hey y'all! doing a series of oneshots and figured posting them all into one title would be easiest.
these will be multi pairing, different themes, the whole nine yards. doubt i'll go above anything with a T rating but if I do i'll change it. these could range anywhere from 1,000 words to 10,000. guess we'll see.

also, if anyone has any requests for pairings, I'll likely be glad to do so! there are some I won't touch but mostly, requests are open.

most of these will probably be brought to life with the help of a lack of sleep, my tears and Halsey's Badlands album.

Disclaimer that I clearly own none of the LiS characters, town names, the game itself, or even my dignity about this game anymore, etc

on with the first one!


Pairing: Pricefield (what else would I start with?)
Summary: Sometimes, you run into someone...not new, but unexpected.


A thin, long hand rested on the table, the short nails at the end of each finger painted a vivid blue. Occasionally, the hand would twitch out of its stillness and the fingers would tap to some unknown beat against the surface of the worn down, old table.

The owner of said hand, a tall teen girl with blue hair to almost but not quite match her nail polish, was alternating between staring out the window at the old seaside town, and looking down at her phone, willing something to happen.

She hated this place. It was a tiny and dead little town, where it honest to god felt like nothing good ever happened. It always felt to her like it existed outside of the real world.

In her mind, nothing out there, in the great big world, could be this damn dull. There was simply no way.

Truthfully, she wanted to leave it all behind. She wished she could. She wished she could've followed Rachel to L.A. She wished that her old best friend, the one pre-Rachel, had never been whisked away by her parents, into what was in reality only a different state, but in her mind may as well have been a different planet.

The teen wished for a lot of things.

A tinkling of the chimes over the door sounded someone new entering the diner, and she heard her mom call out a greeting to the new occupant.

Her poor mom.
Joyce had worked here, at the Two Whales diner, for ages now. She'd been here since Chloe was a kid, happy as could be to work in the sleepy little diner where everyone knew her by name.

Her husband used to tease her about it, about how content she was to cook for everyone all day, how she ought to have her own place.

But then, William had died, yet Joyce had soldiered on, continuing in her way to try and make things right for herself and her daughter.

Then she'd gone and married David Madsen, and her daughter felt that the only proper way to describe such a horrid thing like her mother moving on was: disastrous. How could she? Had the girl's father been so easily forgettable? It had only taken three years for Joyce to find someone new.
How could she have done such a thing?

The girl was often angry with her mother.

Yet, it had been the thought of leaving her mother- David or no David- here, all alone in the teen's mind, that had kept her from chasing the L.A dream with Rachel.

Now Rachel was living it up on the walk of fame, probably growing more and more beautiful and closer to her dreams by the day, and yet here the only Price was: alone, still stuck in Arcadia fucking Bay.

The thought stung, and she was so wrapped up in her anger and grief that she didn't even become aware of her mother just a few feet behind her, quietly speaking to someone at the counter.

The sound of footsteps not much later, Joyce having encouraged the person she was speaking to into coming over, snapped her out of her reverie though, as she assumed someone she'd known was coming to speak to her.
She wanted to be alone. Couldn't they tell she was hiding in the corner for a goddamn reason?

Turning her head to say so to whoever could be so daftly considering interrupting her solitude, she instead found herself speechless.

Before her stood someone she'd never fail to recognize, even despite how many years it had been since she'd last seen the petite brunette. Blue eyes widened in both faces, the angry comment the blue haired girl had been so ready to make long dead on her tongue.

"H-hi Chloe." Came the soft voice from pale pink lips, set in place below a cute nose, freckles splattered across it and dusting her cheekbones. Dark gray blue eyes searched the blue haired girl's own, as a pale hand reached up to self consciously play with the short, choppy ends of brown hair.
That had always been one of her nervous habits, messing with her hair. It would've been reassuring to see, to know she was still the same old Caulfield, if her reappearance hadn't been so shocking.

"M-max?" Chloe managed to choke out, after a brief and awkward silence, during which Max bit her lip, breaking eye contact, clearly also uncomfortable.
Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she needed a minute to breathe.
Oh fucking hell.

