#max caulfield fanfic

[inky-snowdrop]

Two Pairs of Star-Crossed Lovers

A Life Is Strange and Until Dawn Oneshot/Poem

Pairings: Chloe Price/Max Caulfield (Pricefield), Chris Hartley/Josh Washington (Climbing Class)

Rating: T (13+)

(canon typical violence)

Originally Posted on Ao3: May 16th, 2019

🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers

See the butterfly drift away with the breeze,

It’s wings beating lightly and without a sound,

Causally and lazily making it’s way out of their view.

Amongst the broken bottles and sweet grass,

Strewn out against the snow and wooden totems,

They laugh and flash toothy grins,

The tiny insect quickly forgotten as the sun begins to set.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers

Share a past prior to the events that have yet to unfold,

Becoming friends,

Accomplices to each other’s crimes,

As children, no less.

Blue permeates the soul’s of these children;

Two the color of the purest sky reflecting the bay’s water.

The others, an indigo darkness shrouded by fog and smoke

Hidden high in the mountains.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers,

Guardians of the light in the human spirit

And the darkness in the human soul.

Two within the past,

Changing what could not be changed

And visiting planes of reality not yet discovered nor explored by humankind.

Magic, the most pure and yet deadly kind, is their ally.

Two predicting the future,

Choices that seem small and insignificant

Carving into the lives of every person upon the accursed land.

Not magic, oh no.

Curses linger near, always watching, always listening.

Ghosting across the physical and mental worlds like a disease ready to take hold.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers,

From across the harbor and into the town,

Filled with a sticky heat and the smell of fire making love to the Earth,

Comes a celestial being and her magnificent gifts.

Powerful is she,

Auburn hair angular and good,

Time and space lingering upon her fingers.

She knows not how this power came to be hers,

And yet it still chose her.

Her other,

For there is always another,

Is a fallen angel,

Giant wings of butterfly blue growing from her spine and drifting into her hair to ravage wildly about her pale face.

They, the chosen and her angel, embody the world of the past,

Bravely trusting Fate herself to bring their dreams of being together to the light of day.

Sadly, Fate tends to have a sense of humor.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers,

Hailing from the frost lands of the North,

Where it is not uncommon for men, women, and children to betray their human nature,

A puppeteer watches quietly from the shadows as his trap has been laid.

Revenge plays heavily upon his string pulled mind,

Smile charming and deceiving, eyes shining and full of suffering,

None can see behind the laughs;

None can see the hatred that boils within.

Mistake number one.

The other,

Trusting and naive,

Hopelessly in love though destiny dictates otherwise,

Can read through the strings and gauze of his partener like one might read a book.

A ghost of his former body,

Sorrow binding and chaining him down to the Earth as he desperately claws for breath though he cannot give up hope;

He must never rest.

For what friend (what partener) would he be if he abandoned the puppeteer now?

Mistake number two.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers,

Each trapped forever,

In a never ending cycle of

What is,

What was, and

What will be.

Or, perhaps the most daunting of all,

What COULD be.

All four trapped in a web of their own design,

The vibrant azule wings that once held the aloft ripped and mangled at their feet.

All four embracing the storm that howls and shrieks at them,

Faces flushed from fear of the unknown and voices hoarse from screaming back at the wild rain and snow.

All four bonding through a love created in the innocence of childhood that was cultivated and fed as they aged;

The effects of their death-marked love not only echoing about their bedrooms with sighs and gasps, but also out into other places and other realities that go on forever.

All four sharing an early grave;

Hair wet and lips cracked and bleeding;

A concussed head and crushed limbs, if not completely ripped from their original homes.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers,

Destinies changing as rapidly as the wind changes course.

And as the storm dies, the screeching lowering to a hum during the afterglow of it’s rage,

It takes with it the souls of two of the children, their bodies physically broken or mutated beyond repair

And it takes the remaining children’s spirits, leaving them behind sobbing and hallowed remains of the people they used to be.

Forever craving,

Forever yearning,

Forever alone.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers

Await the beat of the butterfly’s wings

As the sun begins to rise,

Praying that the storm that will soon follow will not be their last.

