#i should write a drabble about this

[sexlapis]

obsessed with the idea of nanami just putting you on his lap whenever he gets the chance 💭

watching tv? you’re on his lap watching whatever he’s watching. working at his desk in his office? you’re on his lap watching him scribbling all over random paper work you couldn’t care less about. you’re playing video games? you’re on his lap just because he wants to watch you play the game you like spending his money on. you’re on the phone? he’s putting you one his lap, so now you’re both on the phone. you’re doing work? yeah, you’re on his lap and his chin is looking over your shoulder to admire your writing. you just got back from work? he’s putting you in his lap and listening to you talk about your boss and annoying coworkers.

just nanami putting you on his lap whenever he wants to!

ps i made a little fic abt it <3

[freaktoru]

cant stop thinking about biker!satoru gojo who just can’t wait till the two of you get home to fuck you. he’ll cut your trip home short, wasting no time before pulling up to the nearest empty parking lot and parking his motorcycle. he’ll impatiently yank your helmets off—letting them drop to the ground, revealing his messy, white helmet hair, right before he urgently presses his lips against yours. it’s not his fault. really, he tried his best to hold himself back, but when he rolled up to pick you up from a night out with your friends and saw you standing there, waiting for him on the side of the road in the skimpiest skirt you could have picked out, he’d completely lost it. it’s a miracle he was able contain himself for this long, because if it weren’t for you being surrounded by your friends, he would’ve fucked you right then and there. it’s also not his fault that you were teasing him at every red light he stopped at, playfully palming his hardening erection through his pants the entirety of the ride home. you clung on to his waist, tightly holding onto dear life as he sped through traffic lights— going way over the legal speed limit until he decided he’d simply had enough of your shit. you’d blame your behaviour on the alcohol coursing through your veins, but he’d blame it on you just being such a needy fucking whore.

satoru was not a patient man—this you knew a little too well. and that’s exactly why you found yourself bent over his sleek white and blue motorcycle in an empty parking lot, your skimpy skirt bunched up around your waist, panties pooled around your ankles, and eyes rolled to the back of your head while biker!satoru splits you open with his cock. "nngh f-fuck satoru s-slow down, please" you moaned desperately, unable to keep up with his frantic, impatient pace. "slow down? i can't slow down baby, not when you feel this fucking good" he drawled in reponse, breathing heavily, while drilling into you so deep you could practically feel your cervix bruising. "s-satoru— fuck" you whimpered, your warm walls clenching around his cock so tightly, inching you closer and closer to your sweet release by the second. "yeah sugar, fuck— you're such a good girl, taking my cock so well" he'd mutter, the sound of his honeyed voice sending pulsing shockwaves of pleasure through your body. and he'd continue fucking you stupid in this deserted parking lot, until you've both orgasmed at least once, twice maybe even three times. then you'd speed home on the back of his motorcycle, watching gojo weave through traffic, so he could get home a little faster and fuck you again.

[prythianpages]

I’m catching up with work stuff but…I can’t help but think Cassian would be the type to “fight” with your daughter on who gets to cuddle you.

“She’s my mate.”

“She’s my mommy.”

“I loved her first.”

“Well, I love her more,” she’d respond with a pout and cute stomp of her foot.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah-huh.”

And it just ends with all 3 of you cuddling (you in the middle of course.)

[teddybeartoji]

office au! with coworker!gojo

he's the type to always be a little late. by a little, i of course mean a lot. he always bursts in the door with the biggest smile on his lips and four coffees in his hand. he winks at his coworkers, who then always blush and giggle out a hi, satoru! and you always roll your eyes at that. satoru nods his male coworkers, who always try to dap him up and start a conversation but he doesn't have time for that. he has things to do. (as if he isn't literally Late smh)

he answers the guys' question while he's walking – his eyes set on his favourite coworker. you. sitting in your cubicle, you're trying to ignore him and his dramatic enterance. that he does every single day. how annoying can he be? before you can roll your eyes again, a cup of coffee has landed on your table, making you glance over your shoulder.

he's blinding you, his grin is stretched so wide it's almost a bit creepy. he's standing right behind you, leaning his hand on your table right next to where he just placed the coffee. he's way too close for a co-worker and you gulp.

ugh.

"aren't you gonna thank your favourite coworker for bringing you coffee? whew, tough crowd, huh." his smile doesn't falter and he just leans in closer, his cologne clouding your senses.

