#pall rings

[kuber-internals]

Top Pall Ring Manufacturers in India

Kuber Precision Technology is recognized as one of the top manufacturers of Pall rings in India, known for its exceptional quality and innovative solutions. Their Pall rings are designed to optimize mass transfer in various industrial processes, ensuring improved efficiency and effectiveness. With a dedication to excellence and a focus on meeting customer requirements, Kuber Precision Technology is the preferred choice for many industries. Discover their extensive range of Pall rings and enhance your operational performance: Kuber Pall Rings.

[finepack2]

Pall Rings | Pall Rings Manufacturer and Supplier India - Finepac Structures

Pall rings well developed by BASF AG around 1940’s based on the raschig ring. They are still widely used in the industry owing to their good capacity characteristics at low- pressure drops. Punched windows on the outside facilitate better vapour flow and increase capacity as compared to raschig rings.

[scube00]

"Maximizing Efficiency and Performance: An Overview of Structured Packing in Chemical Separation Processes"

Structured packing refers to a type of column packing used in chemical engineering and process plants for distillation, absorption and other separation processes. It is composed of a series of interconnected and uniform metal sheets or mesh that are stacked in a specific arrangement to provide a large surface area for the fluid to interact with.

Structured packings offer several advantages over traditional random packings. These include:

Increased efficiency: The uniform and interconnected structure of structured packings enhances the fluid distribution and reduces channeling, leading to increased process efficiency.

Lower pressure drop: The lower resistance to fluid flow results in a lower pressure drop, reducing energy consumption and costs.

Higher capacity: The increased surface area of structured packings leads to a higher capacity, allowing for larger-scale operations.

Improved performance: Structured packings have a greater resistance to fouling, leading to improved performance and longer life compared to random packings.

SCube is a type of structured packing made of stainless steel and designed for use in high-pressure and high-temperature applications. It has a unique corrugated design that provides increased surface area and improved fluid distribution, resulting in improved process efficiency and capacity. Additionally, its stainless-steel construction provides enhanced resistance to corrosion, making it ideal for use in harsh chemical and process environments.

In conclusion, structured packing is a highly efficient and effective type of column packing for chemical separation processes. SCube, as a type of structured packing, offers additional benefits in terms of performance, capacity and durability, making it a popular choice for demanding industrial applications. Also Visit - Scube for more.

[s3dist]

What is Pall Ring Packing and How Is It Used in Process Plants?

Pall Rings are the similar Packing as Raschig Rings with windows and/or fingers only in addition to it. The development of Pall Rings was a huge replacement in random packing segment. By punching tabs in the wall of the ring, it created internal drip points which drastically increases capacity and efficiency by more than 50% over the Raschig Ring Packing. Like the Raschig Ring Packing, Pall Rings are characterized by having the same height as its diameter. Pall Rings are often used in absorption and distillation services.

They are still widely used in the industry owing to their performance with good capacity characteristics at low- pressure drops. This adjustment provides a significant performance increase, resulting in an improvement of the capacity and efficiency.

Pall rings also has been divided as metallic and plastic segment as per their application. Metallic Pall rings are made from heat resistant and chemical corrosion resistant plastic. That’s why, metallic type pall rings are mostly used in distillation columns, reaction towers, quench towers and other vessels. Metal pall ring is commonly applied to all sorts of decarbonization and system of synthetic ammonia. Pall rings can be used for mass transfer operations that often includes stripping, gas scrubbing, de-aeration, biological filtration, degassing, and mechanical filtration.

How Pall Rings are used in Process?

1. Metallic Pall Rings -

As we know, the design of the pall ring is an inspired from the Raschig ring design. The cylindrical dimensions are quite similar; however, the metal pall ring has two rows of punched to form drips and fingers facilitating vapor flow. This adjustment provides a significant performance increase, resulting in an improvement of the capacity and efficiency. In addition, this adjusted design leads to overall reduction of the pressure drop throughout the column. 

The metal pall rings are mechanically robust and provided by us in various sizes and in different types of material which can be stand at specific application. We are also provider and leading exporter of ceramic and plastic pall rings. Contact us to get solution for your mass transfer challenge. 

Applications -

· Steam stripping

· H2S, NH3 & SO2, CO2Gasses absorption and stripping

· Gas washing

· Degassing

· Air pollution control scrubbers

Benefits -

· Good liquid/gas distribution and high mass transfer efficiency

· Compatible with High temperature applications

· Offers low pressure drop and mechanically robust

· High resistance to fouling

· Various materials available

2. Plastic Pall Rings -

The plastic pall ring is one of random packing product offered by us. For over fifteen years, our random packing is effectively used to improve a tower’s operation and performance as well. The pall ring is considered world’s most common random packing type.

Plastic pall rings are less sensitive to liquid distribution quality and having higher liquid hold-up and residence time in comparison to other packing segment. Although the plastic pall rings do not have “high performance” characteristics, they have been used extensively and therefore their performance is widely known. Like saddles, the plastic pall rings have become a standard for many designers and processes.

 The rings are also used to replace metal pall rings in applications which are in need of the excellent corrosion resistance of the plastic material. Plastic materials for the production of tower packing have recently been widely used in many application fields which formerly were restricted to metals, special alloys and ceramic materials only where Plastic pall rings stands out. The application fields of the individual plastic materials are determined by chemical processes, resistance, temperature stability and mechanical strength.

Applications -

Water treatment

Drinking water applications

CO2, SO2, HCI and HF absorption or stripping

Chlorine absorption in water or caustic

Odour control

Benefits -

Good liquid/gas distribution and high mass transfer efficiency

High temperature applications

Mechanically robust, lesser probability of breakage

High resistance to fouling

Multiple materials available 

S-Cube Mass Transfer Pvt. Ltd.

S-Cube Mass Transfer Pvt. Ltd. is leader manufacturer, provider and exporter of not only pall ring, but also Column internals, Distillation skids, and Complete Turnkey Solutions globally with our specialized exclusively tower packing and related products.

Further information required? Visit to website https://s3dist.in/

[skjgroups]

SKJ Group are one of the leading manufacturers of high-tech ceramic materials and tower packings. We provide high-quality services and products to meet all of our customers' needs. We have been working for two years and are intensely focused on specializing in the production of high-quality products. These products are made in our cutting-edge manufacturing facility with quality-controlled materials sourced from reputable vendors. We ensure prompt delivery of our product range to our client's thanks to our extensive regional distribution network. These are our newly launched products.

