#i scrapped the initial stick of truth drawing i started of them a few weeks ago bc i was simply not vibing with it compositionally

[lesliemeyers]

the noble warrior leading his king to safety

+ some closeups under the cut ↴

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

coloring book by the regrettes with calum :)

Thanks for the suggestion and all your patience! (It’s a black reader insert, and I hope that’s okay! I normally try to keep my reader inserts open-ended on the race front. But I got carried away this time.)

Support me on Ko-fi! It ensures that I can continue to provide this content for you all and helps me save up some cash for my flight out for graduate school! 

Requesting for song blurbs is closed. Thanks for all the love. 

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A World In Color

If anyone told Calum that he would be sitting on his living room floor surrounded by crayons, printer paper, coloring books, a plush Tweety Bird in his lap and a hyped up on sugar four-year-old and actually enjoying his life, he would’ve laughed a little but made it clear that he was a few years off from all that happening. 

That would’ve been the case. If not for the fact that he is actually surrounded by crayons, printer paper, coloring books, a plus Tweety Bird in his lap, and a four-year-old who is hopped up on life more so than sugar, but the lollipop he snuck her is probably adding to the mixture as well. And he’s actually enjoying his life and her story. 

“But of course he does because he’s mean,” Ysobel continues on. She’s currently explaining the stick figure with some bubble features that is her mother in the middle of an epic battle as the sun sets and her mother has to defeat the dragon burning all of the town’s crop. It’s veered a little from the townspeople and now she’s just bouncing on her feet, talking with her hands, much like her mother and leaning across his coffee table. “I want swords like Mommy. So I can big and strong, and be in movies like her too!”

Calum nods, his own attempts at coloring in the rose he’s doodled, are slowed making sure Ysobel doesn’t get too excited and bump her head on the edge of the coffee table. She did it once today and it still makes Calum’s heart race to see her rolling around so close to the corner. “So what happened to being Tweety Bird?”

“People can’t actually fly, slily. I don’t have wings.”

“You could always make wings, like some sort of wingsuit that helps you fly. You like building stuff.”

Her nod is vigorous and shakes the beads on the ends of her braids. “Mommy said she would paint a wall in my room to look like legos building a tower!” 

Calum had heard of this plan and readily offered his help next week to help execute the plan. “Really? Did you draw the tower by chance?”

Ysobel nods, running over to her backpack situated against the legs of the couch. “Uh-huh, I did like forever ago in arts and crafts time! Mommy was so proud of it!” 

He can only smile, watching her pull out the orange folder and flipping through all the drawings and homework sheets. She looks everything like you. And Calum was used to the whole spiel about how he and his mother looked so much alike, but he could see it between you and Ysobel. He understood it, the same nose, big eyes, and bushy brows. Ysobel’s skin is darker than yours by a good ways but she is absolutely your twin. Ysobel smiled like you too. Whenever the little girl happened to catch him with a big smile, something in his chest always felt a little more at ease. 

And maybe it’s you.  Maybe it’s because whenever he sees Ysobel he knows you weren’t too far behind. Your whole world is her and he adores the love you had for her. There wasn’t a thing you wouldn’t do for her. You had stayed up every night the monsters made her scared. You soothed every tummyache. You cried at every nick and scrap that Ysobel endured. 

Calum would be lying if he said that he hadn’t fantasized for quick moments what it would be like to come home to you and Ysobel. Though she wasn’t his biological, he loved her just the same. Offering to pick her up from school, or be there when she got off the school bus. He bought her little treats, sometimes a toy, sometimes candy. Whenever he got you a bouquet, he ordered a second one with a special note just for Ysobel. 

Calum is so taken with you and Ysobel. You two met by his work. They wanted some fight choreography in a video and by way of a friend of a friend they were recommended to you. At the time, you had given up on too many serious hopes of making it big in the Hollywood realm because of Ysobel and stuck with instructing classes at a dojo and local gigs. You took the occasional job on a movie set or maybe one that took you out of town for a couple weeks but you made sure to keep all your trips short. You didn’t want Ysobel thinking that she would grow up without a father and without a mother that wasn’t present enough. 

While you’re older than he is, it hadn’t mattered. He was still enamored with your skill and beauty. It wouldn’t be the whole truth if Calum didn’t admit that he initially sought after you because of your looks, but soon, watching the way you carried yourself, he knew he was a slippery slope of falling for you. And it’s been a fun trip down.

