SAVIOR - LN4
pt.2
summary : Y/n’s favorite place has quickly become her and Lando’s shared hallway. They grow closer and finally make it to the fresh air.
OG SUMMARY (When y/n’s absent neighbor shows up, causing her great annoyance with smoke and repetitive beeping, she marches over to tell the man off but is met with a handsome face and strong hands that are in distress.)
listen up : no warnings!! y/n is clueless abt f1. lando is silly. i’m craving strawberries now.
word count : 1878
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I haul my five grocery bags into the elevator, struggling to keep them all off the ground. I sigh when I finally still in the metal box, i’ve carried these at least two blocks and one had broken on the way.
The doors are about to close but a hand slides in between them, making them automatically open for him.
Hello my hot mysterious neighbor.
He looks relieved he made it, “Y/n!” He says cheerfully, like we’ve known each other for ages. It’s been a couple weeks since I slammed on his door and stomped through his kitchen.
The other side of the hallway had been quiet until last night when I heard keys rattling and the door opening. I can’t help but wonder what he does that keeps him from home so often.
“Lando, Hi!” I smile back as he slides beside me and presses our floor.
“You need help?” He eyes the bags as I bite my lip, not wanting to bother him. I don’t have the time to respond because he takes three bags out of my hands like it’s nothing.
“Thank you.” I sigh, “I’ve been struggling for like two blocks.” He laughs a bit with me as the numbers get higher and higher.
“I’m happy to help.” We finally reach our floor, Lando watches me go first and walk to my door, unlocking it and walking in.
Lando follows hesitantly, like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed.
“Thank you again! I put myself in a bit of a bind when I decided that my friends need fifteen types of salami and cheese.” I place the bags on the counter, Lando following.
I push back my hair and suddenly wish I had cleaned up a bit more. My friends are coming over tonight and I had decided to push back my cleaning. Looking around at the clothes and old popcorn bowls scattered around makes me want to slap myself.
“Really, I like to lend a hand! I never get to be neighborly.” He shrugs.
“What do you do for work? If you don’t mind me asking?” I start placing the cold items in the freezer.
He leans against the counter, his arms holding him up and looking alarmingly fit, “Uh… You ever follow Formula 1?”
I nod, “Kinda? I used to love it!” My mom and I would watch every sunday but I stopped in college so I don’t know any of the current grid, “So you work in the sport! That’s cool, pretty hands on?” I ask as he laughs a bit, looking awkward.
“Yeah, I work with the cars.” He looks around my place a bit, “So, why does one need this much food? I’m judging or anything it’s just… You don’t seem like the type to need a jumbo sized pretzel bag.”
I smile and snatch the bag from him, “I could definitely eat all of this by the way! But I'm having a bit of a party tonight. If anything’s too loud just let me know! It’s just old friends from college- actually.” I look up at him, a boost of confidence appearing in me, “You could join us. If you’re not busy.”
It suddenly sounds like a ridiculously stupid idea. I turn back to the fridge, placing a bottle of lemonade in it and cringing.
“I would love to.” I let out a sigh of relief, “But I've got plans…” I frown and turn back to him, finally putting away the last of my groceries.
“Aw.”
“It’s really nice of you to invite me.” I smile, a bit sad and confused why I'm disappointed. I mean I barely know the man. “What do you do for work?”
I lean against the counter so I'm across from him, “I’m a writer. Journalism right now but I really want to take a more bookish route…”
He genuinely looks so intrigued, more interested than anyone else who I've told I write articles about neighborhood drama.
He checks his watch, which I'm now realizing is incredibly expensive, and swears, “I gotta go. Have fun with your party tonight.”
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I definitely do have fun. My friends and I eat, drink, and play board games just like we’re back in dorms. I’m seeing my last and closest friend off when Lando comes up the hallway, As my friend's eyes go wide when she sees him, I shake my head.
“Goodbye!” I push her out of my apartment, “Love you!”
“Yeah love you too! Text me!” She walks past Lando, nodding at him before she turns behind his back and mouths ‘he’s hot’.
I roll my eyes at her, a smile still on my face as Lando looks at me. He’s in a full suit, holding his blazer in his hand.
“Fun time then?” God he’s hot!
“Absolutely!” I giggle, a bit tipsy, “How about you then?” I eye his suit.
