“Mom,” said the nine year old thoughtfully, forking his macaroni and cheese past a grin that was already missing some teeth, “Why is fuck uh bad word? Cus Keith says it means sex an’ yew said sex is wut makes babies an’ babies ain’t uh bad thang yew said, yew said Ah wus uh blessin’.”

Sarah paused with her own fork posed over a smoldering plate of noodles, eyeing her son speculatively before she said, “Eat yer dinner an’ let me think about it.” 

Nicest? *Whistles in consideration, tucking a hand over the back of his neck* Well, shit, th’man wus mah family - he made me strong. Dunno how much more uh felluh like mah buddy Keith cud do tuh be nice.

[Author’s note: For those of you unaware, El’s boyfriend Ask-Keith is not “his” Keith, they’re from different universes which converged through Tumblr. To reference his own Keith, I tag posts with “friends: keith” instead of “ask~keith” to avoid confusion.]

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“People,” the black girl whispered in a horrified murmur, the whites of her eyes bright against her terrified face. She looked up from the carnage that now occupied the stairwell, clutching the railing as though feeling faint. “We just killed people.”

“Naw,” Ellis said firmly, standing up from where he’d been crouched beside a body. The door from the emergency stairwell that lead to the roof was busted in, wood flecked with blood from fists that had pummeled clear through to get to the four people that had hidden behind it. “These are zombies.”

“Zombies?” echoed the greasy-haired man in the suit, now splattered with blood – and not particularly alarmed that it was blood, Ellis noticed with distaste.

“Zombie zombies,” Ellis confirmed with a quick nod. “They ain’t people no more.”

“They’re sick,” the woman hissed, pistol trembling in her grasp as she slid down the stairs a little, “They’re sick and we killed them.”

“We ain’t got no choice,” rumbled the big black man behind her, taking her thin elbow and hoisting her back onto her feet.

“An’ we ain’t got no mommas tuh run home to,” Ellis noted, offering a grin as he held out a new clip for her pistol; his baggy coveralls were host to more pockets than her slim jeans had provided. “We’re gonnuh git tuh that evac an’ back tuh our families, miss – Ah promise yuh.”

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“Danny, would yew like to help me with this?” his grandmother questioned from the kitchen, her warm, firm voice carrying clearly over the chatter of a cartoon on living room television. The toddler in question glanced up – having snuggled up in his mother’s lap as she finished some homework covered in numbers tumbled in and around unfinished squares – before looking to Sarah in silent question for permission.

“Sure, Ma,” Sarah said loudly, and her smile was one of the mean ones Ellis didn’t like, shrinking out of her lap as she continued, “Ellis wud love tuh help yew.”

The tiny brunette scampered off to the kitchen, keeping his slack-bodied Mr Peanut safely tucked beneath his arm as his grandmother cooed and scooped him up to stand on a kitchen chair. Together, they rolled squat hotdog halfs in perfectly sliced sections of dough, placing them on a broad pan in preparation for the oven.

“Good job, Danny,” Grammy praised with a smile that was much nicer than his mommy’s had been, showing of all her pearly teeth and the plethora of lines that made her face so kind.

Ellis drew Mr Peanut back against his chest and buried his face against it, peeking at his grandmother with a small frown as she turned away to slide their work into the heat-billowed oven’s open door. “Mommy says m’name’s Eh’lus.”

“Your grandpa prefers yer middle name, sweetie,” she said dismissively, her voice still strong and pleasant. The oven door hissed as it was drawn closed again, its shadowed display window hiding the orange glow of the racks inside; the stove was clean and white, hiding the frightening heat it housed within. “And yew know he’d like yew to call your—call her Sarah,” she added delicately as she straightened, offering another of her sunny smiles. “Wud yew like a cookie for helpin’ grandma, baby?”

Ellis took Mr Peanut and ran back to the living room where his mother waited for him with open arms, classwork forgotten as she clutched his confusion-hunched frame against herself. “It’s okay, Ellis,” she whispered into his curls, “We know who we are.”

But Ellis wasn’t so sure. 

“Little slower, baby,” Sarah cautioned just as the four year old wrenched another tug of peel free from his orange, dragging the juicy flesh inside open in a wet gush. The little brunette cursed wordlessly, pulling his fingers away to lick the still somewhat tart juice off his skin. He offered up the ruined orange to his mother with wide, imploring eyes.

