Lets go to Wonderland!

He’s been working for the KingScholars, there ain’t no way he hasn’t saved a lump sum. Ruggie has to tell her that he blew it on the ring. Look. Being together is what counts, right? Isn’t that what Gran always told him growing up when they were stuck in their lows? 

Just so happens that he can’t go without telling his employer that he’s getting married. Leona’s usually the kind to turn a blind eye to most things, so Ruggie was shocked when he asked what Ruggie planned to do for you. Ruggie told him the same thing he told his Gran and…well, Leona wasn’t really known for being less than blunt.

"You're getting married?"

Ruggie blinked. "Uh...yeah?"

Leona looked up from where he'd been half-dozing. "And what exactly are you planning to do for your spouse?"

"The same thing I've always done," Ruggie scoffed. "Work. Take care of 'em. Make it work."

"Hm." Leona's tail flicked. "You're taking a spouse without the proper means to support them? Thought you were smarter than that."

Immediately, Ruggie's hackles rose.

"Oi, mind your own business, would ya? I didn't ask for your opinion."

"Fine." Leona shrugged. "If it's not my business, I guess you don't need a raise."

"...A what?"

Leona threw a small envelope that bounced off Ruggie’s chest. Bucchi was nothing without his instincts and caught it before it hit the ground. He warily eyes Leona while opening the seal and pulls out a check. 

“Hah?!”

Leona smirked. “Take it as an advance. For the small “shindig,” or whatever the herbivore called it in their word vomit of a text. Tell them to stop putting me in those group chats while you’re at it.” 

Ruggie stared at him for a long second before pocketing the check. “Hah. Don’t care where it comes from, honestly. Ain’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“Good,” Leona said. “Because this is not a freebie. You’ll be working your tail off for it.”

Ruggie snorted. “As if I wasn’t already.”

Now that he has the means to arrange a good time? Well, part of him wants to try and talk you into putting the money into your joint savings and still going to court. The other part is terrified Gran will rip him a new one if he tries. So he buries the hatchet with the idea and lets himself get excited. 

For one night, you’re going to feel special. Even though you tell him you feel special every day, he doesn’t care. If he’s got to spend the money then he’ll give you something to brag about. 

The wedding ‘takes a village’ as stated earlier. Rather than a venue, they clear out the main market square. Line up all the stall tables to make a banquet line, pull out the colorful tarps used to block the sun and make canopies covering the entire square. Tiki torches for light. Everyone and their neighbor brings out folding chairs and tables from their homes. Kids make paper crafts for centerpieces/decoration/confetti (ripping up grass, leaves, dried foliage for potpourri along the walkways), etc. Leona gave him enough to cater a small wedding, but his people knew how to get the most out of every dollar. It was all spent locally and Gran alongside the other elders who did communal barbeque etc. catered it. Nothing fancy. Grilled meats, fruit salad, mashed potatoes, vegetable kebabs, etc. Really. It sounds simple to outsiders but this is a real treat for everyone to have a fresh meal that leaves you full. 

Who needs a band when you’ve got a boombox? Well, for good music. An uncle will most certainly whip out an aged guitar for some softer tunes as the night drags on. 

Again. Ruggie isn’t picky so long as no one’s fighting, everyone’s fed, and you get some good memories. Though he does come up with the idea of getting some disposable cameras. A photographer is too much money and few people in the village have touchscreen cellphones. So the money is worth it so you get to have pictures. 

Thank god he had his Gran to help set everything up. It helps that you’ve visited his community many times during breaks. You’d both be living here for a bit until Leona decided what he was going to do. As his employer, you’d both be following Kingscholar to a different city. Take his gran with you both. Life won’t be as hard as it was for him growing up but he hopes he’ll get to leave this place better than he arrived in it 

The attire is kept casual. He doesn’t expect anyone to go buy clothes for something held in town square. Himself included. Wedding Garb in the Sunset Savannah isn’t heavyset anyways and is colorful. He gets a second-hand two piece suit from a shop in the capital. Dark maroon with beige trimming (African Style Suit for us Earth Dwellers). No jewels. No embellishments. It goes well with his new glasses, which are circular with brown metal frames. 