“As good as I could make it.”
I slap my hand over my mouth, “God you aren’t coming from a funeral then, are you?”
He laughs at this, “No! No. A work banquet thing.”
I giggle a bit as he turns to his door, “Hey!” I say without thinking, “Would you want to come in? I have wine.”
He’s sitting on my couch thirty minutes later, a glass deep and talking about where he’s traveled too.
“That’s my dream!” I say, my feet tucked under myself as I tilt my head on the couch cushions, “Traveling. I mean- You’ve been everywhere!”
He shrugs, sipping his wine, his tie undone and shoes off, “It’s amazing but I'm not there for long so I don’t usually get to sightsee much. Honestly the most interesting thing that’s happened to me recently is this pretty girl came to save my baking disaster.”
I hum to his words, blushing a bit, “Sounds like a hero if i’ve ever heard one.” We both go silent, taking pieces of my leftover charcuterie board. “Should I start watching F1?”
“No!” He says it so quick that i’m taken aback.
“No?”
He laughs a bit, shaking it off, “It’s boring. I can’t have someone else in my life talk about it.”
I spin my wine around in the glass, “So I'm someone in your life now?”
He smirks, “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
I pretend to contemplate this, “I’ve never had a friend who hasn’t gone to the strawberry market with me.”
He makes an odd face, “So we must go then.”
I sigh, “If you want to be my friend…”
The corner of his mouth pulls, “Tomorrow at 9?”
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He’s at my door at 9:12. Thank god he’s late because I hop over to the door, pulling on my shoe and pulling down my jean skirt.
I open the door and stand up straight, smiling breathlessly. He, of course, looks perfect in jeans and an olive green shirt, “Morning.”
“Ready to taste the best strawberries you’ve ever had?” I grab my bag and keys.
“So ready.”
We make it to the market just on time. It’s my favorite neighborhood gem. Every Sunday people gather with strawberries. There are big and small, some covered in chocolate and some in honey.
I buy a box of chocolate ones, well Lando does. He insists that he still owes me. Handing one to Lando with an extra fork, he bites into it, his eyes roll, “Fucking hell.” I nod, excited that he likes them as much as I do.
“My favorite treat! Something you can’t burn your house down with.” I eye him and he eyes me right back. Being with Lando is like a breath of fresh air. I’ve never been so confident in my social skills.
He laughs with a shop owner as he buys his pack of plain strawberries. He's so nice and just listens politely as the woman goes on and on about her childhood on a strawberry farm.
He gives her a bigger bill than necessary and as she insists it’s too much, he just shakes his head and continues walking.
We settle at a park bench nearby, tasting all the pieces we’ve bought, “This is genuinely phenomenal.” He says while eating another, “How’d you find this place?”
“Had to write about something local and had total writers block… I was walking around one day and just sort of stumbled upon it.”
He smiles, I really like this smile. “You seem like the type to just stumble upon a strawberry market.”
I laugh, covering my mouth, “What does that even mean?”
“You’re just so…” His hands make these weird gestures, his fingers moving around as he laughs and gives up, “It just fits.”
I smile, meeting his eyes. They're so nice, a mix of blue and green. His gaze washes over me and I feel the need to smile even more.
“You’ve got nice eyes.” My stomach twists as he says it so calmly, “Real pretty.” I feel a blush on my cheeks and I turn away from him, looking at the park near us and being startled by the child looking up at us.
Lando follows my gaze, mumbling softly, “Shit.”
“Hi.” The kid says awestruck, I look to Lando who’s smiling and sitting up straighter. “Um- Are you Lando Norris?”
Lando scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah I am! What's your name?”
“W-William!” He says, swallowing and pulling a pen from behind his back, “Could you sign this?” I glance to what looks like his mother, she’s watching him with a smile.
Lando simply nods and takes the cap from his head, its bright orange. He signs his name and messes up the kid's hair, “Thanks a lot! My friends’ll never believe it!” The boy squeals and runs back to his mom who waves slightly and takes the boy's hand.
I raise a brow at Lando, still confused, “I’m sorry…” He looks embarrassed but I don’t even know what for.
“I’m going to assume you didn’t tell me the whole truth in what your job is?”
His cheeks get a bit red, “I do work with the cars… Just really close. Like I’m in them. One specifically.”
