Whitzz/544K-RP-Datasets huggingface dataset:
Thread: Showing Feelings (Alexander May & Malomyotismon)

He turned back around, smiling softly. That's the Lucy I know....though I have to wonder....why'd you change just to change back?
Thread: Showing Feelings (Alexander May & Malomyotismon)

Hmmm...i don't know... she said rubbing the back of her neck. Remove your shoes, if you want...i feel more comfortable without them. Dunno if you do... she said nervously.
Thread: Showing Feelings (Alexander May & Malomyotismon)

He took off his shoes frowning as he looked at her. Lucy are you alright? You seem....nervous.
Thread: Hi there, F looking for another F.

any plot suggestions you'd like to pursue?....any kinks?....do you prefer to play a submissive character, or would you consider being dominant?....write me please?
Thread: Hi there, F looking for another F.

Bumps.
Thread: Hi there, F looking for another F.

Bumprs.
Thread: The New Girl Meets The Overfiend (DeRe & ~Rebellious_Desire~)

Somewhere in the fetid depths of hell, a spark shone out. High above the seething infernal masses it rang like a bell through the choked air, before becoming a broad shining circle - a portal. Somewhere, on the Other Side of the boundary, some idiot mortal was attempting - yet again - to summon a demon. In the midst of Hell's teeming morass hunched the Overfiend , the demonic personification of rape and degradation. Long since banished to this wretched dead zone of rejected devils, his frustration and desperation to escape were more than enough fuel to strive upwards towards the light. With his superior power and size he easily clambered over the writhing lesser beings and aimed for the portal of escape. As the fiends below moaned in anger his claws crushed them down and he passed through the shining light, whooping with delight. The obligatory flash of light and reek of sulfur announced his arrival in this plane. In his aspect as a naked, handsome and seemingly normal human male, he had expected to find a coven of worshipers or witches had called him. But he found himself in some sort of bedroom, with a single female kneeling on the floor before a primitive summoning device. Well, hello, he purred. Who are you? I'm Nick.
Thread: The Deduction of Human Emotions (Dreamer- and Elise)

Joan jumped slightly in her seat at the sound of Sherlock's voice by her ear. She got used to the silence very quickly and didn't expect her to talk. She moved the laptop away a bit in a defensive motion, it's not unproductive, she claimed, people like my blog. And yes, I am not going to stop blogging. Although I don't really have a lot to write about, since there is no case. I simply go over the comments and see whether there is anything interesting to read. She paused for a moment, then scrolled down the page a bit and said I know you don't really like the idea of me having a blog. But you know, I like it and it's just something I enjoy doing. I mean, I don't say anything about your beautif- she stopped herself, about your violin. And your habits are clearly more annoying than mine, at least I'm not disturbing your sleep at three in the morning. She didn't want to complain, but she suddenly felt very protective of her blog. It was somewhat important to her, not only because her therapist recommended it in the first place. It was more helpful to her than she admitted, and she had the feeling that she was really good at it. Being good at something besides taking care of people was somehow comforting, considering that she lived in the same apartment as the most talented and unbelievably intelligent person she's ever met. Keeping Joan awake all night was the least irritating thing on the list of the annoying habits of Sherlock Holmes. Watson has seen all sorts of weird things over the time she spent living at 221b Baker Street. Now, she wouldn't be surprised to get home and find Sherlock covered in green jelly and cherries, saying that it was some sort of an experiment. Joan assumed that from Sherlock's perspective she had some annoying habits as well, but she couldn't really see them. Perhaps she was lecturing the woman a lot, but that was necessary considering Sherlock's way of living. Joan looked at Sherlock over her shoulder and sighed. For some reason - she couldn't quite put her finger on it - she couldn't stay mad at the woman for too long. No matter what she did, she was always forgiven. And now, Joan felt as though she was a bit unfair to her and was complaining too much. The music you played was very pleasant, she admitted almost unwillingly, I've never heard someone mastering an instrument quite as good as you. It was more than enough to make up for the lectures and accusations, in her opinion. She returned to her laptop and kept scrolling down, still very aware of Sherlock's presence.
Thread: The Deduction of Human Emotions (Dreamer- and Elise)

