tɦɛ iɳquiรitѳʀ (freemarched) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2017-05-13 14:28:00 |
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So it turned out that this whole ‘wedding planning’ thing was a lot more complicated than Nasir had ever anticipated, and a Vegas wedding was looking more and more appealing. They’d just started and already there were so many things to think about. Hell, they hadn’t even picked a fucking date, or even a season (not that there were really seasons in the OC apart from ‘hot’ and ‘not as hot’, barring the occasional Weirdness induced weather event); no way did Nasir know anything about coordinating colors or flowers or napkin rings or anything else that the internet said that he should give a shit about. His wedding planning so far had consisted of googling ‘weddings’, reading a few links with growing confusion and terror at how much there was, and then closing the tab and going to the gym to get his mind off of the subject for the time being. He wasn’t the planning type - he was the tank, a force of nature, the kind who was better at split-second decisions in the heat of the moment rather than intense strategy. But seriously. Who gave a fuck about napkin rings. He’d complained about it to his parents during their weekly dinner together, and his mother had positively lit up and quickly left the table, returning after a few minutes with her arms full of binders and notebooks. “Max is a good man,” was all she’d said as explanation. “I just knew you’d marry him someday. I may have gotten a little overexcited.” Nasir had to laugh and accepted one of the binders to take home with him, and when he returned home that evening, after giving Max an enthusiastic hello (he’d been a little bit more in love with Max since the proposal, it was like their relationship was new all over again), he said, “Do you know that my mother has apparently been planning our wedding?” Max definitely did not give a fuck about napkin rings. In fact, he was kind of in the same boat as Nasir - weddings were all well and good when he was, say, officiating someone else’s or allowing the happy event to take place at Skyhold. But his own wedding? Maker’s balls, that was a lot. So he could see how his better half was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of things and stuff, but really, Trevelyan also knew that if one of them didn’t just bite the bullet and initiate a conversation or two, they’d be at the status of ‘engaged’ forever. While Nasir was at his parents house for dinner, Max took advantage of UberEats because he didn’t feel like cooking. His eyes may have been bigger than his stomach, however, because he’d ordered way too much Chinese food - there was leftover kung pao chicken in the fridge, crispy beef, with a half-consumed container of hot and sour soup and some of those airy, crunchy noodles that didn’t really taste like anything but were so damn good. He’d eaten all the crab rangoons though. Sorry, dear. But he was glad Nasir was back and even in possession of...one extra wedding planner binder? How curious. “Oh, has she?” Trevelyan laughed, flopping down on the sofa so he could thumb through this substantial binder that already looked to be bursting. “What has she come up with? Because honestly, this is really hard. But I guess - “ He made a humming sound of contemplation, “...we should pick a date? I have a friend who said he could officiate, if we wanted.” Nasir flopped next to Max, head on his shoulder and looking through the binder as well. She had everything, checklists of this and that, suggestions for venues, themes, color schemes, flowers, page after page of ideas and playlists and pictures cut out of magazines. It was still a lot but having someone else write it all down seemed to make it a little bit less overwhelming. “She has,” he confirmed with a chuckle. “This is one of six or so, including two that are just food. She says that we’re lucky neither of us are women or else she’d have a bunch that are just dresses. Dad says this has been her favorite hobby the last few months. She’s done a little bit of everything but a lot of this stuff I just don’t think we need.” He pointed to a picture of an elaborate place setting, topped off with monogrammed silverware and napkins. “I think we can cross that one off the list, agreed?” A date. That was manageable at least, if slightly complicated by the fact that the OC liked its disasters. “How much time does it take to plan things?” he asked. “Which friend?” “I think it depends on how elaborate we want to go, and that correlates to how long it takes,” Max replied, chestnut-colored eyes widening just