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sometimesanalice · 1 month ago

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Dream a Little Dream

Summary: After a long week away in Lemoore, all Bradley wants to do is come home to you. The only thing is, you’re just not where he expects to find you.

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 4.5K

Warnings: so much fluff and a truly smitten Bradley Bradshaw (mdni)

(author's note: this is a fic is set in the 'Like I Can' universe, however it can be read on it's own!)

Bradley throws his head back and lets out low groan as he hits another red light.

Nothing in the past week he’d spent up in Lemoore had felt as long as this drive home from base.

Not the stuffy dinner with the higher ups that had Mav and him exchanging looks from across the table, both of them clearly wishing to be anywhere else than done up in their Dress Whites. Not the long nights sharing a room with Hangman, who snored louder than the multiple phone alarms that he’d kept snoozing instead of turning off, as if the scratchy Navy provided sheets weren’t bad enough on their own. Not the drills or the lectures or the reviewing of the new procedural guidelines or equipment requirements with the crew stationed up there.

He'd felt the all the tension that had been building up over the week melt off of him the moment he’d turned the key in the ignition- the engine to the Bronco rumbling to life after a week of sitting on a parking lot on North Island- knowing that he was finally on his way home.

Technically, he was on his way to your apartment. But it was the same difference to him.

Wherever you were was where he wanted to be.

That was home. You were home.

Minus the fact that the San Diego traffic controllers seemed to have it out for him.

He thought for a moment he’d make it to your place in record time considering that there weren’t many people on the road a 2am. He hadn’t even bothered to turn the radio on, but even 105.3 THE ROCK where hits go to die would be preferable to the way he was agitatedly drumming his thumb on the steering wheel. But he was stubborn and now he left it off out of spite when his drive became a game of ‘How Many Times Will Rooster Hit The Red’.

It had been more stop than go at this point.

“Finally,” Bradley mumbles to himself when the light turns green and shifts out of neutral into first.

When Jake had dropped him off at base after their five-hour road trip back to San Diego, he’d decided to suck it up and stick around to get some of the paperwork that he’d been putting off out of the way so that he could enjoy the days off he had lined up after the trip. He might have lost track of time and caught a second wind filling out flight logs with only the whir of the overhead fluorescents to keep him company, working until he reached the point where he felt like he couldn’t keep his eyes opened anymore. His eyelids getting heavier and heavier with each passing minute he stayed seated at the desk he’d commandeered to work at.

It had been a week of sleeping like shit. And not just because of the creaky, lumpy mattress or Hangman’s snoring. But because he’d gotten used to your soft, warm body pressed against his and the sound of your gentle breathing to lull him to sleep. He’d had a taste of what true luxury was like and now it was hard to go back to the bare minimum he’d known before.

He’d known even before he’d left the building that he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep unless you were tucked against him. He’d barely slept 300 miles away from you, but it would have been even worse to go back to his condo knowing you were closer than ever and yet still so far.

Being in the same city wasn’t enough for him. He needed to be under the same roof, under the same covers.

Four red lights later, he’s turning onto your block. By some kind of miracle there’s an open spot big enough for the Bronco near the main entry without him having to maneuver into it with too much effort. It’s another reason why he’s dying to have you move in with him, the parking at your apartment complex is trash. And there are never enough guest spots, even with the parking pass he kept in his glove box.

Bradley lets himself in to your apartment as quietly as he can, opening the door slowly as to not wake you. The spare key you’d given him when you’d first moved here had lived on his own set of keys for the last couple of years, along with the fighter jet keychain you’d picked up for him when the two of you were teens during a family trip to Pensacola as thanks for looking after your hermit crabs. Even if one of them did lose a claw on his watch, which he’d felt guilty about for days, until you told him it would most likely grow back.

He’d never had a lot to be sentimental about, but that keychain with the charm whose silver finish had long been worn off around the edges was one of the few things that had been everywhere with him, so it wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

He gingerly sets the key on the console table you had near the front door, trying to keep them from clattering together. Carefully, he toes his boots off and sets his bag down next to them, making sure to keep it off the runner you had in the entryway. He knew you wouldn’t care if he tracked in some dirt on it, but he did.

One of the things he’s always liked about your apartment is how lived in it was.

Even in the dark, Bradley could make out the ruffly curtains you’d hung up over the door to your balcony. And the impressive gallery wall that framed your TV, one that was a mix of your own photos and art that you’ve accumulated along the way. There were more pillows than he thought was necessary on your couch, but made for one of his favorite afternoon nap spots. You usually had fresh flowers on your coffee table, the ones there now from what he could tell looked a little wilted, so he made a note to pick you up something from the shop next to the grocery store when he goes out to restock his fridge.

He lightly treads past your kitchen- and the two different types of coffee makers you had lined up on the countertop- towards your bedroom.

Bradley could already see it in his mind’s eye. The curve of the dip of your waist as you slept under your white comforter with the light blue piping along the edges. Always with a foot kicked out. The framed picture of the two of you on your nightstand. The chair in the corner where your pile of folded-and-to-be-put-away-later clean clothes sat. Your dresser topped with some leafy green thing and your tray of jewelry, where you’d cleared out not one but three drawers - which was a whole half of wooden unit he’d helped you build when you first moved in- for him to use for his things. Not to mention space in your closest too and room on the shoe rack you kept in there.

It was more than what he needed, but that was you. You’d always been the type to go above and beyond for the people you cared about. But now it meant more because you weren’t just sharing your space with him, you were sharing your life with him.

The blinds aren’t pulled closed, so your room is illumined with more city light than he was expecting. And he can see with clarity that everything is in its place.

The picture of him kissing your cheek- your nose scrunched up in that way he knows so well- in the grassy park where you’d surprised him with a showing of one of his favorite movies on one of your first dates together. The white linen covered chair with your clothes had an old sweatshirt of his tossed over the back of it that he knows if he were to pick it up would smell more like you than him. The plant in the white ceramic vase on your dresser was one you’d bought at the farmer’s market almost two years ago now to commemorate your big move there, you’d proudly carried it around for the rest of the morning while he’d carried your ever-growing collection of bags.

