#ahsapocolypse

“She’s a killer queen, gunpowder gelatine, dynamite with a laser beam. Guaranteed to blow your mind.”

Ok so here’s what i want to happen but wont bur yknow maybe could

Before I get into theories, I want to take a look at the new characters we meet this season - starting with already a huge favourite of mine - Coco ! Personally I think shes going to be an important character ( please don't kill her off !! Shes far too funny) and the clue here is in the surname ;) I ll get onto that in a bit but for now let me introduce .... Coco St Pierre Vanderbilt ! What's your opinion of her ? How will she fare in Outpost three do you think ?

Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt is the privileged and entitled daughter of a billionaire whom paid $100 million dollar s for a flight ticket ( well four to be exact =$ 400 million) to ensure safety once the Apocalypse struck for him and his family. However, Coco is the only one who made that flight.

Bossy and hilariously entitled shes in her mid-40s, and extremely "extra" as only the super rich can be .

With her aspirations of being a social media influencer to " make something of herself " she is seemingly clueless about how to do so, enlisting the help of her younger personal assistant, Mallory, and hairdresser, Mr Gallant, to help her in her efforts.

Her hairstyle needs to be "en point", she wears horrifically fashionable clothes that can only have been inspired by Beetlejuice, and will have Instagram posts of her drinking the latest thing even if it does taste like

" turtle shit"

Due to her affluent upbringing, Coco blatantly has not developed any life skills , instead relying on others to help get her through the day. Especially her assistant Mallory whom she takes with her to Outpost three , leaving her husband Brock behind as he can't get there on time... Though she is thoughtful enough to release him from their "monogamy contract " before she flees to safety.

For all her spoilt traits and selfishness she does show a more human, emotional side as she watches the nuclear attack from the sky above and a slow tear trickles from her cheek ...as she realises she has lost not only her entire family, but the man she loves.

Business, Coco style, resumes however once shes ensconced in Outpost three , she abuses her "elite" status to get Mr Gallant moved up to an "elite"so he will continue to do her hair, but interestingly choses to allow Mallory to be sectioned as a "grey" in order for her to still be her slave/assistant .

For Coco, as an elite in the pre apocalyptic world, the hierarchy of Outpost three makes total sense , however what doesn't make sense is the lack of food causing her to have an extreme hissy fit/ rant about the new living conditions and lack of Gordon Ramsey in the kitchen !

Her struggle to adapt to the new living conditions is hilarious , as is the train wreck of her hair as time progresses on ....

It ll be interesting to see how Coco develops this season, if she actually does, if she manages to get past her own self entitlement and even survive what's coming.

Summary; you’re friends with Michael around the time he starts living with Ms Mead. You feel protective of him, like an older sibling however he wishes you could see him as the man his father wants him to become.

“Michael, slow down! You’ll give yourself a stomach ache!” You giggled while watching the tall boy with golden blonde curls, crouched over his plate inhaling his French toast.

“Buh ifs so gud” He replied with his mouth full.

“He’s got one hell of an appetite” Ms Mead said appearing into the kitchen.

You smiled at the woman, looking over at Michael still eating, as if nothing else was around him other than his food.

You sat at Ms Mead’s table sipping your cup of coffee. Michael finished eating and looked up at you with his sweet smile. You returned the smile looking at him.

He’s so innocent, how could his family have treated him like they did. You thought.

You’d met at the supermarket. He was with Ms Mead and he bumped into you. Literally.

His trolley took you out as you both turned down an aisle and your groceries went flying. He profusely apologised and started to help you pick up your items. You laughed and told him it was fine, it was your fault for not paying attention.

Both of your hands went to pick up a can of peaches at the same time and your fingers brushed. Looking up at him, meeting his electrifying pale blue eyes, you blushed at his beauty before apologising for walking into him.

You both started talking and you found out you lived a few houses apart from each other’s. You knew of Ms Mead, you certainly didn’t know she had a son. You finished your shopping together and were walking back to your houses when he asked you if you’d like to hang out with him someday.

You agreed and ever since then, you’d become his closet friend. He confided in you, Ms Mead taught you about Satanism and Michael told you of his true heritage. You weren’t scared when he told you. But you did think if you could help him hang onto his humanity, maybe he’d realise that there are people out there who wouldn’t treat him as badly as his paternal family did. You wanted to keep him safe, and look after him always.

“Want to go and watch a film?” Michael asked you.

“Sure” you replied, getting up and following him to Ms Mead’s living room.

“I’ll see you kids later, I’m off to the supermarket” Ms Mead told you both.

You were sat watching horror films with Michael. He kept snorting every time the killer killed one of the hapless teenagers.

“They’re so stupid!” He retorted. “They could easily just torture the teens, THEN kill them” Michael said, more out loud than to you.

“Maybe the killer likes the thrill of the chase. Kind of like cat and mouse” you said.

Michael kept watching the film. About ten minutes later, you felt his arm behind your head as he stretched out.