a little at all the magazine clippings. Nasir’s mother, Andraste bless her, she was adorable. And obviously had been working hard on this ever since the proposal happened. Max really didn’t want to disappoint her, but he also didn’t want to worry about things like monogrammed silverware. “...we can definitely cross that one off the list.” In fact, he did it right now, reaching for a pen with his good hand and drawing an X on the bottom of the picture. Nope. “Maybe something...in the winter? On the beach? I mean, it’ll probably snow in December like it does every year. But that could be nice, actually.” Grey and very serene. “Or we could do something mountainous, paying tribute to your goat-raising days,” he grinned, nudging Nasir. “Then have the reception at The Hanged Man after, where it’s warm and cozy. Oh, and John’s the friend who offered to officiate. Constantine.” They could at least rely on him to keep any ceremony short and sweet, since no one wanted it to drag on for hours and hours. “Considering my mother’s wrath is the only thing stopping me from trying to tempt you into that Taco Bell wedding you told me about, I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m not exactly elaborate,” Nasir said with a laugh. He had to breathe a sigh of relief about the silverware, though; he didn’t want to start a fight about a damn fork. Maybe this would be easier than previously thought? “The winter could be nice, I like when it snows. I feel like a beach wedding means that there’ll be sand everywhere, though, so.” He wrinkled his nose. “Maybe not, if that’s okay with you? Hell, just wanna bite the bullet and do it at Skyhold, or is that cheating?” The goat comment got a nudge to the ribs. “You’re just jealous, my goats were fucking adorable. You have to get me a goat as a wedding present now. Do I know John? I feel like the name’s familiar.” Nasir didn’t much care either way, so long as whoever was doing the officiating was, well, official, he’d be happy, but he’d be happier with a friend of Max’s rather than a rando. “So long as he can be counted on to not make too many sex jokes in front of my mother, I’m fine with it.” There. Another thing done. This was easy. Nasir reached over and flipped a page in the binder and was confronted with two pages crammed with food suggestions and combinations and pictures and recipes. Fuck. Never mind. Wait, what? Was fresh hell was this? Max lifted an eyebrow, trying to think of how to process all those...things. Food would, he thought, generally be easy. The Hanged Man could offer a pretty tasty spread, there would be plenty of alcohol, and then all he and Nasir had to do was pick a cake from one of the OC’s many bakeries. Trevelyan was also certain that his fiance would love taste-testing for that. “Not married to the beach - “ Oh, ho, pun intended. “So that’s okay with me. We could do it at Skyhold. Or...” He suggested this carefully, out of fear that Nasir’s mom would suddenly pop up from out of nowhere and start crying. “We could just do a courthouse ceremony? John can still officiate. It might be more formal than anything else, but quiet and there’s definitely less planning involved. We can also find ways to make it nice, so your mom doesn’t get too...offended.” Actually, this was sounding better and better. A simple, subdued ceremony at the courthouse with just Nasir’s parents and Lucille there, maybe a couple others, then a party at The Hanged Man with everyone. Besides, neither he or Nasir were religious. They also weren’t a couple who needed something elaborate. Nasir flicked Max’s ear for that terrible joke, but soothed his finger down it in apology a moment later. He hadn’t even considered the courthouse, mostly because yes, even the suggest had him casting his eyes about just in case his mother appeared crying at the window at even the thought, but… “That is probably the best suggestion I’ve heard, after Taco Bell of course. I think if we lie and tell her that’s the other option we were considering she’d even be pretty enthusiastic about the courthouse.” And just like that, relief, a weight off his shoulders. His mom would understand (he hoped); he was pretty sure she was more interested in the party, anyway, and told Max so. “Maybe we can compromise and let her handle some of the reception?” “The Taco Bell Vegas wedding is really cheap too, I think it runs for about six-hundred bucks,” Max had to laugh though, because no fucking way. He wasn’t all for elaborate and frou-frou, but ‘crunchwrap supremes’ combined with vows of ‘til death do us part’ seemed a little ridiculous even for him. “But yeah, framing it like that for your mother - that