“Fic where, in a fit of post-break-up, drunken depression, stiles throws together a truly pathetic love spell (really, Lydia would be so unimpressed she’d probably disband their weekly magic lessons) in an attempt to find the perfect partner.
But, like everything else in Stiles’ life (and as proof to how much joy the universe gets pulling one over on him) everything goes horribly wrong and instead of the feathery light, rose petal path he’d been expecting to appear and lead him to his true love, a half naked man with harlequin biceps and a beard that could rival most lumber jacks appears in his minimalist studio apartment looking grumpy and endearingly confused.
Cue Stiles’ imminent freak out that includes shoving the man in his hall closet because “Oh my god, I manifested a burly mountain man out of thin air!!”
When really, the spell had just transported Derek from whatever secluded cabin he’d been holed up in for the last few years right into Stiles’ life.”
Sometimes It Just Works
“No, no, no, no, no!”
Stiles paces his hall, rubbing at his scalp, trying to think of a quick reversal.
It’s because I was thinking about that sex slave spell, Stiles chides himself, I didn’t want to summon a sex slave. I mean, I did, but I didn’t mean to! I’m not even into beards! Unless… I am and I don’t know yet…
Stiles’ interest is piqued when his brain supplies something like, ‘what if your magically conjured sex slave is aware of hidden kinks you don’t know you have?’
He twists around to face the closed closet door, conspiracy glistening in his eyes.
Then he smacks his left cheek and chants to himself, “no, no. That is a bad Stiles.”
“Stiles?”
He jumps away from the closet door, fumbling for the steel bat he keeps by the foyer.
“Go back to where you came from, Burly Sex Man!”
The closet door knob turns and it opens very slowly. The man’s nose peaks out, nostrils flaring like he’s scenting the air, then the door opens more widely for him to step out.
He’s not wearing shoes, the bottoms of his jeans are dirty and tattered, his cotton t-shirt is threadbare and low-cut. His arms are huge, his hair dark and eyebrows thick. Very thick.
Sterek AU: Stiles thinks he might have fallen asleep or had a bit too much to drink (it’s totally Scott’s fault because he didn’t come to watch over him) and now there is a naked Derek in front of him. But Derek was just on a run in his wolf form until the scent of StilesStilesStiles hit him.
“Alright, here we go,” Derek said softly, maneuvering Stiles’ coltish limbs to get him seated on the bed without toppling both of them over in an inebriated heap. Stiles made an indignant noise at the man-handling, and Derek bit back a smile. Occasionally he regretted not being able to get drunk himself, but it was amusing enough to see his friends in this state. He knelt and started loosening the laces of Stiles’ shoes, murmuring, “let’s take these off.”
Once his charge was in sock feet, Derek got him standing again, manfully ignoring how handsy Stiles he was being. As usual. Was it a lack of inhibitions or lack of balance that made the difference? He could never tell.
“C’mon, let’s get you into some sweats,” he encouraged, hoping Stiles was at least sober enough to change his own pants.
The running commentary was as much for his benefit as Stiles’. It played into that familiar, worn persona: Derek the responsible older friend, bringing Drunky McDrunkface home safe and tucking him in because the kid didn’t know how to hold his liquor. Youths!
That was who he was supposed to be, anyways. God knows they weren’t anything else to each other. The big brother role didn’t quite fit now, if it ever had, but framing things that way still seemed infinitely preferable to coming at this situation – alone with Stiles in his dimly-lit room, helping him out of his stiff jeans and into soft sleep clothes – without any emotional barriers in place.
Stiles snorted back a giggle, tripping over his own feet a little as he slung an arm around Derek’s shoulder, grabbing at his wrist with the other hand for balance. “Derek.”
“What?” Stiles had moved to clutching his bicep, now, face bobbing close enough that Derek could smell the crisp gin on his breath. It was gross, he reminded himself. He resented Scott for sending him home to deal with Stiles while he and Kira stayed out celebrating their new degrees. He did.
“Derek, I…” Stiles broke off in a laugh again. “I…”
You… what? Derek wondered, but he suppressed his curiosity with gritted teeth. As if Stiles’ teasing wasn’t irritating enough sober. At least then it was usually comprehensible. “If you can’t spit it out now, just tell me tomorrow wen you’re sober.”
