#disposable fountain pen

[petermorwood]

This popped up on my YouTube the other day and not to brag, but...

Oh, why the hell not? It's a small brag, but satisfying. :->

I posted about refilling the Pilot Vpen (IRL-UK) / Varsity (US) - and adding how-to links - about 4 years and then again a year ago.

Here are the how-to links; I'm glad to see they're still active.

This one, like the video, calls for pliers and suggests removing the nib:

This one doesn't use pliers or separate the nib from the feed.

*****

Bragging aside, I'm pleased to see Brian Goulet of Goulet Pens giving this hack a higher profile (and Kudos for it, too - as a retailer it's more in his interest to sell them than refill them!)

His reason is very sound: those cheap little pens (usually about 3-to-4 local currency units whether €, $ or £) are ideal for FP-curious newbies or as no-loss-worries when travelling or no-damage-worries loaners.

They also have much better nibs than the price would suggest. Indeed that seems common to all the inexpensive Pilot pens I've tried, which includes every nib size of MR / Metropolitan.

In addition, IMO the notion of "disposable" fountain pens goes completely against the principal FP virtue, where once you've bought the pen, all you USE is the ink.

*****

I should mention, for completeness, that some "starter" fountain pens have prices not much more than these disposables and, refilled by "proper" ink cartridges / bottle-refill converters, don't involve anything like this trouble.

Just saying...

*****

It just so happens that one of my two Vpens was about due for a refill, so here are some pics of the process.

I scrubbed the markings off the barrels a long time ago so I could see what was inside, since refills mean the ink in the pen often has nothing to do with its colour-indicator cap.

First, disassembled and washed in changes of warm water until the water stays clear.

Here's the nib and feed: they've always come out of both Vpens as a single unit, with no need for pliers. Since the nibs show no desire to come off I've no desire to force the issue and maybe break something; those little ink-guide fins are delicate.

The filler is a small syringe begged from our local vet. I also use it to refill cartridges with custom ink colours (yup, I sometimes roll my own...)

Its "needle" is plastic tubing (an empty Pilot gel-pen cartridge, appropriately enough) which fits the syringe perfectly, and a pointy end made by stretching the tube over a candle-flame then snipping to length. If it gets too stained - this is nearly there - just chuck it in the recycle bin and make a new one.

The ink could have been any of the 30-odd I have at the minute, or something mixed specially, but I chose this one - a nice dark green - for the same reason @dduane had me buy it.

It's a very cute bottle... :->

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And here's the "disposable" pen refilled, reassembled and re-writing.

It really does have a better nib than you'd expect from a supposedly single-use pen...

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It sometimes takes a while for the ink to work its way by capillary action down from barrel to nib, especially if everything has been left to dry after washing. Put the cap on the pen and be patient.

Or speed things up by taking the cap off and running a thin stream of hot water over the barrel for 30 seconds or so. This increases internal pressure, forcing the ink along the section fins.

NB, this step is only for a refilled Vpen / Varsity. Don't try it with anything else, and in case it's not obvious, do this at a washbasin or sink, because You Never Know.

Now use a bit of kitchen paper or loo roll to blot the water which has got on the nib. This has a mild "suction" effect, and when you see ink on the paper (you might need to wet the nib again) your refilled pen is ready for use.

This wet-and-blot nib step can be used to encourage any stubborn fountain pen to get back in action, but the hot water trick, once again, is Vpen only.

Anyway, done.

[daftpatience]

I had to search for one because I'm moving and they're mostly boxed up already, but I have these disposable fountain pens (like the crappy bic pens of the fountain pen world) and I think they're super neat, and also $9 USD for 12 on amazon.

You're the reason I got the courage to just buy some because I always thought "ugh they're so pretty but my handwriting is so bad, I can't justify the expense," then saw you posting so many pretty pens and inks and decided to just go for a cheap one, and found these. Somehow my handwriting has actually improved since I started using them, without much actual intent or effort.

The thing:

yay omg the thing!!!!!! I'm so glad you were able to get the courage to try them out!!! it's neat how they do that - I've found my own handwriting has gotten a lot more flowy and loopy over time using them, even though I could never write in cursive as a kid (I grew up right at the tail end of when they forced you to learn loopy handwriting in elementary school)

I hope everyone knows that you don't need to be a fancy schmancy person with fancy schmancy handwriting to use fountain pens! there are lots of cheap ones out there, and you can have any handwriting you want to have, the pen won't be upset about it!

I use my pens for to do lists, grocery lists, doodling, etc. and the joy I get out of such a small nice thing is immense. on top of that since fountain pens require way less pressure to write than ballpoints or even pencils I've found they're a big relief on my wrists!!!

the joys and benefits of fountain pens are many and I love them forever yay yay

[nerdyqueerandjewish]

My fountain pen ran out of ink while I was Out and About today and I had to use a normal ballpoint pen and it was wretched. So much pressure is required to write anything

[discountalien-pancake]

The friendship harem has started up some good old analog correspondence, so I fell down a fountain pen rabbithole and splurged on some new materials. Did I choose a very expensive ink purely because it was glass green and named Cinderella’s Slipper? Absolutely.

In the meantime, I dug out a very old, inexpensive dried up pen that I have no idea where it even came from. Took it apart and tossed the nib and cartridge into a bottle full of water to dissolve the old ink.

Something about this image of my dimly lit desk covered in art supplies and papers and random junk, with a bottle of bright blue water smack in the middle of it is immensely pleasing?? No idea why.

Anyway, perhaps I will pick up a bottle of less expensive, more versatile blue-black ink tomorrow so I can put my cheap pen to use while I wait for my nice pen to arrive.

[thelongestrose]

on that note holy shit are fountain pens so much better to write with than ballpoint or even gel pens, you're telling me that not only does it look fancy and can be used for years, i also don't have to use any pressure and the ink shows up clearer??

On one hand I understand not teaching cursive in school anymore, because it actually is slower than regular handwriting and almost everything is typed on a keyboard now anyways.

On the other hand, so much of our (even recent!) history was written in cursive, and having a whole generation of kids who can't read letters written by their grandparents, momentos saved by their great-grandparents, or even photo albums from theur immediate family seems like a dangerously quick way to detach us from previous generations.

