#ahs 9

~♡ TATE LANGDON:

actually has decent penmanship!!

Constance tried to teach him cursive but gave up, because Tate didn’t like it at all.

this boy doesn’t really get the concept of signatures

so he just made a fancier version of his actual penmanship

~♡ KIT WALKER:

let's all admit that this guy would have the 'typical dad handwriting'

writes in all caps

BUT HIS SIGNATURE THOUGH?!?!?! he has a very pretty signature

people always compliment his signature because it's really pretty

~♡ KYLE SPENCER:

PRE DEATH:

LITERALLY gives off 'pretty college boy' handwriting

writes in semi-cursive (???)

probably uses a black pen for everything

practiced his signature because WOW??? it looks so fluid and professional

POST DEATH:

this boy makes me go 🥺❤💗🤍😤❤💗💗💕💓💟💖❣💘💝💓❣💕💗💙🧡💚🧡💙💗💙🧡💟🧡💜

HE'S TRYING HIS BEST OK :(

he definitely has one of those writing workbooks for children

at the moment, he can only write his name and the word 'stupid'

~♡ DANDY MOTT:

Gloria also tried to teach him how to write in cursive BUT Dandy would rage quit and write 'i hate you'

has a book full of 'i hate you''s

writes with crayons and markers ONLY

literally doesn't have a signature :/

~♡ JAMES PATRICK MARCH:

WRITES WITH A DIP PEN !!!!! his favorite nibs are probably Nikko G and Leonardt

has a complicated signature 🙄

only writes in black ink and nothing else

practiced his cursive ever since he was a child

—♡—

It was only 3′oclock but the dark clouds and the pattering of the rain were enough to make everyone drowsy. Zoe had ended class early, noticing the glumness of the class and assigning the rest of today’s lesson to be completed independently (although, she wasn’t expecting much), which meant you had the rest of the afternoon free. 

Your head snapped up as your bedroom door opened and Michael came trudging in. His feet dragged against the carpet as he threw his backpack to a random part of the room and shuffled quickly out of his uniform. His messy hair fell softly in front of his tired, blue eyes as he stood in front of you, clad in only a pair of boxers. He face planted onto your bed and you let out a small laugh at how ridiculous he looked. He huffed and mumbled something you couldn’t understand.

“Huh?” You asked, running a hand through his blonde hair. He rolled over and looked up at you through his eyelashes.

“I said, I’m tired,” he groaned, rubbing his eyes like a child. You smiled softly, moving your homework to the floor. Zoe would understand, right?

Michael yawned quietly, moving to lay between your legs with his head resting on your chest. Your hands quickly found his hair again, playing with the strands and gently scratching his scalp. Michael shifted, his hand fumbling awkwardly, trying to find the lamp switch. He finally found it and the room was catapulted into darkness. The room was still and quiet, minus the soft music playing in the background.

Michael’s eyes drooped close and his arms wrapped comfortably around you as he fell asleep in your arms. You took time to study him closely. 

His blonde hair was tangled, but soft, and it sprawled over his face. You gently pushed the hair out of his face, taking in how beautiful he truly was. Michael’s skin was perfect and no matter how hard you pressed him for his skincare routine, he always only answered with “good genetics.” Your hand left his hair and ran lazily down his toned back, running your nails up and down it softly. You turned your attention towards his mouth as you ran a finger lightly over his bottom lip, admiring the softness.

Michael smiled quietly, peeking one eye open.

“You’re gawking,” his voice was gruff with sleep and he smirked, pinching your side.

“it’s hard not to,” you answered, placing a kiss on his forehead. He closed his eyes again and let out a hum of appreciation. Michael would never say it aloud, but he adored the affection you gave him more than anything else. 

“I love you,” he muttered quietly, placing a kiss on your chest, snuggling deeper into you.