[fushitoru]

chapter 4: the game a bridgerton!au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, SUGGESTIVE, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly

chapter summary: satoru has some revelations about you. both you and satoru share some quite...happening days at the manor, including an eventful game of pall mall. (4.9k)

prev. the manor | next. soon!

general masterlist | series masterlist

a/n WARNING this chapter is suggestive. like always minors dni. not edited at all bc im sick of this chapter lol (like always i fear). see u at the bottom ;)

Dearest reader, 

It has come to the attention of This Author that Miss Itadori, the undeniable diamond of the season, has made her appearance at Gojo Manor a full week ahead of the rest of the ton. Such early arrival can only provoke speculation: might the tender buds of affection be blossoming in the Kentish countryside? Shall we soon witness Miss Itadori departing with more than just fond memories, perhaps even a ring upon her finger? These are the very questions now fluttering through the minds of young ladies and their ever-watchful mamas, who may find their carefully laid plans to ensnare Lord Gojo dashed before the house party has even begun.

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

Gojo leaned back in his chair, fingers absentmindedly drumming on the armrest as he watched you fumble with the library door. The soft fabric of your nightgown slipped off your shoulder, a glimpse of bare skin catching in the dim light⸺something not lost to Gojo’s eyes as he watched your figure disappear angrily. Your face was flushed, eyes wide and uncertain. Despite the flurry of emotions playing across your features, what struck him most was the way your hands trembled as you fought to maintain composure.

His lips pressed into a thin line as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. You had come here⸺of all places⸺into his sanctuary, and for what? A part of him couldn’t reconcile the image of you sneaking into the library in the dead of night with the proper, composed lady you portrayed during the day. The whole encounter felt surreal, leaving a knot of confusion coiled tightly in his chest.

His gaze lingered on the empty doorway after you vanished, a strange hollowness settling in his chest. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to shake off the feeling, but it clung to him like the shadows of the room. His fingers tightened around the armrest, knuckles whitening as if he could grasp onto something concrete⸺something that made sense. But all he was left with was the lingering echo of your footsteps in the hallway and the ghost of your flushed face in his mind.

He rubbed a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. His mind kept returning to the way your nightgown had slipped from your shoulder as you fumbled with the door. The pale fabric had slid down so effortlessly, exposing the curve of your bare skin. It wasn’t scandalous, not really⸺not enough to warrant the way his thoughts kept circling back to it. And yet, he couldn’t shake the image, the unexpected flash of vulnerability. The sight of it stirred something in him, a quiet confusion that unsettled his usual composure.

What was it that made him notice? Gojo’s brow furrowed as he considered it, his fingers absently drumming on the armrest of his chair. He had witnessed plenty of women in far less modest circumstances (most of them courtesy of his friends, who forced him to go to ridiculous events), and yet, this felt different. There was something about the way you had tried to maintain your dignity, the way you had fought to compose yourself even as your face flushed and your nightgown betrayed you. It was... distracting.

The memory of your fearful expression gnawed at him. He had expected haughty arrogance or calculated charm, not genuine fear. You weren’t like the people who usually surrounded him, playing their part in society's grand performance, all vying for his attention. There was an intelligence in your eyes, a spark that made him feel something unsettlingly close to admiration.

He couldn’t make sense of it. Why did it matter that you were different? Why did he find himself enjoying your company, despite the fact that you seemed entirely uninterested in his? He drummed his fingers against the armrest, contemplating the possibility of pursuing you for the rest of the season⸺though he quickly dismissed the thought. You were uncooperative, difficult. A chase after you would be nothing short of exhausting. 

And yet...

His attention shifted back to the desk, to the scattered papers you had left behind. Gojo reached for them, his fingers brushing lightly against the edge of the parchment as though handling something fragile. The numbers and diagrams were a mess of scribbled notes, and yet, they held a strange familiarity. His brow furrowed as he traced the lines with his eyes, piecing together the fragmented calculations. Then, like a puzzle falling into place, it clicked.

Venus. Of all things, you had been calculating the size of Venus.

Gojo’s hand froze midair, hovering over the papers. He blinked, his breath catching in his throat. He had assumed⸺no, expected⸺you to be reading some frivolous romance, a book about love and passion, something fitting for a young lady sneaking into a library. But instead, you were working on complex celestial calculations.

He had pegged you for a typical young lady of the ton⸺someone more interested in the latest gossip or the affections of suitors than in the stars. It annoyed him, more than he cared to admit, that he had been wrong.

Gojo set the paper down, his hand resting on the edge of the desk as he leaned back in his chair. The flicker of irritation that sparked in his chest was unfamiliar, unsettling even. It wasn’t just that you had surprised him⸺plenty of people had done that before. No, it was the fact that he had misjudged you so completely. He prided himself on being perceptive, on seeing through people’s masks with ease. Yet here you were, slipping past his assumptions with nothing more than a few scribbled notes and a fleeting presence.

His gaze dropped to the floor, and for the first time in a long while, he felt uncertain. Gojo wasn’t used to feeling this way⸺unsettled, annoyed, and a little too curious for his own good. He tapped the papers lightly, lost in thought. What did it mean that you had gotten under his skin like this? That he found himself wanting to unravel the mystery of you, to see what lay beneath the surface of your carefully constructed facade?

A sigh escaped his lips, low and quiet. His hand finally left the papers, and he leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as if it held answers he couldn’t quite grasp. The world around him was filled with people who either fawned over his charms or remained blissfully unaware of his true nature. But you? You saw right through him. You challenged him, unsettled him, made him question things he had never thought to question before.

With a final glance at the empty doorway, Satoru leaned forward again, ready to dive back into his work. But this time, his thoughts weren’t solely on his family’s ledgers. They were on you⸺and the undeniable pull that had started to form between you.

And inevitably, because Satoru is distracted, he lets the lull of sleep sneak up on him, swathing him in its deep, heavy blanket.

No, Satoru hears himself think. You’re not supposed to be here.

