#president mitchell

[sarahsmi13s]

‘Bring Her Home, Bradshaw’ Universe

I DO NOT CONSENT TO ANY OF MY WORK BEING COPIED OR TRANSLATED

this is where you can find everything related the the ‘Bring Her Home, Bradshaw’ universe!

pairing: bradley bradshaw x mitchell!reader

series warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, cannon gore and violence, descriptions of being eaten, descriptions of the undead, being taken by the military, guns, injuries, infecting, death, blood, kidnapping, religious themes (cult), more details will be in the chapters

a/n: this is going to be a SLOW ASS BURN, this story is based off the games with bradley as leon kennedy, so the dialogue and scenes are inspired by the game play. bradley’s inner monologue however is from my brain

Intro/Series Summary:

Officer Bradley Bradshaw.

A rookie cop that just wanted to be like his father.

A rookie cop who, during his first shift at his new station in Raccoon City, was traumatized by the sight of a burning city as the population turned into hideous biological weaponry.

He wasn’t alone in Raccoon City, some guy was there looking for his brother and there was a little girl whose father was to blame for the destruction of the small town.

He was lucky to make it out alive. He smelled like sewer; he was bruised, bloodied, and covered in something’s guts.

But he was alive.

And all Bradley wanted was to fall asleep for 6 months.

Except he didn’t get that.

Instead he was interrogated for hours.

All because he witnessed an outbreak caused by the world's biggest pharmaceutical company that was actually creating biological weapons and selling them to God knows who.

The government wanted to recruit him because he now had that experience.

So, he accepted, but only to ensure the little girl would remain in good hands and not be experimented on for the antibodies she possessed.

That’s how he became Agent Bradley Bradshaw. Who now works for the president as part of the Division of Security Operations. or D.S.O for short.

And now President Mitchell’s oldest daughter has gone missing, presumably kidnapped and taken to Spain.

Can Bradley get her home safe?

**************************

Story:

Prologue: Welcome to Raccoon City, Rookie

rookie cop bradley bradshaw is late, and hungover, for his first day at his new post in Raccoon City. but maybe that’s what saves his life.

Chapter 1: 

Moodboards:

Bradley N. Bradshaw

Y/N Mitchell

**************************

if you would liked to be tagged in this series, please comment or reblog here!! it’ll just help me to keep up with everyone to have a central hub for tags

i will tag my most recent top gun taglist, but if you don’t want to be tagged just send me a private message and i can take you off!

top gun tags <333: @milesdickpic​ @roosterscockpit​ @luckyladycreator2​ @hotch-meeeeeuppppp​ @sebsxphia​  @nobody7102​ @djs8891​ @mayhemmanaged​ @desert-fern​ @startrekfangirl2233​ @horseshoegirl​ @bobby-r2d2-floyd​ @roosters-girl​   @cassiemitchell​ @lovinglyeternal​​ @lovingbradshawafterdark​​

love you babes <33

[endless-ineffabilities]

National Anthem

President Aemond Targaryen x f!reporter reader

synopsis : a reporter finds herself entangled in an affair with Aemond Targaryen, the President of Westeros.

themes/warnings : smut (18+), infidelity, mutual pining, unequal power dynamic, the reader is the other woman, sex in official places, unseemly involvement with a politician, scandals, intrigue, jealous ex mistresses, Vice President Criston Cole, old money political elite Targtowers

taglist open - To be tagged in this and ALL other Aemond works, refer here. To be tagged in ONLY this story, comment on the latest chapter.

main masterlist ▪︎ moodboard #1 - #2

🍒 in the land of gods and monsters... 🍒

Intro: Official Business

Chapter 1: Say Yes To Heaven

Chapter 2: Diet Mountain Dew

Chapter 3: Money, Power, Glory

Chapter 4: The Other Woman

Chapter 5: Chemtrails Over the Country Club

Chapter 6: Tomorrow Never Came

Chapter 7: National Anthem

[hangmansgbaby]

Miss Americana And The Heartbreak Prince

Meredith ‘Meri’ Mitchell is America’s sweetheart with her dad, Pete Mitchell, as the current president of the United States. Meri is constantly sent around to the biggest parties, banquets, and gatherings that her father cannot attend but her least favorite of all, is anything that includes the prince of England. His Royal Highness, Prince Jake is next in line for the crown so he is always present at every major event. Jake thoroughly enjoys his engagements. Show up, snap a few pictures, have a good time, take a cute girl to a nearby hotel, leave before dawn, and repeat the cycle the next time. For the last three years, Meri and Jake have merely tolerated each other in passing but with her father’s reelection campaign and his impending coronation just a year away, Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince are about to spend a lot more time together, especially after they make a big scene at a royal wedding.

*my entire blog is 18+. Not just for smut but delicate topics. Read at your own will MINORS DO NOT INTERACT*

Playlist | Taglist

1 : It's a Cruel Summer

2 : You Need to Calm Down

3 : Tolerate It

4 : Enchanted to Meet You

5 : The Last Great American Dynasty

6 : You Belong With Me

7 : So It Goes…

8 : Are You Ready For It?

9 : I’d Marry You With Paper Rings

10 : I Feel Like My Castles Crumbling

11 : Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince

[wearerandomlyyours]

POTUS: One thing I've learned to appreciate is how much these troubled times have humanized our views of each other.

POTUS: How many cats DO you have, Admiral?

Admiral Kazansky: Two. This one is F-14 *points at the orange tom clinging to his shoulders*, and this is SR-72. *Pets the black kitten perched on his desk*

Maverick: *In the background of Admiral Kazansky's window* HEY BABE? HAVE YOU SEEN MY [CRASH] .....NEVER MIND!