And,

If it is,

Try to find solace in each other’s arms

One last time.

🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦

🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀

[smt-obsessed]

Max Caulfield

☆ 18 ☆ infp ☆ virgo ☆ 5'5 ☆

Each symbol portrays a different genre.

💋= smut, 🚨= angst, 👑= darkfic,

🩹= sickfic, 🧸= fluff, 🌦= hurt/comfort

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☆ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

HEADCANNONS

Nothing yet...

ONE-SHOTS

Nothing yet...

SERIES

Nothing yet...

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☆ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

✰Masterlist✰

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

[thepricebechloe]

Do you wanna know what's better than one beanie baby? TWO BEANIE BABIES!!

I'M VERY EXCITED FOR THIS GAME TO COME OUT!!

[ap41cu5]

i just finished life is strange and my brain chemistry is permanently altered oh my gof 😭😭😭

immediately fell in love with warren graham tho he's so silly I love him <33

might start taking requests for him tbh :0 i love how nerdy and selfless he is

[krysto-art]

"Max… you okay?" It was Chloe. I'd somehow made my way unsteadily through the trees to where she sat. A blue jay scratched at the ground nearby, its brilliant plumage matching her short blue-dyed hair. "No... I don't know," I replied, my voice cracking.

I stood on the bluff, letting the sea breeze fill my lungs as I gazed up the coastline, hoping for a glimpse of Arcadia Bay.

TV and rescue helicopters circled like gnats in the far distance.

All was quiet except for the wind and the faint rolling surf below. Even the animals had fallen silent.

I gasped in surprise as Chloe's arms encircled me from behind. Distracted as I was, I hadn't heard her come over. She let out a soft breath and rested her chin on my shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered.

****

I finished this a few years ago. Rough pencils with digital colours done in Sketchbook on my phone.

The mini story is from a fanfic I wrote in 2015 (kristos on ao3)

[druh19]

༝ Life is Strange Icons & Headers |like and reblog if saved|

[beforeimdeceased]

ellie williams, newest student at blackwell academy? 🪵🦋🌪️ (moodboard)

[maiaxoxo2]

when the fanfic title is a verse from any queer artists you know its about to eat

[cyramountain]

Life is Strange Fancast:

Max Caufield played by Maya Hawke

Chloe Price played by Emma Mackey

Victoria Chase played by Peyton List

Kate Marsh played by Eliza Scanlen

Warren Graham played by Nick Robinson

Frank Bowers played by Max Theirot

Nathan Prescott played by Froy Gutierrez

[kalonicc]

Pricefield Commision!

Commission from @charles12-13 based on his fanfic :)

[tbunnyart]

Here's a nice scene from @charles12-13 fanfic this action will have unforeseen consequences

Recommend it!

[mediocrewallflow3r]

To Be Loved and Have Loved - (Nathan Prescott/ AFAB Reader) Pt. 1

Title: To be Loved and Have Loved

Part 1, Part 2

Pairing: Post-Storm Nathan Prescott/ Female Reader

Rating: Explicit- minors shoo!

Word Count: 1.7k

Content/Warnings: A continuation to @delopsia 's "To Build A Home", takes place directly after, Sloppy makeouts, Light Dom/sub, Good Nathan Prescott, Life is Strange Comic Lore, post-storm, Nathan ruining his Father's dining room out of spite, plus size! reader, Nathan being soft for only the reader, Aftercare, slight subspace, future Metallica References, Nathan Prescott Needs a Hug, Praise Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual, Fluff and Smut.

A/N: Hi there my lovelies! It’s been a long while. I’ve been away improving my art in college, trying to improve at writing, and becoming a part of the Tumblr community. This is a continuation of https://www.tumblr.com/delopsia/672519407059222528/to-build-a-home?source=share and will be posted in parts. Pre-writing and posting I reached out to Del and got permission to continue their lovely fic. I’m honored that I can post my writing in addition to theirs! Feedback is very appreciated and please go check out Del!

"Why do I get the feeling that you're planning something devious?" You chirp as the two of you begin walking to your car.

"How do you feel about joining me for a secret rendezvous in my father's precious dining room?".