Up until the wedding, he’s getting cold feet. Ruggie is a running risk. As he sees the wedding coming together, people who are normally on edge taking a day to relax, grim nearly biting through his palm because he’s hot (someone gives him coconut juice thank fuck), and you out of his eye for most of the day (not because of tradition, you’re both just busy) 

Yeah. He keeps thinking about how great it is but also it’s just for this one day. He is not okay. 

While Ruggie swore off letting anyone from NRC ever visit his home, somehow that rule got bent for your friends. They’re not staying the night or anything because tomorrow is very different from today - but it does something to him seeing Ace do magic tricks for the local kids (bro is going to get his wallet stolen. His little card tricks got nothing on these kids and their slight of hand) 

Ruggie can’t bolt though because he’s being congratulated left and right. Gran would kill him. He’d be no better than his dad at that point and then she r e a l l y would kill him 

Grim. Ruggie might’ve held a bit of his pride if he was talked out of running from Leona - who is in attendance but with you because the main street is too noisy - but it’s grim that talks Ruggie out of running.

Ruggie almost made his escape.

Not cold feet — Gran would skin him alive if he disappeared from his own wedding — but maybe a quick detour down an alley until everyone stopped congratulating him.

He'd barely taken three steps before a familiar, nasally voice stopped him.

"Where're ya goin'?"

Ruggie glanced down to find Grim staring at him, arms crossed and tail piked on alert.

"Nowhere that concerns you."

"Uh-huh." Grim scowled. 

The two stood in silence for a moment before Grim blocked his path. 

"Y'know, I still don't get it." He leaned forward as if sizing Ruggie up. 

"Get what?"

"What my henchhuman sees in you."

Ruggie barked out a laugh. "Yeah? Join the club."

"I'm serious!" Grim pointed a paw at him. "You're cheap, you're sneaky, and half the time you're one bad day away from committing a crime."

"Hey!"

"But..." Grim's expression softened into a begrudging, flustered glower. "You're what they want, so listen up. I’m only gonna say this once!"

Grim shuffled awkwardly before jabbing his paw into Ruggie's shin.

"So don't screw it up! If you ever hurt my henchhuman, or forget how good you've got it, I'll hunt you down myself. The Great Grim takes no prisoners!” 

Ruggie stared at him for a second before a grin slowly spread across his face, his nose scrunching as his trademark laugh whistled through his teeth. Ruggie can’t help but rustle the spot between Grim’s ears. 

"That a threat little man?"

"It's a promise! Take me seriously!"

“Yah, ya….dang, everybody’s on my case today.”

So yeah. The wedding goes on. Ruggie’s standing at the square center counting his toes and then the music starts through a tape in the boombox and there you are – nothing fancy. Your clothes are second hand just like his. Seeing you in white reminds him of the time you all had to dress up as teens and sneak into the Fairy Gala on behalf of Headmaster Crowley. It wasn’t that long ago and yet…he forgot how beautiful you are. 

Though you’d be even more enchanting if Leona wasn’t on your arm. Surprise surprise, that’s why the meathead’s been on your hip. You asked Leona to give you away because your parents aren’t here and he was kind enough to make this all possible. Ruggie is honestly shocked Leona agreed since he hates this sort of thing…and all the people in his village lowkey hate his family, but alright. 

Enough about the lion. 

You’ve always been beautiful. A blind man could even see that. From your voice to your walk to your smile. His ears flatten against his head, bashful and trying to block out the mutterings of his neighbors. He just wants to be in the moment with you. 

“I’m not good at big words. Never really had much reason to be, but I can promise you I’ll keep showing up. Even when I’m tired, even when things get rough, even when I’m in a mood and you don’t want me.” His fingers tightened around yours. “I’ll work for us. I’ll make sure you never have to wonder if you’re important to me, because you are. More than anything. More than anybody.”

His face went warm, and he gave a crooked little smile.

“You’ve always been, though I’d put my shoe in my mouth trying to admit it. Don’t care who says what. I know what I see when I look at you, and I know I’m real lucky you chose me.” His thumb brushes over your pulse, gentle. “So... let me be someone you can count on. Someone who’ll stay. That’s my promise.”

When it came time to kiss Ruggie could barely hear the voices muddling in whoops and hollers. Your lips were on his and in no way hesitant. He was used to being the thief and yet you steal the breath straight out of his lungs. 

When you part, his lips feel numb and his fangs close to daggering them from how he smiled. 