At Joan's slight jump a small sly smile spread across her full lips, content and pleased with herself. If was nice to know you could affect others like that, with just your proximity, words, or sneaking up on them. She didn't move from her position behind the chair or leaning over the other woman to get a better look at the computer, but it was mostly in exaggeration. It was predictable that Joan would stand up to defend something that she had come to enjoy as a part of her day to day life. No matter how much the 'hat picture' pissed Sherlock off she wouldn't deprive the doctor of something she truly loved. But that didn't mean she couldn't give her a bit of grief on the matter, messing with her short companion was just to fun to resist. Though with all that aside, she did pick up something interesting in Joan's little rant. Did the good doctor just trip over her tongue there? What was she about to say? Sherlock had a few good guesses and the small smile on her face grew. But the look soon took a condescending turn as she arched her eyebrows and glanced at Joan from the corner of her eye. Oh yes, to true. And yet, if my habits are so 'annoying' then why put up with them? You may loose a couple hours sleep, or need to buy a new kitchen table more frequently then normal individuals, but you find my little habits endearing. On some level that is. Sherlock let out a laugh, adding that last part as an after thought just incase Joan Watson tried to deny it. If you thought about it, and Sherlock's little oddities were really that off putting to the other woman then she would have left months ago. She did enjoy the detective's company, companionship, and the prospect of danger she brought to the table. There really was nothing like chasing a serial killer around London's alleyways at 3 in the morning to get a girl's blood pumping. And Joan Watson was always a nice commodity to have around, having all of the experience that the war in Afghanistan had given her. That subject brought up memories of the night Watson had shot that man just to save Sherlock from herself. Who does that? The complements on her violin playing skills came soon after the rant, and made Sherlock tilt her head to the side. The words came from Joan with a bit of a struggle and it almost made a chuckle escape from Sherlock. Thank you for that slightly reluctant complement, Joan. It warms the cockles of my heart. Her words were meant as a tease and nothing more. She pulled away from Joan, suddenly realizing how close she was to the other woman and starting to feel uncomfortable. Not that being close to Joan was horrible and distasteful but more on the lines that it caused certain feelings to spread throughout Sherlock's limbs. Being close enough to Watson to feel the heat coming off of her skin caused more biological symptoms then emotional. Yet sentiment is just a chemical defect so it could be categorized as neurological she supposed.
Thread: The Deduction of Human Emotions (Dreamer- and Elise)

Sherlock had turned away and went into the kitchen, placing her empty mug on the counter while she made coffee to drink. She quietly listened to Joan's proposal and a small smile came to her face. It was normal for them to get dinner or lunch together sometimes, and they even went out during cases. Dinner usually consisted of talking about research, Joan's job, or even taking cracks at Anderson down at Scotland Yard. Sherlock didn't eat but Joan did, and it was a normal ritual they had settled into some time ago. It was a constant in Sherlock's life, just like Watson. And although constants and normalicy were usually boring, things like this made Sherlock feel grounded. Sometimes it was good to feel grounded, where nothing was up in the air and churning about her mind to no end. Sherlock would never admit to it though, to liking something normal. Sure. That's- Sherlock stopped talking when she heard Joan's mobile starting to ring, and then the rustle of the doctor searching her bag. The coffee was done and poured into the same mug by then, and Sherlock walked into the living room to sit in her chair and watch Joan carry on another conversation. It was lovely to see all of the expressions that could appear on the woman's face in only a few moments. No matter what Watson always seemed to wear her heart on her sleeve. And that was new to Sherlock, where she was used to people trying to hide all of their secrets to the world and putting on a mask. The good doctor didn't do that, and it made Sherlock smile slightly as she went to take a sip of the hot liquid. Yet the smile turned sour as the conversation carried on she didn't need Joan's explanation at the end or the ability to hear the man's voice from the speaker to tell her he was asking Waston out. And when Joan stumbled over her agreement to his idea a hot flash of anger spread through Sherlock's limbs. Her finger's tightened around the mug until her knuckles were white, but she was successful in keeping her expression impassive. She didn't completely understand the cause of this emotional reaction but knew it fell along the lines of what was called jealousy. She wondered if that would mean their own plans were canceled? But as it caused more rage to bubble up she stopped and would wait to contemplate it all later. When Joan hung up the mobile and presented Sherlock with the explanation she couldn't help but mutter an agreement, And I'll help you. The way she said it left no room for doubt that she was being serious. But Sherlock was quick to realize her slip and instantly lightened her tone, and spoke a little more loudly. Yet you said yes? Doesn't that come in conflict with some of those strict laws you have? When she said the phrase 'strict laws', Sherlock mentally rolled her eyes, yet hoped it was the one thing that would stop Joan from pursuing this.
Thread: The Deduction of Human Emotions (Dreamer- and Elise)

