you roll your eyes, leaving it.

He then takes another bite of his, then another. He swallows. "What're you reading?"

"A book."

His lip twitches again as he fights against a smile. You were being curt with him in a desperate attempt at getting him to leave, clearly, but what you didn't know was that being unwanted wasn't a new thing for him.

"Does it have a title?" He pushes his luck further—now, for some reason—wanting to get under your skin. Which he knows is just...wrong, as you'd done nothing to deserve it. Except drive him mad with questions. If not a bit of longing that he'd told himself more than once he didn't really feel. It was imagined. Or, rather, not about you at all.

Maybe he should just hire a hooker, and then he'd feel better. He rolls his eyes at the ridiculous idea.

"Yes."

"Well, do I need to guess it, too?" He asks, taking another bite.

You shrug, turning another page. "If that'll make you happy, Willy."

"Billy."

You finally look at him, then, and his heart jumps when your lovely eyes meet his own. "Hm?"

"My name. It's not Willy. I mean, William is technically right, but no one calls me that. Billy."

You study him for a moment. "Uh-huh."

He smirks. You were entertaining, if nothing else. God, he wants to fucking touch you.

"You really going to let it go to waste?"

"I never asked you to bring me food." You turn back to your book. "Or come back here in general. Incase it isn't obvious, as it seems most things must not to be to you: I come here to be alone. Your presence is sort of defeating that purpose."

You were such a smartass.

"Just thought you might be lonely. Thought that maybe my thrilling company would be preferable to-"

"It's not."

You stop reading then, only pretending to. Maybe he was just trying to be nice, for whatever reason. Maybe...maybe he was lonely, too. But if he wanted back in your good graces, he was going to be replacing the lock.

You shouldn't feel guilty for your shortness with him. You'd not asked—or, much more, invited—him here. He'd just given himself permission to intrude on what you'd eventually come to consider your domain. Your place of peace.

You sigh, shutting the book, picking up the burger.

He smiles as he watches you take a bite, and then another. "Can I ask you somethin'?"

You swallow, looking at him.

"How'd you even find this place?"

"Walking." You take another bite.

"You don't...live here, right?"

You're silent for a moment, continuing to eat—the burger now halfway gone. "No. But if you even want to attempt at getting on my good side, you'll be replacing the lock."

He turns the least bit more toward you. "Happily."

You roll your eyes, biting then chewing again.

"Anybody else know about it?"

You shrug. "I've never ran into anyone else here. Until yesterday." You give him a glare and he chuckles.

You speak again. "So, you've been stalking me, huh?"

He blanches. "I haven't."

You glance to the knob, then back to him.

He smirks, looking down, rubbing his thumb into the callused palm of his other hand. "Guess I got a bit carried away, huh?" He looks at you from under his lashes.

"Why do you care in the first place?" You ask, genuinely curious about his...motivations.

"You fascinate me."

You quickly swallow. "Why?"

He shrugs. "Why not? Honestly, for the last couple of weeks, you're all I've been able to think about. For the most part, at least."

You grow quiet at that. You're not sure whether you should blush or balk at such a statement. In all honesty, it makes you feel a tad uncomfortable. All of it does, really.

"Can't find a girl your own age?"

He leans his head back, smirking. "Funny. Now who thinks highly of themselves?"

You cross your ankles. "So, instead of finding a hobby, you develop an infatuation with a random teenage girl, track her down to an abandoned house, and break into the room she's hiding from you in. I shouldn't find that weird? Maybe I should call the police."

Hearing it put like that makes him feel...not well with himself. It makes him sound...he doesn't want to think of what it makes him sound like. He's not...like that. He just wanted answers. That was all.

"You're the one living here, and you call me weird? And with what landline, sweetheart?"

"I told you I don't live here," you quickly shoot back at him, not replying to his comment about the non-existent phone.

"Ok, spend spare time here, then."

"You're avoiding what I said," you reply, burger now nearly finished.