Everything right where it should be, except for you.

Your bed is perfectly made up. Well, the side he usually sleeps on is. The are corners still tucked in with the same crisp precision you use to wrap presents. The right side, however, looks like the comforter and sheets were hastily thrown back, a rumpled pile of fabric in the spot where he thought you’d be sleeping.

There’s only one other place where you would be.

Bradley doesn’t even try to quiet his steps as he struts back towards the door with a new destination in mind. He shoves his feet back into his boots, not bothering to retie his laces, as he scoops his keys out of the little bowl he’d just put them in barely even five minutes ago. Only slowing down long enough to make sure he’s properly locked the door behind him before he’s back in the Bronco for the second time that night.

This time the drive feels like nothing. Especially since he hits green lights all the way there.

His lips turn up in an automatic smile when he sees your all-too-practical white Honda Civic parked in the drive way of his condo. He doesn’t think he could find the words to describe the feeling that wells up in his chest at the sight of it.

It just felt right.

Bradley lets himself in, using his own key this time.

His condo had always felt more like a place to land, rather than a home. Over the last few months though that feeling has changed for him.

For Bradley’s whole life things have felt temporary. The people he met. The things he owned. The bases he lived on. You made him crave permanence in a way he’d never experienced before. The two of you had a couple decades worth of history, but he knew he couldn’t be truly content until his ring was on your finger and you shared his last name.

He can see your fingerprints in this space from the knit blanket draped on his couch to the framed print on the wall over the breakfast nook. He can see the promise of a future together in the fancier-than-he’s-used-to coffee maker on the kitchen counter.

It’s quiet, but not the empty kind.

The light above the stove is turned on illuminating the kitchen.

That was usually his final task of the night before going to bed. Flicking off the brighter overheads in exchange for the softer one that gave him just enough light to avoid crashing into things in the darkness if he woke up in the middle of the night and was on the hunt for something to eat or drink while still half-asleep.

Although it hits him now that he can’t remember the last time he’s turned it on himself.

It was something he’d noticed that you didn’t do at your own apartment when the two of you had first started sleeping together. But now if he thinks back on it, every glass of cool water out of the filtering pitcher you kept in the fridge and every bowl of late-night cereal he’s had that little light has been on to guide him into the kitchen while you slept peacefully in bed.

It’s a realization that lands squarely behind his ribcage.

Bradley kicks his boots off next to your sandals by the door and turns the lock back into place behind him. Normally, he’d take them up to be put away in their proper place, but for now he’s got other more important things on his mind.

He takes the stairs two at a time as soundlessly as he can, avoiding the step that sometimes pops. The first door on the left has been left slightly ajar, just wide enough for him to slip into.

there you are, his heart registers before his eyes do.

Tucked under the green comforter- with that one foot kicked out- on the wooden canopy bed he’d recently purchased is you.

He couldn’t fight back the smile on his face that the sight of you curled up there on his side of the bed, with your face pressed into his pillow, even if he wanted to.

Bradley still doesn’t know how he got to be so lucky that he gets to be the one to see you like this, at complete ease as you sleep, as relaxed in his bed as you are in your own. He’s grateful for every morning he gets to wake up with you and every night he gets to fall asleep with you in his arms.

It’s never been like this for him, not before you. It’s a good thing he’s already told you he loved you, otherwise he doesn’t think he could have been able to hold himself back from waking you up right here and now to tell you.

Quietly, he steps up the side of the bed, taking a moment to admire you looking soft and warm and like everything he could ever want. The few FaceTime calls the two of you had had over the course of the week couldn’t even begin to capture just how beautiful you were. Bradley leans down to brush a featherlight kiss against your temple and straightens back up. You let out a contented hmm, and he hopes you’re dreaming of him.

He’s never needed anything more than to be under those covers with you.

Bradley undresses quickly in the walk-in closet and strips down to his boxer briefs, leaving his khakis to decorate the floor until sometime later when the sun was back up in the sky. Realizing as he takes off his watch that in his rush to get here that he’d left his bag with all his other laundry by the door at your apartment. A grunt of exasperation escapes him, and he’s glad that you’re a deep sleeper and the fact he keeps his baseball bat in the garage. Especially since he’s the one that taught you how to power swing.

The only sound in the room is of your even breaths and his carpet-muffled footsteps as he pads across the room. He lifts up the covers on your side of them bed and slides into the cool sheets, the stiffness in his joints loosening at the contact, and scoots in closer until he can feel your warmth.

He’d been in San Diego for the better part of four hours now, but he hadn’t been truly home until about thirty seconds ago.

Bradley debates for a split-second whether or not to let you sleep or if he should wake you up so you’re not startled to find a 6’ 1” aviator back in bed with you. But he knows you well enough to make an educated guess. He murmurs your name, rubbing a hand gently up and down along your back, and presses his lips together when you let out a soft, sleepy sigh.

You jolt a little as you ease back into consciousness. “B-bradley?”

“It’s just me,” he hums in confirmation as he squeezes your hip, all sleep-warmed skin under his palm. He doesn’t miss the way you relax instantly against him at the sound of his voice, settling further back into him.

“You’re home early.” You reach back for him, your hand finding the base of his head, lightly scratching at his scalp as you weave your fingers through his hair.

“Mav either pulled some strings or took one for the team by staying another day, but we all jumped at the chance to get out of Le-snore early.” You let out a little snort at that.

“’re you hungry?” you offer sleepily, the words a bit slurred and strung together. “Do you want me to make you something?” Bradley is equal parts amused and endeared that you’re not even half way awake yet and wanting to look after him.

His sweet girl.

He presses an affectionate kiss on the back of your neck and wonders if you can feel his soft smile, the one that’s reserved for only you.

“Nah, I’m good,” he says, resting his chin on your shoulder, “I promise.”