UGH.

and he really does do it every single fucking day. he brings you coffee and he annoys you and he makes your eyes roll so hard you almost go blind and you hate to admit that he's kinda cute... it's whatever.

back to the coffees. so one of them is for you – he knows your order because he dug out the receipt from your bag when you weren't looking on his second day there. he almost got caught, too. but he only did that because you didn't wanna tell him your order!! and he was so insistent on bringing you coffee that he just had to find another way. he loved the way your eyes widened and how you tried to mask your surprised expression but nothing gets past his keen eyes. when you asked how he did it, he just told you that he guessed it. yeah, right....

the second coffee is for him. it's an insanely sweet latte. how do you know? he made you try it. more liked begged for you to try it. you also hate to admit that his puppy-dog eyes worked on you... he only drinks the special latte from the corner coffee shop and he refuses to drink the office "coffee". he's fancy like that.

the third coffee is for his second favourite coworker – kento nanami! they sure make an interesting pair. kento is the main reason why satoru even got the job. the latter begged him to pitch for him to the boss; he was so excited by the concept of Office Work and just had to try it out. he, of course, passed the interview with flying colors and kento regrets his decision to "help" him out in the first place. satoru yaps his ears off whenever he isn't doing the same to you and he's constantly leaving little notes for the man. you once saw one and it just had a miniature penis drawn on it. very mature.

and the fourth coffee is for your boss. satoru isn't sucking up like you originally thought he was. you think he just wants to bring her coffee? your boss is cool – she's in her forties and she has a strong voice, everybody always listens to her and she really does make for a very good boss. your guess is that satoru has a crush on her. (you're wrong. he also just thinks she's super fucking cool. literally nothing else to it.)

he's always wearing a fancy white button-up with a black tie loosely hanging around his neck and a pair of matching black slacks that hug his thighs so nicely that the women and the men of the office are always finding it hard to not stare at them. he gets an obnoxious ego boost from this.

he's constantly leaning on other people's desks, pushing his hips out and it really is hard to concentrate whenever he does it. the pose and the smug smirk he sends you when he catches you looking is making you feel hot. he always catches you too, it's so annoying. why can't he just continue doing whatever he's doing so you can admire him in peace?

he's loud, he's annoying and he's so fucking good at his job that firing him couldn't even be a passing thought. he actually does his paperwork rather fast; often finishing before you and that gives him the time to tease you for being slow. he does that way less than you expected though. only a few times in a day – enough to annoy you but never enough to actually make you upset or angry. he actually helps you sometimes. he can tell you don't wanna ask and he doesn't wanna make you feel bad - he'd rather watch you roll your pretty eyes at his stupid jokes with a small hidden smile than roll them with a deep frustrated sigh. he learned that the hard way.

he loves your smile. more often than not you can't keep the straight face you try to put up with him, making your loud laughter resonate throughout the whole office. oh, how his eyes shine at that.

long story short. he's infuriating. he's funny. he's way too good at his job. he's way too handsome. you loathe working with him and yet, you can't stop smothering him in kisses whenever you two "happen" to meet in the printer room.

[thedelicatearcher]

i love when on catching fire after katniss' leg injury, she spends days with peeta working on the herbal book. and now i can't stop thinking about an alternate universe where katniss is a writer and peeta is her illustrator

[calebsanchor]

Caleb would 100% play LPS with you if you asked him to

[woobiedoovo]

I saw someone post about the stanwich but instead of Stan and Ford competing over Fiddleford it’s Fiddleford and Ford competing over Stan and it’s making me feral.

There’s just so many possibilities with this.

Like with the Mystery Trio AU-

Imagine Ford contacts Stan to help him and Fiddleford dismantle the portal. Stan comes, obviously, and is greeted by his brother and a random southern man? Ford introduces him as his ‘lab partner’ but Stan is skeptical.

A lab partner who you live with in the middle of the woods, with no one else around for miles? Yeah, Stanford. Totally.

(In reality they’re really not together, at least not romantically. I honestly see Fiddauthor as more in a queer platonic relationship more than anything.)