Stiles squinted at him, a surprisingly steady and weighing look. “Okay,” he said finally.
“Okay,” Derek echoed, glancing back at the bed. “Well, let’s…”
The kiss took him entirely by surprise, enough that his knees bumped the edge of the bed and buckled.
In which Stiles finds himself dreaming about our resident Sourwolf more often than he cares to admit. And the one time he gets drunk, starts babbling about what he think’s a very vivid hallucination, but in reality, Derek freaking Hale turns out to actually be There. In. Person. to hear about these fantasies of one very inebriated Stiles a la Stilinski.
I really wish someone would write this. ZOMG. Talk about perfection.
Summary: Derek explained the situation as clearly as he could while leaving out his own relationship with the boys, the alcohol at the party, and the fact they knew Jackson was responsible. Or that any werewolves were
involved. Or that Stiles had turned out to be such a responsive little
perv.
Info: 6k | Teen and Up
Notes: It’s 2 am and I just remembered the scene from this fic and I just had to find it and I remembered how awesome it was, hence the rec. Drunk!Stiles, helping Derek and cool Sheriff. Just read it and smile guys, to sterek! – K.
Sneak Peek:
“Stiles, when I kiss you, it won’t be because I pity you,” Derek said, feeling the last of his resolve crumbling away until Stiles looked
at him with obvious trust. He pushed the teenager away and held him
there. It felt like holding fire in the palm of his hand. “If you
remember one thing from tonight, remember that.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing with my son?”
“Nothing!”
Derek yelped, the word shot out like a kneejerk reaction. Sheriff
Stilinski stood in the doorway, blocking the light from inside. Derek
winced, easing away from Stiles … who promptly toppled over into the
bushes. “Well, shit.”
“My name is Sh-tiles.”He tests it out. No, not
right. “Sh-ties? Sh-ti? Stiles!” He yells and then
promptly begins laughing. It’s a funny word. “My name is funny.”
He laughs again and looks around, he’s outside, yeah, he can see the
street. And he’s – sitting down? On the ground? Why? He tries to
stand up, fails.
Nope. He giggles. Maybe he should stay here and take a nap, he’s kind
of tired. And hungry. Hmmn, pizza. “I want pizza.” He says. Where
can he get pizza?
“Stiles!” Someone screams.
Hey, it’s his name! “I’m Stiles!” He yells. “I know that!” He
laughs again when someone kneels in front of him. “I’m Stiles!”
“Yes, you are.” The guy says, mutters thank God and I told you to stay inside. He has
green eyes, Stiles likes green eyes.
“Your eyes are pretty.” He has pretty lips too, Stiles kind of
wants to kiss them. “Can I kiss you?”
The guy closes his eyes, shakes his head. “Not now. Let me take you
home first.”
“Why?” Stiles whines as the guy helps him stand up. Hmmnn, Stiles
leans his head against the guy’s shoulder, it’s warm. It’s definitely
nicer than the ground, maybe he should take a nap. “Hmmmnn.”
He sighs. “I like you.” He slurs, closing his eyes happily.
–
He startles awake when he feels someone messing with his shoes.
“Gah!” He screams, jumping back and nearly falling off a
bed. “The fuck? Who are you?” He keeps screaming, reaches for a
pillow and throws it at the guy’s head.
“Stiles –” The guy starts, raising his hands, “calm down.”
“I’m calm!” He answers. Wasn’t he calm? He’s calm! The calmest!
The most calm! The guy keeps staring at him. His eyes are green.
“Green eyes.” He says, laughs when the guy raises an eyebrow.
“Your eyes are pretty.” He reaches for the guy’s face, but it’s
too far. He whines. Why is it that far? “Eyebrows.” He slurs and
laughs.
This was definitely inspired by How I Met Your Mother. No regrets.
2:15 AM
“Dude, admit it,” Stiles slurs. “We’d be great parents!”
Derek nods empathetically. “We would be!”
Stiles looks at him with wide eyes. “We should totally adopt a baby!”
“We should adopt a baby!”
–
Earlier that night, 9:35 PM
“Still bummed out about the breakup?” Derek asks, coming up behind Stiles. It’s a chilly night so Derek’s glad he decided to wear the dark purple cable knit sweater Laura got him as an early Christmas present.
Stiles gives an indifferent shrug. “Meh.”