He’d snagged a couple protein bars from the mess on base and had scarfed them down as he filled out his overdue flight logs. But also, there was no way he was getting out of this bed now that he was in it. Not for anything in the world.

Bradley leans in close, letting his lips skim against your ear, “You know this could count as breaking and entering, kid. Always knew that good girl thing was just an act.”

You lightly tug on his hair. “I don’t think that would hold up in court of law seeing as you gave me a key and all,” you retort, you voice still low and raspy from sleep.

“I’m pretty sure I gave my best friend a key,” he drawls, teasingly, “Don’t remember giving my girlfriend one though.” He drops a kiss to your soft-cotton covered shoulder. The shirt you were wearing was one he’d completely forgotten about until you sent him that picture of you in bed sometime past 2am in the early days of when you’d started dating, before the two of you had sex for the first time. His name was printed on the back- right at the very top- along with all the other players on the Washington High Cardinals baseball team from the year they’d won the championship. “Think ‘m going to have to fix that.”

You shake your head amused into his pillow before looking at him from over your shoulder and turning to lean back into his chest. When your eyes meet, there’s nothing but fondness reflected in them. Yours is a face he’s known most of his life, he could read you as easily as any book, and it’s even more apparent just a few inches away from his just how happy you are to see him.

He slides a hand around the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek as he drinks you in. His eyes travel over your forehead, and along the curve of your cheekbones, and down the bridge of your nose, and lands on the dimples framing your smile.

thereyouarethereyouare

Bradley dips down to kiss you for the first time in a week. Your lips part easily, like you’ve been waiting for this too. There’s no rush. Your kiss is slow like honey off a spoon. Just as sweet as it’s meant to be savored. And there’s no doubt in his mind that this was always how it was supposed to be.

You and him.

Him and you.

Together.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he says, warmly.

“Hi, Bradley.” You tilt your head up for another kiss, one he has no intention withholding from you. “I missed you.”

It’s a new feeling for him, knowing he has someone to miss him when he is away. And having someone to miss in return. It’s been a long time since he’s had that in any real way that truly mattered. Bradley knows he’s due for a deployment soon, one that’ll take him from you- from this bed- for months. He’s already found the perfect thing to give you for when he leaves, something to show you how he’ll be thinking of you. But he doesn’t want to dwell on that inevitable reality.

For now, he just wants to share your warmth and focus on the feel of you pressed against him. Enjoying the luxury of getting to have this with you.

He just lets himself hold you the way you deserve to be held. He lets himself kiss you the way you deserve to be kissed. He’ll love you the way you deserve to be loved for as long as you’ll have him.

“I missed you too.” Whispering your name because he likes feel of it in his mouth.

“I think I was having a dream about you,” you murmur against his lips.

Bradley grins. “Yeah? Was it dirty?” You laugh in response, it’s his favorite sound. Happy. You make him so damn happy. He buries his face in the nook where your neck meets your shoulder and breathes you in. Lavender and cedar. Your favorite lotion to put on before bed, and something of his that he can’t put his finger on. “Mm, you smell good.”

“I took a shower before bed, used your body wash,” you tell him, running your hand along his arm. He senses you smile before he hears it. “And you smell like Jake.”

He groans and rubs the coarse hairs of his mustache against the soft skin of your neck. You giggle and try to squirm away from his prickly retaliation, but he’s got you basically pinned to the bed now. All your perfect curves against his firm angles.

“I can’t believe he’s still using a black ice tree air freshener like a damn sixteen-year-old,” Bradley grumbles. As if him and Seresin hadn’t spent enough quality time together over the week, now he was basically in bed with him and his girlfriend.

“At least you’ll know what to get him for his birthday,” you offer less than helpfully, playfully nudging his foot with yours.

Bradley chuckles and props himself up on an arm to gaze at you. He can feel the need for sleep settling over him, the long day and the longer week catching up with him that now he’s home and here with you. He can tell you’re drowsy too from the dewy way you’re blinking at him, and appreciative that you’re indulging him in this bit of pillow talk. In the quiet of his bedroom, he admits, “I went to your apartment first.”

You look almost bashful when you say, “I like these sheets better.” Both of you know that’s not your real answer for why you’re in his bed instead of yours.

He lifts an eye brow, meaningfully. “You have the same ones at your place.” Bradley knows because he made sure to check and buy the same kind for his own bed.

“Semantics,” you reply, breezily. Although he catches a hint of a pleased smile before you lean into trail a few kisses along the underside of his jaw. “Do you want your side of the bed back?” you ask.

“It’s our bed, sweet girl. You can sleep wherever you want,” Bradley says, “I’m good just as long as I can hold my girl.”

You thumb at the dimple of his chin, gazing up at him, “Have you gotten much sleep this week?”

Bradley just hums in response.

The softest of looks coast over your face. Understanding, sympathy, tenderness. It’s all there painted on your face from the little furrow between your eyebrows to the thoughtful search in your eyes as you read his face in return. He didn’t even say a word and you’ve got him figured out.

You tug on his arm and turn back over, taking him with you. Snuggling in so that your body is cradled closer to his, his chest all but pressed against your back. He slides his arm under your pillow and finds your other hand, threading his larger fingers between your own.

He situates your pillow beneath his head, sighing as he gets comfortable on the supportive mattress. He runs his palm over the familiar dip of your waist as you stretch and burrow in further, getting ready to go back to sleep. His fingertips find the edge of your cotton underwear and he follows it over your hip and along the side of your stomach, slipping one under the band to stroke at the soft skin near your hipbone.

It's the same spot where he’d find you butterflies if the two of you weren’t reversed from the way you usually fall asleep facing the other direction. Their location was a pinpoint in his mind, memorized from the moment he’d seen them that very first night together. He liked imagining he could feel the delicate lines of them under his fingertips as he drifted to sleep.

He hears the almost inaudible catch of your breath at his touch. “In the morning,” he promises.

You make a half-hearted noise of dissatisfaction, already well on your way to falling back asleep. He feels more than a little self-satisfied that he’s the one getting these reactions from you, that you want his touch just as much as he wants yours.