Side eyeing his arm, you kept your face straight, staring at the tv.

His arm started to move closer to you, as if he was slyly trying to pull your body closer to him.

“Michael, what’cha doing?” you asked him.

“I felt like cuddling” he said simply. Like it was the most obvious question you’d ever asked him.

He likes cuddling up to you.

Normally his head was on your shoulder or on your lap as you ran your fingers through his silk soft blonde curls.

But lately, Michael started taking on a more confident approach. Like a boy who had a crush but wasn’t sure about making the first move so he’d see what he could try and get away with without trying to scare you off.

“You’re so cute” you chided.

“Why do you always say that” his said with a hump.

“Say what?” You asked him, confused as to his change of attitude

“You’re always calling me cute! Like I’m some kid you’re asked to babysit, and I’m not!” He replied huffily.

“Michael, I don’t think that. It’s just me and you are matured differently. You grew up so fast because your father wanted you too but mentally, you still come across as this innocent person who needs comfort, and reassurance and love” you told him, trying to soften the blow to his ego when in actual fact, you did see him as more of a child, regardless of his tall, handsome teenage appearance.

“But I’m not though” He whined. “I want you to see me as your equal” he said sadly. His beautiful pink lips protruding into a pout. Which to you, only made him look more adorable.

You couldn’t explain your attraction to Michael. Yes, he was very good looking. Who were you kidding, he was beautiful. But his mind, he was so innocent. And the last thing you wanted to do was hurt him or corrupt him. You felt almost responsible for him and you didn’t want to lose that connection you had with him.

“Michael, I...” you started saying

Michael stopped you from speaking, placing his fingers on your lips.

“Please don’t” he asked you. “I couldn’t take it hearing you don’t feel the same way about me as I do about you” his eyes full of sorrow.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, and willed the water gathering at your eyes to cease.

“I’m gonna go” you whispered quietly.

“No! Wait!” Michael protested. Jumping up trying to stop you from leaving. “Please stay” he begged.

“I’ve got studying to do Mike, and I need to feed my cat” you lied to him. “I promise I’ll come by and see you tomorrow” you told him. Still not looking at him directly. You wouldn’t be able to handle his heartbroken eyes looking at you.

“Okay, you promise?” He asked you, hopeful. He hadn’t gone 6 months without seeing you daily.

“I promise” you told him, reaching up to peck him on his cheek, you quickly opened the door and briskly walked out.

Pleased to get some fresh air. You let out a deep breathe. Your chest was constricting. Surely you didn’t feel more for Michael than you let on. Could you?

Thinking you just need some space to think, you plugged in your earphones and carried on the street to your house.

Seeing all these Daddy Michael prompts have me feeling all squishy. ...

10 months old and your daughter was starting to show signs of being able to walk... She sort of looked like an intoxicated person trying to but she was certainly getting there.

She shakily stood, her chubby little hand placed on your low coffee table to steady her wavering balance.

“That’s it baby, well done, come on” you cooed.

*pftt* you’re tiny daughter sat back down on the floor looking up at her mother giggling.

“Well she nearly sort of had it” Michael said, standing behind you.

“Yeah, shes getting there, I think” you replied back to your husband.

Turning around, facing your husband, your arms wrapped around his neck as his arms wrapped around your waist pulling you into a loving hug.

“She’s got a great teacher, give her time” Michael smiled at you.

“Thanks babe” you gave him a quick kiss on his lips.

“I’m gonna make some coffee, want a cup?” Your husband asked.

“Sure” you said turning back to your daughter, watching her babble to one of her toys.

You started clearing away your daughters toys when one of her plastic blocks dropped by your feet.

Still absentmindedly putting her toys away, another block dropped at your feet.

You turned around to where your daughter was sat on the floor, eyes growing wide.

“MICHAEL!! Can you come here please?! NOW!” you said, slightly alarmed.

“What?!! What is it?! Is she o...”

Michael stood stock still in the doorway of your living room. Shocked expression matching yours.

Your daughter was sat there, giggling away as her little head was facing your ceiling, as well as the 15+ toy blocks that were floating a few feet above her head.

She looked at her father, then at you, still giggling away to herself and babbling like babies do.

Michael gingerly walked over to his tiny baby, picking her up, still looking at her with wide eyes. It wasn’t until your daughter started focusing on her father’s face, tiny little fingers prodding at her father’s facial features, the blocks all fell to the floor.

“Great!” You said sarcastically.

“Our daughter can’t even walk, but telekinesis however is the first trait she picks up” your tone still sarcastic as you looked at Michael with an unenthusiastic look

“That’s because she takes after her daddy, don’t you baby girl? Oh yes you do” Michael cooed and smiled at the chubby little cherub in his arms.

“And I thought marrying Satan’s son was a walk in the park” You whispered, more so to yourself as you walked over to join your husband in praising your little angel.

She was going to be one hell of a handful...

This man has had SO many different looks.

All of them are FUCKING PRIME.