It took a year before you introduced them. Ysobel knew you were seeing Calum and Calum knew about Ysobel, but there were plenty of dates in your living room late into the evening, within earshot if Ysobel needed you and lunch dates while Ysobel was at her preschool before you were worn down by Ysobel’s curiosity to meet the man that you were dating. Calum could tell you were nervous, sitting on the park bench, fingers wriggling around each other. However, Ysobel was fearless and when approached right after her turn on the slide. She extended her hand, the other one still on her hip, “I’m Ysobel. It’s with a Y, and an O.” 

Calum trying hard to keep the laughter from shaking his body took her hand and shook it. There was no doubt that she was your daughter. He was a goner from the start. 

“May I have a snack, please?” Ysobel, now pressed up into his dining room table with her penmanship workbook nestled in front of her, turns to the kitchen to face Calum.

She knows her routine better than anyone. She comes home, talks about her day, gets half an hour to draw, run around and play before she had to do work. It wasn’t a fun routine in all respects by Ysobel stuck to it, even in her mother’s absence. 

“Of course.” With the fridge opens, he rattles what he has. He’s mindful not to offer a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or not to snack on the can he bought last week because of her allergy. She’s fine with other nuts, but Calum worries and tries his best not to cross-contaminate with any kind of nut to be safe. 

“What kind of apples do you have?”

“Pink ladies,” he grins, knowing those are her favorite. “And I have granny smith as well.”

“Pink lady please!”

“Your wish is my command.” 

“Thanks, Calum! You’re the best.” He’s relieved that the ���Mr.’ has been dropped. There was nothing faster to make him feel well over his 24 years than when Ysobel called him Mr. Calum for the first two months. It showed her manners of course, but by god, he did not need mister in front of his name for at least another fifteen years. 

There’s a soft clicking as Duke trots over and when Calum turns for just a moment he spies Ysobel slipping out of the seat to pet him. He doesn’t say anything about the work. But when he turns to find her giggling with Duke on her lap, he sets the bowl of diced apples down and shakes his head. “You know you have to do your work.”

“Oh, please, Calum. Duke just wanted some pets.”

“A compromise.” Ysobel sits up straighter, the beads clicking together again. Calum continues. “He sits on your lap while you work. But you have to makes sure he doesn’t eat your apples. He’s a greedy baby grandpa.”

“Deal,” she giggles and climbs back up into the chair. Calum scopes up Duke and then deposits him into her lap. 

The house falls silent, only quickly and quietly cut by Ysobel’s giggles. Calum leans into the counter of the kitchen, watching her work. Duke takes a particular interest in her paper. It warms his chest to watch her diligently work. He could get used to this sight. He wants to get used to this sight. He wants to get Ysobel ready in the morning and he wants to laugh at the way you look before having your morning coffee with tired eyes squinting against the world and the bonnet secure around your head.  

He’s only witnessed that sight once when Ysobel was scoped up by your best friend for the weekend. Saturday morning rolled around and even though Calum’s own internal clock liked to wake him much later in the day, yours woke you up bright and early–as always. He woke with you and when you practically begged him to climb back into your sheets, he simply shook his head and said he was going to spend every second with you that he could consciously. 

“Calum, you never shared your drawing.” It’s an observation Ysobel makes absentmindedly. She sets her pencil down and pushes the workbook to the side of her. For Calum to check over it. He can’t initial her homework page, a rule he didn’t think would end the world if broken. But he respected your wishes and never signed off on the homework. He only checked it over. 

“That cursive is coming along really well, kiddo,” he praises, flipping over the page. It too is lined up with cursive traced and freehanded to put his own handwriting to shame. 

“Thanks.” It’s a chipper tone and he knows without looking there is a smile to match too. 

Calum takes a moment to look over the homework sheet, part of it is to ensure that he’s keeping her on track and the other part is to avoid her question. Ysobel was placed in a gift course. So usually there’s more than Calum remembers having to do at her age. But thankfully, the program doesn’t seem too intense. It worried him just a little when you mentioned it and he wanted her to feel like a kid, not a machine just yet. He even toured the schools with you. The stress of making sure you were doing the best for your child was evident and Calum knew he had to help any way he could. The final decision was always yours but even he had to admit that where she attends now, seemed like the best fit for her ability and age. 