“...Hah,” he breathed slowly, running his hands down your arms. “Wow. Yeah. Definitely keepin’ you.”

It’s tradition in the Savannah to throw coins/madol at the wedded couple to celebrate their prosperity. Since his community isn’t wealthy, they throw dried herbs instead. 

The party kicks off. It’s basically a giant bonfire once all the food’s been cleared. People canding, chatting, nothing’s structured as it was at the start. Everyone pulled their chairs into smaller circles and such. 

There exists a tradition for people who are no longer with us // passed away; it is to set up pictures of those who are missing at a table of their own. Like an offrenda. There’s a table with Ruggie’s ma’s photo that you set up without telling him or his grandma. Ruggie’s only seen his Gran falter a few times. It’s hard to imagine someone as headstrong as her shedding a tear, but she cries when she sees it. He bites his tongue when you offer his mother’s picture your bouquet, which is made of lavender and yarrow. 

Did someone say donut cake? Donut cake. Donut cake with sparklers instead of a wedding cake. Ruggie might have said that he had no preference, but you put in the request. There isn’t a cake to cut though, so you both take a donut and pull on both ends of it like a wishbone. He can’t help but laugh when you cheers them together like glasses, right before simultaneously downing the halves in one bite.  

Ruggie lifted his half of the donut like it was a real goblet, grin bright and a little shaky around the edges.

“Alright, alright — listen up ya freeloaders.”

A few people quieted down, and he huffed a laugh, eyes sliding to you for just a second before fixing ahead again.

“I’m not the type to get all mushy in front of a crowd, so don’t make this weird.”

That got a few laughs, and he smiled wider.

His ears twitched, and his free hand brushed at the back of his neck.

“I used to think getting by was enough. Just keep moving, keep working, keep your head down. But then you came along and made me realize there’s more than that. There’s someone worth working for. Someone worth coming home to.”

He lifted his donut slightly, searching the sea of familiar faces for the one who raised him. He finds Gran standing by the offrenda, watching him like she did the day he got on the bus to Night Raven for the first time. Proud, he’d like to think. 

"I just enjoy what's happening right now. Maybe that’s why today feels so weird."

Another laugh, quieter this time.

"Because for the first time in my life, I got exactly what I wanted." His voice softens as he turns to the warmth beside him. "Not more money. Not a better job. Not some lucky break."

You.

"Just you."

For a moment, he simply looks at you. Lets it sink that this isn’t a dream. 

"Thank you for choosing me. Thank you for sticking around long enough for me to get my act together. Thank you.."

His grin returns, warm and charmingly crooked. No one wore crowded teeth more handsomely. 

"And thanks for gettin’ donuts instead of some fancy wedding cake that would've cost three times as much”

He raises his donut piece with a bit more oomph, sending a few drops on his hand. 

“So here’s to us. To staying lucky, staying together, and making sure we always have something sweet waiting for us at the end of a long day. To my spouse. My best catch, and the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Then he clicked his donut against yours with a laugh. “Now eat up before the frosting falls off, shishishi~” 

Your first dance is awkward. He’s fumbling, stepping on your toes, and one of his old childhood ‘friends’ comments that he isn’t as  dexterous as he used to be on the streets. Though in a less profound way and a hiss that someone might steal you away. You ignore them though, ducking to stay in Ruggie’s line of sight and kiss his nose just before the music picks up again. 

There aren’t any other traditional processions. Just straight vibes until your NRC friends trickle out one by one, the fires dim, and people are splitting up whatever is left over.

For your honeymoon? He dips into his own personal savings. What Leona gave was split in equilibrium. 

The first night is spent tearing into whatever gifts you both received. Mostly from your friends, not his. Damn, Ruggie knew you were popular and that you had to be selective with who to invite….but holy shit. The gift from Draconia (who was so fucking pissed Leona got to give you away but sat quietly in his chair…and whose intimidation factor is what kept the more delinquent kids in check today) alone is enough to buy a house. Ruggie almost throws up when Grim stumbles into your shared bedroom(his little four by four at Gran’s) and nearly breaks the new high-end laptop the littlest Shroud brother brought.