Joan looked up, a bit confused when Sherlock said she'll help her. For a moment there, Joan wondered what did Stacy ever do to Sherlock. She was sure the two of them haven't even met, so why...? But before she could properly think about it, Sherlock continued talking. Joan sighed and took her seat in the chair again. I don't know, she said, why did I say yes? I have no idea. I mean, the poor guy sounded so nervous and he definitely had a hard time... She covered her face with her hands and let out a laugh, did I just agree to go out with a patient only to make him feel better? That's just ridiculous. She felt a little pathetic. Of course she was used to helping people and making them feel better, that was her job after all. But sometimes it crossed the line, and she had to remind herself that job and personal life are two different things. Sherlock was right when she mentioned her strict laws, and Joan immediately felt as though this was the worst idea she has ever had. Regret washed over her, and she was completely sure that she can't do it. I'm obviously not going to go out with him, she said, you're absolutely right, it's against the rules. He said he'll call back for details or something, so I'll just tell him that I made a mistake. Oh, the poor guy, he's going to be really upset. Joan didn't like the thought that she's going to upset him, but sometimes it had to be done. Some pills are bitter, but you have to swallow them if you want to get better. Somewhere in the back of her head she could see the image of her slamming Stacy's head against the wall, and the feeling of it was very pleasant. She knew that when she sees Stacy tomorrow none of this will happen, and that she'll just ask her politely not to do this ever again. Yet the thought of bringing this woman physical pain was very satisfying, so she allowed herself to dream a little. We're still going to have dinner, right? she said, it's been a while since we last had dinner together. Maybe that can take your mind off of this boredom a bit. Would you please promise me you won't smoke here tomorrow? Deep inside she was almost sure it was a waste of time, even if Sherlock was to ever promise her, she wouldn't really keep that promise. Joan considered taking away all of her cigarettes, but she knew that wouldn't work either. It really upsets me when you smoke, she finally said, so just please don't do it. I know you can find something else to do when you want to. She yawned and glanced at the clock. It wasn't that late yet, but she was exhausted. I think I'll go to bed, she said, I'll see you tomorrow, and we'll have this dinner. Goodnight, Sherlock. Joan grabbed her laptop and headed to her bedroom, realizing just how much she needed some sleep. Only when she got into her bed and was about to fall asleep, she noticed that she was smiling. The thought about having dinner with Sherlock was somewhat comforting and her good mood was back.
Thread: The Deduction of Human Emotions (Dreamer- and Elise)

Joan was surprised when she walked in and saw her flat-mate all dressed up, and that pleased Sherlock. She was made a bit self aware from the tease but passed it off on the unusualness of the situation. The only response she gave to Watson was a slow nod and went back to reclining on the sofa and staring into space, as if hardly aware of the other woman's presence. That was actually pretty true, since in the time of Sherlock trying to get relaxed on the sofa to Joan getting home, she went into a trance-like state thinking over past cases she had solved. Normally Sherlock would have considered it a complete waste of time and never dwelled the subject, yet for the fact that she was quite in the mood now to waste some time. Sherlock hadn't known that once on the subject she would be completely enveloped by it. This was helpful in getting her mind off tonight, and Watson's own presence. The only thing that brought her back to reality was Joan walking into the living room clothed in a simple yet elegant black dress and heels. For just a moment she felt her airways close up and her heart leap into her throat. But Sherlock was quick to recover, so she stood up and picked up her coat on the way to the door. A part of her was naturally disgusted by these emotions, or the way her body was responding to another person's presence. For so long she had thought sentiment as the enemy, and still wasn't wholly convinced of the opposite. Sherlock could only hope that since things like this were new to her that even the smallest bit of feelings put her off center. She looked over to Watson, tilting her head to the side and looking at her quizzically, You mean about dealing with the secretary and patient of yours? Sherlock asked, opening the door for both of them and locking it behind them. She took the stares two at a time on the way down, absently wondering where Ms. Hudson had been all day. There had been no sounds from the flat below, or anything to indicate a living person was inhabiting the area. It could only be assume that she was spending a day out with Ms. Turner next door. The sun was setting quickly outside, and there was as much traffic as ever in this part of London. Sherlock stepped onto the curb, held up a hand and shouted for a taxi. It no time one was pulling up next to the girls, and Sherlock pulled open the door of the black town car for her companion. It was then she remembered that Joan already had a place in mind to go tonight, which made Sherlock slightly curious. You mentioned yesterday of a place you wanted us to go? What is it? Sherlock knew this city like the back of her hand, every street corner and alleyway, but was still interested on the prospect of where they were headed. When Joan was in the cab Sherlock slid in next to her, closing the door and relaxed against her seat. While waiting for the answer she looked over the cabbie, thinking back to the first case both women had worked. Sadly, this cabbie wasn't a serial killer, might have added a bit more drama to the evening.
Thread: The Deduction of Human Emotions (Dreamer- and Elise)

