Request: So there’s this song, this one
gorgeous song that makes me emotional and make me feel happy and sad at the
same time. Whether it’s the instrumental version or the vocal, they’re both beautiful
and tell the same thing. The song’s name is Saturn by Sleeping At Last and I
was wondering if you can write a Sherlock x Reader based on this song. How she
changes his perspective on life and it’s meaning. It’s all in your hands, thank
you so much and I love your creations.
You had changed Sherlock’s whole perception in only a year,
just by being you. You taught him so much when he thought he knew everything,
and it was the little things.
He remembered how he had met you in the middle of the park
at midnight, laid on your back on the grass, watching the stars. He thought you
were a victim for a second, but coming closer, he realised you were alive and
well. “What are you doing miss?” He asked you curiously. You took your eyes off
the sky to look at him, a soft smile on his face.
Request: sherlock x reader where the
reader is mute or deaf and she uses ASL to communicate but she is having some
problems with some ignorant people and sherlock jumps into action to help and
Your hearing had always been a problem. You had Grommets
when you were only 5, since your hearing was already bad, but it only seemed to
get worse, and by the time you were 18, there was no point in having hearing
So when you witnessed a murder, you didn’t know what to do.
You hadn’t had speech therapy and you were basically mute, so you couldn’t go
talk to someone. You tried signing to police but they couldn’t understand you.
Tag:@ghcstflower (because you requested a maria X reader 2 centuries ago)
You were a bartender at a local pub near your home. It wasn’t the most ideal job, but you tolerated it. You needed the money, and this was the only choice that you had. Your father abandoned your sister and mother, leaving you as the sole breadwinner of the family. Your mother was too fragile and innocent to work anywhere, and you refused to allow your sister to do anything. She was too young to deal with men and the issues of job life. She was too young to deal with the stress. Your mother suggested that you work at a brothel, but you just shook your head at her.
No thank you.
“Excuse me, miss. You haven’t given me my drink yet, and I’ve been waiting for ten minutes.” A man said to you, snapping you out of your daydreaming. You apologized, grabbed a glass and beer, quickly pouring it. You handed him the glass, and he latched onto it, his fingers tight on yours. “What’s the rush?” He said, a smirk on his face. You frowned, trying to tug off. He resisted, holding even tighter.