And on the third, related but slightly malformed hand, I feel bad that yet another form of small, everyday art that brings joy in the middle of mundane tasks, which celebrates personality and individual style and self-expression, is about to fade into obscurity because it wasn't efficient enough for today's world to put up with.

Like... if we continue to whittle away the small arts out of every day life, what's going to be left except stark, ruthless pragmatism?

Maybe writing a grocery list is less mundane when you get to feel elegant for a moment. Maybe you're a little more proud of what you write when you see it flow together like a painting

[stroodlenoodles]

Termina Characters as Fountain Pens

Starting with Daan he'd be a Waterman Hémisphère, it's fancy but not obnoxiously so

Abella is a Kaweco Steel Sport, which is basically indestructible

O'saa is a Montblanc Meisterstück (the limited edition 'Around the World in 80 Days' pen) purely because the patterns remind me of his jewellery + clothes

Olivia is a Faber-Castell Ambition Coconut, the mix of wood + chrome made sense to me

Karin is a Pelikan Souveran M1000 Renaissance Brown because OF COURSE she had to be one from the brand named after a bird lol

Pav is a Platinum #3776 Century, it's in the colour laurel green which represents victory (pretty ironic for him)

Marcoh is a Gravitas Stainless Steel Sentry because oh lawd it hefty (it weighs 84 grams!)

Levi is a Pilot V-Pen which are known to be disposable, therefore linking with his life as a child soldier. Sorry buddy...

Marina is a Sailor Pro Gear Fairy Tale in the colour Grateful Crane, mostly for vibes

Samarie is a Parker IM Achromatic Matt Black, it's literally tall, dark and skinny just like her

Tanaka is a Nakaya Heki-tamenuri, it's designed for everyday use (perfect for a business man)

Henryk is a Pilot Metropolitan, looks fancy but actually pretty reasonable

August is a Parker Centennial, vintage type

As for Caligura....

[starlightshadowsworld]

Atsushi trailing behind Akutagawa as they return to Yokohama. Aya is talking about something that has Akutagawa listening intently. He pauses when he hears Atsushi’s footsteps stop.

He follows his gaze to a building that means nothing to Akutagawa but everything to Atsushi. Atsushi stares at it for a few seconds before walking inside it. He doesn’t notice his two companions following him in.

Stepping over yellow tape and the traces of military investigation. He grabs a cleaning brush and begins to sweep dirt and dust. It’s probably bringing more in then getting rid of it. But neither Aya nor Akutagawa have the heart to tell him.

The two of them silently copy his actions. Akutagawa takes down the boards on the windows while Aya picks up fallen pencils and documents.

Atsushi sets the chairs and desks back in their original places. His touch is nothing but kind as he tends to the office.

He sets the bag of unopened sweets on Ranpo’s desk. He hangs up the award Fukuzawa was so proud of beside his. All the expired medications are properly disposed of with a note of what needs restocking.

Never has a cleaver been held with such warmth.

Kenji’s letters to home are organised and put away. He bins the leftover crepe on Kyouka’s desk with a silent apology. Along with the cake on Junichiro’s desk. He slips the blue fountain pen into his pocket with a sad smile.

Dazai’s desk was thrown aside and Atsushi places is neatly beside Kunikida’s. He can see the notes they slipped each other mid meeting, the insults faded on the page and he leaves it be.

Atsushi holds every shred of his home in gentle hands. Even as his own burn red and raw. Even if he wants to throw his own desk aside he can’t.

The detective sits on his chair with a heavy heart. He tries to imagine the laughter and chatter that should echo around him. But there’s nothing but silence.

The lights are on but no one’s coming home.

[salembehindbars]

I love my journals. I love iced coffee, knit sweaters, film cameras, carrying a disposable camera everywhere I go, my mascara routine, expanding my ‘To Be Read’ list, browsing on Pinterest for hours, listening to my music at full volume, watching horror movies, video essays, Stephen King books, Joan Didion, Dishwalla, writing, Autumn, stationary, fountain pens, 1966 Mustang Coupe 289 C4, Sabrina Necklines, Prayer Cards, stacks of filled journals, bike rides in 70 degree weather, apple picking, Lent, foggy autumn mornings, horseback rides, when my hair looks as black as possible, Ralph Lauren, fortune cookies, victorian rugs, cherries, tulips, peonies, apple pie, landlines, Häagen-Dazs, window seats, rosaries, Frank Sinatra, Maroon 1967 Pontiac GTO 2DR Hardtop, Nyx Rocky Road Butter Gloss, stained glass, burning CDs, cassettes, being sentimental, plane rides, New York, vests, Pretty Little Liars aesthetic in season 1, legalese, Law and Order: SVU, 2000s Halloween movies, Christmas everything, massive coffee mugs, Tiffany Style Lamps, vintage suitcases / trunks, leather boots, mary janes, embroidered lace, fall festivities, Horror movies, equestrians outfits, cranberry juice, Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders, 1920s engagments, The Time Travelers Wife (the show), pocketwatches, pictures of JFK Jr and Caroline Basset Kennedy, hair sticks, vintage jewelry, Sapphire, Emily the Strange, when the air is cold and crisp after rain, black cats, ladybugs, butterflies, white owls, calf boots, hair sticks, Hello Kitty, Strawberry Shortcake, Winx Club, Ever After High, camcorders, Pilot G-2 Pens, R.L Stine, Mazzy Star, tiramisu, dragonflies, Cristina Ricci movies, bangles, vintage cuffs, Amethyst, Elvira and Victoria’s Secret

Yeah, I love a lot!

[ethanmaldridge]

Hi! What would a good starter fountain pen be? Ballpoints hurt my wrist and I hate buying so many disposable gel pens. Is there a good starter fountain pen that is easier on the environment (ie, doesn't use cartridges or has a simple cartridge return program)?

All good questions! A decent fountain pen makes for a smooth writing and drawing experience. Fountain pens can be VERY expensive, but there are also a lot of solid, affordable options.

Here are some reccomendations for starters

Pilot Metropolitan: a solid, straightforward fountain pen. Inexpensive and has a nice weight to it. Not much flex to the nib, but good if you're not used to fountain pens.