"Why most definitely my good sir!" you gallantly respond, curtsying for dramatic effect.

"You're a fucking weirdo, you know that right?" Nathan says, shaking his head incredulously. Though, you can see the blush dusting his pale ears.

The stars above twinkle brightly in the suburban sky while you and Nathan pile into your car, excitement buzzing between the both of you.

After turning the ignition, Nathan's hand gently reaches over and squeezes your thigh. His nimble fingers toy with the tights almost bursting because of your larger thighs.

"What's that for, cowboy?".

You watch as his bright blue eyes meet yours, amusement painting his features.

Nathan adverts his gaze from the stars and meets your eyes. "Nothing in particular, nerd," Nathan smirks under your intense gaze.

Huffing, you pull out of the old church parking lot. You see in the corner of your eye Nathan waves to a few people. A smile graces your lips at the thought he considers some survivors worthy of a wave now.

Driving through the back roads of Arcadia Bay proves interesting, many broken limbs and scrap are still littering the road- hindering the ability of drivers. You try not to think about the families that may have not survived while you drive past crushed homes.

From what you've heard, Max and Chloe have found a place closer to the remnants of downtown Arcadia. According to Victoria, Max is even collaborating with her art gallery in New York. She mentioned something about Chloe working up to being a small-town mechanic. You try not to think about Mark Jefferson's ongoing trial.

"What're you thinkin' so hard about, little doe?" Nathan questions, gently. His thumb tugs and twists at your tights fervently.

"Our friends." You sigh.

"Pfftt- we have friends? Since when?".

"Since you got off your high horse and we started leaving our home more,".

Nathan tugs your tights in retaliation, snapping them back loudly for effect.

"Don't get bratty with me, Y/N, you know better,".

"That's ironic coming from you, Mr. 'The Prescott’s rule this town!'".

Nathan laughs, a real goofy laugh, his canine teeth shining bright in the moonlight.

He rolls down the windows, whooping and hollering, suddenly. Your eyes can't stray away from his strawberry-blonde hair swirling around in the breeze.

"Yeah, I'd fucking suppose so!" He shouts back over the loud wind.

Giggling quietly, your eyes catch a glance of the Prescott Manor gate between the dark trees causing you to pull into the long-winded driveway subsequently. The lights are off, as per usual. You allow yourself to enjoy the cold night air like the person beside you in the vehicle.

Hesitantly, you pull into the garage. The lights automatically turn on brightly, allowing you to see the drywall- that you know must cost more than your entire tuition. The old Nathan would have pretended not to see your shaking hands gripping the steering wheel tight, but this one can't and won't miss that shit.

Surprisingly, Nathan begins to lean over the center console, his hand moving from your thigh to gently squeeze your hand. In the corner of your eye, you see his normally death-worthy stare turn soft.

"You can relax baby, I don't care if you hit the drywall. I've done it before for fucks sake!".

"You noticed?".

"How could I have not? You're shaking like a goddamn leaf.".

You purse your lips, nodding. You know Nathan is right, but the one interaction you experienced with his father sits heavy in your mind. The anxious silence stretches whilst Nathan begins to gather your coats and other belongings from the back seat.

You hear the click of the passenger door opening and then Nathan speaking gently to you, "Let's go, weirdo.". On autopilot, you open the car door and begin walking towards the Manor doorsteps. Nathan, much further ahead of you, shifts through his keys looking for the correct one. After a few moments, you hear a quiet "a ha!" When he finds the right key.

Nathan pushes the door open with you wandering close behind him. He hits the main hallway light switch. Both of you take off your shoes in comfortable silence. You were taking much longer, the converse adorning your feet proving difficult to take off quickly.

Then, Nathan's sharp cupid bow is kissing your ear, and his rough hands gently squeeze your shoulders. "We don't have to do this tonight," he whispers into the dusted pink shell of your ear.

Oh God, but I want to.

Pushing your back firmer onto his chest, you respond bashfully, "I want this, I do, I'm just nervous.".

Nathan's hands wander, slipping under your sweater- caressing your stomach and happy trail. "Why're you nervous? It's just me,".