“Tease.” You nestle in closer, your ass brushing against his cock in a way that leaves no question it had been done on purpose.

“Menace,” he chuckles, lightly.

You hum, a pleased sound and reach for his wrist, removing temptation for the both of you and slide his hand beneath your shirt right to the very spot above your bellybutton where he normal finds its drifted to during the night on the mornings he wakes up with you in his arms.

The two of you fit together better than he ever could have possibly imagined.

“Hey, kid, what’re you doing tomorrow? I wanted to take you to breakfast.”

“To the place with the banana pancakes?”

Kisses the crown of your head, and he thinks he hears you sigh. “Wherever you want.”

“I could get away with a little hooky,” you yawn, “Maybe we could go to the beach too. Wanna spend the day with you.”

Bradley pulls you in closer, and closes his eyes. “Sounds like a plan.”

“I can’t wait.” It’s more of a sleepy mumble than anything else, but he’s already looking forward to waking up.

He listens as your breathing slowly evens out, knowing when you’ve fully drifted off. It didn’t take you long, the way it never seems to when he’s in bed beside you.

Maybe one day soon he’ll get to have you here with him every night. But until then, this is more than enough, he’s happy to fall asleep with his dream girl tucked on his arm.

Bradley lets himself imagine the day where you come and stay and it’s for good this time, because all of your clothes are in the closet and your mail gets delivered along with his.

And it won’t be just his favorite dream, it’ll be his reality.

I will never not be down bad for a smitten Bradley Bradshaw! Thank you to @yourlocalcringydaydreamer for sending the ask that inspired this soft fic!

Thank you for reading!

You can read more about these two or check out all of my stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x you #rooster x reader #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction

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experteasyau · 2 years ago

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Gaming Desks

8 Best Gaming Desks in Australia (2023)

Gaming has evolved into a profession and a thriving industry. However, the risks they pose to our health from prolonged sitting or standing cannot be ignored. Thus, it's crucial to carefully consider your gaming setup and prioritise your well-being. Highly curated gaming workspaces not only improve our health but offer outstanding gaming experiences and comfort.

In this guide, we discuss one of the crucial components of a gaming workspace; gaming desks. We uncover and evaluate the best options available in Australia and what to look out for when making a purchase. And if you're after an ergonomic gaming chair to complete your setup, check out our guide on the best gaming chairs.

Top 8 Gaming Desks for Australians

Getting a gaming desk should be a priority if you're a pro gamer. Here are the best gaming desks available in Australia:

Secretlab Magnus Pro/Pro XL: Best Overall Gaming Desk for Australians

Type: Adjustable rectangular

Desk height: 65 – 125 cm

Weight capacity: 120 kg

Warranty: 5 years

The Secretlab Magnus Pro/Pro XL Sit-to-Stand gaming desks are the ultimate choice for enhancing your gaming experience. Available in Australia, these desks offer exceptional features and functionality. With adjustable height and an expansive surface area, they accommodate all your gaming accessories. Integrated power supply, clutter-free design, and safety measures ensure a seamless and secure gaming setup. Customization options like desk mats and multi-colored magnetic LED lighting add to the immersive experience. Take your gaming to new heights with the Secretlab Magnus Pro/Pro XL gaming desks.

2. Desky Alpha Dual Gaming Desk: Best Australian-Made Gaming Desk

Desk type: Adjustable rectangular

Desk height: 60 - 125 cm

Weight capacity: 140 kg

Warranty: 10 years

The Alpha Dual Sit-Stand gaming desk offers adjustable height for a healthier gaming experience. With a range of 60 to 125 cm, you can easily switch between sitting and standing positions. The desk provides ample space, accommodating up to three monitors, with options of 47-inch or 59-inch sizes. It features stable construction, easy assembly, and includes convenient features like cable management channels, child-locking prevention, USB charging port, and anti-collision detection. Choose from different edge options, desktop sizes, and additional accessories for a personalized setup. Rest assured with a comprehensive 10-year warranty. Upgrade your gaming workstation with the Alpha Dual Sit-Stand gaming desk.

3. Zen Pro Sit Stand Gaming Desk: Best Gaming Desk for Beginners

Desk type: Rectangular

Desk height: 60 - 125 cm

Weight capacity: 140 kg

Warranty: 10 years

The Expert 2.0 gaming desk by Zen Space Desk is an ergonomic and electrically height-adjustable desk. It features an ergo edge for better proximity to your gaming screens and accessories, along with a cable management channel to reduce clutter. With programmable height adjustment limits, you can easily switch between standing and sitting positions. The desk offers customization options, including surface size and accessories, and is designed for excellent stability with a weight capacity of 140 kg. It is a great choice for beginner gamers looking for a fully ergonomic and customizable gaming desk.

4. Arozzi Arena Gaming Desk: Best Aesthetic Gaming Desk

Desk type: Rectangular

Desk height: 78.7 cm

Weight capacity: 80 kg

Warranty: 2 years

The Arozzi Arena gaming desk is a thoughtfully designed desk that caters to the needs of most gamers. Its spacious 48-inch desktop surface can accommodate multiple monitors, while the curved design adds aesthetics and ergonomic benefits. The desk offers adjustable height options and is remarkably sturdy despite its size and weight capacity. With the package, you receive assembling tools, two full-surface desk mats, and an easy-to-follow manual for quick setup. It also includes three cable management cutouts and comes in a choice of five colors for customization.

5. Seven Warrior Gaming Desk: Best Fixed-Height Gaming Desk

Desk type: Rectangular

Desk height: 74.93 cm

Weight capacity: 150 kg

The Seven Warrior 60-inch gaming desk features a waterproof carbon fibre texture finish, steel support, and a weight capacity of 150 kg. It includes a fully-covered mouse pad, cable management grommets, and additional accessories like a USB gaming handle rack and headphone hook. The desk's versatility allows it to blend well in different environments, although it may have minimal wobbling at maximum capacity. For those prioritizing ergonomic features, Desky's Alpha Dual Gaming Desk is recommended.

