#op: sofie

Gwen had plans and if anyone knew her well enough to spot the signs, they would be able to tell just from the way she tied her house ribbon that morning and the fact that she’d been smiling at people since first period. A new week, a new her. If she was going to be so serious about winning the Clary Cup for Seton then she had to learn to take herself less seriously, or... well, that’s what she’d come to the conclusion of over a box of Swiss chocolate and a binge watch of Dance Moms, season 3, espisode seven — an iconic moment that had propvoked some great behavioral reflection.

Seeing Sofie perched against the wall in the outside Cloisters, Gwen paused in her quick locomotion, deciding that lunch wasn’t so important after all. It’s not like she was going to eat anyway, this week, there was no room for carbs in her schedule. Popping between the stone arches and beside the other senior, Gwen began her social insemination by force. 

“Hi Sof. It’s cool if I call you that right? Anyway, whatever, we’re not strangers and it’s cute.” She began, placing her bag down between her hip and the wall and twisting more towards the blond. “So, I’ve been thinking. You and I should organize something for Seton and Keough, you know, like one of the house dinners but like.. combined, that might be fun right? I don’t know if they’ll let us do it, but it’s worth a shot at asking. United fronts and all. Oh, except.. don’t tell Damian. I don’t want him piggybacking our idea.” She made sure to say that; our idea. “I just want it to me a you and me thing. Or well, a Seton and Keough thing, I guess. Blue and yellow, cool combo if you ask me.” Nobody did. “Anyway, what are you doing this weekend? I’m thinking of having a thing at my place. The ski trip was totally mundane and those public school kids were so... excessive. I’m kind of excited to be back on our own turf, you know? Anyway, you should come. In fact, I beseech you. You have to come. It’ll be totally fun.”

The best thing about drama class, Jess had deducted, was the unlimited range of freedom the students had during the period to do precisely anything they wanted as long as it didn’t draw too much attention to the fact that they weren’t actually doing anything to do with school work. It was the period of the afternoon in which she got most of her stuff for BAU sorted, she caught up on the group chat, handed out some tasks here and there, but otherwise, caught up on weird lesbian animes that had a cult following of like, four people or started Montage of Heck for like, the 50th time that year. Or sometimes she stalked Jay Adams online, or cropped ugly photos of her friends and sent it to them. The fact was, there was a whole plethora of stuff to do that wasn’t anything to do with actual academia until Gregson came snooping around to check. In which case, Jess whipped out whatever they were meant to be doing and made a whole lot of noise, just in hopes to startle or confuse the teacher until she rolled her eyes and walked off. 

Today wasn’t like that though, today was group work and Jess loved people, don’t get her wrong, she loved working in a team... but what she didn’t like was oversensitive dickweeds who had their own heads so far up their own buttholes, they made everybody else smell the shit for them. In this case, Anthony Mclaughlin, a ginger Brit who kind of looked like a broomstick if you looked at him right, was being the center of fucking attention in their assigned group and demanding they do some overly ordinary Shakespeare in the Park rendition — which — Jess probably wouldn’t have cared about doing if literally anybody else had maybe suggested it. You know... in a normal and nice way.

The more the kid threw a tantrum over being argued against by the others though, the more Jess pinched the bridge of her nose, trying not to jump into the leader pants herself. Not everybody could fit in there, she was aware, as much as it went against her instinct to let it all fly. Instead, she looked over at the slender blond beside her. If she’d liked Louisa, then Jess really liked Sofie too. They were the Yin to the apparent Yang of senior house captains, and if Jess had to pick a side to hang around, it was definitely going to be the girls. Forget their soft hair and cherry chapstick lips, they were nice people. Nicer than Greek Statue Damian Fitzgerald and actual Medusa Gwen Prescott, anyway. But then, she had her cryptoid theories about them too that nobody was interested in hearing anymore.

Sharing a look with Sofie as the kid went fully psycho over the drama assignment, Jess moved back to give herself space and also to take a seat next to Sofie. “Can you actually believe this twonk?” She gestured at Anthony, clearly over it. “I bet he even, like, organized his own exit from the womb. You know, a timer, red carpet, whole fucking orchestra ordeal. I mean, do we actually have to sit here and listen to that for the next two weeks? Like, really, or can we just split and do our own thing at this point since it’s clearly the Anthony show as usual?”

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.