"I want things to be good for you,", I don't want you to leave me, remains heavy in your mind as you nervously chuckle out into the dusty Manor hallway.

Nathan's hands stop in their tracks. "Are you fucking serious?".

Unspoken words sour inside Nathans's mouth; "Do you know who I am? I've killed people. My hands shouldn't be touching your kind body. I've been with so many people, you shouldn't have second best as your first. I have to take medicine to be sane. I scream and shout at you regularly. You shouldn't trust me.".

Caressing his right-hand causes Nathan's eyes to droop warmly as he lets out a quiet, "humph".

"Ever since I've met you, I haven't wanted anybody else...", you continue, laying everything out on the table- literally.

"Then I s'pose we're on the same fuckin' page, baby. ", Nathan’s voice has got that deep, gravelly tone to it again, the tone that you remember with vivid detail, the tone he used that one Thursday morning before the storm.

Your shoulders fold inwards, warmth blooming inside your chest. Nathan's chest presses into your shoulder blades while freezing hands play with your belly button piercing, and his breath fans out across the baby hairs growing on your neck. He's everywhere but nowhere.

"To the dining room...?".

"Fuck yeah, doe-eyes.".

Efficiently, Nathan hauls you up into his lanky arms and quickly walks down the winding corridor. Abruptly, he turns to the left entering his family's large dining room. He pauses at the door briefly, allowing you to hit the light switch.

Almost immediately, the ridiculously large chandelier gracing the ceiling of the room lit up brightly. Nathan moved less than gracefully, sitting you down in a dining chair. He made quick work of the dusty table settings, quite obviously for decoration, by grasping the end of the tablecloth and yanking it off the table.

Before you could even register the loud noises of shattered glass, Nathan's soft lips were on yours. Nathan gently cradled your head, his other arm lifting you onto the wooden dining table. Soft groans settled in the back of his throat after hearing a small whimper from you.

Taking a breath, Nathan leaned forward on yours, his nose brushing gently on yours. “Easy, easy, baby,” he whispered, “It’s just me,”. Please don’t be scared of me , remains on the tip of his tongue. “I know,” you whispered back, understanding. A pause settled in the dining room, heavy gasps coming in and out of both of your lungs.

Nathan settles onto his forearms, lips brushing against yours but not entirely closing the gap, bony hips circling gently into yours. “I think I’m getting major Deja-vu right now, Nate,” you chuckled, brushing your fingers through his fiery hair.

“I don’t think this time’ll be the same,” Nathan chuckled, chin resting on the top of your sternum.

"Can I touch you?", you ask gently, hands itching to reach out and touch.

Nathan's eyes flick away from your face, his teeth beginning to chew on his lip anxiously. You feel a tremor run through his spine.

"Uh- yeah, you can touch me, just- um- tell me where before you do," Nathan stutters out, his eyes not meeting your hopeful ones.

"Okay," you whisper, smiling up at him.

Nathan's lips tug into a soft smile and his dimples show slightly despite his avoidance of eye contact.

"Can I touch uh- down there? " You nervously ask, peering up at Nathan's sharp features.

Way to fucking go Shakespeare.

Airy chuckles erupt from Nathan's lungs, his laughter shaking the both of you.

"Yes, babe, you can touch my dick, that's why we're fuckin’ here, to begin with,", he says in amusement, a smirk gracing his rose pout.

Your smile quickly shifts into a pathetic pout, and Nathan's face softens upon seeing the change in emotion. "Don't be upset baby, you're doing just what I asked," he coos at you, his fingers slightly pinching your cheek. That once faint, woodsy musk cologne invades your senses, his praise settling deep into your lower abdomen. Nathan's lips brush against yours and his tongue cheekily licks over your lips to the tip of your nose. An amused breath releases from Nathan’s lungs as you continue attempting to lock lips with him. Silently, your hand clenches up and hits Nathan’s shoulder in respite.

“Stop teasing me, you motherfucker,” you whimper out in frustration, your legs flailing underneath the weight of Nathan’s lithe body.

If he doesn’t fuck you six ways to Sunday soon, you’re going to be so pissed at him.

Nathan’s slick tongue trails over your collarbone up to the ridges of your neck slowly. His hands glide over the plush skin adorning your hips, and deep short breaths release from his nose loudly.

