It was — It was a different kind of bullet.
seen from China

seen from United States
seen from Pakistan

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from Philippines
seen from China
seen from Belgium
seen from China

seen from Israel
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Israel
seen from Philippines
seen from Australia
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Singapore
It was — It was a different kind of bullet.
Derek watches warily as Stiles tumbles out of his Jeep. His shoes squelch in the mud and his door creaks out its disapproval at being closed, but Stiles doesn't seem fazed by any of those ominous signs. He's awkwardly cradling something shiny and bright under his arm. He walks up the porch steps to the Hale house without so much as glancing through the cracked glass at him, though Derek is sure he knows red eyes are gauging his progress.
He spins at the top step and plops himself down, setting a gift wrapped in shiny blue paper and wrapped in a green lace ribbon that twists up in a bow on its top next to him. It's obscene, this happy little thing sitting here where Derek's family burned. Derek is about to say so, about to run Stiles off - maybe finally for good this time and that shouldn't leave him with his insides aching the way it does--when Stiles says glumly, "Happy birthday, dude."
Derek can't help his flinch as the words hit him. He has no idea how Stiles came by that information, but it makes him curious, draws him out. He shifts out from behind the window, joins him on the slanted porch so he can stand nearer to Stiles and raises his lip. "Don't you mean 'Merry Christmas'?"
Stiles looks up at him, biting at the skin around his thumbnail. His gaze falls to Derek's boots and he shakes his head slightly. "No," he answers back simply. "Choice between two significant holidays," Stiles shrugs, "I went with the more important one."
You are not an enemy anymore There's a ray of light upon your face now
happy birthday, Derek!
"you have got to be kidding me."
happy birthday derek hale!
derek hale's eyebrows (✿◠‿◠)
Imagine Stiles cuddling up to Derek while it's just them at the loft and Stiles whispering about how much he enjoys being with Derek and Derek just leans down and kisses his head and Stiles just smiles and tells him happy birthday.
derek frowns at him like ‘thefockdidujustsay’ and stiles’ grin is so huge it looks painful.
"stiles…."
"i checked your driver’s license!"
"it’s fake."
"i don’t care if it’s fake or not, you’re not gonna tell me the real date, so… pfff."
derek just sighs and thinks to himself that at least no one else is bothering him, that it’s just him and stiles, no presents, no awkward singing, no bunch of weird people…
… and then the door to his loft open and river of people (okay maybe like 6, but it’s a lot for him) bursts in, lydia with present bags, allison with cake, isaac and scott with food and drinks, peter with party hats (“we didn’t have a choice, trust me” lydia rolls her eyes and smiles bitterly) and derek stares at them in horror while stiles tries to stop grinning because now his face really starts to hurt.
and after awkward chanting of happy birthday that is painfully long (probably peter and lydia thought it may be funny to watch him suffer), weird hugs and wishes, blowing the candles (he needs to talk to peter about his memory problems because derek isn’t 30 yet), unpacking presents that are oddly in his taste, everything comes back to normal. just hanging out in the loft, with cake, food and drinks, telling peter to shut up or he’s gonna leave through the window.
it feels warm and home like and stiles is next to him all this time and everything is fine.
i made myself emotional. happy birthday, derek hale, you grumpy dork.