He stares straight ahead, out the now-open doorway. He'd have a stop to make after work tomorrow now. Well, an extra one. "I don't have many friends, incase you can't tell by now. Well, none, really. Not anymore."

Quite a pair, you muse, taking your last bite.

He continues. "I'm not saying that's what I came here to find. I just..." He sighs, leaning his head back, shutting his eyes, utterly fucking exhausted. Not even he knows what the damn hell he's doing here. "Couldn't let it go, I guess. I wanted to meet you. Don't ask me why, because your guess is as good as mine."

He feels something bounce off his face then, and when he opens his eyes, the silver wrapper from your burger is now resting in his lap.

He looks at you with a raised brow.

You have a small smile on your lips, and you look at him for only a moment before picking your book back up again.

"You live in town?" He asks.

"I don't know, do I?"

He rolls his eyes. "I haven't followed you anywhere but here."

"Where do you live?"

He crosses his arms. "Outskirts of town."

"Why not in it?"

He becomes quiet then and you can tell there's something there to be discovered.

"Just don't like living on top of everybody else."

You hum your response, not really buying that answer.

He speaks again. "You still live at home?"

"I'm seventeen, so what do you think?." You turn a page.

He shakes his head. "So, you go to Hawkins High?"

"Mhm."

"Me too. Well, did. Graduated four years ago." He looks at you. "You like going to school?"

You shrug. "I don't much care either way. I'd rather be here, but..."

"Why not spend your time at home instead?"

"You sure do have a lot of questions."

"Plenty more where that came from. Never did answer." And he truly means it.

You sigh, shutting your book once more. "You're making it very hard to concentrate."

He nearly makes a flirtatious comment at that. It was only four years between the two of you. Occasionally, he still felt your age. Sometimes, however, he felt twice his own. He refrains. "I'll leave you to your reading soon enough. I only have a few dozen questions."

You blink at him.

"That's not sarcasm, by the way," he states.

"I promise I'm not nearly as interesting as whatever story, or version of me that you've come up with inside your head."

He waves a hand. "That's to be determined."

You turn more toward him then with an interested look.

He smiles. "I didn't really come up with a story about you, exactly. Just about what might be out here. Maybe you were camping, or swimming, or climbing a treehouse everyday."

"Well, you're at least somewhat right."

He raises a brow. "Oh?"

"There's a swimming hole not far from here."

He nods for a moment, then, "Should we go?"

You snort, standing. "So the strange man can drown me with no witnesses? Not likely."

You exit the room then and he quickly stands as well, following after you. "Where're you-" He's cut short by the sight of you disappearing around a corner, heading downstairs.

His boots thump loudly against each step as he tries to catch up to you. "Hey!" He groans as he reaches the first floor, turning toward the back of the house, watching as you exit through the rear screen door.

"The fuck am I doing," he mutters, following you outside.

He finds you seated on a porch swing that's missing a couple pieces of wood, the white paint nearly gone.

You stare up at him, watching as he positions his hands on his hips, only glancing momentarily to his partially unbuttoned shirt. You slip off your sneakers, crossing your legs before you as you begin to lightly swing yourself.

He looks off into the distance and sees the place is surrounded by yet more tall grass, but there's also a few apple trees. Surprising, he thinks.

He walks out, you watching him, as he pulls two ripe green apples from branches, heading back in your direction.

He sits, placing one on the banister behind the two of you before retrieving his pocket knife and slicing off a piece, handing it to you.

Gingerly, you take it from him, your fingertips brushing against his own, sending a jolt of excitement through him. Good lord, it'd truly been a long time, hadn't it? Since he had any form of female attention. Other than occasionally being ogled at the shop by women standing next to their soft-handed, clueless, accountant husbands.

You chew slowly, studying him.

And he just stares back at you doing the same. Only difference is, you don't seem bothered by the eye-contact. Four years ago, he would've known exactly what to do with you. Now? Not so much.