“Liar.”
“Pathetic, isn’t it?” Stiles murmurs, sipping his drink. “Goddamn, Allison makes a mean drink.”
Derek huffs, taking a sip of his own coke-infused vodka. He makes a face at the burn in his throat. “She does, and it’s not pathetic.”
Stiles frowns. “What? Of course, it’s not. Allison is the best bartender ever. She knows what my heart wants and needs. She’s gifted, not pathetic.”
“I meant about your breakup, dumbass.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, it’s not pathetic.”
Stiles snorts, staring out at the city as he leans on the balcony railing. “You don’t have to treat me with kid gloves, man. Admit it. I’m twenty-eight, stuck in a job that I hate, trying to find the person of my dreams so I can finally settle down, but instead–,” he cuts off, shaking his head. “I’m wasting my time. What am I doing wrong, Derek? I don’t get it.”
Derek looks away, leaning on the railing beside Stiles. Despite the warmth of the sweater, tiny little goosebumps erupt on his skin from the way Stiles leans into him for a moment too brief for Derek’s liking before pulling away.
“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Derek finally manages to say, but this only makes Stiles roll his eyes. “No, hey, listen, you’re not! You’re a great guy. Think I’d hang out with you if you weren’t?”
“I always thought it was because of my sparkling wit.”
Derek snorts. “I think you meant to say despite your sparkling wit.”
Stiles smacks his stomach, making him smile. “Fucker.”
“Stiles, you’re a great guy and one day, you’re going to find someone who not only appreciates that but loves it. And your age is a number. I mean, look at me. I’m almost thirty-three.”
Stiles checks his watch. “Three more hours, buddy.”
“I think the most important part is to keep trying. You might strike out, but at least you’ll have tried.”
“Easy to say when you look like that,” Stiles points out, waving his hand at Derek’s general everything and it infuriates him. If there’s anything Derek hates more than cocky, drunk Stiles, it’s self-deprecating, drunk Stiles. Self-deprecating Stiles never sees what Derek sees; he sees the failed relationships, the minute insecurities, the inability to settle down.
Derek sees the Stiles that’s always trying and hoping for something more, the confidence he gives other people when they’re doubting themselves, and the ability to keep going. Derek sees the strong, loyal, honest version of Stiles and it really gets to him when Stiles turns a blind eye to all of that.
“So why am I single?” Derek asks instead. Truth be told, there’s only one reason Derek’s still single and he’s staring at it.
Stiles squints at him. “Why are you single? You can go to any bar and I bet you can get any guy to bend over backward with just one word.”
“We already made that bet and you already won,” Derek points out.
“Exactly! So why are you single?”
Derek opens his mouth to say it, to finally admit to Stiles something that he’s been wanting to say for close to two years now, but chickens out at the last second. “I don’t know.”
“Another Christmas, another lonely year.” Stiles sighs, gulping the last of his drink. “I’m gonna go inside and get another drink. Want a refill?”
Derek shakes his head. “I’m good with this, thanks.”
–
2:20 AM
“Wait, wait, wait,” Derek shushes him, making Stiles pout. “We can’t do this.”
“But Derek–”
“We have to name the baby! We can’t just call it ‘the baby’!”
Stiles looks at him with awe. “Dude, you are so right! What about Luke?”
Derek wrinkles his nose at him. He opens his mouth but closes it with a pop. “What if the baby is a girl? I like girls better. Means I can have a gun and pretend to clean it when she brings a boy over. Or a girl. Whoever she wants.”
“Leia!”
“We can’t call the baby Leia!”
“Why not?”
“Because! No, wait, because, that’s gonna – hic – our dog’s name!”
“We have a dog?” Stiles gasps, nearly knocking over the red cup. He leans over, smacking both his hands on Derek’s face and holding it tightly. “Der, you can’t lie, kay? We have a dog?”
Derek almost stumbles back at Stiles’s weight but manages to right himself. “Of course we have a dog, idiot. What family with kids doesn’t have a dog?”
Up close, Stiles’s eyes are very shiny and brown. They may also be sparkling.
“Der, we’d be a family! That’s all I’ve ever wanted!”
Derek hiccups again, blinking his eyes. He feels himself leaning over onto Stiles but Stiles steadies him. This is nice, he thinks. It should always be like this. Derek falling over and Stiles catching him.