“I’ll tease you when I wanna’ tease you,” Nathan teases, his voice being muffled by the spot of your skin he’s worrying to death with his teeth.

In retaliation of some sort, your right hand begins drifting down towards the stiff bulge prominent in Nathan’s designer jeans. Your fingers sneak under the waistline quietly and begin brushing your hand over the curls adorning his happy trail. Nathan ever distracted with the large hickies that he’s painting your chest with, groans in surprise.

Your fingers brush over the tip of his cock gently, the girth taking you by surprise.

“When were you gonna’ tell me you were packing?”, you tease Nathan, loosely gripping his cock.

A soft, “Fuck,” comes out in a deep breath from Nathan while his fingers travel from your hips up to your plump tits.

“I didn’t plan on telling you, I planned on showing you,” he chuckles.

“Then fucking show me you tease!” you shout at him, almost playfully. Deep down you want him to snap, to let go.

Quickly Nathan’s hand gently slaps your thigh, re-establishing his commanding demeanor. He leans his face right in front of yours as his intense gaze bears down on you; “You’ll get what you want, you know that, so behave,” he hisses out.

[thepricebechloe]

"Set 13 years after the destruction of Arcadia Bay, Max Caulfield, now an established photographer, and Chloe Price, now a proud owner of a diner and mechanic shop, has been living a good life together after settling in California. Still with the power to rewind time, Max soon realized that her ability is slowly degrading. As a result, Max's existence slowly cease to exist from reality. Chloe, who was given a second chance to live life thanks to Max's power, now has to make sure that Max would retain her rewind ability in order to continue existing. With Max's life at the palms of Chloe, would she succeed or fail her partner in time. See what happens next..."

So yeah, I have been in a sort of journey thinking of a pretty cool plot if ever the Life is Strange games would visit Max and Chloe again. Basically in my idea, Max and Chloe has been living great and all. They're successful in life and is in a pretty stable living. One day, Max not only realized that her powers were weakening, she also noticed that her existence is also slowly fading along with it. With both of them alarmed with Max's situation, Chloe has to make sure that she help Max to continue living the life they have. Basically, Chloe has to do everything regardless of how ridiculous it could be. Dye her hair blue again? She has to. Drive her back to Arcadia Bay? She has to. Bring her back to the lighthouse? She has to. Anything to keep Max existing.

So at the end, it would either be that Chloe does everything for Max, or they just live their current lives until one day Max just suddenly disappear.

I dunno. Is it corny? It think it kinda alright tho.

Also the comic cover is just a fanart/fanfic of mine.

THIS IS NOT AN OFFICIAL COMIC!!

[maxthesillyy]

This is gonna sound pessimistic, but I always found Chloe not reacting at all to Joyce dying...pretty weird tbh. I haven't read the comics so I don't know what happened, but it's something that really bothers me. Cause after Lis2/Bae the only family she has left is David and it's a little crazy that Chloe and had to lose borh William and Joyce in order to grow as a person. Idk if this makes sense at all, but it's something I think about at all the time Thoughts?

well, first off, please dont take the comics as a “Canon” continuation of the sacrifice arcadia bay ending. it has the same level of canon as any old fanfiction does, the only difference is that the comics are officially licensed. it’s a HUGE common misconception i see almost anytime i see someone talk about them.

and secondly, i would say chloe very much does react at the idea of joyce’s death.

but i guess you could’ve meant when after max makes the decision to sacrifice arcadia bay. and in that case i would say the answer to that then is simply that chloe was respecting and supporting max and her decision.

i mean, i feel like even someone as emotional as chloe could tell that it wasnt the right time to fall to the ground crying about how her mom was going to die. she knew max needed her support in that moment, and chloe was ready to momentarily push away her own emotional turmoil to give that support to max.

(something something. chloe is full of love. something something. parallels. something something. topic for another time.)

especially when they get to the point where theyre driving off from the destroyed town— chloe has accepted it, even when max clearly isn’t as sure of herself as chloe is of her.

