Tattoos -Hoodie Allen x MAX (Moodie)-

prologue

"maxwell, wake the fuck up!" max's mother shouted, shaking her son on the morning of his eighteenth birthday, "get your ass up!"

max's eyes opened with a fright, flinging his body up, his chest moving rapidly as he turned to his mother. "why are you so happy this morning? did leonardo dicaprio win his oscar?"

"max, you're eighteen, stop fucking around! you get your tattoo today!" her smile lit up.

max forgot, he fucking forgot about today. he wasn't ready to figure out what his soulmate was going to say to him, he was basically a child. "get dressed, throw your binder on or a sports bra and a baggy sweatshirt. its eleven thirty, your tattoo will start showing up at noon!"

the first thing max's soulmate would say to him would appear on his wrist at noon today. he was fucking terrified. he never met who was supposed to be his soulmate, no one did until their tattoo appeared. he had a few friends who got their tattoos before him.

there was alexa, who's soulmate was lyndsey. alexa's tattoo was, "did you fall from heaven, because so did satan." lyndsey's read, "ill fucking kill myself if you say another bad pick up line." they were perfect for each other.

brendon had ryan. brendon's tattoo said "your forehead is fucking huge." ryan's said, "i'd normally get offended but you're really pretty." they were an odd couple, but they loved each other.

ashley had melanie. melanie's said, "your hair is fucking rad marry me." ashley's said, "i accept your proposal." they were adorable.

who did max have? the luckiest one in the world: his right hand. he was also cheating on his right hand with his left hand so, it was clear they weren't soulmates. just a casual jerk off.

by the time max dragged his sorry (but nice) ass out of bed, it was 11:48. he still had about ten before the tattoo would appear. he stripped himself of his tshirt that was two sizes too big and tossed it to the floor. the two slightly small lumps sagged on his chest. he didn't particularly mind them being there, they were just useless to a boy.

and that's what he was, a boy.

max tugged his binder on, covering up his small breasts and pulled a baggy sweatshirt on. and, to be honest, he looked really fucking good.

"i am the prettiest boy on the planet." max declared in a group chat of all his gay friends. the three couples mentioned, also with a few single people (tyler, tay and phil).

"lol bitch where" the response from brendon read.

"true ryan is the prettiest boy." ryan's remark read.

"send pics of ur tat maxwell!! good luck!!" melanie told max in a private message.

max made a quick reply, thanking the slightly older girl and checking the time. 11:52. he quickly made his way downstairs and pushed his older sister out of the way to get into the bathroom. she got her tattoo three years ago, and met her soulmate last month at a bar.

her tattoo said, "watch where you're going, you fucking mole." her boyfriend's said, "you spilt tequila on my dress, fight me." they were a creative couple. it was scary how in love they were, though.

"max, come on!" she groaned, "we need to see your tattoo!"

"it doesn't come for another three minutes!" he replied, sitting in front of the door. he wanted to see it before them, he was always curious of what it would say.

two more minutes. what if it was something rude? what if the person who loved him said something fucking stupid for his first impression?

one minute. max was shaking now, the small, dull pain in his wrist set in. his tattoo was forming. he couldn't look at it being done, or he may have gotten sick.

noon strikes. max glances down at his wrist.

"eat an entire bag of dicks, schneider, you're like eight?!" he read out loud, to which his sister erupted into a fit of laughter.

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ill start updating this when i either finish group chat 2 or when i get close to finishing nice