You honeymoon is in the Sunset Savannah. Nothing too extravagant. He remembers how much you liked sitting by the waterfalls in his dormitory back when you both were students, and thought a weekend at a reserve would make for a nice trip. One that can be taken every year for your anniversary. He rents a small forest hut and you spend the days relaxing together (leaving Grim back home with Gran, putting his ass to work), talking about the future, and swimming through the falls. 

Deuce: You May Now Kiss The Spade

You’re both young, impulsive, and kind of stupid; but you’re not in this alone. Once Deuce puts his mind to something, he makes it happen. So when he told her that he was going to make you his spouse, she fully believed him. Helped him gather his courage and wished her baby good luck. All he had at that time was a paper ring and a dream. 

They’ll rectify it with a real one soon but she knows her Deuce. It’s now or never. 

Deuce was running entirely on adrenaline.

His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat. One hand gripped his phone while the other nearly crushed the little paper ring he'd spent far too long folding.

It wasn't perfect.

It wasn't even close.

But if he waited until everything was perfect, he was afraid he'd never find the courage. It would be too late. 

“Mom?”

The instant the call connected, Deuce almost folded in half on the spot.

“Deuce?” his mom said, and just hearing her voice made his chest pinch tight.

He swallowed. “Yeah — yeah, it’s me.”

“Well, you sound strange. What happened? Did you get hurt? Are you sick? Did you break something?”

“No! No, I’m fine.” He dragged a hand down his face, then blurted, “I mean, I’m not fine, but not like that.”

There was a brief pause on the other end. Then, softly, “Deuce... what is it?”

He dragged a hand through his hair and started pacing.

"Mom, I – the prefect, I wanna marry them. I’m going to ask them before it’s too late."

Silence.

Then, suddenly, his mom let out the loudest gasp.

“You are?!”

Deuce cringed, preparing for the worst. “Yeah, and before you ask, yes, I know I’m losing my mind a little but they're the one! I know they are. I wanna spend the rest of my life with them and—and I know I should probably wait until I've got a real job and a real ring and all my ducks in a row but— .”

“That’s wonderful, honey!”

Deuce wasn’t expecting his mother to offer her full support. Maybe a part of him was hoping she’d try to talk him out of it, yet it was overshrouded with relief. 

“Really!? Thank you! I know this is crazy but…” 

Deuce found himself with a dry throat and sweaty fingers dampening his origami work. He fumbled. 

"But?"

Deuce looked down at the carefully folded paper ring in his hand.

"But if I wait until everything's perfect, I'll be waiting forever."

His mother hummed in agreement.

"So what do you need from me?"

"Confidence," he blurted. "A lot of it. Because I'm standing outside right now with a paper ring, and I'm pretty sure I'm about to embarrass myself so badly I might actually pass out."

She snort-laughed over the line. "My sweet boy. A bit of an idiot, but sweet."

"Mom, I'm serious." He whined. 

“As am I,” she eased, “Deuce Spade, if you’re calling me right now, then you must really be in love.” 

“I do,” he said, quieter now. “I really am.” 

“Then go ask them,” she said warmly. “And don’t you dare act like you’re not worthy of this. You are. You’ve worked hard, and you’ve grown so much. I’m proud of you.”

Deuce blinked hard, suddenly fighting for his life not to tear up.

“Mom...”

“And for the record?” she added, sounding far too pleased. “If you’re this nervous, it means you care. A lot.”

He gave a shaky laugh. “Yeah. Kinda hard not to when they’re the one.”

“Then tell them that.”

He took a breath, straightened his back, and nodded even though she couldn’t see him. They'd talk more later. After graduation. By then, today will be either the greatest day of his life to date or…or not, but that would be okay too. 

“...Okay. Okay, I got it.”

“Good luck, baby.”

His grip tightened around the phone.

“Thanks, Mom.”

And after one last deep breath, Deuce tucked the phone away and broke into a sprint to find you one last time. It’s now or never. 

As predicted, you say yes. Deuce is a bit panicked for the next part but so excited. He starts making plans once you’re both settled into a flat in the Queendom and gets a pleasant surprise. 

Dylla busted her ass to help pay for the wedding. In truth, she’s been putting a bit of money away for it ever since Deuce first told her about you…which was the first week he enrolled at Night Raven. When you visited Clocktown for the first time and she got to properly meet you? Yeah. All the not-so-subtle gushing her son did made sense, and the smitten look in your eye whenever you looked at Deuce could only mean one thing. 