"Anything you want to ask me?" He says, eager to break the silence.

You consider for a moment, him now lightly rocking the both of you, pushing against the wooden floorboards of the back porch with his boots.

“Your accent—you’re not originally from here, are you?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “No. My old man moved us here when I was seventeen. From California.”

Long ways, city boy, you think. “Where is he now?”

He slices off another piece, popping it in his mouth, and then another one for you. He shrugs. “Still living in town. I run into him every now and again after work.”

There’s a story there. “Do you not get along?”

He’s silent again, slicing off another piece and then another. He has no idea why he chooses to divulge it to you, but if he wants you to trust him—to continue giving him answers as well—he has to give you something in return. “We never have. He used to smack my mom around. Until she left. Then it was just me, and I started getting the brunt of it. He remarried. Got a new step-daughter, which became my fuckin’ problem to look after. Once I was eighteen and out of school, he couldn’t get rid of me fast enough.”

You see the pain of it in his eyes, this truth he’s shared. You weren’t used to such honesty, because honest people were not the types you typically kept company with. By any means.

He looks at you again, handing you another slice.

You take it, chewing thoughtfully for a moment. 

“What about you?”

You stare at him for just a moment, wondering if you were really about to do this. Tell him this most dark, hidden truth about your life. One that…if it reached the wrong people—cops that weren’t already in the ‘right’ pockets—it could mean the end. For many. Not that you’d shed a tear to watch a single one of them fall. At least that way, they’d never touch you again. Ever.

“What do you do for a living?”

He frowns. “I asked you a question fir-”

“And if you want me to answer it, you’ll tell me what I’ve asked.”

His brows furrow. “I’m a mechanic.”

You sit forward then, holding out your hands. “Give me your hands, then.”

His confusion only grows. “What?”

“If you’re a mechanic, it means you work with your hands all day. They should be rough—callused. Otherwise, I’m going to assume you’re lying. Maybe you’re a cop. Maybe that’s why you’ve been watching me. Maybe you think you know something. So, you either give me your hands, or I leave, and this conversation is permanently over.”

He suddenly wonders just who the hell he’s talking to. What it is that you’re involved in, exactly.

He gives you his hands, and you turn them onto their palms. Callused most certainly, dirt—perhaps oil—seeped into the cracks, even. Rough like sandpaper. A familiar sensation that you’ve felt across every inch of you and then some.

You glance up to him, squeezing them tighter. “Are you a cop?” You ask with a raised brow, almost certain he isn’t. 

“Do I look like a cop?”

You continue to stare.

He sighs. “No, I’m not a fuckin’ cop.”

You let him go then, leaning back, crossing your arms. “My dad and I…we keep our distance from one another. I do as I’m told when he does occasionally tell me to do something—mostly helping him with the…family business, or household chores, and in return, I can do as I please without him bothering me.”

He takes one of your feet into his lap then, gently tugging your sock off, laying it to the side and massaging your sole. “And what is the ‘family business’, if you don’t mind me asking?”

You’d not been expecting the tender gesture on his part. But, you spent a lot of time walking. For various reasons. So, your feet aching was a regular occurrence. 

This was nice of him to do. Or perhaps he had other motives. Not that you'd be surprised. Men always did. Especially with you.

You’d not told this truth to anyone. And you’d known this man for perhaps an hour and you were ready to tell him this? Maybe you truly were a stupid girl. You’d heard as much a time or two.

“He’s a dealer. Meth, mostly.”

His hands falter. “And you help him by…?”

You shrug, reaching for the extra apple, taking a bite. “Like I said, doing as I’m told. That’s all you get for today. In regards to that question, at least. That subject.”

“And where is your mom in all of this?”

Another shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Where the damn hell had you come from? You seemed intelligent enough. Too much for your own good—or, perhaps, just enough. You did not come off as the daughter of a drug dealer.

He just looks at you, and you at him. His gaze softens. “You come here to get away from it. Does he make it in the house?”