Noodler's Ahab Flex: Great pen for sketching. The flexible nib allows for a lively line variation.

Jinhao 8802: really, most of Jinhao's pens make for good starters. They're dependable pens, and they offer a LOT of customization for not a lot of money. I have one with a gold dragon clip and polished redwood barrel, which looks great, and cost me like 25 bucks.

All of these pens either come with or can use a cartridge converter, which is a reusable ink cartridge that can suck up ink from a bottle. More environmentally conscious, plus customizing your inks is one of the biggest appeals of using a fountain pen!

[whysopasta]

guess who got a fountain pen

edit: i kept messing with it. ps im never buying a disposable pen again #teamfountain

[stellarnightstalk]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐀 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞!

pt. 1

I think I took a little too long to upload

The smell of ink and paper enters your nostrils, the balled-up sheets scattered around your mattress as you keep writing in your journal, or, her journal.

To cure the boredom you've been attempting to write down ideas to get him to divorce you, but always end up with scribbled pages or the paper balls you have around you. You placed the bottom of the fountain pen on your pursed lips in thought, and started writing.

Idea number 14: Beg him so much to divorce you to the point he just feels pity and accepts.

Idea number 15: Murder him and keep the insurance mo— “Yeah, no.” You tear the page apart and crumple it into a ball. Standing up from the mattress, you walk to the fireplace that you have installed in your bedroom and toss the paper ball into the blaze. "Can't risk being framed for something I only thought of doing."

Two weeks have passed since the conversation you had with Cedric. The king's daughter had already made herself comfortable in the estate about a week ago. Ever since then, you've made it your mission to avoid any problems between the two protagonists.

But, in addition to the heroine living with you, ever since you asked for a divorce, he has taken the liberty of “not neglecting you” and has attempted to arrange that every single day the both of you meet up in the garden for some quality tea time. An hour, every day. Which made the whole situation more difficult than it had to be. So naturally you refused him, which in return made him bring you expensive jewelry and dresses every day, the room was practically piling up.

You felt yourself trip on a diamond necklace that you had forgotten you had thrown on the floor and you fell head first on the cold ground with a yelp. Speak of the devil. Standing up from the floor, you grabbed onto your forehead and hissed, “Shit, that burns.” You glared at the necklace below your feet, angrily clutching the expensive item and stomping toward a window. You unlocked it, flinging it across who knows where. “Stop sending me gifts that aren’t money!”

“Gah!” A startled yelp echoed. Peering outside, you caught a glimpse of a messenger boy rubbing the back of his head, then you quickly closed the window. “Oops,” It probably didn't hurt that much. You made your way to the bed and retrieved the journal, flipping to the very first page. There revealed handwriting that clearly wasn't yours, the cursive letters written neatly and precise, with each letter flowing smoothly into the next. The villainess used to write a lot in this journal, seems like she didn't have anyone to speak to. It’s mostly just angry banter, as you'd expect from a villainess.

A piece of paper peeked out from one of the pages, out of curiosity you pulled it out and were met with a small portrait of the villainess. She looked young, probably in her teens. Her face was serious, expressing how she obviously didn't want to be there. Quite adorable. You flipped the tiny image, checking if there was a date on the backside. Instead, there was writing.

You still hold the same expression to this day. Don't forget to write letters, I'm here if you ever need me. - With Love, I.A

"IA? What kind of code name is that?" If you remember correctly, the villainess never had any friends, so whoever wrote this letter is beyond your knowledge. Could this be a background character? It doesn't seem that important if he was acquainted with the villainess. But the words stuck with you—could you ask this person for help? They did say they're here if you ever need them. But you don't even know who they are. Did the villainess trust this stranger?

Someone knocked on your door gently. “Your Grace?” You quickly hid the journal under the bed, grabbing all the paper balls in your arms and throwing them into the furnace to dispose of them fast. Out of breath, you sat on the bed, “Um… Your Grace?” The person repeated and you cleared your throat. “Come in.” You straightened your posture, as if you had just woke up.

The door gently opened, revealing a young maid. She bowed, her light brown bangs were covering her eyes. You hadn’t been in this place for long, but you think you knew all the people that worked here. She was new, you were sure of it. But why does she look so familiar?

“Good evening, Your Grace. The Duke has sent me after you for tea time,” she said with a slight tremble. Gosh, of course. “Tell him I won’t be there.” You stood up, striding to a luxurious vanity next to your bed, you looked at the mirror and touched your face. You never get used to the face. Changing your stare to the maid you noticed her narrowing her eyes from your gaze. You raised an eyebrow, “I'm sure that won't be a problem.” She gripped the handle, “Well, um, the thing is—”

She opened the door completely, revealing a variety of boxes stacked on top of each other. “He instructed me that if you disagreed, to hand over all of these.” You deadpanned. Of course, he’d do the same shit. “Should I… Bring it in?” She asked nervously but you raised a hand, rubbing your temple with the other. “No, there’s no need.” You sighed, getting to your feet and walking towards her, “Take me to my husband.” You mentally cringed at your words. “Of course, Your Grace!” She made her way around the boxes and placed her hands in front of her, accompanying you to Cedric, but you couldn't shake off the feeling that you recognized her.

“I have a question for you,” you started, making her slightly flinch at your words, ”What is your question, Your Grace?” She gulped, it looked like she was nervous. You're sure by that reaction that the rumors of the villainess had reached her ears, they all enjoy gossiping. “What is your name?”

“My name?” She tilted her head, confused by the sudden question but then she shook her head, terrified once more. “Apologies. My name is Edith,” She managed to stutter out.

Edith? That was the name of the villainess's most loyal maid. You examined her from top to bottom, earning a gulp from her. She was nothing like the novel described, she was squirmish and timid, while in the novel she was serious and brazen, which was the reason the villainess was interested in her. No wonder you didn't recognize her, she's a completely different character. But how?

“Which residence did you come from?” You decided to keep prying her with questions, if she was the villainess's most loyal servant you’d like to get her on your side. The correct answer on her part is that she came from a residence that the Duke conquered and that she was practically born to be a servant her whole life.

“I came with Her Highness, Your Grace.”