I nod, “Yours?”
“Mine.” He crosses his arms, his lips in a thin line, “I drive for McLaren.” I breathe out.
“Oh.” I can’t help but think I have a type because I grew up with Jenson Button posters on my wall.
He runs a hand through his curls, “I don’t usually get recognized around here- Thought we would be okay.”
“We are okay!” I reassure him, realizing he’s actually embarrassed, “That was sweet.”
He looks up hopefully, “You think? I’m sorry for lying- I just really liked that you didn’t know who I am or what I do.”
“Well, I sort of still don't. I know your full name now, that’s about it.” He smiles at this, I bite into another strawberry.
“Do you want to go out with me?”
He is yet to say something I'm not shocked at.
“Yeah.” I nod, smiling at him as he grins, “I’d really like that. Don’t you have to race soon though…? Singapore, isn’t it?”
The smirk that pulls at his lips is just plain mischievous, “I never said the date would be here.”
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Bad Guy 1
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: The men your mother brings home rarely stick around, but her latest catch can't seem to unhook himself from your life.
Characters: Destroyer!Chris
Note: I'm going to a physio today for the first time.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
The house is quiet as you come out of your room. The single floor is just enough room for you and your mom. You’ve never needed much else and all your life, you’ve made do with what you have. It’s just the way it is.
You stretch your arms and arch your spine as you stop in the doorway of the kitchen. You yawn. You fell asleep reading outdated discussions about your most recent syndicated obsession. You should know better by now, that thorn in your neck is only driving deeper.
You bend at the elbows to rub your neck and drag your feet over the cold tile. Your nipple poke rigidly against your cropped tank top and goosebumps raze up your bare thighs. You open the fridge and pull out the bottle of orange juice, your panties riding up with your movement.
Before you can stand straight, a sharp strikes snaps against your ass and radiates through your flesh. You yipe and grip the bottle by the neck as you jump and turn to face the culprit. The strange man stares back, his brows twitching.
“Mm, you’re not Gail,” he mutters.
“No, I’m not,” you press the juice to your chest, overly aware of your barely covered body.
You don’t ask who he is. You stopped doing that in middle school. She’s another one of her ‘callers’. You don’t usually see them more than once, if at all. Most leave before you’re awake.
“Was takin’ a piss, heard you skittering around, thought...” he trails off into a shrug.
He’s shirtless too. He only wears a pair of briefs as he stands shameless before you. A dark tattoo covers half his chest and extends around his shoulder and down his arm. It’s the typical snake and skull aesthetic sported by men like him.
“Nope,” you reach for the fridge door and step to the side as you close it.
He doesn’t move. You go to dip around him and he moves with you.
“Taking all that with you?” He points at the bottle. You look down and sigh. You push it towards him. “Here.”
He puts his hand under it and you let go. You skirt around his other side and squeeze through the door behind him. You don’t look back as you flee to your room. You resist the urge to reach back and cover the bottom of your ass, not wanting to draw attention to it if he is watching.
You shut your bedroom door and cringe. Great. You can’t really complain. Your mother hasn’t kicked you out. Yet. Not like half your friends’ parents. She just asks for half the rent and you can manage that. With the rent around here, you’d be on the street otherwise.
You cross the room and flop on the bed. You pull out your phone and go back to scrolling the old discussion boards. It’s funny. The more recent posts are totally contrary to the ones when the show aired. You’re not sure who you agree with.
You roll onto your back and drop your phone to the mattress. You have to work at noon. So much for a relaxing morning. You’ll just be hiding in your room until that man leaves.
A knock jerks you up and you roll your eyes. You search the floor and pull on the wrinkly pajama bottoms. You go to the door and crack it open an inch. It’s him.
“Uh, hi?” You utter dully.
“Got you a glass,” he offers one of the cups in his hands. You squint at it then look him in the face.
“Thanks?” You go to take it but he doesn’t let go as you wrap your fingers around the cold glass.
“There a problem?” He asks.
“Uh, no,” you scrunch your nose. “I said thanks.”
“I don’t like your tone.”
You let go of the glass and retract your hand. His eyes flick down and yours do too. The white tank does little for your modesty. You cross your arms.
“Okay? Well, never mind,” you go to close the door and he steps forward, digging his elbow into the wood as he blocks you with his body.