You’re sitting on his bed, somehow made it up to his chambers. A part of Satoru comprehends⸺in all his sleep-deprived glory⸺that he is definitely dreaming, but there’s an overwhelmingly stubborn part of him that dominates his entire consciousness, refusing to accept the fact. 

You’re leaning on your elbow, resting on your side on the foot of his bed. Part of him wants to believe that you are really here, sheer nightgown that seems to get shorter and shorter⸺slipping up your thighs⸺every time his consciousness paints an image of you. The sheer material drapes over your figure, accentuating the gentle curve of your waist and the fullness of your hips, painting a picture that torments him.

“My lord,” you whisper. 

It’s just his title, but your voice carries a sweetness it never holds in reality, dripping with an unfamiliar softness that makes Satoru’s heart lurch. Panic takes root, and he scrambles back, trying to distance himself from the fantasy in front of him. His back slams against the headboard as he fights to resist⸺not just you, but the part of himself that aches to abandon all notions of honor. That part of him that craves to do things to you that are anything but honorable.

Then, he notices your smile. It’s not the polite, practiced smile you show at balls or to suitors vying for your attention. This one is sincere, warm⸺a smile that speaks of affection, the kind you’ve never shown him before.

Like you are in love. 

And you are not helping Satoru in his restraint because you position yourself, crawling like a predator, straddling his lap. Satoru is suddenly breathing too fast, his chest tightening with the weight of desire and disbelief.

Your lips are at his ear. Your lips are so soft. “Touch me,” you say, trailing your lips down feather light across his jaw. 

Right now, you are in love. With him. You are his, and Satoru desperately does not want to fight it. 

He does not want to. 

Your hands start trailing down his torso, and now he registers that he is simply wearing a linen shirt and underwear because you are tracing the edge of his underwear, touching his inner thighs, getting so, so impossibly close to⸺

“No,” he rasps, squeezing his eyes shut. “I am a man of honor.”

But that’s a lie. One that Satoru clings to, because admitting the truth would shatter everything he’s built. His identity, his values⸺they all rest on the lie he’s desperately trying to hold onto.

What he really wants is nothing between you and him.

He wants that flimsy nightgown gone, the one that barely covers your thighs and what lies between them. He wants to keep the candlelight burning so he can see every inch of you, learn every detail of your body. He wants to slip off your chemise and explore the softness of your skin, trace the swell of your breasts, the dip of your hips, and taste the sweetness of your lips.

Satoru can’t focus on anything except the fact you are utterly, scandalously close to him, sitting on his lap and staring at him as if you love him. 

And his treacherous heart wants to abandon duty, honor, the dukedom, the royal family⸺everything⸺and simply take you. To feel the weight of you pressed against him, wrapped around him.

But just as his hands move to cup your face, you start giggling. “No, you are not.”

Satoru blinks, confused.

You laugh again, light and teasing. “You are no man of honor.”

And suddenly, your laughter echoes in his mind, filling the room with its taunting melody. It etches itself into his thoughts, leaving an indelible mark.

“You are a coward.”

You entered the drawing room to break your fast, Choso by your side, and immediately locked eyes with Gojo, who was already seated at the table with his mother. He quickly looked away, focusing on the toast he was slathering with an ungodly amount of jam.

As you moved to sit at the table with Choso, you couldn't help but study him. Gojo appeared more disheveled than usual, perhaps a bit fatigued, though any sign of vulnerability quickly vanished when your mother spoke.

“Lord Gojo, it is a fine morning, is it not?” she inquired with her usual warmth.

Gojo smiled, leaning back in his chair with his characteristic nonchalance. “Indeed, Lady Itadori, especially as I am blessed with such lovely company as yourself and your daughter.” His eyes flickered toward you, an arrogant glint in them before they shifted back to your mother.

You and Choso exchanged exasperated glances. 

Your mother chuckled, clearly charmed. “Oh, my lord, you flatter me. Tell me, what do you favor for breakfast? I am always curious to hear of others' preferences.”

“Clearly, it is toast drowned in enough jam to satisfy an army,” you muttered under your breath, delicately spreading butter onto your own toast.

Gojo’s eyes flashed, and he couldn’t resist a retort. “At least I do not indulge in something as dull as butter.”

You stiffened. “Butter is far superior to such overwhelming sweetness. Jam annihilates the taste of the toast itself, rendering it pointless.”

“And butter,” he shot back, “adds nothing but blandness. It is unremarkable, simple, and tasteless.”

A surge of heat rose to your face, ready to deliver another sharp remark, but before you could respond, Duchess Gojo’s lilting laughter filled the room. “Oh, my dears, what a lively couple you make!” Her tone was teasing, her eyes alight with amusement. “Such spirited conversation at breakfast⸺how delightful!”

Both you and Gojo stiffened, your faces flushing, though whether it was from irritation or something else entirely, you couldn’t say. You hastily turned your attention back to your toast, while Gojo busied himself with his tea.

Duchess Gojo clapped her hands together lightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Since we are all in such a lively mood this morning, I do believe a game of pall-mall is in order once breakfast is through. The garden is in full bloom, and the weather is perfect for it.”

Your mother smiled graciously. “A wonderful idea, Duchess. It has been some time since we last enjoyed a game.”

“Indeed,” the Duchess agreed. “And I daresay a little friendly competition will do us all good. What do you say, Lord Gojo?” She turned to her son with a knowing look. “I trust you are up for the challenge?”

Gojo leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “I never shy away from a challenge, Mother. But do be warned, I have no intention of losing.”

“Confidence is a virtue,” you remarked dryly, reaching for your teacup, “but do not let it cloud your judgment. Pall-mall requires more than mere bravado.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. “Ah, a challenge from you as well. This shall be an interesting morning indeed.”

“Let us hope your skills in the garden match your flair for words, my lord,” you retorted, your tone light (for the sake of preventing your mother a heart attack) but your gaze to Gojo sharp. 

Duchess Gojo’s laughter rang out once more, her eyes gleaming with delight. “Oh, this will be most entertaining! Come now, let us finish our breakfast, and then we shall see who emerges victorious on the field.”

You took a sip of your tea, pointedly ignoring the way Gojo’s gaze lingered on you as you did so. The day had barely begun, and already, you felt the familiar tension of being in his presence. But if there was one thing you knew, it was that you wouldn’t back down from a challenge⸺whether at the breakfast table or in the garden.