6. Desino Gaming Desk: Best Gaming Desk for Casual Gamers

Desk type: Rectangular

Desk height: 75 cm

Weight capacity: 113.4 kg

Warranty: 12 months

Desino's 40-inch gaming desktop is constructed with durable carbon fibres and diagonal braces, providing a sturdy and long-lasting design. It offers convenient features like a cup holder, headphone hook, and built-in monitor stand for an enhanced gaming experience. The desk is easy to assemble with the included manual and offers ergonomic benefits for extended gaming sessions. While it provides ample space and stability, it's important to consider its unadjustable height and dimensions to ensure a proper fit for your setup.

7. Casaottima L-Shaped Gaming Desk: Best Fixed-Height L-Shaped Gaming Desk

Desk type: L-shaped

Desk height: 77.2 cm

Weight capacity: 45.36 kg

Warranty: 3 years

Casaottima's gaming desk offers a hassle-free setup process and a satisfying gaming experience. With a sleek design, dedicated monitor shelf, and durable X-shaped frame, it provides ample legroom and stability. The adjustable leg pads and lightweight construction further enhance its convenience. For those who prefer U-shaped desks, two L-shaped desks can be combined to create a wider surface. The desk is made from engineered wood with a waterproof, scratchproof, and heatproof surface, ensuring durability.

8. Eureka Ergonomic I60-SLB Gaming Desk

Desk type: Rectangular

Desk height: 75.5 cm

Weight capacity: 150 kg

Warranty: 12 months

Eureka's I60-SLB gaming desk is a rectangular desk with stable square-shaped legs and thoughtful cable management features. The desk's carbon fiber finish and metal frame contribute to an immersive gaming experience, while adjustable leveling feet ensure a comfortable viewing position. The 60-inch desk space is suitable for dual monitor setups. However, the desk is not a single-piece design, which may be inconvenient on slightly raised or unleveled floors.

How to Choose the Best Gaming Desk

To buy a gaming desk that complements your station, you first need to understand your personal preferences. For example, gamers with an itch for aesthetics can compromise a little functionality and not be too wary about it. In addition to these personal preferences, here are other factors to consider when choosing a gaming desk.

Size

Shape

Adjustability

Storage

Material

Price

Tired of losing your game battles? It's time to level up your gaming setup with a specialized gaming desk from Expert Easy. Gain the winning edge with a desk that offers superior features designed for gaming excellence. While a regular desk may provide enough space and comfort, it simply can't match the immersive gaming experience that a dedicated gaming desk offers. Upgrade your gaming space with Expert Easy and unleash your full gaming potential!

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tech-news-hub · 2 years ago

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Top 5 Best Gaming Desks for Gamers: A Comprehensive Guide

As a gamer, you know that having the right gear can make all the difference in your gaming experience. From your Computer to your Controller , every aspect of your setup can impact your performance and enjoyment. One of the most overlooked but essential pieces of gear for gamers is a gaming desk. A dedicated gaming desk can provide the comfort, space, and functionality you need to fully immerse yourself in your favorite games.

In this article, we'll be taking a closer look at the top 5 best gaming desks for gamers. We'll consider key criteria such as ergonomics, size and space, durability, cable management, and aesthetics to help you find the perfect gaming desk for your setup. Whether you're a casual gamer or a hardcore enthusiast, you're sure to find a gaming desk that meets your needs and budget. So, let's dive in and find the perfect gaming desk for you!

#gaming #game #gadgets #reviews #office desk

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risustravelogue · 2 months ago

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Welcome, Little One

◐ summary ◑

It's the birth of your and his child.

◐ featuring ◑

Husband!Wriothesley, Husband!Alhaitham (separate), fem!reader

◐ tags & warnings ◑

Childbirth (DUH), fluffy fluff. A bit(?) self-indulgent. Wriothesley has a baby boy, while Alhaitham has a baby girl.

◐ a/n ◑

I think I'm having a baby fever.

🔗 AO3 | masterlist 🔗

If staring daggers into a blabbering businessman is counted as work, then the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide is currently busy.

Very busy.

To be fair, he has been waiting on news from the hospital regarding the birth of his child—your child.

You have been waiting for this little miracle for years now—it took you no small amount of convincing your husband to even start trying. And after he agreed to try, it took another one and a half years before you successfully got pregnant.

And now, the life both of you created together is about to arrive.

Alas, work called him while the two of you were waiting for the baby’s birth. The Iudex, with a heavy heart, had to take Wriothesley away from your side. Apparently, a businessman heard that the Duke is on the surface and demanded to meet in person today, else he’d cut off supplies to the Fortress.

So here the Duke is, having to listen to the man bragging about how he’s inheriting his father’s business and such. Wriothesley taps his feet onto the marble floor and clicks his tongue.

“Get to the point,” he growls. “I have little patience for your games. What do you want?”

The businessman replies with a sly grin. “Why, I only want to continue the arrangement between my business and yours!” he puffs. “I’ve heard that you are an adept businessman yourself, Your Grace. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be able to get so many Clockwork Mekas produced in a year. You must have—”

“Get. To. The point.”

“What I mean is—”

The door of the Iudex’s office suddenly swings open. Sedene comes in, shouting Wriothesley’s title while running.

“Calm down, Sedene,” Neuvillette shushes. “What is it?”

The Melusine turns to Wriothesley, gesturing with excitement.

”I got a call, Your Grace. Your wife—”

That’s all Wriothesley needs to hear. He stands up and runs out of the office, of the Palais Mermonia, all the way to the hospital downtown.

He arrives as you are ushered out in a wheelchair by a nurse, cradling a small, cloth-wrapped thing in your arms. His eyes widen when he realizes that you are holding a baby.

Your baby.

He whispers, then calls out your name. You lift your eyes, gaze meeting icy blue, and smile.