Admiral Kazansky: And that was a stray that wandered in.

[kafka-ohdear]

say whatever you want about top gun but they were all queer

[targwh0re]

Okay, okay, okay. Hear me out. If we can’t have this:

Could we at least have this:

Im sure we’ve all seen the TikToks comparing Hunter Shaffer and Emma D’Arcy and I do agree that they have similar appearances. Not only that, but I find that Emma is a good mix of both actresses and would be a good bridge between ages. Not to mention they have proven themselves to be a phenomenal actor and definitely capable of taking on the complex character that is Tigris. Also imagine them with tiger strip tattoos, like Tigris hasn’t gone full tiger yet and is transitioning into that full feline appearance.

As for Ewan Mitchel as Coriolanus Snow I’ve stated before that Coriolanus gets plastic surgery and it’s implied a facelift by the way Katniss states his skin appears to be “too tight”. No hate to our baby but with a bit of makeup I could see it giving him a more pulled back appearance of the face, magic after all can do wonders in the hands of the right artist. I’d also think he got the surgery to appear younger and also to participate in the new process of transformation the Capitol had taken on for itself.

And as for them both working together on House of the Dragon right now, plenty of actors work together more than once. Not to mention I also don’t really think they’re seeing each other much besides at Premiers and interviews as I’m pretty sure they film at different locations and as far as I know they don’t have any scenes together this season.

[grimm-the-tiger]

Some of my favorite verses from protest songs, just because:

"Welcome home, my child Your home is a checkpoint now Your home is a border town Welcome to the brawl."

Anais Mitchell, "Song of the Magi"

"Suffocate me So my tears can be rain I will water the ground where I stand So the flowers can grow back again."

Aurora, "The Seed"

"Cheer them on to their rivals 'Cause America can, and America can't say no And America does, if America says it's so It's so."

The Decemberists, "16 Military Wives"

"See, my birds of a kind, they more and more are looking like Centurions than any little messiah And as I prune my feathers like leaves from a vine I find that we have fewer and fewer in kind."

The Oh Hellos, "Passerine"

"Was a long and dark December When the banks became cathedrals and a fox became God Priests clutched onto Bibles Hollowed out to fit their rifles, and a cross was held aloft."

Coldplay, "Violet Hill"

"Sieg Heil to the President Gasman Bombs away is your punishment Pulverize the Eiffel Towers Who criticize your government."

Green Day, "Holiday"

[scottishaccentsareawesome]

Cyclone: I called you in today to ask your opinion about Lieutenants Bradshaw and Seresin -

Maverick: - Oh, I totally ship them, sir.

Cyclone:...........Not what I meant.

Maverick: Oh....wait, you seriously don't ship Hangman and Rooster, sir?

Cyclone: *stares at him*

Warlock(raises his hand):...I do.

Maverick(grins and points at Warlock): Yeah, you do!

[svld99]

AU Top Gun x Outsiders x The west wing

After Steve left Oklahoma and changed his name. He stayed in contact with the gang. But Steve wasn’t the only one who changed their name and left the state. Soda followed in his footsteps and he changed his name to Sam Seaborn. Seaborn was his mother last name before marriage. He chose Sam because it was going to be his name before his father suggested soda pop. Due to soda job with president Bartlet he was able to keep an eye on Steve. Both men only went home to Oklahoma once a year it was always on the anniversary of Johnny and Dallas death.

[deadpresidents]

Read any good books since your last update about your recent reading?

Yes, although I forget when I last shared the books I've been reading, so hopefully I don't repeat anything.

I know that I've repeated this book because I've mentioned it several times over the past couple of weeks, but I can't help but remind everyone again about Steve Coll's excellent new book, The Achilles Trap: Saddam Hussein, the C.I.A., and the Origins of America's Invasion of Iraq (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO). It's definitely the best book I've read so far this year, and it's one of the better books I've read in the past 10 years.

Other recent books that I've read and would recommend checking out:

•Radiant: The Life and Line of Keith Haring (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO) by Brad Gooch

•The Far Land: 200 Years of Murder, Mania, and Mutiny in the South Pacific (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO) by Brandon Presser

•UFO: The Inside Story of the U.S. Government's Search for Alien Life Here -- and Out There (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO) by Garrett M. Graff Garrett Graff has quickly become one of those authors who I go out of my way to immediately pick up his latest books because he's so well-connected and I ALWAYS learn fascinating things from his books. I don't know if there's a writer/journalist today who has better access to the American defense establishment or proven to be more capable of shining a light on many of the most secretive aspects of the United States government.

•"Uncool and Incorrect" in Chile: The Nixon Administration and the Downfall of Salvador Allende (BOOK | KINDLE) by Stephen M. Streeter

•Life After Power: Seven Presidents and Their Search for Purpose Beyond the White House (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO) by Jared Cohen

•The Liberation of Paris: How Eisenhower, de Gaulle, and von Choltitz Saved the City of Light (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO) by Jean Edward Smith

•Unruly: The Ridiculous History of England's Kings and Queens (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO) by David Mitchell

•The Rise and Fall of a Palestinian Dynasty: The Husaynis, 1700-1948 (BOOK) by Ilan Pappe

•In the Houses of Their Dead: The Lincolns, the Booths, and the Spirits (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO) by Terry Alford

•Kingdoms of Faith: A New History of Islamic Spain (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO) by Brian A. Catlos

•Borgata: Rise of Empire: A History of the American Mafia, Volume 1 of the Borgata Trilogy (BOOK | KINDLE) by Louis Ferrante

•Soldier of Destiny: Slavery, Secession, and the Redemption of Ulysses S. Grant (BOOK | KINDLE) by John Reeves

•His Final Battle: The Last Months of Franklin Roosevelt (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO) by Joseph Lelyveld