What? No, she didn't. You've read that novel like five times you practically have all the details memorized. There's no way in hell that she came with the princess, she still has the rights of a commoner. Since she hasn't been crowned, she didn't come with maids, she got appointed them after. Did you forget? Are you slowly losing your old memories, including the novel?

You bit your nails anxiously. One thing is for the course of the plot to be changed because of your actions since you reincarnated, but the land the Duke conquered was long before you came here. You couldn't have changed it because you weren't even there to alter it, it should have been like the story described it to be.

“Are you… Sure?” She looked at you perplexed, the question was dumb, and you knew that, but maybe she heard you wrong. “Um, yes, Your Grace.” Her voice cracked, so she cleared her throat, “I'm positive I came with the princess, I was with her in the carriage on her way here.” You shouldn't have been!

“You two must be close for you to ride in the same carriage as her.” Deny, deny! You thought, instead she looked away sheepishly. “Well, me and Ann— I mean, the princess and I have been close since childhood.” Childhood? You don't have a childhood! Edith was born into work and didn't have time for friends, which was why she kept to herself.

This situation was worse than you had anticipated. Edith was a significant asset to the villainess, and you needed her to be by your side. You opened your mouth to speak, but stopped when you realized that you had arrived at your destination. The place you were in was a greenhouse that belonged to the Duke. It was beautiful from the outside, and you wouldn't be surprised if it was just as stunning on the inside. Cedric always spent his time here; it was his safe place, but he never let the villainess enter. What had changed now?

Edith opened the gates of the greenhouse and went inside, you followed suit, taking in the view. The flowers looked beautiful, it was apparent that they were being taken care of very well. As you looked around your eyes were met with Cedric, his signature serious expression on his face made you sigh in response. It looks like he didn't notice you were here yet.

“Duke Ironheart, the Duchess has arrived.” Said Edith, bowing with a slight tremble. His head turned to you quickly, you swore you heard a slight crack when he did. Cedric cleared his throat before speaking, “Good, you may leave us be. Stand outside with the others.” He said to Edith, which she in return quickly nodded and walked at a fast pace outside the greenhouse.

Before you could say anything, he spoke up, extending his hand at the chair in front of him. “Have a seat.”

You gulped in an attempt to get rid of an anxious lump. “Right, of course.”

——➻

Grabbing the teacup in front of you, you sipped it carefully. As you did, an overwhelming taste of bitterness invaded your mouth, making you cough at the unexpected flavor as you placed the teacup down.

“This tea,” You began, clearing your throat, “is it a new blend? I've never tried it.” You looked at the male in front of you. “Is it not to your liking?”Cedric spoke.

“It’s a bit bitter but nothing I can’t handle.” You replied to the man, grabbing the teacup to sip from it once more. He stared at you and suddenly clasped the top of your teacup, slightly bumping his gloved knuckles into your nose. The hell?

“I reckoned you liked this kind of tea.” He took the tea from you and sipped it himself. His eye twitched. “My mistake. It appears that it is too bitter for the intended taste.” He glared beside him, making the maids flinch and look the other way, then he looked back at you. “Do not force yourself to drink something you dislike. Throw a tantrum as you did, or anything.” He declared sternly, which made it seem like he was ordering you to do it. He says that so easily but whenever the villainess threw tantrums he’d always put her on probation or give her the silent treatment.

“Take the tea away, fetch something less bitter.” He said to the maids without a look, pointing at your cups. They took it, eagerly nodding and going their merry way. You watched them leave the garden with a sigh, “Your Grace, I was just fine with the previous tea.” Your words came out with a twinge of irritation, he simply crossed his arms.

“You don't address me by my name anymore.” He said, changing the subject. “Is that a problem?” You feign innocence, tilting your head to display your confusion. A hum could be heard from him due to your response, making you shift uncomfortably in your seat. The exchange ended there.

As you both sat beneath the shade of a weeping willow, the space between you two was now crammed with an uncomfortable silence. You tapped your finger on the table anxiously, looking towards the flowers on your left. Does the duke have a staring problem? You've been sensing his gaze ever since the maids left as if he's analyzing your soul or something.

"The flowers are in full bloom," you said, just to break the uncomfortable stillness. “It looks quite beautiful.” He hummed at your words, "You've noticed," he said with a subtle smile, which surprised you. "How could I not?" you chuckled, stopping when you felt his piercing gaze once more. "You weren't one to notice these kinds of things." Damn, you forgot about that. "I suppose I'm catching a glimpse of the more beautiful things in life." He gazed at the flowers and then at you. He stayed like that for a few seconds. "I suppose I am too," Cedric responded and you gave him an awkward smile, and once more, there was now uneasy silence.

As you glanced sideways, a cluster of vibrant daffodils caught your attention. You weren't lying when you said that the sight of the flowers was beautiful, especially against the environment of spring.

“The King is planning to hold a grand ball,” Cedric spoke up, choosing to break the silence, which came across as out of character for him. “Is that so?” You answered back with a hum, crossing your legs. “You will attend, of course. It would be unseemly for the Duchess to absent herself from such an important event.”

Right, the villainess was known for skipping out on balls that she thought held no interest for her. And when she did go, she’d always somehow be the center of attention, in considerably nasty ways.

Now that you recall, in the novel, the princess was exceptionally skilled and was able to learn etiquette at a fast pace, but since she was raised as a commoner she didn't know how to read or write, which caused her to stay for longer. Thus Cedric stepped in to help her, and she was able to learn quickly as well, which caught his attention more and made him develop deeper feelings of curiosity. Since the kingdom did not know yet of the princess's existence he decided to organize a ball to introduce his heir to the throne, which would also be her coming-of-age ceremony.

“Is there a specific reason for the decision?” You questioned him, seeking closure if your suspicions were correct. Your eagerness to continue the conversation appears to please him.

“The Princess has learned sufficiently.” He explained, earning a look from you, intrigued. He held a subtle smile when you did. “His Majesty has made the decision to ultimately make it known of his heir, it is also the Princess’s coming of age as well. He has sent us an invitation to attend.” So you were right. When he concluded his words, he handed you the invitation, which you snatched quickly. It held a golden lion engraved on its side, confirmation that it was sent from the royal household.