When Calum finds not much left, besides a worksheet, he takes a pause and knows she’ll breeze through that. And if he’s going to show her the picture he drew, then there’s no more homework getting done today. “I’ll tell you after you finish this last thing, okay?”

“No fun.”

“I’m always fun!”

“No, you sound like Mommy.”

He doesn’t want to spoil her now with the question. But he knows he has to ask soon. Ysobel has to be on board with this because if not, it won’t matter. He knows you. If Ysobel is not on board, you won’t be on board. It’s like, when he thinks about his time with you two, that before his life was black and white. Now with you two, it’s full of color and he never wants to lose that. He doesn’t want to ever not see color again. 

“I probably sound like a dad.” Calum tests the water with the statement, just wanting to see how she reacts. There’s a frown that pulls down her face. You and Ysobel both have a more slender nose than Calum but the moment her lips pull down he can already imagine a sniffly red nose. He’s worried about the tears. “Hey, no, I’m sorry.”

Ysobel shakes her head. She looks down at Duke, resting the side of her face into his fur. Calum can see the prickle of tears. “Sometimes I wish I had a dad. Mommy’s great and she can beat up anyone who’s mean to me. But I can’t go to the father-daughter dance.”

“Oh, sweetheart, no, don’t say that. You can go.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t.” The tears are hitting her skin. They tract down her face and Calum takes his thumb to quickly wipe them away. 

“I can go with you if you want to go.”

She smiles, though her chin wobbles. “I lov-like you Calum. But you’re not my dad. It wouldn’t work.”

Calum hears the slip-up and his own tears are forming. He knows he and Ysobel got along well and she was respectful of him just as much as she was able to convince him to be mischievous. All the times he told you that he loved you and your daughter, he truly did mean it. “I love you too Ysobel.” He takes a moment to inhale deeply. “Okay, I’m going to show you want I drew. Hopefully, then, that changes your mind about the father-daughter dance.”

Her brows spell out her confusion but she watches Calum return to the coffee table, dig up the drawings and hold his behind his back. She can only see the red from the crayon and some black but she’s not sure. When Calum returns to the table, squatting again to her level he slides the paper, face down. “So,” he starts, wiping more of her tears. “Your mom and I have been dating for a while.”

“A year and eight months.” Calum nods with a tiny smile. “I asked Mommy once. Now she tells me when every month passes.”

“Yeah, a year and eight months. I’m going to tell you a secret.” Ysobel nods, the tears and sadness seeming to fall away as she perks up to catch all the details. “I’ve wanted to marry your mom for a long time now.” Her eyes light up, and she hugs Duke closer to her body. 

“She wants to marry you too.” The bright eyes widen and she covers her mouth for a moment. He figures that wasn’t supposed to be for his ears just yet. But it’s a relief. “I didn’t tell you that! I didn’t say it.” 

Calum laughs, miming that his lips are zipped close. “I don’t know a thing. But before I can ask your mom, I want to ask you something.”

Before he can exhale, before the words can even think about falling over his lips, Ysobel shrieks. “Does that mean you want to be my dad?” Duke barks, squirming a little and then leaps from her arms. Ysobel lets them fall, heavy into her lap. 

“I do.” He flips over the paper and a red rose in a field of sunflowers looks back up at Ysobel. Written in black sharpie is Calum’s question, May I be your dad? “I do want to be your dad.”

The tears are forming again. Both of them watching the other in watery vision. “Yeah, you’re going to be the best dad ever,” Ysobel whispers before wrapping her arms around Calum’s neck. 

He holds her close, letting the tears fall down his chest. “Thank you, Ysobel. With a Y.”

“And an O,” she finishes. “You do love me.”

“Yes, very much,” Calum says kissing her forehead. 

It takes maybe too much convincing and a promise of ice cream to get Ysobel to finish her work and not call you during your meeting. Normally you were always there to get her off the bus or to pick her up. But this particular meeting had already been rescheduled twice and Calum was more than happy to pick Ysobel up from the bus stop. He had her bus pass so the driver knew she was safe to go with him. From there, it was only a ten-minute drive to his place. He had a key to your place but Ysobel asked about seeing Duke and he couldn’t really say no to her request. 