Duchess Gojo clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Now, we must let our diamond choose first. After all, she is the only lady participating today.”

You smiled warmly at her, a polite nod of appreciation. Gojo, however, frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced between you and the bag of mallets. “Are we not simply setting her up for victory?”

Turning to him with an innocent smile, you crossed your arms. “What’s that, my lord? Are you unable, as a man, to deal with the loss of your chosen mallet? I know some men depend heavily on certain familiars to win.”

Gojo held your gaze for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a dismissive shrug, he looked away. “Choose whatever you want. I will be sure to defeat you regardless.”

Duchess Gojo placed a warm hand on your back, encouraging you forward. “That’s the spirit, my son. Now, Miss Itadori, do choose which one you fancy.”

You approached the bag of mallets, your eyes scanning over the selection. They varied in subtle shapes and sizes, each one seemingly tailored for a different style of play. Your gaze settled on a mallet slightly larger than the others, painted a light blue shade. Its weight and shape seemed particularly advantageous for aim and control—perfect for directing the ball with precision.

As you picked it up, Gojo’s expression darkened, a hint of irritation flickering in his eyes. “Of course, she chooses the best one,” he muttered under his breath.

“Well,” Duchess Gojo crossed her arms. “I suppose it’s only fair that you all let the lady go first.” She turned to you, nodding. “I will go join your mother for tea inside, my dear.” Winking, she adds, “Show these boys how real ladies do it.”

As the duchess took her leave, Choso, always the supportive brother, leaned over to you with a small smile. “Excellent choice, sister. Show them how it’s done.”

You gave him a grateful nod and positioned yourself for your turn. With a graceful swing, you sent the ball rolling smoothly across the lawn. Choso clapped in approval, but when you looked up, Gojo and Yuji were both glowering at you from the sidelines.

Gojo’s lips curled into a smirk, clearly not amused by your success. “Beginner’s luck,” he commented dryly. Yuji could only nod in mindless agreement to Gojo, and you graced him with a glower. Traitor.

Now it was Gojo’s turn. He stepped forward with confident ease, positioning himself with the mallet as though he had been doing this his entire life. With a swift, practiced swing, his ball shot forward and struck a target dead center. Yuji’s eyes sparkled with admiration, practically beaming at Gojo’s skill.

Choso and you exchanged petulant glances, unimpressed by Gojo’s display. But Yuji’s excitement only grew, and he couldn’t resist praising his mentor. “Incredible, my lord! You never miss!”

Choso’s turn came next. With a focused look, he lined up his shot and knocked Gojo’s ball right out of position, sending it tumbling off course into a forested area. Gojo let out a forced laugh, masking his irritation as best as he could, and you clapped and let out a small, petty giggle. “Good shot, brother! I fear Lord Gojo will have to travel much distance to retrieve and get it on course.”

You would come to bite your words.

When it was Yuji’s turn, he aimed with all his might and sent your ball flying out of position. You gasped in outrage, turning to him with narrowed eyes. “Oh, you will pay for this.”. 

Gojo, on the other hand, gave Yuji a hearty pat on the back, beaming with pride. “Well done, Yuji. Well done.”

It was now your turn, and you stomped your way towards the forested area where you and Gojo’s balls had traveled towards. Soon enough, Gojo was following after you.

The path was shaded by trees, and the coolness of the forest was a welcome relief from the heat of the sun. You could help but give each other glares until you finally broke the silence.

 “How dare you bewitch my brother into turning against me?” you accused him, stepping over a stray root.

Gojo rolled his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips. “It appears that Yuji’s blood is indeed not thicker than water,” 

 “Or maybe⸺just maybe⸺your charm isn’t as infallible as you think.”

Keeping pace beside you, Gojo scoffed. “And yet, here you are, still engaged in conversation with me. I must be doing something right.”

You shoot him an angry sideways glance. “I’m only here because my ball is, unfortunately, in the same direction as yours. Nothing more.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Ah, so it’s mere coincidence that fate keeps pulling us together.”

“More like unfortunate circumstance.”

The two of you continued bickering as you searched for your wayward balls. The back-and-forth banter echoed through the forest, neither of you willing to back down.

Finally, you spotted them⸺your ball and Gojo’s⸺resting precariously on top of a narrow stream of water. You both halted, glancing at each other, and then, without a word, you raced forward.

Gojo reached the water’s edge first, but you weren’t far behind. Neither of you hesitated as you waded into the shallow stream, your focus entirely on retrieving your respective balls. The bottoms of your clothes became soaked in the cool water, but neither of you paid it any mind, too busy grappling to reach your goals first.

Just as you managed to scoop up your ball, your dress snagged on something in the water. You stumbled forward, colliding directly into Gojo, who had just retrieved his own. The sudden impact sent both of you toppling into the water.

You landed squarely on top of him, the shock of the fall leaving you momentarily dazed. Gojo blinked up at you, his breath catching as his gaze dropped to your now-dampened bodice, honing in on your bosom. For a moment, his usually sharp and calculating eyes softened, confusion flickering across his face as if he didn’t quite understand the effect you were having on him.

You scrambled to find your words, unsure of what to say. “I didn’t mean to⸺”

Before you could finish, Gojo gently grasped your shoulders and helped you off of him. He stood up first, his expression uncharacteristically serious as he brushed off his wet clothing and offered you a hand. You took it, steadying yourself as you rose to your feet.

Gojo swallowed hard, clearly at a loss for words. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then quickly closed it, shaking his head. “I must go,” he muttered,.

Without another word, he turned and left, leaving you standing there in the stream, confused and flustered as you watched him disappear into the trees.

“I am not impressed.” Nobara impassively stares you down with a glower.

You fluttered your fan, maintaining a delicate air of mock innocence. “Whatever do you mean, my dear friend?”

The two of you sat at a small table on the terrace, its stone surface warm from the midday sun. Before you, the expansive field served as Gojo’s personal training ground, scattered with targets and archery equipment. Gojo and his protégé, Yuji, had clearly been at it for hours, their bare skin glistening with sweat under the relentless sun. They moved with a practiced ease, their focus entirely on the task at hand.