He starts to help the two dismantle the portal, but he can’t really do a lot besides move around heavy pieces (he never even graduated Highschool, what did they expect?) but dammit, he does his one job and he does it well. The entire time he’s oblivious to the two pairs of eyes hungrily watching him as he grunts and groans under the heavy pieces of metal. How he wipes the sweat off his brow with his shirt, revealing his soft stomach. How his muscles flex as he once again moves some random machinery that didn’t actually need to be moved, they just wanted to watch Stan do it.

I need these two needs thirsting over this absolute disaster of a man.

[inkie-does-whump]

I'm honestly shocked I've gotten more than one shortgrass (Bdubs/Joel) request lol

[enhaflixer]

lhs - under the covers. TEASER

AN E2L UNDERCOVER COPS FAKE MARRIAGE AU | SMUT-HEAVY TEASER - NOW POSTED HERE

"If this is fake, then why are you begging?"

summary: you’ve never liked lee heeseung. he’s cold, unreadable, and way too good at his job—so of course, the captain decides to partner you with him for an undercover op that requires you to be married.

the rules are simple: go undercover. pretend to be in love. don’t actually fall for him.

except now he’s pinning you against a wall, calling you ‘sweetheart’ in that low, amused drawl, and touching you like he means it.

…so, yeah. this might be a problem.

genre: slow burn | enemies to lovers | undercover cops | fake marriage | SUGGESTIVE CONTENT word count: ~around 20K release date: TBA ⚠️ warnings 18+ MDNI: guns, violence, smut, tension, heeseung being annoyingly attractive while pretending not to care, reader being an absolute menace back, dangerous men doing dangerous thingshate sex but it turns into something desperate & messy, heeseung has a gun AND a filthy mouth (both are dangerous), "you need to stay quiet" but he makes it impossible, heeseung likes pushing you against walls (sometimes to protect you, sometimes not), explicit descriptions of tension: prolonged eye contact, teasing touches, and not-so-fake kisses that turn heated way too fast, sex as a distraction? sex as an argument? sex as a mistake? sex as an act? all of the above., one bed trope but make it fully unhinged (heeseung smirking when you wake up wrapped around him), heeseung is smug, teasing, and cocky in the streets but a menace in the sheets, "you said this was just for the mission. so why do you keep touching me when no one’s looking?", breathplay, lets keep it rough, ppl like it that way

-

This was supposed to be just another mission.

A simple cover-up. Blend in. Get close. Play the part.

Which is why you’re currently pinned against the wall of a dimly lit hotel room, Lee Heeseung’s hand wrapped tight around your throat.

His body is pressed against yours, his breath warm against your cheek, his voice lower than you’ve ever heard it.

"Stay still," he murmurs. Like he actually expects you to listen.

Your heartbeat is pounding, your breath coming out in short, sharp exhales. You hate him. You hate the way he’s looking at you, like he’s studying you, calculating, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

But then his fingers curl—slow, deliberate—and your body betrays you.

You choke back a gasp, your fingers digging into his shirt, and Heeseung—the smug bastard—smirks.

"Thought so," he mutters.

You should stop this. This is just an act.

Except you don’t stop him.

Not when his grip tightens around your throat. Not when he rocks his hips forward, just to hear your breath hitch. Not when he murmurs, "You were running your mouth all night. Where’d all that attitude go, Doll?"

Your nails dig into his wrist. "Fuck you."

"You first."

And then he kisses you.

It’s not gentle. It’s not careful. It’s months of built-up tension, every sharp word and heated stare and unsaid thought spilling out all at once.

Heeseung kisses you like he wants to break you. Like he wants you to feel him everywhere.

Like he’s been waiting for this.

Your back hits the wall harder as his grip on your throat tightens, fingers flexing like he owns you. His knee presses between your thighs, forcing them wider.

"You’re supposed to be my wife." His voice is mocking, teasing. Mean.

Your breath is shaky. "And you’re supposed to be pretending."

His smirk fades.

"You think I’m pretending?"

Your stomach twists.

Because this isn’t pretend anymore.

The way his hands grip your waist, pushing up your dress. The way his breath hitches when your nails rake down his back. The way his mouth trails down your throat, hot and desperate.

Heeseung isn’t faking this.

And neither are you.

But neither of you stop.

Not when he hoists you up against the wall, one arm under your thighs. Not when his voice turns hoarse, needy, against your skin. Not when you whisper, "You hate me," and he exhales a low, broken,

"Not tonight."

TAGLIST: OPEN! reply to be added!