"Of course." The brunette responded, the hint of a nervous laugh evident in her tone. She gestured to the bench opposite Chloe in the booth.
"Mind if I sit?"
Chloe's eyes narrowed, and she swallowed down the initial excitement in wake of the anger and sadness she'd felt for so long making a reappearance. "Does it matter how I feel? You'll do whatever you want anyway. Though hey, if you're gonna stop by, mind giving me a warning before you disappear without a word again?"
Max sighed, taking the seat and pushing her bag into the corner. Resting her jacket clad arms on the tabletop, she leaned in slightly, brows furrowed. "Chloe, listen..."
"Oh, did you wanna talk now? It's only been five years, but I guess you must see it as a better late than never situation, yeah Caulfield?"
The brunette sighed again, her blue eyes downcast, worrying her lip between her teeth. Curling into herself and removing her arms from the table, she looked even smaller than she already was, and very upset.

Chloe didn't care. Max could do the doe eyed, innocent look all she wanted, but she was in the wrong.
Max hadn't chosen to move- the logical part of her knew that- but Max did choose to never stay in touch. They'd been thirteen, and Chloe had just lost her dad, for fuck's sake, and promises should've meant something.

How very Max to come back, and expect everything to be peachy keen again, like the last five years of abandonment never happened, like she hadn't hurt Chloe so goddamn much.

"Chloe...please. Listen. I'm so fucking sorry, okay? I suck. Is that what you want to hear? How awful I am, how repentant I am? There you go. I suck and I know that and I'm sorry." Max said, her tone soft and quiet, but carrying nonetheless.
Chloe snorted. "Right. Clearly. I'll try to keep that in mind next time you pull a fucking houdini. Go to hell, Caulfield."

With that, she exited the booth and left the diner, slamming the door behind her, ignoring her mom's worried tone calling out to her. She crossed the lot to her dirty old truck, climbing into the driver's side and resting her head on the steering wheel, shaking with fury.

How fucking like Max to just assume an apology would be enough.

It was one thing to have your best friend ditch you. At thirteen, that had been hard enough, losing a best friend.

But Chloe hadn't just felt best friend feelings for Maxine Caulfield.
She'd had a huge fucking crush on her. Hell, she wondered if she'd been in love with her, honestly, as strange as it felt to think she could have been in love with someone so young.
Having your best friend be taken away was bad enough. Your unrequited first crush/possible love that you'd been too scared to confess to? Losing that chance? Even worse.

She'd tried to forget it. She'd had an interest in Rachel for a while- but it was fleeting, and Rachel had never returned the feelings. But that'd been fine.
Anyway, it was nothing compared to how she'd felt about Max. Hell, even below the anger now, she couldn't ignore the fact seeing Max again was thrilling.

Oh god, yeah, there it still was.
She fucking loved that little nerd. She'd missed that little photographer in the making.

"Fuck," she whispered, sitting up and staring through the windshield, keys halfway turned in the ignition.

Max was back.
Max was back and she'd just blown her off and she was in fucking love with her.

Max was back and had tried to apologize and make amends and she, Chloe, had told her to go to hell.

Oh jesus christ.

Jumping out of the cab, she barely made it three steps, because there Max was, having followed her out, perhaps recognizing the old truck in the process.

"Max, I..."
Max just smiled slightly, her body language still a bit guarded and nervous.
"I know."
"No, Max..." Chloe crossed the short distance between them, noting that she was still taller than Max with a bit of glee.
"I'm sorry. That wasn't...that wasn't cool." She finished lamely, gazing down into the brunette's eyes.
Max shrugged, her face falling slightly. "You were hurt. I..I am really sorry." The dark blue eyes were watery, and Chloe reached out to cup the brunette's face.
"I was, but I'm...I'm glad you're back. Max, I need to tell you-"
"Chloe, I know."
Chloe shook her head. "I don't think you do-"
Max rolled her eyes, the smile returning. "Chloe Elizabeth Price. I know, okay? Me too. Now can you please just kiss me? Like right now."
She didn't have to ask twice. The taller girl snorted, a full blown grin- a rarity lately- making its way onto her face.

One hand still cupping the brunette's face, she leaned in and pressed her lips against Max's.

It was just as great as she'd always thought it would be.