“I’d always catch you, idiot.”
“Huh?”
“You just said–no wait, back to Leia the puppy. No, wait, before that. If Leia’s the puppy, what do we name our baby daughter?”
Derek thinks for a second. “Can we name her Natalia?”
Stiles gives him a hopeful look. “Natalia Claudia Stilinski-Hale?”
Derek beams. “ Yes!”
–
11:24 PM
“Excited for the big 3-3?” Stiles asks, humming pleasantly.
Derek shrugs, looking at him through his periphery. “Age is but a number.”
Stiles laughs. “C’mon, seriously.”
“What’s not to enjoy? I’m gonna be 33, I’ll be a real adult–”
“I thought that happened at the big 3-0?”
Derek snorts. “Apparently we didn’t get that memo.”
Stiles laughs. “Damn straight.”
“I’m–I’m just so happy, y’know? Like despite all the shitty stuff that we’ve all been through. I’m so glad I get to look around that room–” Derek says, pointing at the living room behind them. “–and see all the people that I love and care about and know that I get to have them all for another year. That I got to have all of them for 33 years and I can have them for another one.”
Stiles gives him a considering look, before slowly breaking out into a smile. “Dude, you’re so drunk. You’re getting all cheesy and shit.”
Derek shoves him half-heartedly, making him giggle. “Nuh uh!”
“Yuh huh!”
“Nuh uh!”
“Yuh huh!”
2:30 AM
“We should go adopt Luke or Natalia right now!” Stiles says after a few minutes of quiet, making Derek lose his train of thought.
“Hm? Whazzat now?” Derek squints at him. “Who’s Luke? Is that your new boyfriend?”
Stiles gives an exaggerated gasp. “How dare you, sir? I would never cheat on you!”
Derek gives him a dopey smile. “Good.” He pats Stiles on the cheek. “I’d never cheat on you either. I love you so much,” he emphasizes it by throwing his arms out, almost knocking Stiles down.
“Aw, bro! We’d be the best parents ever!”
“Obviously!” Derek grins before something occurs to him. “We can call this Operation: Bro Parenting!”
Stiles gasps. “Ohmygawwwwwd, yes!” He stumbles upright and punches the air. “Operation: Bro Parenting is a go!”
–
11:54 PM
“Dude, dude, dude,” Stiles grins at him. “You’re going to be 33 in like five minutes. Oh man!”
Derek nods. “I’m going to be so wise and old and you better listen to me. With age comes wisdom and I’ve seen the future, Stiles! I’ve seen, um, wait, you’re 28.” He starts counting on his fingers, blinking when his fingers don’t stop fusing into bigger fingers. He shakes his hands and smiles when everything’s normal again. “Yeah, I’ve seen like five years of the future, Stiles!”
Stiles’s mouth drops open and all he can think of is how pretty Stiles’s lips are and how much he just wants to touch them and kiss them and–
“Do we still have stuffed pizza crusts, Derek? There’s still Uber right? I don’t know how I’d survive without Uber, Derek!”
Derek pats him on the head. “It’s okay. We’ll go first thing in the morning. That way, we’ll beat the – hic – crowd and get the best one.”
“You’re a genius.”
–
1:20 AM
“Okay, you’re cut off,” someone who looks oddly like Scott says, taking Derek’s drink away.
“You can’t do that! My mom said never to waste food or drinks and I still have so much left!” Derek argues. “Also, tell your Scott #2 to stop. When did we get two of you anyways?”
“Yeah, bro, you can’t waste alcohol,” Stiles says wisely. He tries to reach out for the drink but Scott #1 – the rude one – does something with magic and suddenly, the red cup is gone.
“Woah, when did Scott #1 learn magic?” Derek whispers to Stiles.
“I think Scott #2 taught him.”
“True. Okay, Scott #2 can stay,” Derek declares. “I’m the birthday boy and what I say goes.”
“Huzzah!” Stiles crows.
“Yeah, you’re cut off too,” Scott #1 says and takes Stiles’s cup away but Stiles doesn’t even care. In fact, he smiles happily at Scott #1 and then winks at Derek.
Derek grins dopily and elsewhere, Scott #1 and Scott #2 facepalm.