Dylla wasn’t going to let you both end up in the same position she was in at that age (no money, not ready for a baby, etc even though she raised Deuce better) so she made a wedding fund. 

Dylla throws you an amazing bridal shower. Fuck social convention, both you and Deuce get to have fun. It’s at a tavern and the party games are definitely on the cheesier side, but she doesn’t want you to feel left out? The fact that you come from another world is…difficult to wrap her head around. Deuce neglected to tell her that part of your background when she asked to meet your parents. So she tries to make up for it by being your mom. Seriously. Call her mom. 

Deuce gets all flustered when she starts harping about the title, yet can’t help but gush on the inside when you finally cave in. You’re really going to be his, huh? Jeez…

Ace fumbles with Deuce's bachelor party. He tries to set it up so the lads can bar hop, but Deuce isn’t into all that. So instead they watch a blastcycle race from box seats and then go for beers + a game or two of skiiball. They barely drink but Riddle gets absolutely smashed from his low tolerance. You wake up the next day to find the entire Heartslabyul gang from your school years passed out in the living room, sans Trey who greets you with a smile and a plate of scrambled eggs. 

Pictures. Many pictures. Your favorite is of Riddle passed out in the bathtub, your husband to be clocked out against the door, all because they couldn’t trust Riddle not to puke on your couch. 

Dylla takes you wedding dress shopping. It’s a game of ‘say yes to the dress’ because she’s always wanted a chance to be on one of those reality TV shows. She’s right on your left for the cake sampling too. Y’all get a whole spread set up at Clover Bakery and Trey just watches from behind the counter as you both gossip and devour the sampler’s menu. 

Dylla is more involved in the planning than Deuce is, mainly because Deuce gets overwhelmed with the details and is prone to worry. So as long as you’re okay with it then he is going to leave it up to the both of you. Bless this woman – she lowkey gives you the wedding she always dreamed of while also sporadically breaking down over how her son’s getting married and she now has two kids. Maybe grandkids someday. It’s a lot for her, okay? She feels like she’s done something right for once so let her have it.

You both stop for eats and margaritas on the way home from the florist, and she starts sobbing all over her nachos. 

One request Deuce makes is that he wedding be during a downseason and clear of any other holidays. So during summertime. He doesn’t want to deal with time constraints and Clocktown gets really busy in the fall. 

Even with Dylla’s savings along with both yourself and Deuce pulling overtime – the wedding and reception remain a small affair. Less than one-hundred people, really. He thinks that these milestones are meant to be intimate.

Clocktown isn’t very big. Everyone knows everyone. Another reason he wants it small is because some people still don’t care much for him. Dylla spares no words when bragging about all his accomplishments, including his fiance, and Deuce just wants the day to be without any bumps. 

So he arranges to rent out the top floor of a local tavern his mom does regular deliveries at that’s big enough for both the procession and reception. The decor is already taken care of – string lights on the ceiling rafters, widespan glass windows for a nice view of the city, a proper dance floor (with a live DJ that owes his mom a favor), and a decent sized open bar. It’s your classic city wedding. 

Another request he makes is in regards to the floral arrangements….including your bouquet. It would mean a great deal to him if you carried blue hydrangeas, forget-me-nots, and bluebells. He isn’t much of a flower guy but he’d like those to be included in all the arrangements. 

Deuce takes the ‘can’t see your spouse 24hours before’ deal very seriously. He won’t kick you out of your shared flat, but he swaps places with Grim (leaving the bemoaning beast with you) and crashes with Ace in his hotel room. Deuce desperately wants to spend the night before with you but doesn’t want to cause a jinx. Everything has to be perfect. 

He also doesn’t want you to know that he stays awake the entire night running over his vows and watching brainrot on magicam. Every time he closes his eyes, it hits him that the next night he’ll be holding Mrs./Mr./Mx. Spade in his arms. Then he starts tweaking out and Ace nearly suffocates him with a pillow. 

By morning. Deuce cakes on concealer under his eyes but doesn’t let the lack of sleep drive him down. He’s absolutely wired. Every guest he greets just knows his palms are sweating before he even shakes their hand. 