The grand ball exists as a monumental scene from the novel, that’s where the villainess tosses wine on the princess’s gown because Cedric asked her to dance instead of the villainess. When questioned, she cried out that the princess was a harlot who sought to steal her husband. Which resulted in Cedric lashing out at the villainess and taking the teary-eyed heroine to the royal garden. This is where they have a moment to exchange their feelings in silence, when the cold-hearted duke finally learns to trust another.

“When is it taking place?” You questioned, switching your stare from the invitation to him, placing the envelope on the table. “In three days.” He simply said, resting his cheek on his hand.

Your eyes widened, In three days? It’s only been a week. In that time the princess hasn't even learned how to read, let alone write. Cedric noticed your reluctance to speak, “Is that a problem?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow. “No, not at all. Just a bit surprised is all.” “Why so surprised?” Why so many questions? You mentally scowled. “It’s only been a week since the princess has been staying in the dukedom, yet she's already leaving.”

It’s just too sudden, you don't think you're mentally prepared. Maybe you could call in sick? Knowing Cedric he’ll probably call a thousand physicians and when he finds out you were lying he’ll put you on probation in the same ways he did to the villainess, or even worse, execute you for daring to disrespect him.

“I am the one who recommended the king to do it as momentarily as possible.” So you can cut off my head sooner?! “May I ask why you suggested that?” You asked sincerely, holding the ball in two days means that the princess will leave earlier than intended. That's not supposed to happen.

Some really important scenes were supposed to happen before the ball. The random count who was trying to court the female lead hasn't been introduced, which means he hasn't had confusing feelings of jealousy yet. That's why he asked the princess for a dance at the ball instead of the villainess. Or the slip-and-catch trope where she slipped while walking and landed on his massive chest creating unresolved tension for 3 whole pages.

Could it be that the plot is moving on faster than intended? Or not even happening at all?

He gazed at you with a blank stare for a moment without uttering a word. His expression became murky as he crossed his arms and leaned his head back onto the chair. “No particular reason.”

“Why? Are you jealous?” He questioned with a tilt of his head, his gaze boring into you. You deadpanned.

"What? No, of course not. Why would I be?" you replied bluntly. “It brings me joy that the princess has been able to learn quickly actually.” You smiled, “She must be a very clever lady.” Too clever, can't she slow it down a bit? You're trying to get you both a happy ending.

“You haven't met her, yet you are here praising her.” The furrowed eyebrows he had caught your attention. “Is there a problem with me complimenting the princess?” In the novel, Cedric is a very jealous man. But does he really feel jealous of another woman complimenting the female lead too? Weirdo.

“No, forget I said anything.” Gladly. And for the third time, again, silence. But it was for the better, you didn't want to speak for longer than you had to. This conversation was long enough for you to ignore him for about two weeks, it's draining to speak in such a royal matter, you always confuse your words.

But it made you anxious, the silence. Almost like he was scheming something, planning your execution right in front of you without your knowledge. What you would give just to have a look inside his mind, to know what he's pondering. Couldn't the villainess have powers? They debuffed her character just for the protagonist's plot armor.

Cedric was about to speak, but he was interrupted by the opening gates of the garden, which you assumed were the maids bringing out the newly brewed tea. "Thank you for the tea," You declared, making yourself more comfortable in the seat. "You're free to excuse yourself." You added, then changed your gaze to look at the person in front of you.

“Your Grace,” the maid bowed, her voice trembling slightly, a tray of tea resting in her hands. “Princess Annabeth has arrived. She has brewed you both some tea.”

Your eyes widened at the sight before you, the lady in front of you was in fact, a maid as you thought it had been, but she was accompanied by another. “Your Highness.” Spoke out Cedric, his stare now fully concentrated on the girl. “Good evening, Your Grace.” The young girl said with a radiant smile, the dimples on her cheek in full view. Her golden curls lay neatly on her face, confirming that she was the king's daughter since blonde hair was a sign of royal blood. Her emerald eyes looked directly at Cedric, and your eyes looked directly at her. The descriptions of her beauty in the novel were not exaggerated in the slightest.

Thump.

Grabbing onto your chest, you suddenly felt a familiar pang of jealousy. It was the same jealousy she had felt in the novel, shit. This must be the villainess's body reacting to her presence. You took a deep breath and tried to control yourself. This body had reactions that you couldn't control at all, when you reincarnated it didn't just come with her looks, it came with everything intact. Causing you to have out-of-control emotions, her emotions. This could be difficult to manage.

The female lead, Annabeth, was right in front of you, her hands behind her back. She looked like a young teenager, which made you remember that in the story she had just turned 18.

"I appreciate your help, Belda. You may excuse yourself," Annabeth said to the maid, whom you now know as Belda. “Of course.” She nodded, placing the tray on the table. Then made her way out of the room, closing the door with a bang, leaving the three of you alone. Cedric spoke up, not wasting a moment of silence.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were practicing your writing, as I had told you to do.” his words made Annabeth chuckle. You saw her tuck a curl behind her ear, placing her hands behind her back. “It’s my break time from practicing so that I can regain my focus,” She paused, slightly glancing at you. “In the meantime, I wanted for you two to try my new blend of tea.” She admitted, shifting her gaze from you to Cedric. Her eyes widened.

“I’m sorry, did I interrupt something? I can leave.” Annabeth said as she exchanged stares with the both of you. Cedric instantly spoke up, “Yes, actu—” Getting to your feet, you left his words unfinished, “Of course not, would you like to join us?” He looked at you with widened eyes, furrowing his eyebrows. ”I'm sure the princess has more significant things to do than tea.” He said it to you, but he was probably directing it to the princess as well. Damn, this slow-burn novel is burning good, too good. Fall in love already!

“She brewed us some tea, it's only natural to let her try some with us. It's proper manners," Cedric clenched his jaw at your words and then sighed. "Fine, as you wish." He ran his hands across his hair with a huff, crossing his arms afterward. Well, that was quick. You didn't even have to repeat it. You sat back down in content and patted the space beside you. His eyes narrowed at your gloved hand. "Take a seat, Your Highness. It's big enough for both of us.”