“Your mom said you’re a nice girl,” he looks you up and down again. “Coulda fooled me walking around like that.”
You frown. It’s your house. Why should you worry about what you’re wearing? Besides, if you knew he was there, then you wouldn’t wander around in your panties.
“Thanks for the orange juice but you should just give it to my mom. That’s why you’re here,” you shrug.
He scoffs. “Got a smart mouth.”
“No, I—I didn’t do anything.”
“There you go again. Disrespectful.”
“Huh?” You shake your head in confusion.
“That way you talk. Low and flat, like you don’t give a fuck. Maybe you don’t. Would explain why you’re grown living in your mommy’s house,” he mockingly pouts.
You blink, “you don’t know me.”
“I know girls like you. Pretending like they don’t care. You care. We both know you do.” He moves a glass closer, “say thank you. Like you mean it.”
“I don’t want it,” you insist.
“Don’t want to waste it. Was it you or mommy who paid for the bottle?” He taunts.
You grit your teeth. What is his problem? Why won’t he just leave you alone?
You deflate. You really just want him to go. You look at the ceiling then back to him. He’s the kind of man you would avoid on the street. His blue eyes are as cold as ice and his hair is shaved, but a little longer on top, and he sports a goatee amid the short stubble on his jaw and cheeks.
“Thank you,” you reach for the glass again.
“Thank you, sir,” his voice grizzles as he corrects you.
You steel yourself and your lips slant. You really just want him to tell him to fuck off but like you always do, you don’t say what you think. You keep it inside. Put on that face that keeps you safe.
“Thank you, sir,” you repeat after him.
“Now smile,” he demands.
You flinch and look away. You take a breath. That’s you’re least favourite, when they tell you to smile. It happens often at your job and it always sours your day.
You force a smile.
“Come on, you can do better,” he snickers.
Your cheeks tremble and your smile falls. You tuck your chin down.
“Can you please just leave me alone?” You mumble.
“Excuse me, girl? I can’t hear you.”
“I said...” your throat locks up and your eyes singe. God! When you get angry, you don’t get bold, you just get teary. You hate it. “I said ‘thank you, sir’.”
You grab the glass so abruptly that it sloshes over the side. You don’t stop, you just spin and throw your weight against the door. He lets it close and it slams. You spill most of the juice down your front.
You hear the friction of his fingers dragging down the wood. It sends a chill through you. You slowly pull away and put the glass down, juice dripping down your arms and chest.
He’ll be gone soon, just like the rest.
💀
Your mom’s still asleep when you leave for work. As you sneak out of your room, you listen for any sign of life. If the man’s there, he doesn’t make himself known. You step into your shoes and leave through the front door without looking back.
You head down the street with your earbuds in, a podcast about an old show you watched in high school droning on, as you take the shortcut behind the house at the end of the street. It’s almost four blocks to work but you save money on bus fare. You try to only waste the change after dark.
The ice cream shop is never very busy outside of the post-soccer game crowds. You take your vigil behind the cold counter and bob along with the radio station’s Top 10 countdown. Miley leans in the corner by the till as she chews gum and scrolls through her phone.
You’re fidgety to do the same, but you hate just letting your eyes glaze over. You pace a bit back and forth until her shift is up. When she’s gone, you feel a little less on edge. You always prefer being alone, you don’t have to worry about performing.
Customers come and go. You greet them with the usual ‘how can I help?’ You’ve never been very good at the customer service part but you’re not rude. You just do your job, which it to scoop ice cream and toss some sprinkles around.
You’re entitled to one cone a shift. You rarely have it. You don’t need the extra sugar or the brain freeze. That day, as you close up, the chocolate peanut butter entices you to go outside your routine. You put the lids on all the canisters except for that flavour and do yourself up a waffle cone before you lock up.
You lick the softening cream and turn to face the dark plaza, lit only by the overhead marquee. There’s a car idling just by the curb. You ignore it. A few neighbouring businesses close up around the same time.
The engine revs, and it jolts forward. The horn nearly has you throwing your cone. You fall back into step and keep walking. The Trans Am continues to follow you and honks again. The window rolls down as someone whistles. Only your name stops you.
You turn and bend to see through the window. What the heck? It’s him. The man that invaded your house and threatened you over orange juice.
