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Living on Quesadilla Island has changed Wilbur’s life in a multitude of ways. He’s gained friends, a place to stay, even a father figure, Phil, who while barely knowing him for half a year had taken him under his wing- literally- and helped him gain his footing as a father.
And, of course, he’d be remiss to mention the light of his life. His daughter, Tallulah, who’s currently tugging on his sweater to get his attention, distracting him from his conversation with Phil.
“¿Yes, mi hija?” He says, leaning over to look at her pink pad of paper. Tallulah and the other children communicated in either writing or sign language. He’d picked up a lot of sign language over the past few months of taking care of her, but it was still easier for her to write her thoughts, especially the long-winded ones.
Papi, Mr Smiley wants to talk to you outside! She’d written.
“Quackity’s here?” Another gain- his boyfriend. It had been a bit of a rocky start with them, for Quackity especially, but the younger man had improved a lot and was an incredibly bright spot in Wilbur’s life. It was hard to think of a life without him at this point.
Tallulah nods excitedly, tugging on his arm to get him to stand up.
“Okay, okay, I’m coming!” he exclaims. “Sorry, Phil, I’ve got an impatient gremlin child to appease.”
Phil waves him off, turning to an equally impatient Chayanne who was evidently trying to steal his sword. “Don’t worry, mate- Chayanne, stop that- I’ll be here when you get back. Try not to stay out too late, yeah? The mobs have been getting scary lately.”
“Sure, dad,” Wilbur nods. “Don’t worry, we’ll stick to the lit up areas.”
“Have fun,” Phil says, with an innocent smile. It immediately makes Wilbur suspicious.
“Are you hiding something?” He asks. “Phil, you have to tell me. Legally.”
Phil shakes his head, miming locking his lips and throwing away the key. Before Wilbur could protest anymore Tallulah stomped loudly, giving him an exaggerated frowny face when he looks down at her.
“Okay, I’m sorry, darling,” he consoles. “I’m coming now. Lead the way!”
Immediately she’s all smiles again, bouncing lightly on her feet as she pulls him to the best of her ability through the door and out into the garden. He goes along with her easily, watching her little fingers twitch around in the air, as if playing a phantom flute. He hums a little, matching her movements.
Tallulah leads him all the way to the fence, then points at something just beyond it. Wilbur looks over to see a lantern placed on the ground, and a sign with an arrow written on it, pointing forwards.
“What’s this?” He asks.
Follow it, Papi! She shovs the paper into his face insistently.
“Is this a prank? Am I gonna get slimed at the end or something?”
She just points at the words again, giving him an angry face that’s more adorable than anything.
“Alright, I’m trusting you, Lulahbelle. If I get slimed I’m coming back here and giving you a big hug. You better watch out.”
She giggles, poking her tongue out in disgust. You’re silly, Papi , she signs. He knows those signs- she signs that at him a lot.
He tugs on one of her braids lightly, then points back to the house. “Go and hang back with Abuelito, okay? Stay safe while I’m gone.”
Tallulah nods seriously, then darts forward and hugs him around the legs. Have fun , she signs.
He watches her walk back into the house, then follows the lantern trail. He keeps an eye out as he goes, looking for not only mobs, but for childish pranks, which he’s been the victim of one too many times. It’s only late afternoon, so mobs shouldn’t be a problem, but crazier things have happened on this island.
The end of the lantern trail is a small clearing near the river. A red and white blanket has been laid on the ground, a picnic blanket and an empty vase set on top. There are fairy lights strung on the nearby trees and a jukebox plays faintly.
All of this was secondary to the man standing next to it, hands full of a bouquet of sunflowers and dandelions. The sun shines in his dark hair, highlighting him in gold almost like a halo, rivaled only by his bright grin. Wilbur smiles as he steps forward, the bouquet held out.
“Quackity!” He greets. “Is this for me?”
Quackity nods, handing it over. “I brought the vase for it. Picked it all myself.”
“Sunflowers are my favorite,” Wilbur says, admiring the bouquet. “But…you are aware that dandelions are weeds, right?”
“What?” Quackity flushes. “What the fuck, but they’re flowers?”
“Flowers can be weeds, sweetheart,” Wilbur says patiently.
“That’s fucking stupid. Here, I’ll take them out then.”
“No!” Wilbur brings the bouquet closer to his chest. “I love it. Thank you for the weeds, Quackity.”
“You’re so fucking weird,” Quackity laughs. “Come put it in the vase then.”
The couple settles down on the blanket and Quackity pulls out the food from the basket. Wilbur laughs at the avocado toast and burgers, stolen from his and Tallulah’s kitchen. Other snack-y foods are at the bottom, some crackers, popcorn, and ring pops, probably taken from Phil.
Quackity hits him playfully. “You know how bad I suck at cooking. The food isn’t the important part, anyways.”
“What is, then?”
Quackity takes a deep breath, putting down his half-eaten avocado toast. He moves onto his knees, hands curling into fists in his lap.
“Wilbur Soot,” he starts. “I first met you at a pretty rough time in my life. Well, we did meet a bit before that, but we didn’t really talk or get to know each other until later. I wasn’t doing too well then. In fact, I was doing pretty terribly. But…you helped me through that.”
“Quackity-”
“Just let me finish, Wil,” Quackity interrupts. “I…admired you from the start. You were charismatic, funny, talented, and maybe a little hot.”