Annabeth raised her eyebrows, tightening her lips as she stared at the plush that lay below your hand. She looked as if she was lost in thought. “Your Highness?” You called out to her, which snapped her out of whatever thought she was in. “My apologies, yes, I'll sit. Thank you.” She gave a warm enigmatic smile. You squinted your eyes as a sudden radiant glow beamed around her. Damn, why is it so bright! She only just smiled!

“It’s no worries, no need to thank me.” You returned the smile, which resulted in a scoff from a neglected Cedric. Is he jealous or just annoyed? Maybe the plot is on its course after all, just differently.

“Allow me to serve you the tea I've brewed, my father sent me these tea leaves.” She said as she grabbed the teapot, standing up and pouring the tea for the three of you. Your cup being the last she poured. “I hope it’s to your liking.” She said with a smile directed at you. Cedric sneered and grabbed his cup, taking a sip, and so did you.

“Too sweet.” “It’s pretty good.” You and Cedric both looked at each other. It wasn’t a lie, the tea was good, just made your throat a bit itchy.

“I thought you weren't fawn of such sweet things.” He commented with a stern look, you gulped. “Change of heart?” You chuckle nervously. Damn, you forgot the villainess hated sweet things.

Annabeth covered her mouth and laughed, “Guess I put too much lemon verbena.” Cedric's eyes widen and he snatches your cup, throwing it on the ground. It shatters from the impact. You both look at him in shock and he slams his hands on the table, glaring at Annabeth. “What’s wrong, Your Grace?” She asked with furrowed brows, fidgeting with her hands.

“Are you trying to kill my wife?” Annabeth’s eyes widen and she looks at you, and then at him. “Wh-What do you mean? I would nev—” “Don’t lie to me!” He cuts her off, standing up abruptly, making her flinch.

“Cedric!” You called out, standing up and putting your hand in front of the princess, blocking her from him. He stares at you and raises his eyebrow, you see him gulp. “What do you mean kill me?” “How could you not—” He stops himself, staring at Annabeth and then at you. He grabs your wrist and with no word drags you out of the garden, leaving Annabeth behind. You try to object but to no avail. You look back for a split second to see the princess teary-eyed, and then the gates closed.

“Your Grace!” You call out to him, pulling your arm back from him, you two are already far from the garden. He turns around, “We need to get the doctor, quit resisting!” You cleared your throat, the itchiness of your throat was getting worse.

“Doctor? Why would I need a doct—” Before you finished, you suddenly got a pounding headache, making you wince and trip towards Cedric's chest. Now that you realize it, ever since you drank that tea you have been having difficulty breathing. You wheezed, your throat suddenly feeling much tighter than before. He grabbed your shoulders and you vaguely heard him yell something to the maids who were positioned outside. Resulting in them running to your side with terrified glances.

Your vision was getting blurry and you were sweating bullets. The hands that were on your shoulder gripped harder, making you wince. Your eyes were starting to get watery and itchy, you decided to close them to ease the pain for a bit.

And then there was silence.

from, your admirer

tags: @ohnoivefallen @julietdelamare @scotchhopin

credits:

neutral heart + star divider made by @cafekitsune

[newbornwhumperfly]

through the frightening door...

oof, so this was an angsty one, folks. 😢😢😢 i went and made a sad prompt - @whumpmasinjuly day six: left behind -  even sadder than it already was and in the process, i penned a big part of my boy morja’s backstory, so i’m gonna tag the story crew on this one. 🥺🥺🥺

CW: Grief, death of a loved one, dehumanization, just…big sads in this one, folks.  

title insp. by the poem “my dead friends” by marie howe - “billy’s already gone through the frightening door, whatever he says, i’ll do.” 

~

Diathésimós don’t have graves. 

The fallen must pay for a grave, or their families must, and graves are, they say, costly. Plots of land which could hold a house or a slot of gardened flowers or a new statue does not need to hold a patch of dirt and a stone. The ashes are poured into the wind, as disposable as they were in life. It is rare that a family, if the dead still have one, can afford to pay for the body’s return. It is rare, indeed, for one to ask. 

That doesn't mean their deaths are not marked by those who knew them. 

There is a stone, innocuous and small, where the dead are honored. Some write names down on the stone. Others don’t bother. 

There is one marking, one stone, Morja waits to visit. Part of it might be that he doesn't have to leave until he does this thing he must not neglect. 

It’s more than just the stone, of course. It would be silly to think of that only. There are places Morja won’t see again where she would go. Where she took comfort. And not seeing these places anymore will be the drag of a knife out from where it lodged. And he will pack the spot with rags to stop it from bleeding, field medicine, how well he knows how to do that. How to plug up a wound and keep walking. Don’t stop. If you stop, you’ll fall. 

But there’s…a way only she could find something pretty in this place. Like, there was a spot by the fountain in the courtyard where a stubborn plant grew. And it would get ripped out, an eyesore, nobody intended for this little purple flower to grow between cracks in the base of that marble foundation. But the dirt underneath was strong, Morja supposes, and Roe encouraged it, is the thing. She kept nudging aside the little shiny seashells that surrounded the root - decorative, ceramic, gleaming, imported from some shop to look more perfect than real shells, no sharp edges or rough surfaces. Morja remembers what a real seashell feels like. No, he doesn’t. But his maybe-memory is rougher than the shells in this courtyard. He knows this, at least, in the way he knows when an opponent is about to strike. 

But the purple stays caught in a sunbeam, is the problem. The shaft of daylight through the pillars hits the water as it sparkles and it hits the flower too. The water from the fountain falls on the patch of land bared by Roe’s hands. Somehow, it stays and stays. Somehow, it outlives her. Everything else has, after all.

This is, of course, where Roe’s stone lies. 

Where else would Morja have put it? The dead are dead, of course they are. Gone is gone and bodies are bodies, hollow bullet casings, no powder, no spark. Useless to collect, more useless to hold onto. But Roe wanted a stone. She would have wanted a stone, probably, certainly, yes. 

It is past the alcove with the missing statue where Roe perched, sweat-drenched from long training, or bleeding from a hit, tucked into the space once filled by the bust of a marble head. The space has stayed hollow, still, and on a dark night like this, Morja could imagine, if he were to try, that the black lines of her body melted into the hole in the wall. That maybe she were there, long-limbed and tiny, clambering up in there to nap. 

He told her so often not to. 