You shake your head. “There’s a shed. Not that he doesn’t sometimes do it in the house, but it’s not often. That much he bothers with trying to keep away from me. He’s stressed time and again that he wants me to stay away from it, even if I’m surrounded by it…”

Your tone has grown quiet now, even perhaps a bit sad. 

You’re no longer looking at him.

“I’m sorry.” It’s all he can think to offer, and he knows it falls woefully short of what you deserve to hear.

You take another bite, a small one. “Me too.”

He leans his head back, closing his eyes, hand resting atop your ankle. “Just when I thought this shithole couldn’t get any worse.”

“You asked.”

His lip twitches. “I guess the only difference now is that I know.”

You notice the swing has stopped rocking. “Been here the whole time.”

“I guess so.”

After a handful of minutes, he begins to snore softly, and you know it’s time to go. You gently remove your foot from his lap, then reach over, retrieving your sock, and slipping it back on, then your sneakers.

You walk over, shrugging on your backpack, and then you stop and stare at him for just a moment.

He truly was very…pretty. For a man, that is. The types you were often around were typically more on the rugged or rough side. Handsome could be the adjective used to describe one or two. Pretty, however? Never. 

Long, dark lashes, full lips, bright eyes—when they’re open, that is—a sharp jawline, and dark stubble, hard planes across his abdomen; what you can see of it, at least. He almost looks like he belongs on the cover of a magazine. Perhaps Popular Mechanic, you think with a smirk. 

You step over to him, then lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. And then you consider for a moment, before brushing another over his lips before pulling back, whispering ‘see ya’, before heading out. 

When Billy wakes again, it’s not quite an hour later, and when he looks to the side of him, you’re gone, an apple core sitting in the spot you’d previously occupied. 

He rises, stretching, then heading inside, calling for you. To no avail. 

He heads upstairs, and finds every room and closet empty. So he heads back down, exiting the house, knowing: he’ll see you tomorrow—his mystery girl.

[pancakeke]

multi tools love to have 5 different tiny shitty blades you cant sharpen and a bottle opener

[fisheito]

non horny ask: what kinda irl snake would Yakumo be? venomous or non venomous?

my instinct says venomous purely because that opens up the fun possibility of magical side effects whenever yakumo bites someone (i want his venom to have a mild numbing property so he can bite me and i can finally get a decent night's sleep)

i'm openinmg up the search gtengine for this (HEY SNAKE FREAKS IN THE AUDIENCE!! IF YOU HAVE SUGGESTIONS THEN SHOW THE CLASS 👉👇👈👐)

(spoiler alert: i am no closer to an answer than when i started. we're just looking at snakes together)

flashback: i once pointed at western worm snake and laughed because BABY

but let's assign yaku a larger counterpart for when he's feeling big and brave i briefly considered the nonvenomous approach but i'm gonna joke that yakumo has a bigger oral fixation>>squeezing fixation on eiden so uh, this snake is all about the mouthparts i guess

i mean.. the snakes that constrict will inevitably hoRMPH(gulp) too so it would be reasonable to make yaku a nonvenomous squeezer. but. my bias says venom time, ,today

considering his ridic Great Serpent ancestry, he's probably gonna have a potent venom so let's look up Hella Dangerous Bitey Boys *typetypetypeclickclaxke*

side thought: are some species generally more aggressive than others? or does it vary moreso by individual? hmm. let's see if we can find a danger noodle that's reeaaaallllllly not into using its fangs as a first response

..... .......... i'm overwhelmed by choice again so i'm gonna start relying on aesthetics by which i mean altho i love defaulting to boas for their :3 face

i feel like yaku would be more of a streamlined snake skull like the neck isn't distinguished very well from the head... I wANT to see him as :3 snake puppy face but i also need him to have zero structure. absolute jello. no bones. skullless. just a *USES LINE TOOL*

wait. if i rely on Looks does that mean i can only choose IRL snakes that are black or subdued colours? because yaku doesn't want to be perceived, after all........