Gojo was currently demonstrating a particular stance to Yuji, his voice carrying faintly over the terrace as he corrected the younger man’s posture and grip. Yuji, ever the diligent student, watched him with an intensity that bordered on awe. You couldn’t help but reflect that his expression now⸺determined and assured⸺contrasted much with his encounter with you at the game. 

Nobara’s eyes narrowed as she regarded the scene. “Why are we here?” she asked flatly, her gaze lingering on the two men.

You turned to her with a smile, fluttering your fan with exaggerated elegance. “Why, to record in my journal, of course. One must capture the beauty of Mother Nature when it presents itself so generously from this terrace.”

Her expression remained unimpressed. “Is it truly Mother Nature that has captivated you, or Lord Gojo’s bare skin?” She glanced down at your unopened journal, its quill resting untouched beside it. “And how much progress have you made in this recording of yours?”

You couldn’t suppress a laugh, caught in your own half-hearted excuse. “Well, even you cannot deny that he presents a rather fine figure, can you? And I will get to my writing in due time. Inspiration must first strike, after all.”

Nobara sighed, folding her arms across her chest. “I cannot fathom how you find pleasure in looking upon a man who has caused you so much distress. Many times, in fact.”

You glanced back toward the field, watching as Gojo effortlessly pulled back his bowstring, the muscles in his back rippling with the movement. His form was impeccable, each action a demonstration of his skill and strength. Yuji, in contrast, struggled to replicate the motion with as much ease and accuracy, though his determination was evident.

"He’s clearly enjoying himself," you commented dryly, turning your attention back to Nobara. "Torturing me, that is. I might as well make due of my harrowing and demeaning stay here and enjoy some aspects of Gojo. I swear, he delights in the fact that I’m stuck here."

Nobara’s eyes narrowed, and she snorted. "Oh, absolutely. Men like him don’t get much amusement in life unless it involves making someone else miserable."

You shook your head, remembering the library encounter all too vividly. Gojo had seemed genuinely surprised to find you there, and yet he had taken to taunting you with his usual smugness. That infernal smirk of his had been etched into your memory.

"I almost wonder," you mused, "if he was actually shocked to find me in the library. Perhaps I caught him off guard for once."

Nobara raised an eyebrow. "What were you doing? Looking for a book on how to survive insufferable dukes?"

You chuckled softly. "No, I was reading about Venus, actually. But Gojo⸺he assumed I was indulging in some silly romance. Imagine his surprise when he realized I was working on calculations instead."

Nobara’s lips twitched upward in amusement, but before she could respond, a loud thud! echoed across the terrace. Both of you looked down just in time to see Gojo's arrow hit the target dead center.

You rolled your eyes. Of course, he would show off. That insufferable man never missed an opportunity to flaunt his skills. Yuji, predictably, looked like he was about to faint from admiration.

Gojo notched another arrow, his back muscles rippling as he drew it back with practiced ease. His abs tightened with the effort, and though you told yourself you were merely observing his technique, your gaze lingered a moment longer than necessary. The tautness of his form was, undeniably, impressive.

“It is a shame,” Nobara remarked, her voice breaking through your thoughts. “He does present a rather fine figure. If only his character matched his appearance.”

You blinked, realizing that your gaze had lingered on him for far too long. “What?”

Nobara glanced at you, her expression half-amused, half-pitying. “I merely observe that if his manners were as well-formed as his physique, he might be a most agreeable companion.”

You opened your fan again, waving it lightly in front of your face. “Perhaps. But we both know that appearances can be deceiving.”

Nobara’s expression turned serious as she looked at you. “You must find yourself a husband who is both well-formed and well-mannered, my dear. Else I shall be forced to gouge out my eyes every time I am called to attend on you.”

You sighed dramatically, closing your fan with a soft snap. “Whatever you say, Nobara.”

Yet, even as you dismissed her words, your gaze drifted back to the field. Gojo was a puzzle, indeed. And whether you liked it or not, he had captured more of your attention than you were willing to admit.

Satoru is sweaty and hot, and therefore he must rush back to take a cold bath. 

The weather is quite warm, he must admit to himself. Teaching Yuji had been nothing sort of pleasurable; the boy’s physical prowess was quite impressive, and he learned things very, very fast. If Yuji were to keep learning and working on his skill, he would easily be up to Gojo’s level or even surpass him. 

As he climbs up the stairs to the terrace, he wipes his brow, which has budded with sweat. When he crosses a table that overlooks the field, he notices a book. His mother and him wouldn’t expose any books like this⸺a fine and intricate design covering the top⸺to the harsh, humid weather, so he picks up the book, frowning.

Frowning, he picked it up, curiosity getting the better of him. The book felt unfamiliar in his hands, and as he opened it, the words within seemed to swim before his eyes. Annoyed, he rubbed the sweat from his forehead and squinted, finally making out the fine, neat handwriting on the page.

I confess, there is something intoxicating about the notion that women might be more than what society has so neatly confined us to be. Is it truly so outlandish to consider that we, too, possess minds capable of great thought and spirits yearning for freedom?

Satoru's eyes widened, and a flicker of intrigue sparked within him. He flipped to the next page, where the writing grew messier, more hurried.

Indeed, God truly blesses the wrong soldiers with features such as his. However, I take pride in being one of His strongest for I possess the fortitude to resist the temptation of ending Gojo’s miserable existence myself.

His eyes widened. If he had been intrigued before, now he was thoroughly captivated. This had to be you. His heart began to beat faster as he quickly turned to another page, where the ink was still fresh, and a pressed leaf lay nestled between the pages.

If I were to base my choice of husband solely on physical appearance, I must confess that Lord Gojo would be a most compelling candidate. However, to consider him without regard to his character would be a grave disservice to myself and to dear Nobara, who would bear the consequences of such a choice daily.

I hold out hope for a suitor with a similar strength of physique, one whose form displays power and grace, much like Gojo. His muscles, so clearly defined, speak of formidable strength and control—his back rippling with every pull of the bowstring, his breath labored as he steadies himself.

Alas, such attributes, though appealing, are not enough…

His fingers hovered over the delicate page, the words sinking in. A part of him wanted to laugh at your sharpness, your refusal to fall prey to his charms, but another part⸺one that kept resurfacing and resurfacing against his will, showing up even in his slumber⸺felt something else entirely.