What if she got caught?

Her bright, black eyes would shine and she would say that until the statue took her place, this was her spot. 

Hers. Like she’d laid claim to it. So stupid. Nothing was theirs, she could never understand that. 

Past the alcove, still empty, Morja’s quiet steps go past the vine full of berries he was never brave enough to eat. Never disobedient enough. Of course. She got hit for taking the berries and she got more careful at taking them. Those berries weren’t hers to take, just because she watered the vines. 

The rows of women (goddesses, Morja was told) tall and imposing and cool to the touch, their eyes looking down to keep watch on the garden, on its dwellers, and Morja would shiver sometimes when he was younger, passing by them, because what if they saw him misbehave? What if their marble fingers pointed at him in accusation? 

Roe looked up and tilted her head, one foot angled like the goddess with a bow and an arrow, elbow crooked just so, Roe so good with her aim, as good a shot as Morja, even so young. Her palms swipe sweat off, passing over the flat expanse of her torso, tugging at the close-fitting training shirt, and twisting it to match the ripples in the fabric. 

It will wrinkle, Morja fretted quietly.

Do you think I could pull off a look like that? Roe asked, 

The marble’s paint is fresh and gleaming, blue cloth draped elegantly over one shoulder, baring the breast beneath the other, her body small and yet powerful, royal, gold glinting on the folds of her skirt and the twists of her sandals. 

I don’t think we could ever wear anything that…nice, Morja had answered. 

Of course she could have. That’s what he should have said. He didn’t want to raise her hopes. He didn’t- she would have looked royal and powerful as Athena. 

The huntress looks down at Morja, out when he should not be, and he doesn't shiver anymore. He doesn’t quail before imaginary eyes as he kneels at the base of the fountain, the moon shining silver on the purple petals. Other hands have pushed the shells aside since- since the stone was placed behind the blossom. The crude shape of an animal drawn with a shaky hand, white paint on a black rock, traces the outline of tiny hooves, spindly legs, the body of a deer. 

Morja doesn’t know who drew it. It’s beautiful. And he cannot take this stone. This is- it’s tradition and he has to respect it. It would feel wrong to move this stone as stones are not to be moved. 

But he looks at it for a long time. Kneeling on the cold stone, the mist of the water landing on him and wetting his face, taking the role of the tears he cannot shed. The stone and the flower blur before his eyes but that’s just because he’s tired. He’s so tired. 

Maybe…maybe the alcove did belong to her, in a way. She was the one who used it. Maybe the fruit on the vine was hers to sit under, to eat from, unafraid. Maybe this flower was hers because she’s the only one who gave a damn about it. 

Morja doesn’t want to leave the stone. The flower. The alcove and the statue. Fuck, he doesn’t want to leave this stone. What should I do? Who will- nobody will tell me to go. Nobody will, they never will, how can I go when I’m going on my own, when nobody has sent me? How can I leave this behind? How can I leave her behind?

But…she isn’t here. And Morja can’t be, either. Can he? He can’t take this stone. And he can’t stay and watch over it. 

Morja stands, every muscle in his legs protesting, sharp and tingling, at rising. It hurts as much to stand up from kneeling as it does to kneel. But he stands anyway. Leaves the stone under the fountain, behind the flower. 

Roe has gone. 

It is time for him to leave the stone and go as well.

~

oof, i hope y'all enjoyed this important piece of juicy tragic backstory, this glimpse behind the curtain. 😢😢😢💔💔💔

taglist: @haro-whumps @much-ado-about-whumping @whump-tr0pes @whumpthisway

@i-eat-worlds @redwingedwhump @straight-to-the-pain @wolfeyedwitch @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight

@whumpzone @whatgoeswhumpinthenight @whumpster-draganies @lave-whump @whump-me-all-night-long

@suspicious-whumping-egg @tears-and-lillies @kixngiggles @scoundrelwithboba @stoic-whumpee

have a very merry whumpas y'all! 💖💖💖💖

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

[daftpatience]

hello! i’ve found your fountain pen posts very informative; thank you for sharing them with us!

i recently got a twsbi eco medium nib and i love the steady ink flow. however after a few ink refills i noticed that the nib has a lot more feedback than when i initially got it. it’s not scratchy per se since it isn’t scratching up the paper surface, and the toothiness of the nib is felt more on downstrokes.

what do you recommend i do? i already e-mailed twsbi asking if its possible to acquire a nib replacement but i still haven’t received a response from them… thank you again in advance!

ahh thank you!! i'm super happy to talk pens anytime!!! i can think of a couple of things that might help - i'll go thru them!

inspect the nib real close. obviously this is probably something you've done, but occasionally a super tiny fluff or hair gets caught in the tines and causes a faint scratchy feeling. a magnifying glass or loupe can help. you can wipe at the tip carefully with paper towel to try and remove anything on it. if the tines are misaligned, you can realign them with this tutorial here.

buff the nib: this can be done with brown paper bag material. with an inked pen; draw long, even strokes, tilting the pen from a low angle to a high one, and also draw repetitive figure eights. this can help smooth out any imperfections in the nib.

floss the nib: if any gunk or fluff is caught in between the tines this can help clear it out. flossing a nib also separates the tines very slightly, and is often done as a way to improve the juiciness of a pen, so if it's already juicy enough i would be careful not to overdo it.

it's fairly common for new pens in this price bracket to need a little bit of polishing up, so it's handy to have these tools and skills at your disposal! ♥

[leebrontide]

LOOK AT THIS GORGEOUS PEN!

This is absolutely everything.

I don't know why it's $58 instead of like $200, but I can't see myself ever spending $200 on a pen no matter how beautiful it is, so I am very thankful.

Super wide grip. Iridium nib. Genuine shell piecework.

From now on my trusty ol TWSBY Go will be my on-the-go pen till it gives up the ghost. And this will be the pen that lives in my office and that nobody else is allowed to touch, and that I will use for all my office pen needs for the rest of time.

Happy birthday/novel publication day to me!

I'm so happy I was able to switch to fountain pens and stop burning through a disposable pen every two weeks.

[goldenstorm0]

ok controversial(ish) vintage fountain pen: I like Wearever pens

If you don't know, Wearever was a fountain pen brand who made a ton of cheap third tier pens.

