Hey guys so I’m in need of some extra money and figured I’d open up some slots for commissions! I’m currently studying Metal Arts at the New Brunswick College of Craft and Design and love it dearly. Unfortunately, what I do not enjoy is that we’re required to spend our own money for project materials (primarily silver, which is costly). I’m currently paying $960 a month for rent (my mother lives with me as well, but is dependent on me, as she cannot find a job in this shitty city) along with the cost of internet (which is currently late and keeps getting higher). I do not have a student loan; my schooling is thankfully paid for and I receive a monthly allowance of $675. Obviously, this is not enough money for me to live off of. My current part time job is not offering me enough hours either. I have anxiety and depression and am constantly stressed out about my financial situation. That’s why it would be GREATLY appreciated if I could take on a few extra projects doing something I am greatly passionate about!
This commission post is for CUSTOM orders. As long as you have a concrete idea of what you want, I can definitely make it for you. My specialty right now is rings and pendants. I am putting down base prices, but these can vary depending on complexity and size (the more silver I need to get, the more I have to charge!) Cost of shipping will be determined once the piece is done and weighed.
Rings $35 (+shipping) [prices may vary depending on complexity of the piece
Pendants $45 (+shipping) [prices may vary depending on size of pendant ordered]
(pendant above is currently unfinished)
I am opening up 5 SLOTS. I have other projects to work on while I am doing these, but I will guarantee you you’ll get your piece!
Please let me know via ask or fanmail if you’d like a slot! If you’re not able to buy a slot, please spread this around! Also, visit my metal blog if you’re interested in seeing my progress as a metalsmith and more of my work! :)
OHGOD anon you shouldn’t have done that. You’ve given me the excuse to write something I’ve been wanting to do for a while now.
“Oh, thank God” is the first thing Derek hears when he steps into the Stilinski house.
Scott’s trying to catch his eye – the only information Derek had gotten in his text was approximately “something wrong with Stiles. Go with it ‘til we know more” – but whatever he’s trying to communicate with his wildly arching eyebrows isn’t enough. Derek’s completely unprepared for the way Stiles pushes past Scott and Lydia, sets a hand on Derek’s hip, and leans in like he’s going to kiss him.
Derek jerks back, huffing sharply, expecting to be confronted with a smirk, a joke. Even if this doesn’t carry the flavor of Stiles’ usual humor, it would make far more sense than any alternative.
Because something wrong with Stiles doesn’t nearly cover the concept of Stiles suddenly deciding it’s a good idea to stick his tongue down Derek’s throat.
But Stiles doesn’t smirk, doesn’t tease. No, Stiles pauses, still too close in Derek’s space, and winces like the reaction stings. But then he glances over at the others, grimacing and nodding.
“I know, I don’t know what they’re doing here. At first I thought it was a little Argent emissary thing, but he just keeps asking if I’m ok.” He turns, rolling his eyes, arm sliding to loop around Derek’s waist. It’s all Derek can do not to jump again or swat the hand away. Go with it ‘til we know more. “Like I haven’t told him a thousand times that I’m beyond good here with you.”
Scott’s searching Derek’s face like he’s trying to find an answer there, but Derek’s just as lost as Scott seems to be. Stiles goes on, oblivious, while they frown at each other across the room.
“And now that you can see, yet again, that I’m fine, how about you get the hell out? It still kind of sucks to look at you.”
Scott looks wounded and Stiles just looks down, face carefully blank.
Derek’s head is spinning, his skin tingling where Stiles’ arm grips him. The heat of a warm body radiating against his side is a foreign presence, strange and soothing and decidedly uncomfortable.
Any number of things could be causing Stiles to act like this – from an average concussion to a curse – but whatever the cause, Scott was right in his text. Upsetting Stiles before they know what they’re dealing with would be a bad idea.
The silence has gone on too long. Stiles is shifting against, him, snapping: “I’m serious, Scott. Spit out whatever platitudes Argent sent you to say and get out.”
Derek’s at a loss, and Scott just gapes helplessly. It’s Lydia who finally speaks up, piecing together the perfect amount of vague and honest as she answers: “Stiles, it’s ok. We’re… we’re all working together on something right now.”
Stiles barely reacts, paying her less attention than Derek thought he was capable of. Lydia winces before straightening her shoulders, a small hurt vanishing behind a long-perfected mask. She shoots Derek a significant look. Apparently he’s the only one Stiles will listen to right now.
His head’s still spinning. He clears his throat.
“Right, we are,” is all he can manage, a little gruff in his too-tight throat. Stiles stiffens, looking startled and angry, but not doubtful.
“Seriously? You and them?”
“Yeah.” Derek wishes it had been Lydia that Stiles was cursed to listen to. He has no idea at all how to handle this. “We have a… common interest for the time being.” Stiles is still frowning, and Derek drags his gaze back to Scott. He can’t keep playing this game blind. “Actually, I need to talk to Scott alone for a minute.”
Stiles goes quiet, and when Derek looks over he finds amber eyes narrowed on him softly, searchingly.
“Ok,” Stiles finally breathes, in a way that’s far too intimate for such a small word, that carries layers of respect and trust and fondness that Derek wants to shy away from, that he doesn’t deserve, hasn’t earned. Derek has never known that a gaze could say so much, but Stiles’ eyes are expressing whole soliloquies of “I trust you, I know you’re doing this for a good reason, and I believe that you’ll tell me when I need to know.” It’s so far outside anything Stiles has ever shown him that Derek feels himself getting lost in the expression.
He’s pulled out of it when Stiles’ hand brushes his cheek, has barely enough time to brace himself before Stiles is kissing him, slow and soft. He fights the urge to pull away (don’t upset him, play along, don’t do anything that might damage him further) and there are feelings squirming inside him suddenly, urging Derek to shrink from the contact, to melt into it.
It’s a simple kiss, not at all like a first kiss, as if Stiles and he have been doing this every day for ages and will keep doing it every day for a long time yet.
When Stiles draws back, Derek’s feeling heavy-lidded, chest tight, strangely breathless. Stiles smiles and brushes a finger over Derek’s lip.
“Alright, Big Bad Wolf. Go have your secret summit. I’ll be waiting.”
collapses on to the floor because i’m reading sterek for the first time in forever and i CANNOT HANDLE THIS
الشفاء قد لا تأتي بسرعة، ولكن سوف يأتي
Healing may not come quickly, but it will come
I made a jewelry blog, check it out here !!!