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Headcanons

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It’d been a long time since Sofie had hung out with a man outside the bar, in anything that even remotely resembled a date. It was hardly even that, really, and she knew Stefan had no intentions toward that end. Regardless, as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, Sofie couldn’t help but fiddle with her hair and wonder if she shouldn’t add another coat of mascara. She’d learned that even eye shadow technically had an expiration date, but she’d made due with what she had. At least her clothes were still in style. The black jeans and blush oversized sweater were simple, if flattering, but more importantly, she felt comfortable. Ready for whatever the night would throw at them. Good for both work and play.

Her shift had gone by incredibly slow, and she spent it fiddling with things she knew didn’t really need her attention. It was almost a nervous tic, and a few of her employees had teased her good-naturedly about it until Stefan had shown up to take her away from all that. A quick stop to get what this country called ‘tacos’ was all it took until they retired to his place for what he’d promised would be a feast. She didn’t believe him, having grown up on what she felt was some of the best food on earth, but she had to give him credit for spunk.

Chuckling, she took off her own shoes and set them neatly next to the pile near the door. “I mean, you’re the one promising a Puerto Rican that these are going to beat her abuela’s cooking, so it’s you’re funeral,” she said, following Stef into the kitchen. She wore an almost comical expression of exaggerated disbelief, though it didn’t last long. Her grin turned genuine, and she took a minute to soak in her surroundings. The place showed signs of recent cleaning, but there were still a few signs of the little girl she knew lived there.

“I expected it to be...messier,” she said, letting out a snort of laughter. Though she had no kids of her own, she had a big family back in America and knew what a place looked like with children residents. “Still, it’s nice. Homey,” she added, leaning against the counter next to where he was standing. She peered curiously toward the bag he’d yet to open, trying to anticipate what it contained though he’d told her what to expect.

— { @sofiepagan }

Owning a business was a bit like looking after a child, and since Stefan had ample experience with both, he rarely seemed to have time for much else. He didn’t resent having to sign away so many of his personal hours to the brewery, in fact, he loved it there. He could spend hours and hours in the back warehouse with the beer vats, tweaking his brews and coming up with new ideas. But he knew that his friends were probably sick of hearing about it, and sick of always having to come to the Brewery to see him and spend time with him while he worked. But it was hard, Stefan was feeling stuck. He didn’t really know what else to do with his time when he wasn’t working and didn’t have his daughter Ida for the week.

So tonight, he’d been a little nervous because he was trying something new, something he hadn’t done in a long while and even if Sofie and him were sort of just friends… Part of him still knew he’d have to behave in front of her. He was happy to take it there… But he didn’t know if Sofie was. Actually, he didn’t know how she felt about casually hooking up with him at all. He was a little afraid to ask.

So instead, they embraced the Norwegian tradition of Taco Night ( or Fredagstaco ) though it was nothing like the Tacos any Amerian would know. Stefan couldn’t wait to see her reaction. First, he’d taken the night off and swung by The Wolf’s Den to pick Sofie up, dragging her out and getting her staff to assure her they’d be fine without her for just one night. Next, they swung by the restaurant around the corner from his home, picked up the tacos, and then made the short distance to his house. Normally, it was a pigsty, but thankfully his sister Annie had been around earlier that week and worked miracles. Now, the light floor shun through with no clutter, and the black kitchen cupboards showed no grime from hands of a five-year-old. Thankfully, this week wasn’t Dad Week for Stefan, so they had the peaceful home all to themselves.

“Make yourself at home, shoe pile is there.” He pointed, having kicked off his own already and was carrying the food over to the kitchen counter. “Are you ready to have your mind totally blown by these?” Stefan chuckled, glancing back at Sofie with a grin.

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evelynken‌:

“I know, I know. The Scottish have coined the redhead. I’ve gotten mistaken for the princess from Brave from little kids.” She chuckles. Her brows both raise but her eyes are instantly squeezing shut and her hands are covering her face. “Oh, God.” Her head shakes before looking back up at Sofie. “babe, I’m sorry. You’re right, I don’t have to worry about that. Though if it ever happens and I’m here and you want to start full on going at them in Spanish. I’ll watch the show.” Though she couldn’t see Sofie doing that. She was sweet and amazing with her customers. 

“I miss her. I might take you up on that offer.” Evie smiles, “Of course she would. You’re her girl. She’s seen you grow up and now she’s here to see you get married–but that’s just that mask. Though she would be very happy to see you get married she’s really looking for the kids.” A laugh follows. “Old people are sneaky like that. Mine is doing everything backwards. She keeps talking about kids.” After being raised by her grandmother, she had an extra appreciation for all grandmothers. They were god sent in her eyes. 

“I would make you look like a queen.” She confirms as she watches Sofie move around the bar rhythmically. Her head tilts, “Oh. So I get an entire bottle of vodka a splash of sprite–scared to keep up?” She teases, her nose scrunching. Evelyn watches her mood shift and her eyes softens. “Sof.” Her hands moves over the counter to get a light grip on her wrist. “Hey. I would love to make you dress one day. But I’m also very aware that you’re independent and you don’t have to have anyone.” Her eyes lock with Sofie��s, trying to make her point. Fingers slip from around her wrist and a soft smile follows. “I’m coming over tonight. We haven’t had a proper girls night in a long time.” 

“Merida?” Sofie asked, snorting out a laugh. “Yeah, I could see it. You’re probably more fun though.” She winked and paused to take a few empty glasses from a passing server, dunking them into the cleaning sink before returning to stand in front of Evie. Her expression was thoughtful, and she welcomed the encouraging words from her friend. The woman almost always seemed to know exactly what to say to bring Sofie’s mood back up, a skill only her mother and grandmother seemed to have.

“I’m sure she’d love grandkids,” Sofie began slowly, leaning into the counter once more, “but I think she just wants me to be happy, stable. In her mind, that’s having a man, you know? She’s even asked if I was into women instead, said that was fine as long as I had someone.” Sofie laughed, waving the sentiment aside. They both knew she was straight; it wasn’t that she couldn’t find someone, more that she wasn’t sure if she wanted one. She didn’t know that her being happy wasn’t her being single. Her grandmother - and mother - would argue she didn’t know if being happy didn’t mean being taken, either.

Pushing those thoughts aside, she smiled at Evie and patted her hand gratefully. “A girl’s night sounds great. I can definitely keep up with you drink wise after close. We can watch some trashy movies or something, bake food we probably shouldn’t eat, dish on all the gossip. I think I’ve even got some wine left at home...” She paused to think before nodding. “Definitely some port, anyway. Only an hour or two left until close - you game, or you need a nap, grandma?” she teased, poking fun at the slight age gap between them.

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