“Look, there’s Daddy,” you whisper to your newborn. Wriothesley slowly steps until he’s in front of you, and kneels on the floor to embrace his family.

“You have a baby boy,” you say to your husband, your smile widening. “Say hi.”

“Hi,” he coos. “Hi, baby. Daddy’s here.”

Wriothesley glances up to meet your gaze, and you can see tears welling up in his eyes. He leans in to give your lips a sweet kiss.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be by your side while you delivered,” he apologizes.

“Mm. No need for that, you know. All’s well,” you hum. He closes the distance between your lips again.

“I know. Thank you.”

Your husband gives his baby boy a kiss on the forehead. The baby yawns and coos, and a smile blooms on the Duke’s lips.

“I love you,” he says. “Both of you.”

It’s highly unusual to see the Acting Grand Sage pace around.

He’s usually sitting cross-legged, face buried in a book that has caught his attention, or behind his desk, lazily scribbling on official documents needing approval or review. Sure, he runs for morning exercise, but anxiously pacing around is definitely not his style.

Who can fault him, though? He’s waiting for his child to be born, after all.

Luckily, the two of you were able to rent your own room in the Bimarstan to wait for the baby’s arrival, so he doesn’t bother the other patients. You watch your husband pacing from beside your bed to the entrance of the room, pausing a second in front of the door as if he wants to leave, but he always comes back to your side to shoot a glare at your very pregnant belly—only to sigh and repeat the motions again.

“How are you feeling?” Alhaitham asks, finally.

“Still fine, love,” you say, holding back a chuckle. “I’m sure I’ll know when it starts.”

He frowns and huffs. His arms are folded in front of his chest, and he shifts his weight on his feet.

“I’m not ready,” he admits.

You smile, gesturing for him to take your hand. He obliges, intertwining his fingers with yours and squeezing tight. You pull him closer and give the back of his hand a peck.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” you say. “I believe in you.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, but—”

Before he finishes speaking, you feel something flowing and your sheets getting wet.

“Uh, Haitham?”

“Yes?”

“I think my water just broke.”

—

Your screams reverberate in the delivery room. One of Alhaitham’s hands squeezes yours, while the other rests on your sweaty forehead. His expression is one of horror—he’s never heard you scream this loud. He’s read that childbirth is very painful for the mother, but seeing you undergo the experience is a truly harrowing thing.

“You can do this. I’m here,” he whispers, thumb caressing the back of your hand. “I’m here.”

You squeeze his hand and push with a pained groan. A baby’s cry echoes through the air.

“It’s a girl!” the doctor exclaims. “Congratulations!”

The nurses collectively sigh in relief. The doctor wipes down the baby and wraps her in a soft cloth, then puts her in your arms. You can feel your husband squeezing your hand even tighter as he looks down at his baby with a soft gaze.

“Oh,” he sighs. “I’m… a father now.”

The little girl opens her green eyes, and although she cannot see her parents yet, she smiles.

Alhaitham feels tears roll down his cheeks.

“She’s beautiful,” he breathes. He braves himself to caress his newborn daughter’s cheek.

She’s so soft.

A smile grows on your husband’s lips as he leans down to kiss the baby’s forehead.

“Hi, little one,” he whispers. “Welcome to the world.”

#cw childbirth #wriothesley #alhaitham #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #nereids' realm #kurisu writes #yahooooo another fic born from my procrastination /bonked

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uns4lted · 3 months ago

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ꜱᴏ ʜɪɢʜ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴘᴛ. 3 ᴡ/ ꜱᴀᴇ ɪᴛᴏꜱʜɪ, ʀᴇᴏ ᴍɪᴋᴀɢᴇ, ʀɪɴ ɪᴛᴏꜱʜɪ

characters: blue lock pairings: sae x gn! reader, reo x gn! reader, rin x gn! reader genre: fluff a/n: this was long overdue cause i'm so busy with my preboards review these days </3 let me make it up to you guys :')) drabbles series: So High School pt. 1, So High School pt. 2

── .✦ sae itoshi

It’s always the little things with Sae. It’s the way he walks you home after school or practice, even when he doesn’t say much. It’s the way he glances over his shoulder during a game, searching for your face in the crowd. It’s the way his hand brushes yours when no one’s looking, a quiet acknowledgment that, despite his cold exterior, you mean something to him.

Dating Sae feels like a secret shared between just the two of you. He’s not the type to broadcast his feelings, but in those rare moments, you see past the calm, distant look he always wears. You catch glimpses of the softer side of him like how he casually brings you a water bottle after his games, or the way he waits for you by the school gate without saying a word, just standing there like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

It’s Saturday night, and instead of hanging out with his teammates, Sae’s sprawled on the couch next to you, watching a movie. American Pie plays on the screen, but neither of you are really paying attention. The warmth between you two is enough.

“You know,” you say softly, “I didn’t think you were the type to watch cheesy movies like this.”

Sae glances over at you, his face still calm, but there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes. “I’m not.”

“Then why are you here?” you tease, nudging him lightly with your shoulder.

He shrugs, eyes returning to the screen. “Because you are.”

And that’s all it takes to make your heart flutter. With Sae, it’s always like this: simple, straightforward, but the meaning behind his words is enough to keep you smiling for the rest of the night.

It’s never about big, flashy public display of affection or saying everything out loud. It’s the quiet moments, the way he leans in just slightly when you sit next to him, or how his hand finds yours when you’re alone together, as if he can’t help but reach out to you.

It’s the little things that make it real.

── .✦ reo mikage

You sit at your desk, staring at your math assignment for what feels like forever. The numbers and equations blur together, and no matter how many times you reread the problems, they just don’t make sense. Frustration starts to bubble up inside you, and you’re close to giving up when Reo drops into the seat next to you, his presence instantly making the air feel a little lighter.

“Need help?” he asks, his voice light and friendly as ever.

You glance at him, surprised he even noticed your struggle. “Derivative,” you mumble, feeling a little defeated. “I just… I can’t seem to get it.”