–
2:05 AM
“You’re my bestest friend, Stiles.” Derek says. “I wish – hic – I wish we could just be one, y’know?”
“Like one person? Dude, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. That’s too much awesome in one person. The world isn’t ready for that.”
Derek nods wisely. “You’re right. Okay, we can be two people. But we should like be one unit. Like a furniture unit. Oh, oh, like a bookcase! You’re the shelf and I’m the, um, like the case without any shelves. So we’re both kinda useless but when you put me and you together, we can be a bookcase!”
Stiles claps his hands. “I’d love to be bookshelves with you! But, like who can we get to be the books?”
Derek thinks about that for a second, before snapping his fingers. “Babies!”
“Babies are books?”
“Yeah, like we can get a bunch of babies and they can be the books on our bookcase and all together we’d be the prettiest bookcase in the world!”
Stiles nods with a big smile on his face. “Yes, and we should be the classy bookcase. Like not some shitty Ikea Billy case. We should be an elegant, hand-crafted mahogany bookcase.”
“ Yes! ” Derek agrees. “Wait, but we don’t have girl parts. How can we have books without girl parts?”
Stiles gasps loudly, jumping in his spot. “We should adopt the books!”
“Yeah?”
“Dude, admit it! We’d be great parents!”
–
The next afternoon, 2:33 PM
Derek opens his eyes for less than a second before he shuts them, yanking the blanket over his head and curling up in a fetal position. Too much brightness, too much sun, too much everything. Jesus Christ, what the hell did he do last night?
He lays in bed for a solid twenty minutes, trying to get his head to stop feeling like it wants to melt into a puddle, before pushing the blanket off and slowly opening his eyes.
“Did I drink my entire apartment last night?” he asks, not expecting anyone to answer.
Which is why he jumps when he hears Laura snicker and say, “Um, yeah. Also, Stiles is here.”
At that, Derek immediately sits up, heart thudding so loudly he’s sure Laura can hear. “Stiles is here?”
“Stiles is here.”
“Why?!”
Laura raises a brow at him and motions to the living room. “I think you should see for yourself. You should probably put some pants on first though.”
Derek frowns, but does as she says, hands shaking the whole time. He tries to think of what happened the night before but comes up short. Truthfully, he doesn’t even know how he ended up in bed. All he can remember is being out on the balcony with Stiles and drinking. A lot.
He doesn’t know what he’s expecting when he gets to the living room but he can honestly say that a black husky puppy with a red and silver bow around his neck, jumping up at the sight of Derek isn’t it. The puppy runs straight to Derek, tumbling into his legs, hopping onto its back feet and reaching up.
“What the–,” Derek asks, leaning down to pick up the puppy, checking to see if it’s a girl or boy. It’s then that he notices Stiles standing in the corner, biting his lips with nervousness. “Stiles, why is there a dog?”
Laura snorts. “Um, as much as I’d love to watch this happen, I’ll give you two sometime.” She winks at him before whisking off into her room. Stiles clears his throat, fingers fidgeting and looking oddly out of place in an apartment he should be very comfortable with.
Derek looks between the puppy and Stiles, still stunned.
The silence stretches over for too long before Derek finally clears his throat. “So, the puppy is for…?”
“That’s Leia,” Stiles squeaks. Derek frowns, because that name sounds weirdly famil–
“Oh my god,” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut from the embarrassment as the memories from last night flood his brain.
“I–you–the baby store was closed today but I remembered Deaton had the puppy and she always reminded me of you whenever I saw her and I went this morning after to see if she was still there because then it would be a sign, y’know, from like the universe. And she was! She was there and Deaton was there and I was there and all I could think of was you and what we talked about last night and it just made sense. Oh, happy birthday, by the way,” Stiles rambles, eyes widening in horror at the word vomit.
Something like hope flutters in Derek’s chest. “So you got me…Leia?”
“I-I don’t think we’re ready for Luke or Natalia, but oh Jesus, I really didn’t think this through, did I?” Stiles trails off, looking mortified. Derek smiles slightly, clutching Leia tighter to himself.
“We?” Derek asks, just to be a little shit, but his smile grows bigger when Stiles flushes. “I don’t remember being asked to be a ‘we’.”
Stiles narrows his eyes at him. “Today’s Christmas, asshole. You can’t just read between the lines and save me the embarrassment?”