•Charlie Chaplin vs. America: When Art, Sex, and Politics Collided (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO) by Scott Eyman

[sarahsmi13s]

Y/N Mitchell

top gun re4 remake au!

y/n mitchell, oldest daughter of president pete mitchell. on her way home for fall break, she was abducted by beau simpson who was posed as a secret service agent. despite her efforts, she was smuggled to spain and became the host for a species of plaga (plague), being kept in a chruch as it grew in her. can bradley save her before it's too late?

moodboard made on google docs; photos found on pintrest

[endless-ineffabilities]

Say Yes To Heaven

chapter 1 of the National Anthem series

President Aemond Targaryen x f!reporter reader

synopsis: a reporter finds herself entangled in an affair with Aemond Targaryen, the President of Westeros.

in this chapter: the President has a proposition for the reader, one which she finds almost impossible to refuse. Will she say yes to entering the enticing world that he so offers? Will she yes to him?

word count: 5.2k

themes/warnings: mild smut (18+), tension that can cut like a damn knife, language, mutual pining, use of power for the purposes of pursuing the reader (obviously, he IS the President)

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

best to read the intro chapter before this one!

President Aemond Targaryen is in the second half of his tenure, and his presidency has already left an indelible mark on the political and historical landscape of Westeros.

From the start, Aemond's detractors were convinced he couldn’t do it. At just 28, they saw him as too young and too much a product of the Targaryen political dynasty. His election, they claimed, was less about his abilities and more about his family’s influence. Who’s to say he wasn’t just a puppet, with the real power lying in the hands of his powerful relatives? 

Now, two and a half years later, the country has seen what Aemond Targaryen can do. King’s Landing, once a cesspool of crime and poverty, has undergone a staggering transformation under his leadership. The capital’s streets now gleam with prosperity, lined with new businesses, cultural centres, and bustling markets. Even his detractors begrudgingly admit that his efficiency is something to marvel at. 

You’re aware of all this, of course. It’s part of the reason you were chosen to report on his presidency, giving the public a closer look at the enigmatic leader steering the nation. But lately, you can’t help but feel that your perspective on him has shifted, especially after that night in his private suite. 

Something lingers. You’ve started researching him more intensely, not because you have to, but because you want to. You pore over old interviews, articles, any scrap of information you can find. You’re supposed to be impartial, and you try to be. But you can’t deny that he fascinates you. 

Whatever it is, you’re determined to ignore it. You enjoy your work as a journalist, and you know you were extremely lucky to have landed a position at Highgarden News. Sure, you are still assigned to the team that reports on governmental affairs, but who’s to say that you can’t do your job from a distance? There is no need to get in deep into the thick of it all. The next time you see him, it can be as if that night in his suite at the Highgarden Hotel never happened. 

You are a professional. 

You know you are also a fool for thinking you can ever resist the attraction, but that does not matter.

Aemond, he asked you to call him, but that must only be reserved for his friends. Those close to him. As far as you’re concerned, you’re just a field reporter doing her job while he is the most powerful man in the country. He must remain President Aemond Targaryen to you. Mister President. 

Never mind that he calls you angel, and that it might be the most beautiful name anyone has ever given you. 

Angel – it had sounded like prayer on his lips. 

What must his wife call him behind closed doors? My dear? My love?

Sitting in the fluorescent-lit office of Highgarden News, the weight of your attraction feels overwhelming. Your eyes linger too long on articles about Aemond, replaying clips of his speeches, watching the way his mouth moves when he talks. It’s pathetic. You close all the tabs, scolding yourself for letting it get this far.

“Still obsessing over him, huh?”

Theon’s voice snaps you back to reality. He’s leaning over your cubicle wall, grinning ear to ear. 

Heat rises to your cheeks. “I’m not obsessing,” you mutter, though you can tell from the smirk on Theon’s face that he isn’t buying it.

“Sure,” he teases, nodding mockingly. “You’ve had tabs on Mister President open all morning. Don't think I haven't noticed.”

“I’m doing research. It’s my job, you know. Presidential affairs, national policy, all that fun stuff.”

“Uh-huh.” Theon crosses his arms, his grin widening. “Because staring at his pictures is totally related to national policy.”

You throw a pen at him, laughing despite yourself. “I’m not staring at him! He’s the President of Westeros, and I’m just doing my job.”

Theon raises a brow and leans in, lowering his voice. “Come on, just admit it. You’ve got this crush on him. I won’t tell anyone. Well… not a lot of anyones, at least.”

“He’s married, Theon,” you groan. "That means I can’t be interested.”

“Yeah, and I bet that’s half the appeal,” Theon says, unfazed. “Forbidden fruit, baby. Besides, have you seen the guy? If he looked at me the way he looks at you, I won’t even think twice.”

You bury your face in your hands. The worst part is that he’s not entirely wrong. “Theon, please. I’m trying to work here.”

“You’re trying not to think about how good he probably looks out of that suit.” He winks at you, not missing a beat.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Why are you like this?”

“Because I’m your best friend, and it’s my job to remind you that you need to get laid.” He taps your desk, his grin softening into something more genuine. “Seriously, though. Be careful. I’ve seen the way he looks at you in those press conferences. That man is starved.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart is pounding in your chest. If only he knew the truth of what happened that night. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” you lie, trying to sound casual.

Theon raises an eyebrow, giving you a knowing look. “Whatever you say. By the way, Loras is looking for you.”

You freeze, the mention of your supervisor snapping you back into focus. “Loras? What for?”

Theon shrugs. “No idea. But he’s in his office, waiting for you. Sounds urgent.”

Your stomach flips. Anxiety builds up in your chest as you make your way down the hall to Loras’s office.

