newsockfeeling ([personal profile] newsockfeeling) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet2017-05-17 06:55 pm
Entry tags:

Not all secrets are bad


SECRET relationship;


The fact that you're in a relationship with this person isn't public knowledge. Actually, no one knows about it except for the people involved. Maybe you guys are just private like that; on the other hand, it may be a necessity to keep things a secret from others. Maybe you're both team mates, and others on the team would give you grief, or you're not suppose to be dating, or you're not the type to usually date and you're only testing the waters. Perhaps it's the combination of you two, possibly an odd couple, that would bring some controversy or some teasing. Or, you know, you could not want to deal with friends and relatives being busybodies. Your reasons are your own.

Are you content with stealing moments to be together as a couple? Do you want to make your relationship known and the fact that you can't drives you batty? Remember, there are lots of benefits to dating in secret. You can be yourselves completely, away from prying eyes, and get to know each other better as potential longterm romantic partners. In a way, it's ideal.

...still, do you ever wish you could scream from the rooftops how much you care for your significant other?


how to play.
★ Comment with your character, preferences, and information.
★ Reply to others.
★ Play out stolen moments (◡‿◡✿), secret dates (◕‿◕✿), secret handholding (⊙‿⊙✿), and secret kissing ( /)w(\✿)!
cantprotect: (Default)

Kurt Weller | Blindspot | ota

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Cisco Ramon || The Flash

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Barry Allen || The Flash

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redarrowqueen: (10)

Re: Barry Allen || The Flash

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(Cliche as ever but Thea? She's canon through the crossover but I'm current and more than willing to adjust certain canon things too.)
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Joan Watson | Elementary | m/f

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readyforafight: (smirk)

Cersei Lannister | Game of Thrones

[personal profile] readyforafight 2017-05-21 05:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Would prefer Jaime, PG/fade to black
Open to canon or AU
Edited (Icon) 2017-05-21 17:01 (UTC)
uncledad: (34)

[personal profile] uncledad 2017-05-23 09:04 pm (UTC)(link)
In the Red Keep, the banners have all been changed, and the stag now dances in the places where the Mad King's dragons once stood. And in the throne room, the dragon skulls have all been taken away, and the noise of the court now rings against the bare stone. King Robert Baratheon, the First of His Name, has no interest in replacing the skulls with any of the decorative trappings that have been proposed. Jaime has heard him say this more times than he could say.

It gives Jaime a measure of bitter amusement to think that it is in the choice of tapestries that the king's taste and sensibility overlaps with the queen's: for Cersei, too, has little love for pretty tapestries. She is not a sweet woman, for all that she can wear the face of one. Jaime knows this of his sister. He knows much more, too, more than anyone.

For all the changes that have been made to the Red Keep to usher in this new reign, the keep itself is precisely the same. It creates a queer sort of dissonance in Jaime, to walk the halls and behold sights now terribly familiar with only the smallest of changes.

Once he had observed this to Tyrion, as they passed by a fountain. That used to belong to a dragon, you know, Jaime had said, pointing out the fountain's spout: a ball, where a brass dragon had once crouched, spitting out a stream of water, and now a young maiden of brass now crouched, her water jug overflowing over the round of the ball. And very seriously, Tyrion had said, Yes, pointed ahead of them, where Robert Baratheon was walking, and so did that crown. Which dragon do you think was sadder at the loss?

The quip now makes Jaime smile in remembering it, as he comes around the corner upon that fountain just now. The small courtyard is deserted, and even over the high walls, he can hear the crash of the surf. The sunlight is blinding, but a great wind is whipping up from the east, stirring up the sea and making wreck of the docks. The King is with his Small Council, discussing the damages.

Which means that the queen will be alone in the garden just beyond, just as she had promised. A brief walk across the red pavement stones, and the green-touched gates of brass that close off this small walled garden open at a mere touch of Jaime's hand, without so much as a creak of their hinges. Two short steps up, and then two down once more, and Jaime is in the garden. He lets the gate close behind him. All around him are the colors of the garden, greens and pinks and reds and deep saffron. The flowers are in high bloom in this long summer, poppies with blossoms so large they cause the stalks to droop, peonies that drape over trellises and defy even the sternest gardener. The garden smells of them all at once, a deep and heady perfume.

As much as he loves his sister, there is little sweetness between them. They are neither of them sweet, by nature. Jaime would not bring Cersei tokens and trinkets; Cersei would not give Jaime any lady's favor to carry with him. Part of this is bound up in the secrecy of their love--but here, in this high-walled garden, far from prying eyes and commanders and kings and courts and family and squalling children that might all demand attention, bear witness, carry secrets--here, Jaime stoops to pluck one of the great peonies to bring to his sister. He chooses the one of deepest red that he can find, to match her gown. She was wearing red when he last saw her, in court, not two hours before this very moment. Perhaps she will be wearing nothing at all by now.