…What a pity, indeed.

prev. the manor | next. soon!

general masterlist | series masterlist

a/n i feel like the only important plot point in this chapter is that gojo is a boobs guy

sorry if this chapter was a little icky :( i prefered publishing this than having to subject my dear beta reader to having to edit this mess or even me having to think about it further. i will rest so that the next chapter is better <3 (lots of fluffy moments to come in the next one)

gojo when you spawned in his bedroom

will finally treat myself to answering asks after I wake up since i'm done with this dreadfull chapter <333 jesus it's 3am

comment, reblog, and send in an ask to let me know ur thots :3 memes are also appreciated <3

TAGLIST

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[cuartoretorno]

El Señor de los Anillos: los Anillos de Poder (The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power) 2022

es una serie de televisión inspirada en el universo de las obras de J. R. R. Tolkien, desarrollada por J.D. Payne y Patrick McKay para el servicio de streaming Prime Video, y ambientada en la Segunda Edad de la Tierra Media, antes de los acontecimientos de la novela y las películas de la trilogía de El Señor de los Anillos. Producida por Amazon Studios, en colaboración con Tolkien Estate and Trust, Harper Collins y New Line Cinema, contó con la dirección de Juan Antonio Bayona (dos episodios), Wayne Yip (cuatro episodios) y Charlotte Brändström (dos episodios) en su primera temporada.

[skjgroup]

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We are highly reputed in the market for providing quality products at affordable prices. Our products are highly appreciated by our customers owing to their durability and easy maintenance. Our company is established with an objective of providing quality products at affordable prices. Our products have been tried and tested and have been approved by our customers too. We believe in providing excellent products at affordable prices which makes us one of the best PP PALL RING Manufacturer in india

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[masstransfertechnology]

High-Speed Axial Cyclones – Finepac Structure

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[reading-in-velaris]

Anthony Bridgerton

Forbidden Desires (smut) by @d-targaryenshoe

Cinderella Story 2 3 by @ladysharmaa

There's Still Time by @thegettingbyp2

Intentions by @thegettingbyp2

Caught by @thegettingbyp2

A Helping Hand by @thegettingbyp2

Scratch my Head, Please by @thegettingbyp2

Not so Bad by @thegettingbyp2

Someone Who Wasn't a Maid 2 by @thegettingbyp2

Yes, my lord? by @kylopen

Kinktober: Public Sex by @fayes-fics

Melt Away by @healmydesires

Take Your Hatred Out On Me (smut) by @leviathanspain

You Made Me by @margowritesthings

A Beneficial Arrangement by @fayes-fics

Smut-tember: Spanking by @fandom-puff

Awakening by @fayes-fics

Colin Bridgerton

A Moment Away by @pandorasfavorite

No Ring? No Problem by @agxxb

The Courting Season by @shy-taylorsversion

Secluded (smut) by @torturedbridgertonsdept

Enjoyment (smut) by @d4yl1ghts

Relentless (smut) by @torturedbridgertonsdept

Colin Bridgerton x reader smut by @natti-ice

Innocence (smut) by @mothdruid

Benedict Bridgerton

Simon Basset

Infatuation by @targaryenluvs

New Desires by @d4yl1ghts

Simon x reader smut by @fandom-puff

Smut-tember: Thigh Riding by @fandom-puff

Anthony Bridgerton x reader x Kate Sharma

Routine by @thebadgerclan

What You Do to Me by @thebadgerclan

Pall Mall by @thebadgerclan

Doubt by @thebadgerclan

Child/Sister!Reader

Anthony Bridgerton x Daughter!reader by @alyswritings

Kate Sharma x Stepdaughter!reader by @alyswritings

Anthony Bridgerton x daughter!reader + Kate Sharma x stepdaughter!reader by @alyswritings

Anthony Bridgerton x daughter!reader by @alyswritings

Babies and Feminism by @alyswritings

Adult Drink by @alyswritings

Two Is Better Than One by @weirdmorefics

Papa's Girl by @weirdmorefics

Tag Your It (Eloise Twin!reader) by @weirdmorefics

This Could Work by @weirdmorefics

[kuber-internals]

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[finepack2]

Unlocking the power of the Distillation Column- Finepac

Finepac Structures offers distillation column, unit and equipment techniques. Distillation is the most widely used separation technique in chemical and gas processing field.

[merlieve]

Can you write a prince friedrich x brigerton! reader on how he would court you

say yes to heaven :: prince friedrich

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞, 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬, 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭!

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[ Note: this was INSANELY late for no reason at all but i’m posting this as a soft launch for my future fics that are upcoming :> but as of now requests are closed and i won’t respond to any new requests. ]

When Friedrich and [Name] came across each other, it had to have been unexpected. During Lady Trowbridge’s ball, he had been looking for Daphne ever since she excused herself from him, yet, he had met her.

[Name] was alarmed that the prince had found her outside, standing on the stone porch, taking in the serene beauty of the gardens stretched out before her. Once they locked eyes, from that moment on, Friedrich knew she had him wrapped around his finger.

Telling Daphne had to be the scariest, [Name] was concerned about how her sister would react when she brought it up, but Daphne quickly shut her down and celebrated her sister finding a possible suitor.

Expect the princess treatment because, in his eyes, she will be his future princess.

He would send her loads of large bouquets of her favourite flowers, filling up their drawing room with adornment of fresh posies. Whenever they see each other, Friedrich gifts her necklaces, bracelets, and hopefully a ring in the near future.

Hyacinth was beyond over the moon when she found out her older sister was being courted by a prince! She wanted to know everything that happened.

During balls, when ladies attempt to get his attention, Friedrich’s eyes would only look for [Name], as would she.

[Name] had to look flawless at all times, the ton was keeping an eye on her every move, waiting for her to make a mistake. Jealous and curious eyes follow [Name], everywhere, especially Cressida Cowper, who had feigned swoon in front of him.

“He lost Daphne to the Duke, that is why he’s pursuing her sister instead,”

Friedrich would take [Name] to the Kew Palace to either promenade around the gardens or play Pall Mall

Encountering the Queen was the most anxiety-ridden situation [Name] had to endure. It was true that Queen Charlotte did not like [Name] at first, she was not her diamond of the season! Yet, she knew how persistent her nephew was, so she took what she could get.