“Just a little?” Wilbur teases. Quackity laughs at that, but it was a bit forced. Wilbur reaches over and places a hand over Quackity’s comfortingly. “Hey, it's okay. Whatever you’re trying to say, you’re doing great.”
Quackity shoots him a smile before his eyes fall back into his lap. “These past few months have been…well, I won’t say the best months of my life. They’ve been hard as fuck sometimes. But overall they’ve been good. More good than bad, at least. And you’re part of the reason why that is. And…I want to keep you in my life. Forever.”
He pulls away and before Wilbur could process what he was saying Quackity pulls out a small box from in the picnic basket and gets up on one knee, presenting the ring inside the box. The ring is a simple gold band with a huge, shiny diamond in the center. It’s the most beautiful ring Wilbur’s ever seen.
“Will you marry me?” Quackity asks, eyes shining in the lowering sun.
Everything is quiet for a few moments. The jukebox plays on in the background, nowhere near loud enough to break the tension that has fallen over the clearing. Wilbur realizes that his mouth has fallen open.
The silence goes on now for just a moment too long, and Quackity’s hopeful face starts to fall, replaced with embarrassment and sorrow.
“It’s- it’s okay if not!!” He speaks frantically. “I just thought- but if not-”
“Quackity-” Wilbur starts, reaching towards him.
“No, it’s okay! Really! Let me just-” and as Quackity moves to put the ring back into the basket Wilbur’s hand moves towards him. They collide in midair, and time slows as the diamond ring loosens from the box and flies towards the river. It sits at the bottom for a minute before a stronger current comes along and twists it through the water, sending it farther from shore and into the deeper part of the river where it disappears from view.
“Fuck.”
Quackity’s face had fallen, but Wilbur watches as he tries to mask it with a brave face. “Well. I mean, I guess it wasn’t going to get used anyways.”
“No!” Wilbur exclaims. “No, I- I mean, yes. Yes to your question. Sorry, I just needed- Dios, this is complicated. I promise, I just needed a second.”
“It’s okay, Wilbur,” Quackity says, looking away. “You don’t have to- to pretend. I promise, I’m okay.”
“I know you, darling,” Wilbur tries. “I know you’re not okay. But I promise, this isn’t because I feel bad. I meant to say yes, really, I was just- shocked. Really.”
“...You mean that?”
Wilbur stands, grasping Quackity’s hand in his. He presses a quick kiss to Quackity’s lips, letting it linger for only a second before pulling back. “Seriously. I love you, Quackity. I’m sorry I made you think otherwise, even for a second.”
“I love you too,” Quackity says, sounding almost surprised despite how many times they’ve exchanged those words. His voice is just a little strained from the emotional rollercoaster of the last few minutes. “...We lost the ring, though.”
Wilbur looks around the clearing for an idea, his eyes falling on the picnic basket and something violently blue inside.
He grabs the small package and rips it open, then drops onto one knee, holding the ring pop up. “Marry me?” he asks quickly.
Quackity stares at him in disbelief, confusion warring with the hope slowly dawning. “What?” he asks.
“I know it’s not as fancy as yours, and I don’t have a whole speech prepared,” Wilbur smiles. “I’ve had a bit of short notice.”
Quackity chuckles wetly, the tears of hurt turning into tears of joy, making his golden brown eyes sparkle in the setting sun. Wilbur is so distracted by them he’s startled when Quackity holds his left hand out towards him.
“Yes, Wilbur,” he laughs slightly. “I’ll marry you. I’ll even forgive you for your lack of a speech.”
“I can come up with one now if you like,” Wilbur says. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day-“
“That’s fucking-“ Quackity laughs. “You’re plagiarizing. What the fuck is wrong with you.” He sounds too fond for the insult to land in any significant way.
Wilbur gently grasps Q’s hand and fits the ring pop on with all the ceremony of a royal knighting. The blue plastic of the ring breaks the illusion, but neither of them mention it. Quackity still admires it as if it were the diamond he dropped.
“I’ll get you a better one soon,” Wilbur says apologetically. “You deserve something better.”
“Oh, please. You didn’t even know this was happening, you don’t have to be sorry.”
“And yet I still am.”
Quackity smiles, a small shy thing that brings out the dimples in his cheeks. Wilbur can’t help but lean forward and press a kiss to them, his hand moving down and linking with his fiancé’s- his fiancé . The word fits into place in his mind easily, as if it had always been used. Though he thinks husband could replace it just as easily.
“You’re insufferable,” Quackity informs him. “The worst. I hate you.”
Wilbur holds Quackity’s hand up, still intertwined with his, and shows off the ring pop. “My incredibly thoughtful and expensive ring on your finger says otherwise.”
Quackity pushes him lightly, giggling. “This is gonna get sticky and gross in a few hours.”
“Minutes, actually.”
They’re quiet for a minute, letting the sounds of the surrounding area wash over them, just content to be in each other's company. Quackity’s head falls onto Wilbur’s shoulder, and their arms link, their bodies fitting together like matching halves.
Soon they’ll go back in the house and deal with Phil’s teasing. Chayanne will give an incredibly violent and slightly concerning shovel talk to Quackity, threatening him with tortures no man should know about, let alone a six year old. Tallulah will cling to the both of them, hardly bearing to let either of them out of her grasp for longer than a few seconds. They’ll be surrounded by family, both new and old.
But for now it’s just them sitting together by the river. It’s another change, but this one slips into place just right.