The restaurant Joan had in mind suddenly sounded weird to her. When she thought about going to this restaurant in the first place, she had in mind a perfectly casual dinner, but their clothes suggested otherwise. For a moment she considered suggesting another place, but then she decided that she shouldn't change her mind just because Sherlock decided to experiment with her style all of a sudden. It's called Balthazar, it's on 46 Russell Street, she finally said, I heard a lot about it, so I thought we should check it out. The ride wasn't too long and soon enough they were standing outside of the restaurant. Joan opened the door for Sherlock and followed her in, where a nice young man offered them to sit by the table that was right beside the window. That's a lovely table, said Joan as she took her seat and noticed how comfortable the chair was, I already like this place. But let's have a look at the menu first. The waiter gave them some privacy to examine the menu, and Joan raised her eyebrows at the prices. Not bad, she said, I expected it to be a bit more expensive. Joan was quite predictable when it came to her taste in food, so it didn't take her too long to make up her mind. She also knew that Sherlock didn't usually eat, no matter how much she tried to talk to her about it. Despite the fact that Joan knew very well about Sherlock's habits, she felt responsible and had to be polite enough to ask every single time. So, are you not going to eat again? she said, the food here looks very nice, you should try it. I promise it won't kill you, unlike many other things you like to do for fun. Joan glanced at Sherlock over her menu and smiled. The waiter came back the moment Joan put down her menu, as though he was only waiting for her to do so. Joan made her order, when suddenly the waiter allowed himself to throw in a few suggestions. Would you like some wine, maybe? he said, and looked from Sherlock to Joan. No, thank you, said Joan, I'll just have a glass of water. But the waiter insisted - are you sure? he said, we have a very fine collection, it's down there in the menu. I'd like to suggest this one, it'd make any date perfect. The waiter pointed at one of the wines mentioned in the menu, and Joan rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration. We're not - we're not on a date, she said, we're not a couple, we're just two women having dinner. No wine, thank you. The waiter seemed confused for a moment. He looked at Joan's dress again and glanced at Sherlock's clothes, then shrugged and said oh, I just thought... Alright then, my apologies. How about you, miss? Would you like to order anything? he addressed Sherlock, and Joan just couldn't understand why all of these assumptions about her were made lately. Was there a huge sign over her head that read gay in big bold letters? It was beyond her understanding.
Thread: The Deduction of Human Emotions (Dreamer- and Elise)

Sherlock looked around the restaurant they entered, hands stuffed into pockets and staring at the serving staff. Once those people got boring, which was quick, she went on to examining the building itself. It was a nice place but you could tell how long it had been around from a bit of chipped paint or peeling wallpaper in the corners. The carpet had been replaced around 2 to 3 times? Clearly they tried to keep up on appearances but kept it all very simple, not like they had enough money to be extravagant anyway. A modest place that lived on the reputation of having good food, how normal. There was probably even a cook in the kitchen that didn't sanitize his hands all the time or a waiter that shortchanged his colleges tip's. How comically predictable people could be, with their simplistic lives and trivial problems. Yet, no matter how much enjoyment Sherlock got out of picking others apart, tonight she had to focus on studying Joan. She was snapped to attention by Joan asking her if she was going to eat, and while she rolled her eyes in response, she couldn't help but give a small smile. Nope, I've got a few days left. Sherlock gave her a quick, closed lip smile before the waiter came over to take orders. What played out next was quite funny, and informative. Joan was still stressed out and was getting irritated over people making that simple 'mistake'. Though it was becoming clear to Sherlock, that if all of these other moronic individuals noticed it right off the bat, why hadn't they? But now only one was in the dark, a wrong that Sherlock was intending to right. Yes, Joan's reactions to other people's comments was a bit disconcerting, but the detective just rationalized it. She was nothing if not stubborn. No, nothing for me, Sherlock absentmindedly waved him off and sent him away, her focus now purely on observing Joan Watson. So how was your day at the clinic? You seem a bit... irritated. Sherlock motioned with her hand to Joan, referring to the way she snapped a bit at the waiter. Yet all the time there was a smug and sly smirk clinging to her lips, as if teasing the doctor for her actions. It was a calm and lazy remark, nothing that would be libel to produce any suspicion. Plus, knowing Watson, she would want to tell all about her day. And so Sherlock was just giving a blank canvas, and letting Joan spill her guts. For one, it would make Joan pleased to know that Sherlock actually listened, but more importantly, it would give the detective valuable information about her test subject.