mrspower-blog1 - Tumblr blog

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irishtycoon:

“A fairly accurate assumption…”

“That’s sweet. I’m no lamb love”

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irishtycoon:

“S’there a ball an’ chain around your ankle there, m’love? Your opinions used t’be worth a damn, you used t’want this just as bad as I did. You’re startin’ t’get tunnel vision, just like he did.”

“What exactly is it I wanted Billy? You to kill my husband? Everything to be just as fucked up when he’s gone? Don’t even try to compare me to him.”

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Continued from (x)

“I was under the impression that you kept me around to question your bizarre methods” the redhead scoffed, running a hand through her knotted mane of auburn locks. “If that’s not the case anymore, by all means cut me lose” @irishtycoon

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Continued from (x)

“Like you’re the big bad wolf that’s going to gobble the little lamb up” Maggie cocked an eyebrow at the Irish man’s appraising gaze.  @irishtycoon

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@irishtycoon

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How are you gonna be a revolutionary if you’re such a traditionalist?

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Maggie winced as the fiery amber liquid burned the back of her throat. She couldn’t be sure exactly how much alcohol she had consumed over the course of the day, but slightly unstable legs and foggy mindset seemed to suggest that she had long ago surpassed her limits. People were looking at her, of course they were - all eyes had been on the auburn haired attorney since she’d made her way into the small venue that afternoon. Maggie had briefly considered not attending the gathering, reasoning that some quality time alone with a bottle of Bushmills within the comfort of her own home was a far more attractive prospect. However, not long after she entertained the thought, the Irish woman found herself donning a simple black dress; nothing too indecent but far from dowdy.

Margaret Power always knew that she’d attend her husband’s funeral sooner rather than later, but she was sure that nothing could have quite prepared her for the circumstances of the occasion. The Belfast native was renowned for remaining calm and calculated in the most adverse of situations. While she may have had a sharp tongue and a fiery temper, her marriage to John Power had taught her carefully examine the particulars of a state of affairs before testing the boundaries. That in mind, John Power was now six feet under and his widow appeared to have lost her sense of reason somewhere at the bottom of a whiskey bottle. Turning her attention to a group of associates who appeared to be speaking in hushed tones, the redhead stumbled on unsteady feet before lashing out, “If you’ve somethin’ to say just come out with it” she spat, glaring to the room at large now, “All of ye, out with whatever it is you want to say about the widow” @irishtycoon 

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…One day—preferably when we’re both blind drunk—we can talk about it.

J.D. Salinger,  Franny and Zooey (via theliteraryjournals)

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@irishtycoon

Aidan Gillen for Esquire Magazine 2017 by David Titlow

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Emma Stone photographed by Ramona Rosales.

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Los Angeles was a strange place - Maggie had decided that fact within a few days of arriving in the bustling city. A world away from the streets of Dublin that she’d called home for most her life, the American metropolis seemed to ooze a completely new way of life. It must be admitted, she concluded, that her newfound sense of freedom was not emanating from the city alone. On the contrary, Maggie reasoned that it was in fact the absence of her beloved husband that contributed to her enjoyment of the sun-soaked city. While she may have tried to pretend that her sojourn in the United States was for leisure alone, the woman’s spirits were dampened by the reality that she was actually on this side of the world for business purposes. Her husband was growing older by the day, slowly giving in to the ailments he had garnered as a result of his indulgent lifestyle. As a result, John Power had petitioned his wife to go to the city of angels in his stead.

It was quickly becoming obvious that the West Coast was being ruled by a new breed of gangsters and, never one to miss out on the fun, John wanted to ensure that his counterparts on the other side of the globe knew his name. This was how Margaret Power had found herself travelling halfway across the world for the first time. Though she may have wanted to protest at the thought of representing her husband’s illicit activities on an international scale, she welcomed the respite of the new city. It wasn’t long before she was welcomed onto the illustrious social scene of the bustling city, quickly bypassing the simpering ladies with their beautiful dresses and rising to the levels needed to execute her tasks.

Finally, after almost two months in the city, Maggie found herself preparing to meet with with a representative from one of the larger syndicates. Tucking her auburn hair delicately behind her ear, the Irish woman scanned the bar silently as she waited for whichever lacky would have the pleasure of meeting her. As she smoothed out her simple gown, she wondered briefly if she was getting too old for this kind of game. She could drape herself in jewels and pretty gowns all she wanted, but the reality was that the men were no longer seeking her gaze - not that she particularly wanted their attention. No, there was only one person’s attention that she truly wanted and, well, she didn’t like to dwell on that these days. Hearing footsteps behind her, Maggie kept her gaze on her drink, not wanting to seem at all perturbed by her company. “Are you here for me?” she questioned, almost politely, still not turning to meet the newcomer’s gaze. @overlookedoverachiever 

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La La Land (2016)

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@overlookedoverachiever

I’m always gonna love you. I’m always gonna love you, too.

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Congratulations. You have survived the war. Now live with the trauma.

lorijenessanelson  (via wordsnquotes)

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// Hello all, After about a year of trying to remember the login details for my old tumblr (maggiemcnamee) I’ve finally given in and decided to start from scratch. If we had any open plots at the time I disappeared off into real life and you’d be interested in following them up, please please don’t hesitate to get in touch! I came back specifically for all you wonderful people and the great time I had writing with you.

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“Too pretty for your own good. That’s why you destroy everything you touch.”

Name: Delilah Fallbrook ( alias Daisy Brook)

Age: Flexible depending on verse, usually around 23/24

Location: Flexible depending on verse.

Biography:

Delilah Fallbrook was the epitome of an elegant heiress. Born into a family of business tycoons, she never wanted for a thing. Her childhood was full of dinners with important people and the constant reminder that it was her duty to act elegant, represent her family with class.

However, Delilah had her first taste of rebellion at the age of sixteen. Instead of attending an important awards dinner for her father, she decided to go to a rave with her friends. This seemingly material decision played a large role in defining the course of her life. She realised that she didn’t want to play the elegant, demure Fallbrook daughter. She wanted to live.In the year that followed Delilah began to spiral out of control, she began to dabble in drugs- finding that she liked them a little bit too much. On her seventeenth birthday, her parents offered her an ultimatum- go to rehab and get clean, or cut all ties with the family and be disinherited. Refusing to believe that she even had a problem, Delilah ignored them and continued her downward spiral.

A month after her parents issued the ultimatum, she came home to find the locks changed and her packed bags on the curb. With no money and no home, she was forced to fend for herself for the first time in her life. Changing her name to Daisy Brook, she managed to pave a life for herself. A far cry from the wealth and grandeur she once knew.