Please don’t let this be about Aemond.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Loras is seated behind his desk when you walk in, flipping through a stack of papers. His sharp eyes flick up to meet yours as he gestures for you to sit.

“Thanks for coming,” he says, getting straight to the point. “I’ve got a pretty major opportunity for you.”

You nod, trying to keep your nerves in check. “What’s the assignment?”

“As you know, President Targaryen’s re-election campaign is kicking off soon,” Loras begins, his tone brisk and no-nonsense. “It’s one of the biggest political stories of the year. We need someone embedded with his team – full access to the President, travelling with him, covering every move.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. Oh no.

“And I want you to be that reporter,” Loras says, folding his hands as he looks at you expectantly. “You’re one of the few reporters we’ve got that are already pre-approved, and the best one for the task.”

You stare at him, your mind racing. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” Loras leans back in his chair, his gaze sharp. “You’ve been covering his administration ever since he got elected. You know him better than anyone else here.”

You swallow hard, trying to process what he’s saying. “That’s… a lot of responsibility.”

“It is,” Loras agrees. “But it’s also the kind of assignment that can make a career. Think of the exposure, the access. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

Your thoughts are spiralling. Travelling with Aemond? Watching him up close, day in and day out? You can barely keep it together after one night in his suite – how are you supposed to maintain professionalism while being that close to him for months?

“I don’t know if I’m the right person for this,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Loras raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised by your hesitation. "Why not? You’ve handled plenty of high-pressure situations before."

“It’s just… surely someone else is better qualified. What about Theon? He did a great job at covering the Lannister scandal last year,” you say, searching for the right words. How do you explain that the mere sight of Aemond makes your pulse race?

“That was gossip fodder. The President’s affairs are a completely different territory than what you’re going to cover here. This is serious news. A definitive political profile if you do it well, and I know you will.” Loras watches you for a moment, then leans forward, his voice lowering. “And I’ll be honest with you. The President specifically asked for you to cover the campaign.”

Your heart stops. “What?”

“He requested you by name,” Loras says, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, and frankly, I don’t care. But if the President wants you on this assignment, I suggest you take it. For your sake – and for the sake of the agency.”

He asked for me? The words send a thrill through you, even as you try to tamp it down. 

“I’ll think about it,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Don’t take too long,” Loras says. “The campaign starts next week. I need your answer as soon as possible.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Hours later, you sit alone at your kitchen table, the contract in front of you. The paper feels heavy, like it’s mocking you. The more you think about it, the more your resolve weakens. This is an opportunity like no other. The benefits are staggering – the access, the prestige, the career-defining stories you could write. But then there’s him.

You know you should sign it and get it over with, but something inside you hesitates. A voice, small but insistent, telling you this is a bad idea. That if you do this, you’ll fall deeper into the pull of him, into something you can’t control.

But then your phone buzzes, and you glance down to see a message that sends your heart into overdrive.

Dinner tomorrow. 8 PM. I’ll have someone pick you up. - Aemond

You swallow hard, a mix of surprise and dread washing over you. How does he even have my number? But then again, he’s the President – of course he has access to everything. This isn’t a question; it’s a command, and he knows exactly how to get you. He must sense your wavering resolve.

Your fingers tremble as you type out a reply.

- Why? What for?

His response is immediate. I just want to discuss something with you, angel.

- The assignment. Did you really ask for me?

Yes. I did.

You hesitate, your mind racing through the implications.

- I’m considering it.

Allow me to convince you. Come see me tomorrow.

- Nothing can happen between us.

Understood. 

But I can’t pretend that I’m not curious about what could.

- You know what they say about curiosity.

So, what do you say? You take a moment, biting your lip, the playful banter igniting something inside you.

- Fine, I can agree to dinner. But we’ll keep it completely professional.

Deal. Looking forward to it, angel.

Good night.

- Good night to you too, Mister President.

Don’t test me, angel.

A shiver runs down your spine the moment you read those words. His response feels like both a promise and a threat – the kind that ignites something deep inside you. The kind that sends images flashing through your mind, unbidden, making your legs clench together despite your hesitation.

The three little dots disappear as you lock your phone and drop it onto the cushion beside you, as if cutting off the connection to Aemond will somehow help you regain control over your own thoughts.

Tomorrow, you swear to use every ounce of willpower you have to keep things professional. You just hope it’s enough.

A fool, indeed.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

The next night, you're standing in front of the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of your blouse for what feels like the hundredth time. It’s appropriate – a crisp white blouse tucked into a knee-length skirt, modest enough for any work setting, but there’s something about the way you’ve put it together tonight. The way the blouse hugs your figure just right, the slight sheen of the fabric catching the light, the way the skirt fits snugly at your waist.

It’s nothing special, you tell yourself. Perfect for the occasion, suited for the upscale location you’ll likely be heading to. But deep down, you know better. You want to look good for him. And that very thought makes your stomach twist.

You adjust your hair one more time, glancing at the clock. It's almost time. You can handle this, you remind yourself. It’s just dinner. Just a business conversation. You’ve done this a hundred times before.

But you’ve never done this with him. And no matter how hard you try to ignore it, the anticipation buzzing through your veins is impossible to shake.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. You smooth your skirt one more time and walk over, taking a deep breath before opening it.

You’re greeted by the sight of two familiar faces: the same two members of Aemond’s security detail who escorted you to his penthouse that night.

They’re as imposing as you remember – tall, sharp in their tailored suits, one blonde and one brunette, with eyes that give nothing away. The only difference tonight is the extravagant bouquet of flowers in the hands of one of them.

The flowers are breathtaking, an arrangement of deep red roses intertwined with white lilies that feel far too intimate for something as innocent as dinner. But then again, they could very well be a reflection of Aemond’s intentions.