“No, Ellis, yuh can do it jus’ fine yerself,” encouraged the teenager, crouching before her child and helping hold the fruit still, coaching his fingers to peel around the gash slowly, so that the exterior parted with the desirable contents without tearing it up. As Ellis crowed at their mutual success, she pressed a kiss to his curly head, and kissed the last trace of leaked juice from his hand. 

Me an’ mah Mom’ll usually head up tuh mah grandpa’s grave tuh leave flowers ‘er summin, cus she don’t like goin’ alone. An’ mah grandpa wus th’closest thang Ah ever had tuh havin’ uh dad – hell, sumtimes when Ah went tuh church Ah had tuh pretend he wus, cus mah mom wus real’ young when she had me. *Cracks a brief grin* Wus uh real’ scandal.

An’ she don’t know who th’dude wus. Th’most she ever said wus she met him one uh th’nights she usetuh sneak outtuh her parents’ place. *Shrugs nonchalantly* Yew git told once ‘er twice thah’chu don’t got one an’ yuh quit askin’. Ain’t like it wus ever important tuh me anyhow…

*Grins wide* Ah always hoped he wus alive sumplace an’ had like uh whole family, speshully when Ah wus younger an’ wanted uh lil sister ‘er sumbody tuh play with. Like maybe one day Ah’ll have sumbody show up at mah place lookin’ jus’ like me. *Sits back, looking a little bashful as he rubs the back of his neck* Then mah lil bros were born an’ Ah quit wishin’ fer that shit cus Ah already had it.

Th’twins celebrate with Nick. He ain’t their real dad – that’d be gross *cringes* – but he’s been around ‘em since they wus real’ young an’ he does awl kindsuh dad shit with ‘em. Shit, Arden even calls him Daddy.

They made ‘im these cement thangs with their handprints fer his flowerbed this year; they’re gonnuh spend tuhday an’ tuhmorruh at Nick’s cus it ain’t uh real’ good time fer mah mom. Her an’ her dad never got along. 

Heh, sum folks have uh easy time uh choosin’ tha’ kinduh thang, but me? Ah got awl kinduh favorite colors… Black, bunchuh dif’rnt kindsuh blue, yellow… Hold me at gunpoint an’ Ah’d prolly tell yuh yellow. *Chuckles and flicks the underside of his hat’s bill* 

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Their down had a curious feel to it; fever-hot like the big blue towel grandpa would sprawl on the beach sand to sit on, but soft and inviting like the fur of the tabby kittens Ellis had found by the shed. It was bright, vivid yellow, a few misplaced whirls and streaks of black marring the otherwise sunshine color. Ellis toed up to press his hands on the wire mesh of the large pen perched on a stand in the middle of the feed store, the loose hang of his overalls’ straps draped from his waist dragging on the plank flooring as he peered with wide, blue-gray eyes into the enclosure. 

The baby ducks were either noisy or half-asleep, toddling about on strewn straw that smelled musty and damp. Ellis pushed a few fingers through the wiring and wriggled them against the plush down of the closest three ducks, a delighted grin catching his face when one shook itself awake and blinked curiously back. 

When it bit him - one quick little nip that felt like catching his finger in the hinged jaw of his plastic alligator - he squealed in a childish mixture of shock and delight. 

“Grandpa, can Ah git one?” the five year old pleaded, turning wide, thickly lashed eyes up at the age-slackened features of his current companion. 

“We hunt ducks,” grunted the elderly male, forking over a pair of twenties at the register for his purchases, “Them ain’t pets, boy. Those’re fer eatin’. Now fix yer pants ‘fore they fall off yuh.” 

Quirking a frown, the short brunette hoisted the denim straps over his shoulders and fiddled with the clasps until the metal clicked together, watching the fuzzy little balls of yellow until his grandpa put a hand on the back of his head to steer him out of the store. 

[An anon sent an inquiry in about Ellis’s relationships with past girlfriends and how he handled being with women, So I wrote up 3200 words of drabbles on some things between himself and longtime on/off girlfriend Heather. Not all aspects were really highlighted here but some major points of interaction are. Adult content warning.]

Her name is Heather, and he knows this because she’s on the boy’s baseball team instead of playing girl’s softball. Sometimes, when the weather is nice and the field is clear after school, they sit together on the bleachers when practice is over, and she shares the snack she always has leftover from lunch. They linger long after everyone else has gone home; her Dad is always late picking her up and he doesn’t want anyone to know he walks the mile and a half to his trailer park. 