When you knock at the door, Ysobel grins, so wide he’s sure it’s going to split her full cheeks. You look a little frazzled when he opens the door and he frowns a little. “What’s the matter, baby?”

You fall into his chest. “Long day.”

He hums and gently guides you wrapped around him into the house before shutting the door. His world feels so complete even though you’re sluggish to cross the room and greet Ysobel, he knows this is his whole world in front of him. “Hi, baby.” The kiss to her forehead is overdramatic as always. You fall into the chair next to her. “How was school?”

“Really good. I won in hide and seek during recess!”

You laugh, smoothing over the cornrows. The frizz is showing through, thanks to her wild sleeping and her bonnet always missing in the morning. You’ll have to do something different to her hair here soon. Saturday you have to get the paint for her room and Sunday you’re going to church. Monday’s terrible and you pray that maybe service ends on Sunday early enough to wash it and give her some twists or maybe even space buns. 

“I’m proud,” you hum. “Finish all your homework?”

Ysobel nods, opening to the pages. “Da-Calum looked over it!”

Your eyes widen at her slip and turn to Calum. His back faces the both of you, facing the faucet instead. And you’re pounding heart is thumping in your ears. Maybe he didn’t hear it. You knew she had been down about the upcoming father-daughter dance and you weren’t sure about bringing it up to Calum. He did well with Ysobel but it’s not easy diving into a relationship with someone that as a kid. With Ysobel being so much older you were afraid that she’d ask questions about her dad and Calum. 

“Looks great to me, baby.” You initial the pages and the homework assignment sheet. “What do you want for dinner? Spaghetti? Burgers?” Maybe it was a bad idea to get involved with anyone. Maybe you should’ve just stuck it out with just you and Ysobel. Now Calum would feel pressured and that’s the last thing you needed on your plate today. 

“I can cook if you want,” Calum offers. He keeps his cool but the side glance to Ysobel shows she’s going to crack at any second. 

“Oh, I don’t want to worry you,” you counter, pulling your keys back out of your purse. “You go get your things together, baby.” Ysobel starts to argue but you fix her with a pointed glare and she sighs and nods. 

Calum notices that you’re not looking him in the eye. Once Ysobel leaves the chair, he slips into it. Ysobel fakes a scream, miming something behind your back but Calum tries not to stare for too long. “It’s not a worry, love.”

“Still, I know you probably have things going on. Thanks for watching Ysobel. I really appreciate it.” 

“Please, look at me,” he urges.

“Look what Calum drew for me.” Ysobel’s lifting the picture before Calum can stop her. 

“Belle,” he sighs, shoulders turning down. “You promised to let me actually ask the question first.” 

“You weren’t doing anything!” She argues. “Mommy was going to make us leave before you could ask.”

And you hear them bickering but all you can do is stare down at the beautiful vibrant picture. You always felt like you and Calum were down the path to be serious. But your doubts were always crawling up into your brain. They were always trying to put a cloud of the rainbow forming. But seeing Calum asking Ysobel if she was okay with this, seeing him take that much thought about your daughter, it makes you weep. 

Full-on sobs crush your chest in their wake to be free of your chest. As the first one crosses your throat, both of them look up to you. You clutch the picture to your chest, tears falling from your eyes. “Oh my god.”

Calum sets Ysobel back down, after jokingly picking her up to attack her with tickles and kneels next to you. “What’s wrong?”

“I-You-,” the words don’t ever fully form.  The sentences are too jumbled to come out. 

He brings your head into his chest and quietly shushes. You do your best to swallow down the sobs and you do have a moment’s clarity to put the picture down as to not ruin it. Calum feels you shaking in his arms and he can only pray that you find peace soon. 

It comes but not without a few tissues and Ysobel climbing into your lap. “I love you,” he whispers, cupping your face. “And I love Ysobel too. You guys are my world. It’s like seeing in color with you two around. Marry me, please?”

“Do I get a picture too?” you joke, voice a little hoarse from the crying.

Calum grins but pulls the box from his pocket. “I think a ring is better. So that’s a yes?”

“Yes, Calum. That’s a yes.” He slips it on, kissing you gingerly. “I want a picture too though.”

“Yeah, Mommy deserves a picture too. But with all three of us. As a family.”

Calum kisses Ysobel’s forehead again. “Sounds like a job for you and your crayons, huh?”

“You got it! I’m on the case.” 

-H