“Good evening, ma’am,” the blonde says, his voice low and composed. “These are for you. From the President.”

Your heart skips a beat. Of course they are. You swallow, glancing at the flowers as if they could explain everything.

The fragrance wafts up to you, rich and intoxicating. You can’t help but wonder if this is just the beginning of the night’s games. Your fingers tremble slightly as you take the bouquet, its weight heavy in your arms, both literally and metaphorically.

“For me?” you murmur, as if the answer isn’t obvious. 

“Yes, ma’am,” the man confirms. “The car is ready when you are.”

You leave the flowers on the kitchen counter, stealing one last glance at them before closing the door to your apartment. They feel like a message – a reminder of who you’re dealing with tonight. Aemond Targaryen does not do things subtly.

Soon enough, you’re sitting in the back of a sleek black car, your hands nervously twisting in your lap. The city lights blur past the window, but all you can think about is the man waiting for you inside the restaurant.

After a few moments of silence, curiosity nudges at you. “I suppose you both already know who I am,” you say lightly, your voice cutting through the quiet hum of the car. “Probably more than I’d wish for you to know. So, would you care to tell me your names?”

The man in the passenger seat – the blonde – turns slightly, a smile playing on his lips. “I’m Steve, ma’am,” he says, his tone friendly and warm, a stark contrast to the serious atmosphere.

“James,” the other one says from behind the wheel, his voice low and gruff, eyes fixed on the road ahead. There’s a certain sternness about him, like he’s perpetually on duty.

“Steve and James,” you repeat, letting the names settle into your mind, humanising them. You glance at Steve. “So, James doesn't talk much?”

Steve chuckles, casting a quick glance at his partner. “That's just how he is,” he says. “You’ll get used to him. We all have.”

James doesn’t react, his focus still entirely on driving. You smirk softly to yourself, feeling some of the tension in the car ease with Steve’s casual demeanour. 

But the thought of their boss – the boss of the entire damn country, one could say – lingers heavy in the back of your mind.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

The car pulls up to the restaurant, a lavish affair located on the grounds of an exclusive country club just outside the city. As you step out, you recognize the place instantly – The Old Valyria, a restaurant housed in a grand, ornate building that looks more like a palace than a dining establishment. The stone facade is intricately carved, its old-world charm unmistakable.

You’d covered an event here earlier in the year, reporting on one of the prestigious galas held by the Highgarden elite. But tonight, even as a familiar face in the city, you feel like an outsider in this world. The guests you spot entering and leaving are dressed in the finest attire, their movements confident, as if they were born into this luxury.

But then you see him.

Aemond stands just outside the grand entrance, his tall frame unmistakable even from a distance. He’s dressed in a sleek black suit, but what catches you off guard is how casual it seems on him, especially with the black shirt underneath, its top buttons undone. It’s a departure from the rigid, formal image you’re used to seeing in the media. His silver hair is tousled, looser tonight, giving him a youthful, almost rebellious edge.

Your breath catches in your throat as he spots you and strides forward with purpose. His presence, as always, commands attention, but tonight you notice something softer in his expression. 

He reaches for you the moment you’re close enough, his fingers brushing over yours before lifting your hand to his lips. The kiss on the back of your hand is slow, deliberate. His eyes stay locked on yours the entire time, and you can’t control the heat that flushes through your body. 

“That gesture doesn’t seem very professional,” you manage, your voice a bit shakier than you intended.

Aemond smirks, a spark of amusement flickering in his eyes. He straightens but doesn’t let go of your hand right away. “Sometimes certain gestures are worth bending the rules for, angel.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. He’s already playing with boundaries, the charming bastard, making it harder for you to maintain your resolve. And you haven’t even made it to the table yet.

“Shall we?” he says smoothly, gesturing toward the entrance.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

The restaurant is even more breathtaking from within. Crystal chandeliers hang from a vaulted ceiling adorned with intricate frescoes, and the soft glow of candlelight reflects off the polished marble floors. 

You’re guided to a secluded table near the back, tucked away from prying eyes. Aemond holds your seat out for you, and you thank him, smoothing your skirt as you settle in and try to compose yourself. 

He sits across from you, his gaze never leaving yours. He appears at ease, but there’s a sharpness in his eyes, a sense that he’s in control of every detail – of the night, of the atmosphere. Of you. 

“Thank you for coming,” he says, his lips curving into a small, satisfied smile. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”

“It was kind of hard to refuse the President,” you reply, trying to sound casual.

He chuckles softly. “Be that as it may, you could have, and yet here you are.”

The waiter appears, setting down wine glasses and pouring a deep, red vintage. You take a sip, hoping it’ll steady your nerves. Aemond watches you over the rim of his glass, his gaze glinting with something that you desperately wish to ignore. 

“I know you’ve been thinking about that night,” Aemond says, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the quiet like a blade.

You almost choke on your wine. Leave it to him to cut to the chase. “I… I don’t –” you stammer, but he doesn’t let you finish.

“I’ve been thinking about it too,” he continues, leaning forward slightly, his gaze piercing. “It’s not something I think I can ever forget, angel.”

Your throat feels dry, and you struggle to keep your composure. “It was a mistake.”

Aemond’s lips twitch, amusement flickering in his eyes. “A mistake?” He leans back, swirling the wine in his glass. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

“I came here because you said you have something you want to discuss, sir,” you say, more firmly this time. “My supervisor informed me that – ”

“Sir.” Aemond clicks his tongue, the word dripping with distaste as his expression shifts into something darker. His brow furrows briefly, and you think you’ve hit a nerve, but then his lips twitch into a smirk, his amusement unmistakable.