Regardless if Friedrich was a prince or not, Anthony, Benedict and Colin were overprotective of their little sister, so when Friedrich dropped by, he had to face their so-called ‘intimidating look’.

Violet told Gregory and Hyacinth to be on their best behaviour that day or else they won’t get any frozen dessert, but for extra measures, she told Anthony to not scare off Friedrich.

After courting for a month, Friedrich thought it would be best to call you his princess once and for all.

[d-targaryenshoe]

Event Of Games - Benedict Bridgerton

Word Count: 1673

Summary: When one plays a game with their family, their children are rather happy to join, are they not? 

The sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the lush grounds of Aubrey Hall, the Bridgerton family estate.

Summer was in full swing, and the garden was abuzz with the laughter and chatter of the Bridgerton clan.

The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers, and the vibrant green of the lawns stretched out, a perfect stage for the day’s entertainment, a game of Pall Mall.

Benedict Bridgerton, the artistic and ever-charming second son, stood beside you.

You had been married for several years, and your bond had only grown stronger with time.

Today, you were preparing to engage in one of your favorite pastimes.

Pall Mall, a game known for its competitive spirit and the potential for light-hearted mischief, had been a staple of your gatherings for as long as anyone could remember.

Your children, however, had never played before.

As Benedict adjusted the mallet in his hands, his eyes sparkled with the thrill of introducing them to the game.

Your eldest, Samuel, a boy of eight with his father's dark hair and your lively eyes, bounced on the balls of his feet, his excitement barely contained.

Beside him stood seven-year-old Eliza, her hair shimmering in the sunlight.

She clutched a mallet that was nearly as tall as she was, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“Papa, when do we start?” Samuel asked, his voice ringing with eagerness.

Benedict chuckled, ruffling his son's hair. “Patience, my boy. First, we need to make sure everyone knows the rules.”

You were standing beside Benedict with an affectionate smile. “And that means everyone. No sneaky maneuvers, Benedict.”

Benedict feigned innocence, placing a hand over his heart. “Why, my dear, I would never.”

You arched an eyebrow, your expression skeptical but amused. “Of course not.”

As you spoke, the rest of the Bridgerton siblings began to gather.

Anthony, the eldest, was already striding across the lawn, his authoritative presence as commanding as ever.

Kate, followed, her eyes twinkling with the promise of competition.

Next came Colin, the third brother, his roguish grin a clear sign that he was ready for some fun.

As Penelope, walked beside him, her red hair catching the light as she whispered something that made him laugh.

Daphne, the eldest sister, arrived with her husband, Simon Basset, the Duke of Hastings.

Their children ran ahead, joining Samuel and Eliza, the new generation of Bridgertons blending seamlessly with the old.

Eloise, ever the independent spirit, sauntered over with her characteristic nonchalance, while Francesca joined.

Gregory and Hyacinth, the youngest of the Bridgerton siblings, were already by the makeshift Pall Mall course, inspecting the mallets and balls with a mixture of curiosity and mischief.

Gregory, in particular, had a glint in his eye that suggested he was already plotting his strategy.

Anthony clapped his hands together, drawing everyone’s attention. “All right, everyone. Gather round. It’s time for a quick refresher on the rules.”

You all formed a loose circle, the children pushing their way to the front to get a better view.

“First and foremost,” Anthony began, “Pall Mall is about skill, precision, and a healthy dose of cunning.”

“Not to mention the occasional bit of sabotage,” Colin interjected with a wink.

Penelope nudged him playfully. “No sabotaging the children, Colin.”

Anthony continued, ignoring his brother’s interruption. “The objective is simple, to get your ball through the wickets and to the final stake with as few strokes as possible.”

You took over, addressing the children. “You’ll each take turns hitting your ball with the mallet. The trick is to aim carefully and not use too much force.”

“Or too little,” Benedict added. “You don’t want your ball to stop short.”

Eliza raised her hand, her brow furrowed in concentration. “What if someone’s ball is in the way?”

Kate grinned, her competitive spirit flaring. “Ah, that’s where the fun begins. You can use your ball to knock others out of the way.”

Samuel’s eyes lit up at the prospect. “You mean we can hit each other’s ball?”

“Yes, but within reason,” Daphne interjected, her tone motherly. “We don’t want any injuries.”

“Or broken mallets,” Simon added dryly.

With the rules explained, you all moved to the starting point.

The course was laid out across the lawn, with wickets placed at strategic intervals and the final stake positioned near a large oak tree at the far end.

Benedict and you took your positions at the front, ready to demonstrate the first strokes for your children.

“Watch closely,” Benedict said, positioning his ball. “It’s all about a smooth, controlled swing.”

He drew back the mallet and swung, sending the ball rolling smoothly through the first wicket.

You followed suit, your ball taking a slightly different angle but achieving the same result.

“Your turn, Samuel,” Benedict said, handing his son a mallet.

Samuel stepped up, his face a mask of determination.

He swung with a bit too much enthusiasm, and his ball careened off course, missing the wicket by a wide margin.

He looked up, crestfallen.

“It’s okay,” Benedict reassured him. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

Eliza was next.

She took a deep breath, her small hands gripping the mallet tightly. Her swing was more controlled, and while her ball didn’t go through the wicket, it was closer than Samuel’s had been.

“Well done, Eliza,” you praised. “Just a little more practice.”

As the children took turns, you all began your own game, the competitive banter starting almost immediately.

“Remember the last time we played, Colin?” Anthony said with a sly smile. “I believe I won by a rather large margin.”

Colin scoffed. “Only because you ‘accidentally’ knocked my ball into the rose bushes.”

“I recall that quite differently,” Anthony retorted, lining up his shot. “Skill and strategy, brother.”

Kate laughed, stepping up to take her shot. “If we’re talking strategy, I think we all know who the real mastermind is.”

“Me?” Gregory said, feigning surprise. “I’m flattered.”

Hyacinth rolled her eyes. “You wish, Gregory.”

The game continued, your competitive spirits tempered by the joy of being together.

The children quickly improved under the watchful eyes and encouraging words of you, Benedict, and their aunts and uncles.