Reo smiles, not mocking but understanding. He leans in, eyes scanning the question that’s been causing you grief. “Looks like calculus,” he says thoughtfully, making it sound like it’s no big deal. “Derivatives? Chain rule?”

You nod, feeling a little more hopeful now that he’s here.

Without a word, he pulls your notebook closer, studying the problem for a few seconds. “Alright, let’s break it down. Here, you started off right, but this is where you went off track.” He points to the middle of your calculations, his finger lightly tapping the page.

You lean in to see what he’s talking about, and suddenly, you’re aware of how close he is. His arm brushes against yours, and you catch the faint scent of his cologne. Your heart races, but you try to focus on the math problem in front of you.

“So,” Reo continues, “instead of multiplying these two, you’re supposed to take the derivative of the function inside the parentheses first. Like this.” He takes your pencil, effortlessly writing out the steps in his neat handwriting. “See? Now it makes sense.”

You nod, trying to process the information, but it’s hard when all you can think about is how close he is. “Oh… right. That makes sense,” you say, even though your thoughts are split between calculus and how his voice makes everything feel a little easier.

Reo glances at you, noticing your silence. “You sure you get it?” he asks, his tone soft but a little teasing.

“Yeah,” you respond quickly, then hesitate for a second before adding, “How do you make it so simple? You're so good at everything.”

His grin widens, a subtle warmth lighting up his eyes. “I’m just good at helping you out, I guess.”

Before you can even react to the compliment, he reaches out and ruffles your hair gently, a soft chuckle escaping him. “Don’t overthink it. You’ve got this!”

Your heart skips a beat, your cheeks warming as his hand lingers for a moment before he pulls away. The motion is so casual, yet it leaves you flustered. “Thanks,” you mumble, hoping he doesn’t notice the way you’re blushing.

Reo stands up, his usual easy confidence back in place. “If you need help again, you know where to find me,” he says, flashing you that familiar, charming smile. Then, just before he turns to leave, he gives you a quick, subtle wink—so smooth you almost miss it, but not quite.

“Thanks, Reo. I really appreciate it!”

“Anytime,” he replies, and with a final ruffle of your hair, he walks away.

It’s hard not to admire him more. Not just for being great at soccer, but for being surprisingly smart too. As he leaves, the solved problem feels like a bonus compared to the quiet sweetness of the moment you just shared.

── .✦ rin itoshi

It all started when your seat was assigned next to Rin, and the group projects you were in also included him. At first, it felt strange to be so close to someone who often seemed so distant. But as time passed, those little moments in class turned into something special. Working together in groups naturally led to walking home after school, just the two of you. What began as a simple routine soon became a highlight of your day, feeling increasingly unforgettable.

You can’t deny the fact that you admired Rin, maybe because of how confident he seemed. But being paired with him in class changed everything. Those shared glances and casual conversations slowly built a connection you hadn’t expected. “Hey,” you say, beaming a little too brightly, trying to keep your voice steady.

Rin looks over, maintaining his usual nonchalant expression. “Hey,” he replies.

Now, walking beside him feels like a dream. You take a breath, feeling a mix of excitement and shyness as you stroll along the familiar path. Each step feels charged with unspoken words and lingering glances, and even in silence, there's a sense of understanding between you.

Your hand brushes against his. It’s light, almost accidental, but it sends a jolt through you. Rin doesn’t pull away; instead, he subtly adjusts his hand, allowing your fingers to linger together for just a heartbeat longer. A flutter of nerves ignites in your stomach, but before you can second-guess yourself, your fingers intertwine with his. The simple gesture feels memorable, igniting a cozy feeling within you. There were no clumsy talks needed—just you and Rin, quietly savoring this newfound closeness.

As you walk, everything else around you fades away, creating a quiet space that’s just for the two of you. With every movement, it feels meaningful, like a treasured moment that brings you closer together.

a/n: fun fact: i had to open my old math book just so i could make up something in reo's part cause this man smart af and i feel like i had to be smart as well (so hard being dumb) LOOOOL. anw, still looking forward in making these drabbles for the other bllk chracters ;)) likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!

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kimmie2me · 2 months ago

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Dynamite and His Player 2

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Twitch Gamer!Bakugou x AFAB!Reader

.....

Bakugou glances over at the camera, brows furrowed as he adjusts his headset. "Alright, you extras, get ready to shut the hell up," he growls, his voice laced with annoyance. "She’s real. I’ve got her right here, and she’s playing with me tonight."

You laugh off-screen, causing his chat to explode with reactions. Up until now, they didn't believe a word Bakugou said when he claimed he had a girlfriend. After all, this is the guy known for his explosive reactions when things go slightly wrong. He grumbles, trying to keep his cool, but the slight blush on his cheeks gives him away.

The game loads up, some horror-puzzle co-op that requires a ton of coordination. But while Bakugou’s all business—focused on solving puzzles and surviving—you have other ideas. You’re busy teasing him, wandering off to explore the map, or purposely messing up just to get a rise out of him.

"Can you just—dammit! Will you STOP wandering off?" Bakugou snaps as he watches your character take another detour. "We’re supposed to be working together!"

You grin at the screen, purposely moving your character in circles. "Aw, come on, Suki~ We’re just having fun, right?"

His jaw clenches, and he mutters something under his breath about "not having fun if you keep screwing around." But his viewers are eating it up, laughing at his frustration and flooding the chat with comments like "She's brave for messing with him, LMAO😭😭" and "Bros .4 seconds away from exploding his monitor for the 10 millionth time🪦"

Eventually, he just huffs, slouching in his chair and mumbling, "Fine. Do whatever the hell you want. I’ll just wait here." His expression says he's beyond annoyed, but the hint of a smile peeking through his scowl gives away that maybe, just maybe, he's actually having a little fun too.

Grumpy Twitch Gamer Bakugou Headcanons

...