(something something. literally their entire dynamic. something something. topic for another time x2.)

she trusts max to have made the right choice, and even if she wasn’t so sure about it, it’s not like she couldve done anything about it.

i mean maybe she couldve yelled, screamed, and begged max to rewind and make a different choice, but whether you think she trusted max in those moments or not— i feel like chloe knew there wasnt any going back on it.

i think that specifically really shows when chloe says max is the only one who can make the decision of who to sacrifice. both in a literal sense and in a “i’ll follow you in either choice you make.” sense.

honestly i think chloe dropping any doubt she couldve had in that moment just to support max is literally the most in-character thing she could’ve ever done in that scene.

[thealexchen]

You know, I’m happy for Max for finally being able to get her photos exhibited, and not have to undo it all because of some tornado, or be denied by some rude New Yorkers.

Now we know she truly made it as a photographer. Just like Chloe said that she would after all this time.

😁📸

Honestly, that is one thing I'm really happy to see. Max was definitely the most career-focused out of all the LiS protagonists and it's really gratifying to see her artistic career take off and her work recognized. And also actually see her work, read the exhibit placards with her professional bio, and use the camera as a player, because it was difficult to see the throughline and thought process behind her photos in LiS1.

I also find Max's photographic subjects so fascinating. The exhibition is called "Walking With Ghosts," and this is the description:

After receiving her first camera at the age of six (a Contax T2), Maxine Caulfield has sought to capture a life that evades explanation. From the recent "green hell" of the recession-era Pacific Northwest to the ancient industrial of the Rust Belt, she has restored meaning to empty places, illuminating the plights of everyday people living on the brink of change. A winner of the IPA award and a National Geographic Fellowship, she is currently Caledon University's Hannah Hellerton Artist in Residence.

In short, it looks like Max became a freelance travel photographer after the first game and has been all over the United States. I wouldn't be surprised if she did photojournalism as well, because the examples point toward raising awareness for environmentalism and poverty in the Rust Belt, and she even won a fellowship hosted by National Geographic (the prestige!!).

However, the actual photos on display are all landscapes. In the reveal livestream, Hannah Telle describes Max like, "She doesn't feel comfortable in any one place, and she's living a nomadic lifestyle, taking photographs of abandoned, lonely spaces. For some reason, anything that's desolate or stark or intense really draws her eye." Max's new artistic obsession with destroyed environments seems to be her way of processing her trauma about witnessing the storm and the people she may have lost, whether or not it destroyed Arcadia Bay. The diner photo "Order Up" is definitely inspired by The Two Whales, for example.

What really intrigues me about Max's work is that it just toes the line between artistic and unnerving... much like her current mental state, where her intense trauma is just beneath the surface. Essentially, Max's photography captures liminal spaces, likely meant to evoke a mix of nostalgia, eeriness, and surrealness in the viewer. Max's photos most definitely include places where people have died, and where most people would be scared away, Max is instead drawn to these sites, as if seeking a big enough creative outlet for her gaping crater of grief. And who else was obsessed with capturing moments of transition between innocence and fear...? None other than Mark Jefferson.

Now, I don't know if D9 will go as far as to delve into the implications of Max's trauma on her morality, but after writing Alex as unambiguously a good person, it could be extremely weighty and nuanced if D9 used Max's art as a reflection of her mental state and show her actively resisting becoming like her disturbed, predatory teacher, which would also tie DE more strongly to LiS1. So far at least, we know she's not obsessed with the macabre like Nathan Prescott was. I don't think her art is mentally disturbed, but D9's interpretation (so far) is a really intelligent way of showing that Max's eye and mind are reflective of someone on the fringes of society. While her work has resonated with artists and critics, it's also not the healthiest way to process her trauma. I think showing the darker sides of her personality (that isn't just a nightmare sequence at the end) could make for some really thoughtful, nuanced characterization. She's already socially separated from most people because of her powers and trauma, so she brings new light to neglected spaces (and likely people, too) in her art.

Also, it's now canon that Max got her first camera when she was six years old, the same year she met Chloe 🥹 Nowadays, Contax T2's go for over $1,000 on Ebay! Even back then, Max was a little artiste who apparently knew how to scope out the most coveted analog camera 😂

[druh19]

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