[for Niamh’s prompt]
Derek polishes another glass, ears perking up when a few delicate chords strum up from the elegant grand piano in the corner. He turns and smiles fondly, watching Stiles’ pale fingers dance across the keys, Stiles’ pink lips approaching the microphone in front of him. “It’s that time of night, beautiful people dining at our lovely establishment, McCall’s thanks you, each and every one. This song goes out to the lovely Newton-Lees in the corner.”
Stiles winks at the newly engaged couple, the young woman blushing as the man raises his glass to Stiles, mouthing a “thank you.”
Derek pauses to admire the way Stiles’ beautiful hands splay out, fingers coaxing the chords from “Tale as Old as Time,” and then Stiles’ voice joins the melody, rich and soulful.
He sighs a little, watching the couple step onto the dance floor, the woman laying her head on her fiancee’s shoulder, eyes closed happily as they say to the music, and one by one other couples join them.
It’s another usual night at McCall’s, the best combination steakhouse-danceclub in town, and Derek is yet again watching Stiles sing.
Stiles dedicates songs to random patrons all the time, comes up with his own ballads, has a song dedicated to the head chef Scott’s uneven jawline, multiple songs about dessert chef Lydia’s hair, and will come up with amazing, heartfelt and beautiful songs on the fly about just about anything and everyone. All the regulars have their own songs, there are songs for dishes and even Isaac’s little bouncy walk when he brings out the dessert cart.
Derek’s worked at McCall’s for three years, just about as long Stiles has been the pianist, and not once has Stiles ever sung a song about him.
She’s not pretty, that word is too small. She is not the girls I used to stare at, all bend and curve and softness. She is small but strong, and her bright eyes demand attention. Looking at her is like waking up.
San Diego Comic Con Day 1 by Ellen Everett
Banshees predict death. What if the third key is someone who isn’t dead…but will be?
Oh my God, anon, I am so sorry. I finished this weeks ago (months? I know it was well before my surgery) and forgot to post it. I hope you’re still in the fandom!
(Contains: Bullying. Physical altercations. Mention of panic attacks. Little kids being dicks to each other, as they do.)
Stiles loved school, okay? Jackson insisted it wasn’t real school, but Stiles knew better. School was where you went during the day while your parents were at work, and teachers gave you things to do, and you learned stuff, and you made pictures to hang on the refrigerator at home. Stiles definitely went to school.
Jackson was probably just being annoying on purpose anyway, because it was called Little Dumplings Pre-School. It was right there in the name.
And Stiles looked forward to going there every day, because there was always lots of fun stuff to do, and a playground with a swingset and a sandbox, and Miss Blake didn’t get mad at him when he got the fidgets. And he got to spend all day with Scott.
Scott was Stiles’ best friend at school, and also his best friend outside of school, because their parents were friends, too. Scott and Stiles had sleepovers and everything, even though they were only four years old. No one else in their class had had a sleepover yet. Stiles liked to brag about it.
Even if they weren’t mature enough for sleepovers yet, everyone else in class had a best friend, too. Jackson had Danny, Lydia had Allison. Boyd and Erica and Isaac were all best friends together, which was unconventional, but who was Stiles to judge.
They spent their days playing games Miss Blake taught them, and taking naps on their squishy mats, and learning how to write their names and how to count things. Sometimes they argued over toys until Miss Blake reminded them they had to share, and sometimes someone (Jackson) cried over who got a bigger cookie at snack time, but for the most part, they all got along. It was very peaceful and fun.
Until Derek Hale showed up.