[mosaickiwi]

Sick Nasty

Rendacted is (love) sick who cares if it's cute and weird get him to a doctor!!! Kinda drabble. GN reader.

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~

You wanted to surprise your boyfriend early in the morning to get breakfast, but he didn't answer the door. He hadn’t responded to your text messages either. So you simply used the key he’d given you months ago to let yourself in. But instead of finding him awake and distracted by something else, a concerning sight greeted you in his bedroom.

[REDACTED] was splayed out face down on one side of his mattress, in an unusually deep sleep. His tank top had ridden up a little, exposing his lower back. One tattooed arm dangled off the edge of the bed, while the other was slung over a body pillow—decorated with a particular sweatshirt you hadn't seen in a while. That didn't actually concern you too much. What did, however, was the strange halo of plushies and more of your clothes stacked around his head. Several hoodies, another sweatshirt, and some sweatpants that you'd left for whenever you were staying the night encircled his dark hair like a summoning ritual.

You looked down at him with mixed feelings, but silently pulled out your phone anyway. "At least I have evidence of your crimes now," you hummed while snapping a few photos. Once that was taken care of, you bent down and shook his shoulder. He felt surprisingly hot. 

He mumbled and rolled onto his side, disturbing his shrine. His blue eyes were clouded as he roughly pushed his messy bangs back. He sucked in a breath before giving you a tired smile. "Oh, Angel? G'morning," he yawned. As he sat up and stretched, he looked down at the clothes and stuffed animals strewn across his sheets. It took a moment for his eyes to widen a fraction, as if he wasn't quite sure he was awake yet. "Shit. I can explain."

You ignored him and grabbed both his cheeks, worriedly studying his face. He immediately drifted into careful silence at your touch, eyelids fluttering closed. His skin felt like it was on fire. There was a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. And despite just waking up from what must've been a coma, he looked exhausted, the bags under his eyes far worse than usual.

A frown pulled at your lips. "You're sick."

"I was going to wash them," your tired boyfriend mumbled in a hazy voice, his head falling forward slightly. "The scent just helps me sleep—"

"I'm not talking about my clothes, you thief. You have a fever,” you emphasized and pulled away, standing back up. He whined in disapproval, leaning forward to follow your retreating hands. You held still so he’d calm down before continuing, “Do you have any medicine here? I’ll have to go to the pharmacy if not.” 

“I don’t think so. ‘Can go with you.” He weakly tugged you close and pressed his head against your stomach.

“No.”

You felt him groan into your shirt, “I’ll wait in the car.”

“You can wait in your bed.”

“Angel, please. Y'hurting me.” He squeezed a little tighter, but you knew it’d be much easier than normal to get out of his grip.

Even so, you relented with a fake sigh. Letting him have his way at the moment would hopefully make him more agreeable later. “I can just get it delivered. Scoot over,” you demanded and gently nudged him. He excitedly moved away to make room as you crawled onto the covers. You made a point of gathering all your clothes into a pile at one corner of the bed. They’d have to be dealt with later. “Since you’re sick, I won’t take these back just yet.”

[REDACTED] innocently smiled—without even a hint of shame—but didn’t say a word. Instead, he draped himself over your lap to relish in his victory. You sat back and scrolled through your phone to place the delivery order. It didn't take long.

“We’ve got 20 minutes. Can you try to be a bit more reasonable by then?” you asked and dropped your phone to the side. You busied yourself with his hair, threading through the dark strands as he closed his eyes.

He barely mumbled a ‘hmm’ in response, much too content with your fingers massaging his scalp. Unfortunately for his immune system (and your legs), he had no intentions of getting out of your lap.

[crispy-art-on-fire]

In any of your AUs, do you think Bumblebee and Soundwave would ever fight over the title of "best brother" to Sari? Lol

To Sari? No. In Calculated Love Soundwave still has a bias against her for being made as her toy while in Shattered Glass Goldbug has pretty thoroughly ruined his relationship with Sari.

[cupcakewebkinz]

3 Am Kai Thoughts

Literally just somethin I was like,,, half awake thinking about tbh...

Why don't people think more about how unconventional the toon's coping mechanisms would be-? Like, in general-

They would be so horrible at self soothing because they were never made to experience hardships, they were just children's entertainers after all. I highly doubt either Arthur or Delilah would be like,,, We need to teach them how to cope with negative emotions too in case something happens. They have handlers to make sure the toons don't stress, they are watched over well from what we know, there's rules in place so they don't have to witness many horrors while GV is running.