Deuce started the day strong with pristine white gloves but had to ditch them for that very reason. It’s alright. He’s handsome enough in his pristine white three-piece suit, the only color popping from his royal blue undershirt and matching handkerchief tucked in his breast pocket alongside his vows. Without his gloves, he anxiously fiddles with his necktie nearly every ten minutes. Knotting and twisting the white argyle pattern until it’s so wrinkled that he has to swap for Epel’s plain white bowtie. 

Deuce only just managed to stop fussing with his necktie when he spotted Ace. His eyes lit up like he'd seen salvation itself. "Ace! Hey. Can I borrow your tie for the ceremony?"

Ace made a face at once. "Hell no. This is a rental."

Deuce blinked. "Why not? Dude! I need it!"

"Because I'm the best man, idiot." Ace hooked a thumb at himself with a smug little grin. "That means I have to look my best."

"I’m the groom —!"

"Yeah, yeah." Ace smirked, waving him off. "Nice try though. Just bare neck it, man."

Deuce groaned and tugged at his own collar again, only to freeze when a hand shoved a bowtie into his chest.

"Here." Epel rolled his eyes, before taking Deuce’s crumpled necktie and pocketing it. "Take it but don’t go expectin’ me to be all fren’ly if you wrinkle it up. That’s my best one."

Deuce stared. "You don't have to—"

"Yes, I do." Epel narrowed his eyes, done with the squabbling "And listen to me real careful now, alright?"

Deuce swallowed, his voice arcing an octave. "Okay?"

Epel jabbed a finger at his chest. "Do not screw this up. I didn’ fly out here for nothin’ "

Deuce straightened instantly, bowtie clutched in his hands. "I won't!"

Ace snorted. "Reallll good pep talk there, juice. Especially considering you’re squeezing Epel’s tie like a stress ball”

"Oh, shut up!"

Though even as he fought, Deuce was already fumbling with the bowtie, shoulders tense and ears warm, trying to get himself together before the next time he had to stand in front of you.

His eyes constantly flicker to your keeping area, even when Dylla comes to smooth out his hair and tell him you’re just as excited as he is. She tells him you look beautiful, and it’s a waste of breath because you could walk out in a potato sack and he’d think you a goddess. 

She hugs him before they take their places for the procession, tells him how proud she is, and he nearly breaks. If he cries now then – 

He’s at the altar, the music starts, whatever barb being spilled from Ace’s foul mouth gets cut in two, and Deuce forgets how to breathe. How to think. Each step you take is carved into his heart, coated in hydrangea petals and all his wishes for the future. You pass your bouquet to his mother, reach for his hand and he’s moving like he hasn’t seen you in 24 years, not hours. 

Despite Grim not yet here with your rings for the exchange, Deuce is drawn to your hands and his breath catches. On your finger rests the paper ring from when this dream was just an impulse given form. Words evade him even as the officiant calls for him to speak. The words Deuce has mulled over all night are insufficient, no words in his vocabulary will do, as he kisses your paperweighted finger. 

Deuce feels tears escape, clouding his vision before he has the chance to speak a single word. No matter how much he tries to blink them away, they keep with their path, pooling at his chin and falling to the ground like raindrops on roses. 

"When we first met, I was trying really hard to become someone better. Someone my mom could be proud of. Someone I could be proud of. Someone…who was the opposite of me. I didn't know what I was doing. Honestly, I still don't half the time."

A watery laugh escapes him "But then I met you," his voice cracks, "and ever since then, everything's been more confusing than ever yet I’ve never felt more like myself."

The version of himself that wasn’t who he was trying to morph into, yet still someone others could be proud of. 

"Nothing's gone the way I planned. We've gotten into more trouble than I think is legal, made mistakes we’ll take to our graves..." his fingers graze the countless micro scars over your hands from youth,  "And somehow, every single step is what’s brought me here. I wouldn’t change any of it."

Every scuffle. Every disappointed stare. Every lecture. Every smile. Every heartthrob. Every kiss. 

"I don't think becoming a better person happened because I suddenly got smarter. Or stronger. Or figured everything out. I’m no different from how I used to be."

His gaze locked on yours.

"I think it happened because I met you." His voice broke over your name, spoken like a prayer "You made me realize that I’m someone worth caring for, just as I am. You make me want to work harder, be kinder, and keep trying even when I mess up.” 

He laughed weakly, wiping quickly at his eyes with the back of his knuckles. 

"And I mess up a lot."