You exhale through your nose and stand up. You turn down the pavement and keep going. The bus will be there any moment.
“Hey,” he barks, “get back here.”
You keep going. Why is he there? Because of the orange juice?
The car door opens and closes. You speed up as you hear him following you.
“Your mom sent me to pick you up,” he says.
You snort, “sure she did.”
“Really,” he says as his footsteps echo yours.
“She doesn’t even know when I work,” you keep going and he catches your arm, yanking you back.
You spin to face him and yelp. Your scoop shifts precariously in the cone. You try to pull away but not too hard as you selfishly want to keep your treat intact.
“Alright. I offered. I heard you leave. Figured you could use a lift.” He squeezes and you whimper. “I can be a nice guy.”
Can be.
You wince and flutter your lashes, “can you let me go... please?”
He opens his fingers sharply and lifts his hand, showing his palm. “Since you said please...”
You look over your shoulder then back at him. Finally, you glance at your cone. You weigh your options. You’re not a quick runner.
“I appreciate the ride but--”
“I appreciate the ride, sir. Like I said, I can be nice, but respect is earned, girl.”
You swallow tightly, cheeks pinching.
“Sir, I appreciate the ride but I have money for the bus--”
He clucks and points over your shoulder, “that bus?”
You turn and watch the headlights blow by the stop. You flick your eyes to the sky and face him again. “Mmhmm.””
“So, is that a ‘thank you, sir’ on your lips?” He challenges.
You slant your lips back and forth. You fight back a wave of hot frustration. You’re used to feeling powerless but he is suffocating. You nod.
“Thank you, sir,” you choke out.
“See, not that hard to be a good girl.”
He waits until you move. You head back towards his car, and he gets in the driver side. As you claim the passenger seat, he huffs. He looks at you as you try not to acknowledge him.
“Don’t like food in the car. Try not to get it all over,” he snarls.
“I can--”
“Just be careful,” he snips.
Just be quiet, you tell yourself. You pull the seatbelt down and stare through the windshield. You lick around the cone as the cream threatens to melt onto your fingers. The car idles and you glance over. He watches your tongue as you lap up the trickle.
You sit back as his eyes cling to your lips. He lifts his chin and turns straight. He grips the wheel and cranks the volume on the stereo. He speeds off and you struggle to keep from doing just what he warned you not to. You’d tell him to slow down but not only will he not listen, but the sooner you’re home, the better.
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16 with chan pleasee 🫶🏻🫶🏻 make it as angsty as possible hehe
prompt 16 - “we’re done”
member; Chan
The one thing you thought would never happen with Chan happened. You’ve always thought he was a great guy, never capable of doing anything so low.
You were wrong and you hate that you were, you wish it wasn’t true. It’s sad to think about..the amazing caring Chan cheating on you, with your best friend.
you haven’t talked to him about it but it was clear that you were distancing yourself from him. But he didn’t seem to mind.
It’s been weeks since you’ve last seen chris..your own boyfriend. He hasn’t even been replying to your texts at all and when he did he’d send short answers not even a ´love you’ just a ‘ttyl’. He would rarely send any pictures to show how he was doing or called to hear your voice.
You’re sitting on the couch reading when you hear a knock at the door. You set your book down and walk to the door opening it to see Chan there with a bouquet of flowers, all of the flowers were your favorite colors. “Hey baby” he says walking handing you the bouquet before giving you a short kiss. You just stood there unsure of what to say or do.
you look at the flowers, it was a very pretty arrangement of course but your gut just wouldn’t let you be happy about it. It wouldn’t let you be happy about finally seeing your boyfriend. It wouldn’t let you forget the fact that he cheated on you with your best friend.
You could see the confusion in his eyes as the silence fill the room. “Do you not like them? I can take them back and get different ones.” He says in a hurried manner.
you don’t respond for a moment, your mind running a thousand miles a minute.
You feel tears brim your eyes as you look up at him “you cant just show up to my house…after completely ignoring me for weeks.” Your handd tightening around the bouquet. “Baby..you know I’ve been busy-“ you shove the bouquet back in his hands already having enough of his excuses “busy cheating on me by fucking my best friend?!” You could see the shock in his face “Y/N it’s not like that, I promise you.” He reaches out to you but you move away “I wouldn’t do that to you..”