[eyes start to glaze over] -nondescript colouring -venomous (perhaps potently so) -not aggressive?? the type to strike ONCE , or wait-- is he more of a multi-striker.. fast? no... he seems like he'd be slow..if Dark Nova/Shadow Lineage is any indication..? slow OHKO heavy hitter? no, not "slow". HESITANT heavy hitter? ... -heat sensing organs? or just drawn to the heat? THE TYPE TO ONLY PREY ON OTHER VENOMOUS SNAKES--no no that's not right yaku will eat everything uhhhhhh

[SHAKES MY HEAD VIOLENTLY LIKE A WET DOG REBOOT]

call me basic but i like the look of mambas....

(sadly the black mamba doesn't have black scales but LOOK AT THAT MOUF!!!!!!!!!!)

wait how about a snake that hangs out in east asia? MOUNTAIN KEELBACK????? lil diamonds all along the back .nice

LOOK AT THE MASSIVE ORBS on *THIS* keelback.......

would he be arboreal like those funky vine snakes? mmm.., unlikely? i don't think yaku has shown much of a desire for heights... at least not yet (flashback to Puzzling Investigation Blade's impromptu takeoff)

what about a rattlesnake??? err... nah... yaku doesn't seem like much of a defensive butt wiggler....

Now i'm rethinking my entire instinct on VENOMOUS because ...Dark Nova 2 had yaku going snake-ish and eiden was ALL UP IN HIS fangs but he didn't feel any ill effects besides, you know, the physical obstacle of yaku shoving forked tongue down his throat-- EURYJK WHAT DO I DO . look at more cool snakes

OKAY BUT WHERE ARE THOSE SNAKES WITH THE PRETTY LOWER LASHES LIKE THE EYELASH VIPER, BUt LOWER lashes???

CAN I GET A LOOK AT ONE OF THOSE? do they exist? did i hallucinate the glorious snake lower lashes? do they belong to another reptile? boo.......

WWAIT NO, RIGHT, THE EYES, I SHOULD HAVE STARTED WITH THE EYES THAT'S AN EASY WAY TO NARROW DOWN A YAKUSNAKE

ok.ok. slit eyes. but a lil squiggly. thunderbolt eyes? the creative freedom of it all. let's go with slit eyes but wibbled by tears...

HOLD UP ! HIS EYES LOOK LIKE A TOKAY GECKO'S . IS YAKUMO ACTUALLY JUST A REALLY LONG GECKO?????

DESCENDANT OF THE LEGENDARY GREAT GECKO...........

[howlingday]

idea: Whitley having a Swiss Army knife as a weapon. Not like a fancy, multiple weapons in one Swiss Army knife you’d expect from a show like RWBY, just a regular Swiss Army knife with a larger than usual blade. It fits since whitley isn’t really a combatant and is more suited to out of combat situations, so his weapon has out of combat utility. Also the schnees tend to favor bladed weapons, with Weiss’s rapier, Winter’s saber, and Nicholas’s anime lookin’ sword. Weiss is proud of Whitley for deciding to learn how to defend himself somewhat but is a bit disappointed by his choice of weapon.

"It just doesn't look all that impressive." Weiss criticized. "There's not even a slot for dust application."

"I wanted something simple and easy to use." Whitley grumbled. "I'm not going out to save the world. I'm simply having every tool I need to solve whatever problem I come across." He flipped out a screwdriver. "If there's something that needs screwed in, or screwed out, I use this." With two more flips, the screwdriver receded, and a wrench took its place. "If I need to turn a nut or a bolt, then I use this. It's not different from your use of multiple dust in one weapon."

"Ooh~! What's this~?" Before Weiss could argue with her brother, her leader arrived to fondle his weapon. "It looks really neat!"