GIVE ME MORE OF THESE BUFFOONS COPING LIKE KIDS WOULD TO HIGH LEVELS OF STRESS AUGHHHH

LET THEM HAVE TODDLER MELTDOWNS, LET THEM SUCK ON THEIR THUMBS, LET THEM BE CHILD-LIKE IN ATTEMPTS TO SELF SOOTHE

LET ME NOT BE THE ONLY ONE WHO'S THINKING ABOUT THIS REALITY PLEASE-

Thanks for reading I hope I made sense goodbye *combusts*

[prythianpages]

thinking about the New Year’s Eve trend where you go under the table (also I always grew up hearing that going under the table will bring you a luck in finding a partner but now I see the trend is to go under the table and eat 12 grapes so now idk what the actual tradition is lol, anyways back to my little thought):

You made sure to have the grapes ready at this year’s NYE, talking excitedly about the man you want to manifest with Nesta…who knows what she’s doing and suggesting traits that tease at Azriel. Cassian thinks it’s hilarious and he is also excited to see if you’ll actually be able to devour all 12 grapes so fast, already placing bets with Feyre.

Meanwhile, Azriel, who is madly crushing on you, watches from his corner of the room. He thinks it’s just all fun and games…this can’t really work, right? I mean, why would it work? There’s no real magic behind this…

But then Mor casually brings up that she had done this one NYE and it brought her, her most memorable fling and she sighs wistfully…panic begins to stir in Azriel.

The clock is ticking…

Azriel’s shadows begin to dance frantically around him, mirroring his inner turmoil as the inner circle prepares to cheer you on.

His eyes widen when you scoop a couple of grapes into your hand because Mother above, you’re actually going to do this and what if it actually works and he never gets a chance to confess…

10…9…8…

Azriel suddenly appears at your side, wings knocking awkwardly against the table, his shoulder bumping yours as he makes himself fit in that small space.

“Az, what are you—“

“I have to tell you something.”

“Right now??”

7…6…

Azriel reaches for your hand, the one that is holding onto a handful of grapes, and lowers it. A confused frown settles on your features and he coaxes your gaze to his with his other hand, eyes searching yours.

“Az—“

5…4…

The hand clutching the handful of grapes twitches in his grip, still determined to complete the tradition.

3…2…

But Azriel tightens his hold and wastes no more time. He leans in, crashing his lips against yours and pulling you into a frantic but sweet kiss.

“Happy new year!”

When he pulls away, your cheeks are flushed and eyes are wide but there’s a smile on your face. “What else do you have to tell me?”

Azriel only grins and says “so much more,” before kissing you again.

[owl-bones]

I mean, in defense of people who are hesitant about trusting fae dream... he did turn someone into an exotic pet before.

that didn't actually happen, that was just a drabble i developed and people asked for elaboration on sldfjlsfjs. it's technically a non-canon event, it's just on the blog and tagged and all that because it's still a (hypothetical) part of the story and there's some characterisation stuff in there. but the MC wasn't his pet, they were just a bird for the deal to work. he still treated them like a member of his court.

and i get where people are coming from, but if you're hesitant about trusting Dream you should extend that hesitancy to all the fae. especially Nightmare. between the two of them Nightmare is far more likely to trick you into a deal that you don't like, or that causes you to lose something of importance. it's just that nobody's asked about anything like that, so all they've seen is Dream being the poster-child for fae shenanigans lskdfjlsdsljfkd

like. Blue is the 'nicest' fae out of all of them when it comes to avoiding deals and giving humans leeway and helping them out, but that doesn't make Dream the worst (that'd be Killer)

tricks and wordplay are a major part of fae stories, and to ignore them completely to sanitise the characters and make them more approachable is disingenuous. Dream's a nice, friendly guy, yes, but he's still a fae and will trick you. Nightmare is cold and aloof but fair, and he will also trick you. Dream's not the bad guy, there is no bad guy, that is just their nature ദ്ദി ꒦ິ꒳꒦ິ )✧

[kinardsevan]

3 & 26 and I already know you're probably gonna make it hurt ❤️

.... (oops?)

“How dare you keep this from me!” Evan yells at Tommy from across the room. And the thing is, Tommy is trying to find the words to counter, but no part of this entire process has been easy. 