seems like it could work.” It was all about how you said things, right? Besides, maybe Nasir’s mom envisioned monogrammed silverware and the best napkin rings money could buy for them, but overall she wanted her son to be happy and that was most important to her. Max knew that. “She can definitely handle some of the reception though. Invitations and decorations, stuff like that? They make all the food in-house there, and it’s good, and I think whatever we request on the menu Hawke and Isabela can make happen. We’ll invite her to come along for the sampling, and to see the place.” Hawke and Isabela would also fall under the spell of Nasir’s mother, her undeniable adorableness (she was so tiny), Trevelyan was pretty sure of that also. “So I guess maybe it could be sooner than winter?” Max rubbed his scruffy chin in thought. “Or do you still want winter? That way we could take a honeymoon on your break from school.” “You’re making it sound so appealing,” Nasir all but whined, leaning over to close the binder and put it on the coffee table, taking its place in Max’s lap with a grin. “Come on, they have that naked chicken taco, doesn’t that sound romantic?” He wrapped his arms around Max’s neck and leaned against his chest. “I think she’d like that, and honestly the thought of not having write out invitations or pick colors or anything sounds really appealing to me.” He frowned at the question. There was a certain appeal in making it happen as soon as possible - hell, they could maybe even do it that weekend, if they really pushed - but there was also something about the thought of the Hanged Man, the yearly snow blowing outside, his family and friends crowded together in the warmth - everything ‘merry and bright’, as it were. And he didn’t see any reason to rush into it. He liked being engaged, like luxuriating in this next step in their relationship. And besides, “It’s either December or June, for my school holidays, and as much as a bunch of people crowded into one place in summer sounds like a lot of fun, I think maybe we shouldn’t push the AC units too much, right?” Well, Max would definitely rather have Nasir in his lap than a binder filled with frou-frou ideas. So much, like how did weddings even work if you were going to take a year just to plan one day? It boggled his mind. “I don’t even know what a naked chicken taco is,” he snorted a laugh, both arms going around Nasir, even the prosthetic one - his lyrium-infused arm thrummed with something, kind of an otherworldly energy and a light glowing blue; there was no need to jump into battle now but he wore it occasionally anyway, so when he did need to put it on it immediately didn’t get him dizzy. “December’s cozy. I’m sure it’ll snow the whole month, as it always does. We can aim for the very beginning of your break to have our courthouse ceremony and reception, then take as much as time as possible for a honeymoon.” Discussion on the where would come next, later, so Max could book them a really fantastic getaway. Maybe a tropical island somewhere. Nasir would much rather be in Max’s lap than thinking about napkin fucking rings (he was going to have to buy a napkin ring now, just to try and understand why they were so important), so it was convenient that they agreed on this issue. “It’s terrible, I’ve had it, they also have chicken nachos and they’re almost worse. But it’s naked.” He made sure to put on his best ‘sexy voice’ for emphasis on that last thought. Nasir ran his hand down Max’s arms and grabbed his hands to put them on his hips, He took care to touch the lyrium arm as much as he could - Max seemed surer of himself now, less concerned about the prostheses, but encouragement never hurt. Oh god, he hadn’t even thought about the honeymoon. Fuck. He had absolutely no thoughts about where he even wanted to go. Maybe Max would have some suggestions. But that could wait. He leaned his forehead against Max’s and said, “I think that’s enough talk about the future for now. How about you take me upstairs and we make the best of tonight?” “Appreciating the present? That works for me,” Max concurred, and he definitely felt better about this now - not that he’d been gunshy before or anything, but it was just that he had no idea where to even begin because it all seemed so daunting. He knew he wanted to marry Nasir, so he’d proposed, but figuring out the logistics...terrifying. However, he was relieved they’d talked it out and decided on a few things - the most important things, anyway. And the rest would be hammered into place some other time. Now there was practicing for that ever-illusive honeymoon to be done. Hey, couldn’t hurt, right? |