But they made a ton of pens that highly vary in quality. The most common and shittiest pen they had was the Pioneer. Plastic pieces of shit, they made millions and sold them for basically pennies. They're practically considered disposable, even though they are either lever fill or cartridge fill. You will find them everywhere, warped and distorted and cracked. They are the go to when you are learning how to restore fountain pens because it doesn't matter if you break it. You can find another one and try again.

Right now I have a Pennant in gray, but it looks grey-green to me. It's practically mint, just a couple scratches from storage and very light use. Only problem is that it's been gutted, no sac or pressure bar, but hopefully that should be fixed soon. What it can do is show off the feed

It's see-through! That's neat! I like it! I am a simple person who like simple things like unique feeds! They are called c-flow feeds, because you can see the flow. That's kinda silly but it's cute and I like it

There is still is dried ink stuck in it, I usually only use water when I clean pens but I might have to get some specialized cleaner. And I know its a gimmick to up sales, it doesn't really do anything, but dammit I think it's neat

What I really want to get one day is one of their early pens, a De Luxe or a Zenith

source for top 2 pics , source for bottom pic

There sadly isn't too much info about the early days of the brand, or at least compared to more popular brands. I'd love to find out more but I have no idea how to go about researching that. But I do want to get one with a gold nib, and tbh it isn't too hard, I just... want that gold nib and reinforcement. I use to have one while not realizing what it was, and now its gone. So I'm back to hunting for a new one. And honestly I'm not hunting too hard, but if I run across another, I'm snatching that shit up.

[kanekoii]

We have yandere krisis and yandere xsoleil but what about them with a yandere reader too? (Yandere x yandere basically) 🫨🐩🏄‍♂️🗜️🪬

lyra’s notes -> oughh you a genius anon (written backstage lmao cuz it’s showtime now DA DA DUBIDUBI DU-)

pairings -> yandere! krisis, xsoliel x yandere! gn! reader

genre -> scenario, a little angst

song -> stalk me - 6arelyhuman, bayymack & pixel hood

warnings -> yandere obv, some parts are pretty violent, strong language, if you’re sensitive to violence or blood mentions just don’t read this

YU Q WILSON ->

you share the same interests, so it almost becomes a bonding activity. he’ll be more than happy to dispose of the people in either of your lives together once he finds out you’re just like him. any method possible is perfect. it’s a date with him to go threaten and frame anyone who got too close to either of you. the prettiest of flowers bloom in the bloodiest of soil, i suppose. he’ll send you love letters masterfully penned with what you could only assume was blood flowing out of a fountain pen. to anyone else, it would be horrifying and disgusting. though, to you, it was romantic and beautiful. the kind of thing that might make another person vomit made you swoon.

VANTACROW BRINGER ->

he’s a superhero, so you can bet this gives you quite a few targets. none of his obsessive admirers are safe, fuck he’ll even kill them himself. he’s just helping make your work a little more efficient, that’s all. soon, everyone will know about the hero whose admirers keep disappearing and how nobody knows who’s behind their mangled bodies appearing in the streets. no one would ever suspect that him and his own darling would be behind it, so it’s such a rush of adrenaline every time. blades with your initials and a heart carved into them were used to mangle your shared victims as an act of intimacy.

VEZALIUS BANDAGE ->

oughh. i been waiting for this one. he’ll teach you all about anatomy and how to efficiently dispose of someone as soon as he finds out your mutual hobby. he finds it so romantic that you’d do the same for the people around him as he would to you, leaving what seemed like the both of you as the only people in the world. it’s ever so romantic to him that you would do the same that he would for you in that you would quite literally kill for him willingly.

HEX HAYWIRE ->

i’ve changed my mind and decided he’s more psychological than physical with how he makes you his. he’ll gladly keep you on his lap while he sends messages to people on his devices, encouraging them to cut you off entirely and stop talking to you and you’ll do the same for him. he, like the others, sees it as a bonding activity and an excuse to show how much he loves you. if the both of you will encourage each other’s loved ones to ignore you, then he’ll be the only person in the world who mattered to you and vice versa. he stalks as a form of love and affection, keeping tabs on all your socials. if a guy or girl or anything in between compliments one of your pictures, he’ll see to it personally that they’re blocked and their accounts are terminated.

MELOCO KYORAN ->

when you kiss the smears of blood on her face and hands, she is in heaven. kiss and lick the blood off and she’ll do the same for you. if anyone had ever even dared to try fighting back, their blood would be used in a love letter written by her. meloco would gladly take a hot bath with you to wash off the blood on both of your bodies. her umbrella has a blade hidden in it just in case she needs to use it to ward away the people around you. sometimes she wears it openly on her person just to threaten. it’s a sign of pride to the girl, being able to show her weapon of choice openly shown just to send the message that she won’t hesitate to slice anyone who dares talk to you for too long.

VER VERMILLION ->

sweet boy. he finds your obsession attractive when it comes to romance. you’re absolutely obsessed with each other to the point where he’d kill anyone for you. kill his emotions and his own personality, a sense of his own “self” if you didn’t like his personality anymore. he’d remain ver vermillion, just with a vastly different personality and outlook on life. as long as you were happy, he could learn to be happy too. happy as his friends disappear and he’s left with only you, the thing he had learned to live for in the first place.

DOPPIO DROPSCYTHE ->

you and him would become known as the couple who would quite literally kill for each other. you’d be on the run together like the modern fucking bonnie and clyde, anyone who gets in your way won’t see the light again and the last thing they’ll see are the faces of the two lovers. maybe it’s a problem that doppio finds you extremely attractive when your cute face and body are splattered with an innocent’s blood, but he doesn’t care one bit as he licks the blood off your cheek (sorry this one got real weird just know i’m writing this super late at night so i’m a little unhinged)

KOTOKA TORAHIME ->

she’s a little too oblivious to realize you’re just like her unless you tell her outright. as soon as you tell her though, the girl’s love for you will increase tenfold. she didn’t even know it was possible to love you even more than she already did, but knowing you’re just as dedicated to her as she is to you makes her heart flutter. the knowledge that her friends and family are both literally and figuratively being cut from her by you will never fail to make her swoon and her heart flutter.