Samuel’s frustration melted away as he started to get the hang of it, his swings becoming more precise.

Eliza’s confidence grew with each successful hit, her laughter ringing out whenever she managed to get her ball through a wicket.

As the sun began its slow descent, casting long shadows across the lawn, the game grew more intense.

The final wickets and the last stake loomed ahead, and the older Bridgertons’ playful teasing turned into more serious strategies.

Anthony, ever the leader, was ahead, his strokes measured and deliberate.

Kate was close behind, her competitive nature driving her to match her husband’s skill.

Colin and Penelope were locked in a friendly rivalry, each trying to outdo the other with clever shots and strategic positioning.

Daphne and Simon, always a formidable team, played with a synergy that came from years of understanding each other’s moves.

Eloise, and Francesca, had their competitive spirits shining through.

Benedict and you, however, were more focused on your children.

You took turns guiding Samuel and Eliza, offering tips and cheering their successes.

The children’s enthusiasm was infectious, and soon the entire family was rooting for them, their rivalries momentarily forgotten.

“Come on, Samuel, you’ve got this!” Colin called out as Samuel lined up his shot for the final wicket.

“Just a gentle tap,” Benedict advised. “You don’t need much force.”

Samuel nodded, taking a deep breath. He swung the mallet, and the ball rolled forward, wobbling slightly before it passed cleanly through the wicket.

A cheer went up from the family, and Samuel beamed with pride.

Eliza was next, her eyes fixed on the final stake. “I can do it, Mama,” she said with determination.

“I know you can, sweetheart,” you replied, giving your daughter an encouraging nod.

Eliza took her time, carefully positioning her ball.

Her swing was gentle yet precise, and the ball rolled steadily towards the stake, tapping it lightly.

Another round of cheers erupted, and Eliza jumped up and down with joy.

As the game drew to a close, you all gathered around the final stake, your competitive spirits giving way to a sense of camaraderie and family pride.

Anthony and Kate, still neck and neck, decided to call it a draw, their laughter mingling with the cheers and applause.

“Well done, everyone,” Anthony said, his authoritative tone softened by a smile. “Especially you two,” he added, looking at Samuel and Eliza. “You played brilliantly.”

You wrapped her arms around your children, hugging them tightly. “We’re so proud of you.”

Benedict joined in the embrace, his heart swelling with love and happiness. “Today was perfect,” he said softly, kissing the top of Eliza’s head.

The family began to disperse, some heading towards the house while others lingered on the lawn, enjoying the last moments of the day.

Colin and Penelope sat on a nearby bench, their hands intertwined as they watched their children chase each other around.

Daphne and Simon strolled towards the garden, their heads close together in quiet conversation.

Gregory and Hyacinth were already planning the next game, their animated discussion drawing smiles from those nearby.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over Aubrey Hall, Benedict and you stood together, watching your children play with their cousins.

The day had been filled with laughter, love, and the joy of family, a perfect reminder of what truly mattered.

Benedict turned to you, his eyes reflecting the contentment he felt. “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

You smiled, leaning into him. “Neither could I.”

With the sound of your children’s laughter echoing around you and the promise of many more games and gatherings to come, you knew that no matter where life took you, you would always have each other.

And that, more than anything, was what made your family so special.

[steviesbicrisis]

Dustin had been waiting this moment for months.

Mind you, Dustin isn’t one to bring up his personal life to the public at any chance he gets, but a part of him really wants everyone to know his role in one of the most important up-coming weddings of the year.

“So, I’ve heard you had a big role in all of this, what happened?” The host asks, on the edge of his seat.

“Well, I know Eddie cause we’ve done some livestreams together, we’ve met a couple of times and he seemed cool. And I know Steve cause, other than working together, he’s basically a brother to me, you know-” the audience interrupts him with a big ‘aaaaw’ sound and loud clapping.

“I think you misunderstood me, he’s the type of older brother who is no fun and makes you wish either of you was adopted.”

The audience laughs.

“Anyways, we were all at a party and I introduced them and Eddie was, you know, immediately obsessed with Steve. But Steve was engaged at the time,” Dustin decides to not dwell on this part of the story, it was a very tough time for Steve and some of it was public enough to make it worse. Dustin is just happy that he can talk about Steve’s ex-fiancé in the past tense.

“Time goes on, and as soon as the news of Steve being single again hits the public, I get a call from one begging Eddie Munson-” he wasn’t really begging but Dustin wants to sell the story “-asking about Steve once again. Like, how was he? Was he fine? Ready to meet other people? and I was like 'I don't know dude, I don't ask him about his dating prospects daily' and that's when he asked for Steve's number."

Dustin takes a small pause before going into the next part of the story "Obviously I don't go around giving people Steve's number, and I get asked a lot," the audience laughs again, "so I do the decent thing and ask Steve can I give Eddie your number? is it okay?

And Steve goes all into this theatrical performance Oi, no, mamma mia," Dustin goes strong with the Italian accent "All these men, che palle, they never leave me alone. Oddio-”

The host interrupts him “wait, does Steve have this strong Italian accent?”

“Of course not, he was born in Indiana, I’m trying to sell the story man!” Dustin pretends to be annoyed and the host goes along with it, making the audience laugh and cheer.

“Anyways, he was trying to say no but clearly meant yes. So I gave Eddie the number and whatever Eddie did with it, must’ve been the right call.”

A photo of Steve’s engagement announcement appears behind them right after: Steve and Eddie’s hands, finger intertwined and matching rings.

“Clearly he did” the host agrees after the clapping and cheering from the audience dies down.

“And what about wedding gifts? Are you doing something with the whole group? Or is it a solo thing?” The host inquires.

“Uh, I gave Steve a husband?? He should be giving me gifts”.

———

Predictably, the interview goes viral.

A few days later, Dustin comes back home to find a gift waiting for him.

It’s two VIP tickets for one of Eddie’s shows under his and Suzie’s name (a YouTuber friend Dustin didn’t have the courage to ask out, yet).

The note attached to the box is simple and very clear.

“Thank you, little shit. Now that we are even, the wedding gift is expected or you’ll be grounded.

See you at the wedding

S&E”

Despite being a twenty something, successful and independent since he was 17, Dustin takes the threat very seriously.