“but you did, Chris. You did the one thing I didn’t think you would do.”
He stays silent as he sees your state. He could tell you’ve probably already known about it.
“please let me explain…I promise it will make sense.” You clench your fist as he speaks. “You don’t have to.” You say taking a breath before speaking again “we’re done”. The look on Chan’s face breaks you but not as much as it broke you when you found out he cheated.
“you’ve got to be joking, Y/N? Please tell me you’re joking.” He says his eyes tearing up. “Please leave Christopher.” You say looking away from him. “Don’t call me that.” He cringes as you say his government name. You shrug and motion to the door trying to hold back any more tears. “I won’t ask again, leave.” You speak in a stern tone.
“Fine.” You watch as he walks to the door. He stops and tosses the bouquet to you. “I still love you..I did something stupid and yes that was my fault but I never stopped caring for you.” he says before leaving.
You look at the flowers scattered across your floor as you cry. You’d never think you’d care that much about him. Before you could curse yourself for confronting him you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.
You open your phone to see Felix’s messages the number going up every few seconds. Atleast you knew you had someone to talk to.
A/N - I’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted but I tried 😭
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Hi! I wanted to ask something.
Like, most of us knows there are 4 Spiritual Monkeys in the legend(book)... Do the Wukongs and theyr LEM's ever tought about looking for them? Cause mines did and It was chaos
Tongbi: Wait... why there are not other us, Chikao? *Sad precious sunshine noises*
Chikao: We are probably lucky in theyr universes to not having to ature theyr "bullduey"
*Wukong and Liu'er fighting in the most platonic way possible*
(If you are wandering who Tongbi and Chikao are, Chikao = Baboon and Tongi = Gibbon. And both are girls)
Love them and all the different versions people are coming up with! Bonus: the @journeytothewestresearch post about them!
I've been personally calling them "Babs" = Baboon (Chikao mahou, 赤尻馬猴) and "Gibs" = Gibbon (Tongbi yuanhou, 通臂猿猴) as a nickname! XD
My idea is that they are the older of the four *known* celestial primates, with the oldest celestial primate being the since-ascended Shen Monkey who raced for the Jade Emperor.
Tongbi/Gibs has a naturally stretchy body (think like Monkey D Luffy) and is very optimistic. Whilst, Chikao/Babs is more of a realist with the power of reading a person's thoughts/intentions (an interpretation I have for "Understands human affairs,").
My personal hc backstory for them is that;
Tongbi/Gibs was born/hatched along the Heavenly River, her species limbs stretching to allow them to climb, swim and dance between the clouds and astral waterways. She could be considered the "Fresh-Water Monkey" for this reason. Her egg had actually fallen to earth during the Great Flood when the fifth Heavenly Pillar broke, and was found by a tribe of proto-humans (of which Fuxi originated) that raised her as their own. She lived with them for many years before deciding to seek out others of her kind - where upon she met Chikao/Babs
Menawhile, Chikao/Babs was actually born into the Underworld amongst demonkind. Her fellow demons did not understand why she had hatched from a egg-shaped stone that sat undisturbed in the demon-capital city of Youdu for many millennia, but they accepted her as their colleague nonetheless. When Chikao/Babs came of age, she was trained to carry out the duties of a Psychopomp; to gather and bring deceased soul before Yama and the Ten Kings, the same duties as Ox-Head and Horse-Face. She could be considered the "Abyss Monkey" for her gloomy origin.
The two celestial monkeys meet by pure chance when Chikao/Babs herself nearly dies trying to collect the soul of a reluctant water demon. Tongbi/Gibs saved her, and it was love/fascination at first sight like Little Mermaid.
The two female monkeys are soulmates in a yin-yang like dynamic. One stern and aloof, the other silly and expressive. They began seeking out others of their kind almost immediately after meeting - failing until they found a certain little stone monkey being cared for by an old mentor.
I made a joke post a while back about these two finding little Sun Wukong early and raising him as their own, and now I can't stop thinking of it! The Netflix and Smash Legends SWKs are who I most imagine as having the two super-powered moms, but I could def see an AU of Lego SWK having moms. X3
Chikao and Tongbi def be cringing hard at how bad their son is fumbling expressing his feelings for Macaque, and for how bad Macaque is at confronting *his* feelings!
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