His posture is relaxed yet deliberate, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “I have to admit, I was about to protest. To tell you I never want you to call me something so impersonal as that.” His smirk widens, and there’s a spark of playful danger in his gaze. “But then… a scenario came to mind.”

“What scenario?” you ask, the words slipping out before you can stop them. 

His smile turns devilish as he leans forward slightly, elbows resting on the table, his fingers lacing together. “One where you do call me sir,” he says, his voice dropping lower, more intimate now. “But not in the way you just did. Not with that sharp, cold professionalism. No…” He lets the sentence hang in the air for a moment, drawing it out, savouring it. “In a different setting. One where it’s… earned.”

Your heart stutters, your breath catching as the meaning behind his words sinks in. Heat blooms in your cheeks, and you quickly break eye contact, staring down at the table as you try to collect yourself. 

“That’s… not what I meant,” you say, your voice unsteady, trying to bring the conversation back to safer ground. But it’s too late.

Aemond doesn’t seem fazed by your attempt to regain control. If anything, the flicker of a grin on his lips tells you he’s pleased with how easily you’ve been disarmed.

“Of course,” he says smoothly. “You’re here for a discussion.”

“I’m here for the assignment,” you manage to say. “To discuss my role. Professionally.”

His smirk fades into something more thoughtful, though the tension between you continues to coil tighter with every second that passes. “Is that how you really want to play this?”

“It’s the only way to play this,” you reply.

“Oh, is it?” Aemond’s voice is low, almost a whisper. “You always have a choice. You could walk out of here right now, tell your supervisor you’ve changed your mind, that you’re not up for the assignment.” He pauses, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studies you. “But you won’t.”

You swallow hard, his words hitting you squarely. He’s right, isn’t he?

“You need this job,” Aemond continues, his voice smooth as silk. “But I think it’s more than that. I think you want to be here. In my orbit.”

Of course he’s right, but admitting that would be walking into a trap. One that you might not be able to escape. 

“You’re wrong,” you say quietly, though the words sound weak, even to your own ears.

“Angel… I don’t think I am.”

For a moment, everything hangs in the balance, the tension thrumming in the air. It would be so easy to let go. To give in to whatever this is. But you can’t. Not yet.

You sit up straighter, forcing yourself to meet his eyes again. “As I mentioned, I came here for the assignment,” you say, more firmly this time, regaining some of your composure. “So, if there’s something you need to discuss, let’s talk about that.”

Aemond watches you for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face, searching for something. Then, finally, he sits back, exhaling softly as if deciding to play along – for now.

“Very well,” he says, his tone shifting back to something more neutral, though you can tell he’s not finished with you yet. “We’ll have dinner, and then discuss.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

The dinner goes better than you expected. Aemond is calm, composed, and – surprisingly – reigning himself in. He makes casual conversation, steering the discussion toward neutral topics. Politics, the upcoming campaign, even light-hearted comments about the restaurant. Every word is measured, delivered with that cool confidence you know so well.

But no matter how carefully he plays it, the tension simmers just beneath the surface, a constant pulse between you. Every glance he steals in your direction, every time his hand brushes yours as he reaches for his glass, it sends a jolt through your body. You feel it, deep in your core, the magnetic energy that makes it impossible to stay unaffected. Like the way his eyes linger on your lips when you smile… it’s all so subtle, but dripping with intention.

By the time dessert arrives, your heart is racing, and you’re almost grateful when the dinner ends. Because while Aemond has kept it together, you’re not sure how much longer you can.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

The ride back is a different story.

You sit on one side of the sleek, leather seat, your body tense, trying to create as much distance between you and Aemond as possible. He’s stoic, seemingly focused on something else entirely, his eyes fixed on the window as the city lights flash by. But the air inside the car is practically electric.

It’s only when you glance forward that you notice the screen divider has been put up. Steve, or maybe James – you’re not sure who did it – must have done it without you noticing. The realisation sinks in, laden with meaning. What did they think would happen? What did they expect?

Your pulse quickens. You cross your legs, a nervous habit, but when you do, your skirt rides up just a little too high, exposing more of your thigh than you intended.

That’s when you notice Aemond’s gaze shift. His eyes, dark and intense, flick down to your leg. The moment hangs in the air, thick and heavy. His face, calm and controlled just a second ago, hardens with something primal. And that look – it’s all it takes to flick a switch inside you.

In a flash, he’s on you.

The restraint he held so carefully through dinner shatters. His hands are on you, gripping your thighs, pulling you toward him, and his mouth crashes against yours, hungry, desperate, ravaging. You let out a gasp, but it’s swallowed by the intensity of his kiss, his tongue sliding against yours with a raw urgency that leaves you breathless.

You meet him in the middle of the seat, your bodies colliding with a heat you’ve tried so hard to ignore. His hands are everywhere, sliding under your now untucked blouse, searching, gripping, pulling you closer. The feel of him against you, the strength in his hands, the way he kisses you like he’s starving – it sends a rush of warmth straight through your core.

Your head spins, your breath coming in shallow gasps between kisses as you manage to push back, if only for a second. “We can’t,” you whisper, your voice shaky, weak. But you’re not pulling away. Your hands are still tangled in his hair, your body still pressed against his.

“Fuck, I know, angel,” Aemond growls, his mouth moving to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “But I want you…” His words trail off, full of frustration.

You should stop this. Every logical part of your mind screams at you to pull away, to remember who he is, who you are. This can’t happen. Not with him. Not like this. But the other part of you – the part that’s burning, aching for him – doesn’t care. That part wants him more than anything.