"W-Well..." Whitley cleared his throat before stepping away with his multi-tool. "This is Einer-Für-Alle, or EFA for short, and it is a multi-tool with more than a dozen tools for just all of your household needs! Seals? Tightened! Screws? Installed OR removed! Why, it even has a knife in the event of defending yourself! Yes, the EFA is perfect for every man or woman looking for efficiency!"

"Ugh... Did you have to use your sales pitch voice?" Weiss groaned.

Ruby giggled. "I like it! It kind of makes me wish I had one of my own. This is probably the best thing I've seen in, like, a week~!"

"O-Oh, uh, th-thank you..." Whitley muttered, face red as an apple.

"Oh, we gotta go." Ruby took hold of Weiss' hand. "See ya later, Weiss' bro!" Ruby then ran off.

"Y-Yes... See you..." Whitley turned away, stiffly walking down the hall until he turned a corner. From there, he leaned against the wall and looked to his creation. All of a sudden, it seemed to have a new light to it. Something that made it feel almost... heavenly...

'I like it~! This is probably the best thing I've seen in, like, a week~!'

Whitley felt himself reinvigorated. If this impressed her, then he had to try harder! Go bigger! Bolder! With pink on his cheek and EFA in his hand, he swiftly made his way to his room. Blueprints won't draft themselves!

[theoutcastrogue]

Knives for Commoners

Precious daggers are cool and all, but I’m very fond of simple pocket knives, made to get shit done. So here are a few farmer / peasant knives, ranging from penknife- to sickle-sized.

1. Grafting knife (greffoir) from Thiers, France

This little multi-tool has a curved blade (very used and sharpened, it was originally wider) and a smaller wavy blade. It’s primarily for cutting the stock plant and the plant shoot (or bud) that you mean to graft, though it’s also good for small pruning jobs and general utility. It locks by slipjoint, the standard pocket knife locking mechanism that you’ll find in Swiss army knives. The small flat thing is a bark lifter, it’s made of bone and it’s used for bud grafting: when you insert a bud beneath the bark of a stem, you have to be extra careful to not injure the bark, so you don’t want sharp edges there.

The handle has scales of bone, carved like this in order to look like stag (which is rarer and more expensive). A similar way to accomplish this is “jigged bone” scales, found in a lot of old/classic American and English knives:

Sheffield hunting knife by Joseph Allen / American folding knife by Camillus

which I honestly think is too... regular, sometimes it looks machine-made even when it’s handmade. But this handle here is sculpted, it’s a work of art, I love it.

Manufactured sometime in *waves vaguely* the 20th century (probably 1930s-1960s) by the cutlery A. Bardin-Dozolmé. The blade is stamped “57 BARDIN Garanti”, which tells us nothing useful, this stamp’s been around since the 18th century. It’s 9.2 cm closed and 14.7 cm open. (3.62 / 5.79 inches)

2. Pruning knife (trinxet) from Mallorca, Spain

I’ve shown you this before, it’s got a curved carbon steel blade, a horn handle, and “friction lock” as they call it nowadays i.e. no lock whatsoever, it’s a clasp knife. And it’s the simplest, most convenient tool, I adore it.

Made by the cutlery Hermanos Campins in Consell, Mallorca, stamped “HNOS CAMPINS / CONSELL”, mid-20th century, 9.7 cm closed and 17 cm open. (3.82 / 6.7 inches)

3. Shepherd knife (couteau de berger) from Corsica, France

Another clasp knife (doesn’t lock), different shape, with a ram horn handle. Shepherd knives look like utility or bushcraft knives, their blades are not usually curved but they often have a clip-point shape, and they’re quite sturdy.

This is an outlier, it wasn’t really made for work, it’s for tourists or collectors. However, it’s handmade in the tradition of Corsican knife-making (as opposed to the more famous vendetta knives which were manufactured in mainland France, though I should clarify this shape isn’t uniquely Corsican either, it was widespread in both France and Italy), with a couple of modern touches: the blade is forged with a decorative flair, and the horn is first carved at the ridges (to emphasise it’s ram, I’m guessing) and then polished like a mirror.

