Okay, so I'm listening to the dramatic reading of "My immortal" by a couple of famous let's players/youtubers so if this story is total and utter shit, I totally blame the influence of said fic. It's a monstrosity. Okay, no if this fic turns out to be total and utter shit, well that's what I was going for.

Reading countless tumblrposts of people complaining about Mary Sues, I kinda decided to write this. I saved it under "Reference for future usage: what qualities not to use or How Not To Write OCs "
This is totally over the top and every cliché I could think of is used, so please for the sake of your sanity, do not take this shit seriously. I want to dedicate this to the tumblr blog
.com who has no idea I exist but her blog inspired me to do this...

Hey, my name is Mary Sue, I'm 18 years old, have golden-blonde hair that somehow always falls into place without extensive grooming, my eyes are silver-blue-ish and I am pretty slim, yet still curvy. And no, that's totally possible and does NOT look out of proportion. I can speak 12 languages, and I also play violin, piano, guitar, bass and I am officially a genius with an IQ of 160. I often wear my blonde locks in a braid around my head and of course when I fart it smells like rainbows and roses.

I absolutely adore reading, especially stuff like Shakespeare (OMG isn't Romeo and Juliet totally romantic?!) and poesy and stuff.

So you see, I'm totally not like everyone else, but I really don't brag about it. When I was 12 my parents died in a terrible car accident, which lead me to live with my uncle. DI Gregory Lestrade.

So one day, I followed my uncle to a crime scene. This might sound like totally impossible, but since I am a genius my uncle let me help him whenever I want. I was dressed as always, a white, lacy shirt which was see-through at the front, but of course I wore a grey top underneath it so it would still look very classy and shiny, skinny black trousers. My nails were painted white and I wore my favourite perfume, Daisy by Mark Jacobs, and my grey shoes perfectly matched the top I was wearing. I hadn't put on any make up though. I never wear make up, except for like, lipstick and eye-liner and mascara. Because girls who wear make up are just insecure and ugly.

When I arrived at the crime scene Greg was already there.

"Hey, Mary," he greeted me,"wanna take a look?"

"Please!" a sexy voice said, and I turned around only to see the hottest guy ever.

"Ah, yes Sherlock. Well, this is my niece, Mary. You'll find her a very good assistant I'm totally sure."

Sherlock looked at me, his blue orbs were shining in the fade light and his soft curls just looked so unbelievable silky. I just wanted to run my hands through it.

"I usually don't work with other people." he said.

"I'm not your usual human. I'm fairly smart and I'm sure I'll somehow be able to help you."

Sherlock shrugged, yet somehow he couldn't keep his eyes off of me. Which, okay, I'm used to that but this guy was really smoking diddly damn hot! There was something absolutely paralysing about the way his blue orbs were shining and his pale skin glistened.

His piercing gaze made me feel slightly uncomfortable, so I quickly tried to step away from him...and stumbled. I fell right in his arms.

"Gotcha!" he said, while our eyes met..again. I could feel the sexual tension building up between us and shivers were running down my spine.

"Thank you," I murmured.

"Don—Don't mention it"

He looked at me in a way nobody has ever looked at me before. Like Kristen Bell looks at sloths. The way Mark Gatiss looks at Ian Hallard. The way Mycroft looks at cake.

"If we solve this case, which I of course already did, will you go out with me?" he asked while blushing.

"Yes, of course. Tonight? 8? I'll pick you up" I winked and was satisfied to see how his blush intensified.

Of course Greg had told me that Sherlock is absolutely asexual but somehow that didn't apply when it came to me. I guess I just changed something inside him.

While I was walking home my phone started ringing.

I picked up only to hear the voice of my ex boyfriend Connor.

"MARY SUE!" he screamed-

"I heard you're dating this ugly detective! I'm so going to kill you!"

My hands started shaking and I quickly ran home. And because I was terrified so much I totally forgot about my date. After taking a warm bath and moisturising my skin with my favourite vanilla-scented lotion to calm down I dressed in my comfiest sweatpants that somehow still hugged my curves and a sport top because it was unbelievably hot. Standard weather in London really.

I sat down on my couch, which was a gift from my uncle's boyfriend. Mycroft Holmes. He had actually bought me the flat. It was in the middle of London and really big and beautiful.

I quickly took out my favourite book, Lolita and started to read. Soon I was totally transported into the world of the most romantic love story ever written. Humbert Humbert was just so hot and endearing, I really wished I would find someone like him. And without wanting it, my thoughts quickly wandered off to Sherlock. Picturing him as H.H. and me as little Lolita.

Suddenly there was a knock at my door, I was absolutely terrified because it might just be Connor.

So I quickly grabbed a crowbar which was, of course, randomly lying beside me. But, lucky for me, it was only Sherlock.

"O-M-G!" I exclaimed, "I totally forgot I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay, what's wrong?" he asked, looking worried.

"It's my ex-boyfriend. He's jealous because he found out that we were going out tonight...He threatened me!" I said, and I slowly started crying.

He comforted me and soon I found myself lying on the couch safe in Sherlock's arms.

"you smell so good", he said, "like...vanilla and roses and chocolate."

I blushed, looking up at him. He smiled while he looked at my lips, slowly leaning in.

"Don't worry about Connor, I'll protect you." he whispered just before his lips met mine.

I opened my mouth in sync with his and soon our tongues were battling for dominance. He tasted like cinnamon, sweet tea and cigarettes. It was absolutely intoxicating. I opened my mouth even wider and I could feel his tongue licking the roof of my mouth. As we both stopped in need for air I looked him in the eye.

"I love you, Mary," he whispered, his forehead touching mine. "Please move in with me!"

I nodded and smiled. For once in my life something good happened to me! I had never expected something like this to happen and I just couldn't believe my luck.

I knew we were just made for each other!