His lips find yours again, and this time, it’s slower. His hand pushes your skirt higher, his fingers grazing your bare skin. You kiss him back, your hands sliding down his chest, gripping his shirt as if it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

Between kisses, you manage to pull back, your lips barely an inch from his. “We can't do this... sir,” you whisper, your voice trembling, the word sir meant to ground you, to remind yourself that he’s your superior, that this is wrong. But even as you say it, the way your body reacts to him betrays the word’s other meaning.

It shifts something inside him. You see it. His eyes darken, his breathing quickens, and for a moment, it’s like a switch has been flipped.

Aemond growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating between your bodies as his hand grips your thigh even harder, pulling you flush against him. “Say that again,” he murmurs, his voice rough, his lips brushing against your jaw as he speaks. “Call me that again.”

Your breath hitches, a dizzying mixture of fear and desire coursing through you. “Sir,” you whisper, and the way his body responds – the way his fingers dig in the soft flesh of your thighs – it’s overwhelming.

He kisses you, sucking on your bottom lip. He moves his hand higher, fingers grazing the inside of your thigh, teasing the heat pooling between your legs, and you let out a gasp, your body trembling against him.

“This is wrong,” you whisper, but your legs clench around his hand, trapping it within, pressed against the material of your panties.

“We can’t… sir,” you repeat, but the word sir falls from your lips like a plea, and it’s the final straw.

“Fuck,” he growls, his mouth hot against your neck, his words slurred with need. “You keep saying that we can’t, but I don’t think you mean it.”

He’s right. You don’t.

But just as his fingers nudge the material of your panties to the side, his thumb teasing your clit, the car slows, the outside lights shifting. Reality crashes back in – suddenly, you’re aware of the sound of the tires on gravel, of the car pulling up to the curb. You blink, the haze of heat between you shattering as the car stops.

“We’re here,” you whisper, breathless, your body still pressed against his.

For a moment, Aemond’s hand freezes on your thigh, his breath hot against your neck as he pulls away just slightly. He looks at you, his gaze still dark, filled with that same intensity, but there’s a flicker of something else now. Frustration.

You take a deep, shaky breath and pull yourself back, your lips swollen, your body still burning. “This can’t happen again,” you say, your voice unsteady, though you don’t even believe your own words.

Aemond doesn’t respond at first. His eyes stay locked on yours, and for a second, you wonder if he’s going to drag you back into him, consequences be damned. But then, slowly, torturously, his hand slides higher again, fingers curling under the waistband of your panties.

Your breath catches in your throat, the world narrowing to the sensation of his touch. Then, with steady precision, he pulls the delicate fabric down, his fingertips grazing over the slick, sensitive lips of your cunt. The touch sends a shockwave through your body, a shiver of need that leaves you breathless.

Aemond slips your panties off in one smooth motion, and with a smirk that’s maddening, tucks them into the pocket of his trousers, his eyes never leaving yours. The gesture is possessive, unhinged, filled with a promise that you know you can’t outrun.

“See you soon,” he murmurs, his voice low. His lips curl into that same wicked smirk, but this time it’s softer, almost reverent as he adds, "Angel."

The word hangs in the air as you step out of the car.

You’re his angel, and there is no turning back now. 

Series only taglist (comment to be added) - @aemond-lover98 @pinkpeachbloom @whencokewascasual @salinaiacono6 @mycheersricochet @bloodstained-porcelain-doll @chattylurker

General HotD taglists (refer here)

Vhagar taglist 1 - @kravitzwhore @litchifaerie @g-cf2020 @noxytopy @fan-goddess @m00n5t0n3 @diannnnsss @nsr-15 @the-awkward-barbie @rockstwrsz @yellowstonebaby @urdeftonesgrrrl @eddieslut69 @callsigncrushx @starwarsdinosaur @qweq-6802 @tulips2715 @hotdismylife @joyismm @itseunaimonia @just-mj-or-not @crystal-siren @zaldrizzes @all-for-aemond @ajantanijhum @darylandbethfanforever9 @vhwyrm @purpleskiesandroses @technicallystrangereview @jjkysnk @anukulee (continued...)

Some notes in the margins...

Well... that sure escalated quickly. How could you have ever resisted? Good luck keeping it professional on the campaign trail, angel. 😇

Some new characters are introduced: Loras and Theon. Steve and James (*wink*). Soon we'll meet the Vice President, the campaign manager. etc. etc.... the wife (!!!)

Let me know how you're faring! It's only just begun 🤍

[hangmansgbaby]

Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince

MAATHP Masterlist

1 : I T ' S A C R U E L S U M M E R

“I gotta tell you Meri,” Bradley gasps at his surroundings as he walks up to the front doors of Buckingham Palace. “This place is amazing.”

“I really think you should reconsider my offer for a day of free tourism courtesy of moi.” Meredith says, holding her million dollar smile for the press stationed outside the door. 

“You and I both know if we skipped, our parents would have our heads.” Bradley smiles at a reporter who tries to catch his attention. Meri flashes a smile and waves to her as well and she sneers, turning away to her cameraman.

“That or they don’t need America’s bachelor getting swarmed by English girls again.” She rolls her eyes, stepping inside. 

“Or America’s sweetheart getting swept up by an Englishman. Like Prince Jake who very much had his eye on you during the ceremony.” Bradley says, causing her to laugh. 

“The only thing Prince Jake was looking at was his reflection in whatever shiny surface he could find.” Meri groans as one of the attendants leads them towards the end of a line.

“Wait here. The royals will enter first and then you may follow.” The attendant walks away and Meri immediately glares at Bradley.

“See… if we went sightseeing, we could be drunk by now. Instead we’re having to wait on the happy couple, the Princess and his royal pompous ass who is probably taking too long in the mirror.”

“Well I’m glad my brother has made such a great impression on our friends across the pond.”