It’s a strong, solid knife, and absolutely gorgeous.

Made by a local knife-maker (unfortunately I don’t know the name, the blade is signed but with a symbol) in Sartène, Corsica, maybe a decade ago. 11.5 cm closed and 19 cm open. (4.53 / 7.48 inches)

4. Folding billhook (roncola) from Italy

Billhooks are farming tools for cutting and pruning, though usually they have fixed blades. This one isn’t just folding, it’s an actual picklock, like a switchblade. (I mean with the same locking mechanism, it doesn’t open automatically or anything). The blade is carbon steel (that’s a lot of carbon, folks!) and the handle is beautiful, made of carved wood, with brass (I think) insets, and with a fancy external backspring.

Folding billhooks were exported from Italy to the UK. From 1961, a lot of them were imported by Whitby Knives, stamped “Whitby”, and were made in Maniago by Mauro Mario, a prolific knife-maker who also made a ton of switchblades. They looked like this:

The one I got looks earlier to me, but honestly I have no idea when it’s from. Early 20th? Late 19th? *uncertain noises* In any case, it’s 12 cm closed and 22.5 cm open. (4.72 / 8.86 inches)

5. Huge pruning knife (saca tripas) from Guanajuato, Mexico

And last but not least, a big fuck-off pruning knife, which locks securely with a ratchet and unlocks with a pull-ring. This is basically a folding sickle, you reap stuff with it, and can cut thick branches. The very curved carbon blade (it’s not over-sharpened, that’s its original shape) is stamped with a “J”, and the handle is made of horn, with an iron backspring.

The name is extravagantly bloodthirsty, it means “disemboweller” (saca tripas = “pulls out intestines”), and is of course a misnomer: this isn’t a weapon, it’s a farming tool. (Could it be used as a weapon? Well of course, but so can kitchen knives.) I’m not entirely sure if it’s really called that way, or only as a jest, or for the express purpose of selling one of them to bloodthirsty types, i.e. to morons. [Pet peeve: mislabeling work knives as “military” or “fighting” or “tactical”, when they’re clearly for utility, and often for some specific farming job. I even saw an ad for a knife like this describing it as a torture implement, for fuck’s sake people, IT’S FOR CUTTING PLANTS.]

So anyway, these knives can be found all over Mexico, and this one hails from the city of Guanajuato, or at least it was bought there at some point. It’s 16 cm closed and 28.5 cm open. (6.3 / 11.22 inches)

The lot of them

Despite the fact that all these are work knives (except the Corsican, but only technically: it emulates a specific, older work knife, and it’s still 100% functional), a clear effort has been made to make them pretty. And I LOVE this. Even the trinxet, which has a monochrome handle and no frills at all, is elegant in its simplicity, and they all have something going on, carvings, decorations, handles shaped to please the eye, materials chosen for their nice colour.

Aesthetically speaking, I think knives went to shit when plastic was adopted. (Practically speaking, I admit plastic is a lot more resistant to the elements; a handle of horn or bone must be kept dry or it shrivels, wood must be kept from dryness or it shrinks, bugs and mites eat it, it’s a mess.)

Not one blade here is stainless steel, and it shows.

Only the handle of the grafting knife (the smallest one) has scales riveted on a metal frame. Not coincidentally, it’s the most industrial production, it came out of a Thiers factory. (Thiers is a major cutlery centre, like Sheffield and Solingen.) The rest were hand-made in a workshop or at most a cottage industry (a bunch of people in a village construct parts and someone assembles them), and their handles are solid blocks of material (horn or wood), with a slit in the middle to fit the folded blade. That’s the simpler, older construction.

Folding knives are cool.

@tuulikki​. And @victoriansword​, @petermorwood​, @peashooter85​, I know you’re into the fancy stuff, but here I am plying humbler wares and hoping. :)