Derek smirks. “It’s my birthday first. I can do whatever I want.”
Stiles snorts, shuffling his feet adorably. He peers at Derek, giving him a thoughtful look. “Technically, you already asked me to be a bookcase with you remember?”
Derek looks at him, bemused, before it clicks and he flushes. “Oh fuck off.”
Stiles gasps, covering Leia’s tiny ears. “Language, Derek! We have highly impressionable minds here!”
“I hate you.”
“Liar, liar,” Stiles sings.
“For the record, I don’t want to be bro-parents with you,” Derek murmurs, staring intently into Stiles’s eyes.
“That’s cool. I don’t either,” Stiles whispers, all shy and cute. He scratches Leia behind the ear, making her yip happily. Derek leans closer to Stiles, shifting just slightly so Leia doesn’t get smushed between them. “I guess I’ll settle for being real parents with you someday.”
“I’m sorry it took me so long,” Stiles admits sheepishly. “I guess I never really let myself hope that I could have you. It was just easier to keep looking elsewhere; it hurts less when someone you’re not really into rejects you.”
Derek looks down at Leia, heart full of warmth and happiness. “I’m glad you tried one more time. I have a feeling it’ll be the last time you’ll have to.”
They grin at each other and Derek finally feels it; that sense of completeness that he’s been aching for.
Derek is all set and ready to go to bed. He has his pajamas on (the yoga pants Laura sent him that were mostly a joke) and he has the apartment all locked up for the night, everything turned off and his bed is turned down, just waiting for him to crawl in.
It’s been a long week.
See, he had his last game of the season this week. The Falcons didn’t make it too far in the playoffs but Derek wasn’t too upset about it: he was really ready to spend some quality time in his apartment instead of on a bus or in hotels on the road. Besides, their team is pretty new, they made a lot of progress over this season but it just wasn’t enough to beat out the more experienced, more seasoned team they were seeded against in the playoff tournament.
The best part about playing baseball at times is the off season. He really likes his team but eventually Derek’s introverted nature gets tired of constantly being surrounded by his teammates and coaches. His first week on break he spends holed up in his apartment, completely alone just sleeping and reading and completely enjoying himself.
Everybody on the team knows that. And he knows the veteran players told the newbies not to call or text him for the week because no one has.
“Is…soladalary. No, no. Solid-ari-teeeee,” Stiles announces, pointing toward Derek’s inebriation-softened face with the bottle of Jack he liberated from his dad. “If. If you. Mmm hmm. If you jump, I jump.”
Derek considers this for a long, tense minute before folding his entire upper body over until his face is a few inches from his knees. “’M not jumpin’? ’M sittin’.”
“Oh.” Stiles turns his head so he can also focus on Derek’s knees for a bit. “’S good. I don’t wanna jump. Might puke, an’ thas not good.”
“You’re both idiots,” Cora butts in to say, only to roll her eyes and walk away when Stiles hisses at her.
Stiles scooches across the ground on his back until he’s close enough to pat Derek’s face. “Dun listen to her,” he says. “She’s jus’ jealous. The weird plant spores din’t get her drunk. Druuuunk.” Stiles giggles, reaching up to poke at his numb lips with his finger. “Drooonk. Draaaank. Dreeeenk. Hey, Derek?”
Something wet swipes against his hand, making Stiles shriek, high and loud, before he realizes it’s just Derek. Licking his hand. Because Stiles left it patting against Derek’s face.
“Oops. S’ry.”
“Mmm. ’M cold,” Derek says, still sounding like he’s speaking aloud the most profound wisdom of the universe. “Thank you for jumpin’ w’ me,” he slurs, rolling his head to look at Stiles, his eyes wide, their inky black lashes mere shadows in the night.
“Is not right to be drunk by y’rself,” Stiles sighs happily before abandoning the half empty bottle in favor of wrapping himself around Derek. “Am glad you got white girl wasted by the plant thingy. Not…other things.”
Derek snuggles against him, making noises like he agrees even though his mouth is half-parted and smooshed against Stiles’ neck. “Smells good,” he mutters before his light snores start echoing around their clearing.
“Fucking idiots,” Cora grumbles, but it doesn’t count because if a werewolf curses in the forest when no one is awake to hear it, it doesn’t actually happen.
shealwaysreads 