— Every time he messes up, he narrows his eyes at the camera with that “are you stupid?” glare. Chat spams "IT’S NOT OUR FAULT!” and "WHY R U LOOKING AT US LIKE WE DID THAT??" but he just huffs, “If you idiots weren’t DISTRACTING me…”

— Bakugou’s streaming style is brutally honest—constantly throwing out curses like it’s second nature. If he dies in-game, his go-to is, “How the hell am I supposed to win with this garbage game?!” and he never blames himself, ever.

— He has zero chill. Every so often, he’ll pound the desk so hard that the camera shakes, and one time he punched his mic so fiercely that it cut out, leaving chat in hysterics as he tries to fix it, muttering about “this piece of crap gear.”

— After every gaming session, he gives a review of the game he’s playing—most of which devolve into full-on rants about terrible controls, stupid enemies, and “whoever the hell designed these levels.” At this point, it's an entire essay by the time he's done.

— There are moments when he hits the mute button just to scream or cuss off-mic. Chat sees him red-faced and mouthing words, knowing he’s losing it, which makes them spam laugh emotes to annoy him further.

— Sometimes, when things get really bad, he just simply says "Okay." and goes quiet, leaning in close to the screen with this intense focus. Chat knows that if he’s silent, it’s only because he’s plotting to obliterate whatever got him killed.

— It’s become a running joke with his followers—every time he streams, they place bets on which piece of his equipment he’ll break. He’s replaced his keyboard three times already and had to upgrade his camera stand because he broke the last one during a particularly heated rage quit.

— When he finally beats a level, he acts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “See? Wasn’t even hard, you just have to not be a dumbass.” Cue the smug smirk.

— Occasionally, in his absolute rage, he’ll end the stream immediately after a loss. One second he’s there, screaming at the game, and then—stream offline.

— Despite all the rage, he’s actually insanely good at gaming. When he goes on a winning streak, chat blows up with admiration, but he barely acknowledges it. “’Course I won—who the hell do you think I am?”

— He has zero patience for backseat gamers. “Oh, you think you could do better? Why don’t you go start your own damn channel, then!” The mods know by now to instantly time out anyone who even hints at suggesting how he should play, and the ban count is astronomical by the end of each stream.

— Occasionally, Bakugou gets so into the game that he goes almost silent, and chat jokes it’s an ASMR session because all they can hear is his intense breathing and muttered curses. “Oi, STOP saying it’s ASMR, it’s not ASMR, you freaks!”

— Loading screens are his worst enemy. Every single time, he glares directly into the camera, arms crossed and seething, ranting about the “stupid long loading times” and how he could’ve “beat the damn game twice by now.” and how "a whole child could've been born by now." Chat watches in suspense because they know the rage is simmering, just waiting to explode.

— If he’s playing a console game, the controller does not have a safe future. He’s thrown it across the room, slammed it on his knee or desk, and even threatened it like, “You’re next, you little piece of shit, keep messing up on me.” He’s gone through so many controllers that his sponsor had to send him extras.

— When he loses in a PvP game, he has 1,001 excuses. “Lag. Dumb luck. Exploiter. The devs nerfed my character, obviously.” If chat calls him out, he just scoffs, “You think that was my fault? Keep dreaming.” And the mods instantly clear out any “L” spam from chat because he’s already dangerously close to slamming his keyboard.

— His channel has special emotes for when he loses his temper—explosion icons, angry Bakugou faces, and even one of his own “ARE YOU FUCKIN’ KIDDING ME?!” face. Chat spams these whenever he starts heating up, which only fuels his fire.

— His viewers love to try and provoke him. Someone will innocently say, “Hey Dynamight, I think you missed something back there,” and he’ll instantly pause, glare at the screen, and say, “I DIDN’T MISS ANYTHING, DUMBASS, WE'RE MOVING ON.” It’s like a game within the game for his followers. (He goes back to check right after.)

— “Easy mode?” he scoffs at the suggestion. “I’d rather throw myself into a fire than play on easy mode.” Even if he’s dying over and over, he’ll never, ever change the difficulty. Chat has tried for months to get him to switch, but he’s stubbornly loyal to “the only real mode” (aka Hard Mode, Nightmare mode or above).

— If he actually wins a match, he’s unbearable. He’ll sit there, grinning and basking in his victory, smirking at the camera with a smug, “And that, extras, is why I’m better than every single one of you.” Cue chat sarcastically clapping.

— He once had a bet with his mods that he’d try to do a stream without cursing or raging. He lasted five minutes before he exploded, screaming, “THIS GAME IS FUCKING RIGGED!” after an unexpected jump-scare. The mods were dying, and he banned half of them out of spite (they were unbanned five minutes later, but still).

— Every time he’s about to start a new game, he’s got this exaggerated, dramatic intro: “ALRIGHT, EXTRAS, prepare yourselves ‘cause we’re about to dominate the shit outta this game. And if I see anyone backseat gaming, you’re banned. Don’t even THINK about telling me what to do.”

— Every now and then, when he dies for the tenth time in a row, he just deadpans to the camera, “I swear to God, I’m deleting my channel after this.” Chat knows he’s bluffing, but they still spam crying emojis like “NOOO PLEASE DON’T” just to mess with him.

— Every so often, when he’s focused on a tough level, he’ll mutter something like, “Okay, maybe you’re not so bad, chat. Don’t tell anyone I said that,” and the comments absolutely blow up with hearts and “WE LOVE YOU, DYNAMIGHT.” He immediately goes red and yells, “Didn’t mean it, idiots!” but it’s too late.

— Once, he rage-quit a game so hard that his entire setup fell silent. He’d punched the desk, and the screen went black. Chat watched in shock as the stream just… cut off. The clip went viral, with an entire 30-minute compilation titled “Every time Dynamight destroyed his setup” He came back the next day, reacted to it, and you already know he gave the video a thumbs down and left a long hate comment.

— His mods convinced him to play a “relaxing, casual game” that was secretly full of jump scares. The first time it happened, he almost flipped his entire desk. He immediately banned half of his mods and told the rest they were “on thin ice.” Chat still laughs about it every time he plays a “cute” game.

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