He hears Ace grumble a low ‘hell yeah you do’ from behind, followed by a few laughs from the crowd. As much as Deuce wants to smite him for ruining the moment, your laugh stops him. That bit of relief is exactly what he needed to see you clearly.

Your eyes on him, even as his words dim to a whisper "But no matter what happens next, I want to keep growing with you. I want to build a life with you. I want to give you all the good things I've been dreaming about since the day we met."

Deuce dared to gesture to himself. Sleep shakes and ill-fit tie and all. 

"And... honestly?" he huffed, smiling at his own boyish mess,  "Despite how all this looks…Marrying you is the easiest decision I've ever made."

"I love you."

"So much."

He barely contains himself as you recite your vows. Barely holds on as you each exchange rings, his fingers shaking as he strips you of the origami placeholder and finally offers what he wanted to all along. Strains over his ‘I do’

Just to seize you in his arms the moment he is able in a kiss that hopes to convey all he can’t express. He’s breathless once you part, grinning so wide his cheeks hurt as he nuzzles his forehead against yours. 

The party is wild. That just comes from getting a small group of people who all know each other together. Mix that with an open bar, really bad pop music, and free range of a venue that they’ve got the keys to until morning? No one is left wanting. Especially after the post-dinner chicken nuggets and fries get served at the hot bar. 

Deuce cries more than he’d care to admit, and it shows in all the photos. If he thought his mom’s little pep talk was what ruined him? He’s absolutely done during the mother-son dance. Both because his mom looks like she’s never been happier, and because you weren’t left sitting on the sidelines. 

His mom really did think of everything. He thought arranging this would be a bad idea considering your situation, but he never expected to see you twirling around with Grim in your arms. The poor guy looks mortified but it’s better than dancing on your toes. 

It also is just..astounding. So many people are here to celebrate your union. Deuce picks at his food while you chat away, his mind reeling over all the familiar faces in the crowd and laughs when you admit to placing Riddle at the furthest table from the bar on purpose. 

Wait. He has to give a toast?! No one told him he’d have to give a toast! The lack of sleep is catching up with Deuce, and he’s shaking in his shoes when glasses clink together. You’ve already said your piece, but you take his hand with gentle assurance that melts his nerves. Right now, you’re his. Every day from now you’ll be his. 

Deuce stood up with his glass in hand and immediately regretted it. Even with your hand in his own, all the courage he had was spent earlier. 

"...Uh?"

The room waited, albeit menacingly. 

"...I had a speech,” he paused, licking his lips. Liar.  "I forgot it."

From the table housing his old dorm-mates, he caught Cater whistle for attention before at least four camera flashes. 

Deuce pointed at him. "See?! This is why I can’t think straight!"

The room burst into laughter, which oddly enough bought him some time to think. 

Red-faced, he cleared his throat.

"Um. Thank you all for coming. Thank you for supporting us. Thank you to my groomsmen for not letting me pass out on the ride over,” he spares a glance for you, and smiled “ and thank you for marrying me. There is no one luckier in Wonderland than I am.” 

He hearts a collective chorus of ‘awws,’ pointedly from his distant family and mom’s work friends, and shrinks into his collar. 

"Okay, that's it! That's the speech! Thanks again, everyone!"

Before he could sit down, you reached up and smeared a fingerful of cake frosting across his cheek. Deuce hadn’t a chance to process, focused on your giggles as you lick remnants from your finger. 

As people laughed, he wipes a bit off with his thumb and goes for a taste. 

“Oh!” Deuce beams, forgetting his nerves with a bit of sugar and merry “Blueberry! My favorite!” 

Deuce doesn’t remember the night proceeding. His last memory, and one of his favorites, is stumbling through the threshold of your flat with you in his arms. The bridal carry looks much easier in the movies! Though he blames his wobbly footing on the lack of sleep and three beers. 

He remembers kissing you, stripping the path to your bedroom clear, and then waking up the next morning on top of the covers with his suit still on and Epel’s bowtie threatening to strangle him to death. 

And you, of course, in no better condition yet pressed to his side. It seems he wasn’t the only one running on fumes. 

That’s alright though; Deuce thinks, as he yanks off his tie and wipes off your smudged eyeliner with his thumb. After all, he was right. Last night and now every night from now on, he’ll be sleeping with (Mrs./Mr/Mx.) Spade in his arms.