Meri’s attention immediately jumps to the blonde girl in front of her. “Your royal highness.” Meri curtsies as soon as you see Princess Sienna standing in front of you.

“It’s great to see you again, Merideth.” She smiles at you. “And you must be Bradley.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Princess.” Bradley says, throwing on his usual charm.

“Yes, we missed you at the charity event a few months ago.” Meri reminds Sienna of her last missed event.

“Well, you know how it is. Us girls being told where we can or can’t go.” Sienna chuckles softly. “I’ll definitely be at the next one. I hope to talk soon, Bradley.” 

“Hopefully, very soon.” 

“And I’ll keep my brother as far away as I can.” Sienna smiles with a wink as she begins to walk into the ballroom.

“Thank you.” Meri mouths, slowly following behind her as the other guests start to funnel in. “I’m getting a drink.”

It was hours later when Bradley saw Meri again, drunkenly giggling while she spoke with a few other guests. Just as he’s about to drag Meri out of there, a voice calls out behind him.

“Bradshaw, as I live and breathe.”

“Jake, you look good.”

“Well I am good, I’m very good.” Jake winks, coming up to shake his friend's hand. “How’s my favorite American?”

“We’ll I’m here aren’t I?” Bradley laughs.

“Where’s your shadow?” Jake asks, looking around for Meri.

“Hiding from you. Dude you gotta make a change if she’s ever going to give you a chance.” 

Jake blankly stares at Bradley. A change? Jake was enjoying how he lived his life. And Meri giving him a chance? After the way she treated him in the last few years, there was no chance. “She’s just a challenge, Bradley, 

“You better be careful.” Bradley warns, “She’s just over there.” Jake smiles as he walks past, grabbing a glass from one of the servers as he makes his way over to you.

“Hello Meri.” He says right next to her ear, Meri’s contagious smile immediately dropping. 

“Jacob.”

“I said you weren’t allowed to call me that.” Jake scowls, he hates it when people call him by his full name and Meri knows it all too well.

“And I said only my friends call me Meri. Looks like we're both disappointed.” She growls. Meri bids the couple she was speaking to good night and turns to walk away from Jake. 

“Oh come on. You can’t even hold a conversation with me anymore?”

“No, and I’m not ever going to.” Meri replies, slipping out into the hallway. 

“Meri! Come on!” Meri stops suddenly, turning around to glare at Jake only to be met with him crashing into her, drink first.

“You have got to be kidding me!” Meri yelps as the cold liquid runs down her front, causing the dress to stick to her.

“Maybe you should have stopped to talk to me like a normal person.” Jake laughs.

“Maybe you should learn to take no for an answer!” She shouts at him. “We’re not friends, we most definitely are not acquaintances. And your unhealthy obsession with me needs to end cause I will never and I mean EVER be interested in you.” Her eyes narrow on the blonde prince whose face still holds a smug smile. Meri goes to say something else when she spots Bradley shaking his head urging Meri to stop as she notices most of the guests staring at her and Jake. “Just leave me alone.” Meri whispers before turning and walking away.

“Meri! Meri, wait!” Bradley calls, following her towards the entrance.

Taglist : @mamachasesmayhem @sarahsmi13s @kmc1989 @dempy @atarmychick007 @sarahjoestewy-blog @fangirlvibez @princess76179 @averyhotchner @multifandomgirl-us @lynnevanss @beautifulandvoid @djs8891 @imaginecrushes @els-marvelvsp

Others who reblogged and mentioned interest but did not join Taglist (please join if you would like to be tagged going to reward!!) : @veritable-trash @dingochef @princessphilly

[kiwitropique]

Photographer Tyler Mitchell on Instagram | Kamala Harris (Vogue Magazine)

[lenniharrisonsims]

Four Year Anniversary Portraits

Del Sol Valley

Soleil House

Mr. Harrison Mitchell, President of Del Sol Valley

Full Name: Harrison James Mitchell Title(s): President of Del Sol Valley Nickname(s): Harry Birthday: February 23rd Residence(s): Soleil House (Del Sol Valley) Previous Names/Titles: Mr. Harrison Mitchell Parents: Mr. Ezra & Mrs. Audrey Mitchell Spouse: First Lady Hazel Mitchell Children: Mr. Jay & Miss Eva Mitchell

Mrs. Hazel Mitchell, First Lady of Del Sol Valley

Full Name: Hazel Marion Mitchell Title(s): First Lady of Del Sol Valley Nickname(s): N/A Birthday: May 24th Residence(s): Soleil House (Del Sol Valley) Previous Names/Titles: Mrs. Hazel Mitchell, Miss Hazel Thomas Parents: Mr. Raymond & Mrs. Lavender Thomas Spouse: President Harrison Mitchell Children: Mr. Jay & Miss Eva Mitchell

Mr. Jay Mitchell

Full Name: Jay Harrison Mitchell Title(s): First Son of Del Sol Valley Nickname(s): N/A Birthday: June 24th Residence(s): Soleil House (Del Sol Valley) Previous Names/Titles: N/A Parents: President Harrison Mitchell & First Lady Hazel Mitchell Spouse: N/A Children: N/A

Miss Eva Mitchell

Full Name: Eva Marie Mitchell Title(s): First Daughter of Del Sol Valley Nickname(s): Evie Birthday: August 16th Residence(s): Soleil House (Del Sol Valley) Previous Names/Titles: N/A Parents: President Harrison Mitchell & First Lady Hazel Mitchell Spouse: N/A Children: N/A

[targwh0re]

Okay so we know that Coriolanus Snow got Plastic Surgery…

Evidence:

So all I’m saying is possibly President Coriolanus Snow in Sunrise on the Reaping 🤷‍♀️