She’s blonde, but there’s brown in it too, and it’s always cut neatly along the line of her jaw so that the tips sort of fan out a little like the flared edges of a cookie flattened on the pan. There’s a smattering of freckles on her snubbed nose, and he notices there’s one on her bottom lip sometimes when the sun’s just right. Or maybe he just doesn’t notice it other times. But it’s like a spot of chocolate and when she catches him looking she turns pink and calls him a freak. 

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K- What my full name is.

Ellis Daniel Hart. When Ah was real’ little mah grandfather tried tuh call me Danny on accountuh not much likin’ mah firs’ name.. 

M - If I forgive betrayal.

A’course. Ah forgive e’rrybody uh e’rrythang if they really wanna be forgiven. If mah buddy Dave was around he could tell yew some doozies he pulled on me uh coupluh times an’ Ah didn’t hold it against him none.

T- 5 things I love unconditionally.

Mah Mom, a’course, an’ mah little brothers. Anybody who calls me their friend cos Ah always figured tha’ makes yew family anyhow. Music… Ah love all kinds, love listenin’ tuh it, love makin’ it. An’… Ah dunno, jus’ people, man. 

X - If I’ve done something I regret very much.

Aw hell yeah, ain’t e’rrybody got uh thing ‘er two?

Ah think th’thing Ah regret most is when Keith suggested Ah sneak him outta th’hospital a’fore they evac’d it so we didn’t get separated, Ah uh.. Ah said Ah was jus’ waitin’ mah turn an’ he outta jus’ sit back an’ enjoy th’helicopter ride. Dave was purdy adamant ‘bout him an’ Paul maybe stayin’ behind wit me when shit got bad, an’ part uh me wishes Ah took ‘em up on it considerin’… *waves a hand to indicate he’s done with the subject*

Never knew mah Dad. *Shrugs a shoulder in a casual sort of way* Momma got pregnant real’ young like an’ then got grounded fer like five years so it’s not like she coulda tried tuh find him again. 

Now, me an’ Mom are uh ton alike. She taught me tuh be hard workin’ an’ independent like her… ‘cept Ah’m noticin’ nowadays it mustuh been real’ lonely all them years it was jus’ us… Ah had Keith an’ Dave but she didn’t have nobody… *glances down, rubbing the back of his neck* …Anyhow, e’rrything good in me came from her so Ah guess yew could say whatever makes me uh good person. *Smiles, the corner quirked* 

Shoot, me an’ mah buddy Keith figured that out when we was kids. See we both lived in trailers an’ the roof uh mine was purdy flat, so Keith decided it was like, th’perfect launch track fer uh go cart with uh parachute attached. But we didn’t have either uh those so we started like, savin’ up cans an’ bottles an’ tradin’ ‘em in fer money, an’ Keith bought this beat up frame of uh go cart and we were gonna fix up th’engine… but Keith got all impatient tuh try it out so we figured Ah’d just push it across th’roof th’first time an’ we’d try with th’engine later… so we got this big tarp an’ attached it tuh th’back— 

Oh wait.. Ah promised Keith Ah’d never tell th’whole story on accountuh him bein’ like eight and hella embarrassed at th’result. *Grins and crosses his arms* Ah’ll give yew uh hint, though: it didn’t work too well. 

Man Keiths jus’ ain’t got no luck. *Offers a grin* An’ howdy. 

Ah got uh buncha scars too now, on accountuh th’zombie apocalypse. But a’fore tha’, all Ah had was like this little one on mah pinkie from Keith fuckin’ around in middle school with his daddy’s huntin’ knife. It’s still mah favorite though cos Keith got real’ upset about it. 

When Momma told mah grandparents we was movin’ out. Ah had tuh only be like five. 

See, Momma had me real’ young, an’ until she was eighteen, we had tuh live with her parents, cos th’state wouldn’t give her uh emancipation on accountuh her havin’ such poor grades. Two days a’fore her birthday she came downstairs where Ah was watchin’ TV with mah grandparents an’ told ‘em me an’ her was gonna be leavin’ in uh week cos she got accepted intuh th’trailer park ‘cross town.

Ah don’t think they fought too much infrontuh me a’fore cos tha’s what Ah remember most, bein’ scared cos uh all th’ shoutin’…

*scratches the back of his head, his expression uncomfortable* It all worked out, though..