“Evan,” he rasps from the bed. His fingers twitch against the light blanket on top of his body, not that it’s doing anything to keep him warm. Granted, nothing really ever does anymore, so he shouldn’t really be surprised. 

“Don’t,” the younger man growls at him, angry tears running down his face. “Do not play that card now. How dare-… how dare you, Tommy.” 

Tommy gulps and lifts his fingers, trembling as they are, and reaches out for Evan across the room. “Please?” 

Evan shakes his head even as his feet move beneath him, until he’s standing next to the bed. He squeezes Tommy’s fingers—they’re too cold—in one hand as the other cups his face. He tries to ignore how sallow the man’s cheeks are, how much more prominent it makes the hard edges of his face. 

“I would’ve been here for you,” Evan states, squeezing his fingers tighter. 

“You didn’t deserve to have to watch this,” Tommy counters, leaning into the heat of Evan’s hand against his face. 

“So you tell me that you can’t be my last and then fuck off for six months instead of letting me lo-…” He has to force a few breaths down, blinking away more tears. “I would’ve given the next sixty years if it meant I got to keep loving you for another five minutes. God damn it, Tommy, I trusted you.” 

Tommy gulps, staring up at him. He squeezes Evan’s fingers back, although it’s far weaker than it used to be. 

“I’ve never been very good at that,” he rasps. “Letting people love me. Childhood trauma or something like that.” 

“Stop,” Evan admonishes him wetly. “You’re not funny.” 

Tommy leans into his palm a little more, pulling his fingers from Evan’s to lift to his face. They’re still not warm, but they’re at least warmer. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” he answers softly. 

“I would’ve loved you through it,” Evan rasps, his throat tight. “Even if-…I would’ve- you- you didn’t have to be alone through it.” 

“I didn’t want to hold you back from finding someone who will be there after,” Tommy tells him. “From not getting hung up on this.” 

Evan laughs as more tears come down his face, although it quickly fades into a sob. 

“Hung up? You mean being so in love with you that I had an entire future planned in my head after six months? The house, the kids, the dogs? With or without you there, I was always going to grieve those plans,” Evan tells him. “Don’t devalue what we had by calling your life something I got ‘hung up’ on. I love you.” 

Tommy gulps, nodding after a moment. 

“I know it’s not much at this point,” he answers after a moment. “But if you still wanted-..” 

“Every fucking second,” Evan cuts him off. He surges forward and presses his lips against Tommy’s. The other man’s lips are dry and chapped, so unlike what he could still call up in his memory, but Tommy keeps him close even as Evan shifts and kisses his forehead before resting his head against Tommy’s. “I’ll be here every second, baby, until-…” 

Tommy lifts his hand to where Evan’s is still against his face and squeezes it gently. “Until.” 

[3mma-d0esstvff]

Skybound drabble | angst?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Nya felt sick. Sick from this god awful place.

She felt like that stupid dress was way too big on her, yet it felt like it was crushing her ribs. She felt small in this god forsaken room she has been trapped in, yet she felt like the walls were closing in on her.

She hated this, all of this.

Why did she have to be in this situation out of everyone? What sins has she committed that FSM has decided to punish her by putting her in this hellhole. How come destiny hate her so much. But that's how it always has been.. Right?

Destiny always fucked things up a bit but she and the guys deal with it and everything turns ok. And just like always, everything will turn back ok, all Nya had to do is.. Wait...

She had to wait... Wait in the room she has been trapped in, wait while trapped in the hands of Nadakhan, wait for someone, anyone, to come and save her.

Letting out a small sigh, her thoughts still running faster than Nya would like, she sat back down on the bed. This... This is ok, right? The whole kidnapping and being forced to marry a 500 year old Djinn at the ripe age of 15 thing. Sure, for the nornal day to day civilian no, but she was no normal civilian. She was a ninja, an elemental master, chosen against her will by destiny itself. Was this normal for elemental masters before her? Had her mother or her father been in such sticky situation? If only they were still.... She could've asked them. But they aren't in her life anymore, they weren't for a long time now. But.. Would've been nice to know, to be reassured about her situation.

Nya couldn't do anything anymore, it was all up to the others now. All she could do now was look out the caged windows and wish on the First Master that Jay or Kai or anyone would find her, get her out and that everything will turn just fine.

Because everything does. Everything always turns out fine.