He will have to find her first to find out. The garden is not so very large. It will not take much time at all. Spinning the flower between his fingers, Jaime steps around a well-trimmed bush. It, too, had once been cut to look as a dragon. Now it has no particular shape at all. A great improvement.
readyforafight: (you and that stupid grin)

[personal profile] readyforafight 2017-05-26 09:45 pm (UTC)(link)
The heat of the midday sun beats down on her, turning hair already gold to molten, brightening the crimson of her gown, catching the flash and burn of the faceted jewels she wears, as is her right as queen. Rubies and emeralds and sapphires set in gold. a country's ransom to bedeck its brightest ornament.

She should be happy; she has what she has always wanted. What she deserves. She is a queen; she wears a crown. She is second to no woman, and, in theory, only one man. In practice, that last reality is quite different. And it is that that she finds galling. She knows herself to be the equal...no, the superior of every man at court. Yes, even her beloved Jaime. And Robert....well, he deserves not even the first moment of consideration. It had not taken long for her first, admittedly mild infatuation to deepen into pure dislike. Now it is well on its way to hatred. She cannot and will not forgive her husband for calling her another woman's name. A woman safely dead and on her way to revered and precious sainthood in her husband's memory. Never will Lyanna make the smallest misstep, and already he forgets her flaws. She is not above using the face and the body the gods have blessed her with to her own advantage. Yet at times she curses both. If she had been born a boy, like Jaime, ah what a man would she have made! She is certain.

She hears his steps, but she does not immediately turn to face him. Let him wonder if she cares. He is later than she would have preferred. He must be taught to take better care. But...she has missed him. She only feels true and complete with him, after all. So she turns to him, and for a brief moment, lets herself drink in the sight of him. He is beautiful, and she knows that more than one woman would be happy to have him. Yet what makes him precious to her is that he belongs so thoroughly to her. He is, in all ways, her other half.

She takes the peony from his hand, lifts it to her lips and presses a kiss against its petals, giving him a flirtatious look beneath her lashes. She is not above tormenting him a little, after all.

"You're late." the tone she means as a reproof comes across a little shrill, a bit peevish. Make it up to her, Jaime.

My queen! I have missed her ugh I wonder if I could find a game. Would you be interested if I did?
uncledad: (38)

[personal profile] uncledad 2017-06-01 04:35 pm (UTC)(link)
The look Cersei fixes him with is sweet enough to make Jaime want to take her in his arms, with all the urgency that best befits a need. How many hours has it been? Always too many.

Her tone is incongruous with her look. She does that deliberately, Jaime thinks, to torment him as much to keep him at bay. Patience is not a virtue he posses in great stores, but he digs deep to find a measure of it for Cersei, for the sake of this tryst.

"A fact that pains me as much as it does you, sweet sister. Perhaps even more." He's the one who must feel the pressing urgency of his desire, after all. It is not the same for women. He takes a step closer to her as he reaches for her free hand. "The moment I kiss you, we'll both forget all about it. I promise."
readyforafight: (scheming)

[personal profile] readyforafight 2017-06-03 09:33 pm (UTC)(link)
Cersei has not been overly blessed with patience, either. The gods were skimpy on a lot of traits when it came to their genes, it seems. But she does have quite the mean streak, and she doesn't mind sharpening her claws even on him. Perhaps especially so. She does feel that he has wasted his opportunities, after all. do you think this is where Joff comes from lololol

She lets him take her hand in his, because she feels a bit generous in this breath. But because she is not overly so, she sinks her nails into his skin. Not enough to break it just yet, but to remind him of what she is, a cat with claws of her own.

"Do you really think I'll let you kiss me, here where anyone could happen by?" she challenges, a light in her emerald eyes. She would, and more, but she just has to push at him.

Their love is a battlefield, after all.
uncledad: (38)

[personal profile] uncledad 2017-06-06 09:46 pm (UTC)(link)
He does not flinch at the pricking of her fingernails, but smiles. Only Cersei could make him smile by digging in with her claws. If she were to show him a measure more viciousness, perhaps he would respond in kind. If she were to show him roughness, he might show her the same. This is their battlefield, advancing and surrendering and advancing again, so familiar it is like a game.

"Yes," he says, because she will. Because to answer that note of challenge so simply will make her eyes flash again, and Jaime loves well that look in her eye. "I do. For one, there is a wall, and a gate. And secondly, I know how badly you want to be kissed."

Because that same want is in Jaime, fervent enough that he could pull her close in this instant and press his mouth to hers. They are the same in that desire. If it is her heartbeat that he feels thrumming in him, or his own, Jaime can barely say, but he feels it, hard and insistent, as is he. One moment more, to play this game, to indulge Cersei, to meet this challenge. Then he will act.
readyforafight: (scheming)

[personal profile] readyforafight 2017-06-12 12:35 am (UTC)(link)
Her eyes are bright, and her heart is drumming fast in her ears. She lifts her chin, a challenge in her eyes and in her posture. "You know me so well, don't you?" she teases him, reaching out to brush her fingers lightly against his, and just as quickly to retreat. She loves teasing him; she loves everything about him. That doesn't mean she's just going to let him get away with just anything.

But at the same time, she will give him a greater measure of freedom with her than she will anyone else. Because she does actually care when it comes to him, no matter how strange her ways of showing it are.

"I know you just as well." she breathes. "I know you have missed the taste of me on your lips."