i'm not going @francesjbaker - Tumblr Blog

thomcsprice‌:

“Shit.” Tommy cursed under his breath, “sorry.” Perhaps the only sincere apology for the night. He hadn’t been thinking when he said her name, so used to hearing everyone direct her as such. It was always Frances or Mrs. Baker. For Tommy however, it’d varied. Most recently he’d taken up ‘G-Ma’ which he knew she hated, but it was so fun. He only held on to her hands firmer, looking down at her with his head tilted to the side. It’d been a weird, weird night. A night that let him with much to think about and thinking was hard. It required him to take things more seriously and that is not something Thomas Price was known for doing. The last thing on his mind at that moment was what he and Ruby Torrence had done at the lake, but obviously that was the only thing on Frances’ mind. He wondered if she knew yet. How he’d plummeted (for a very brief moment).

“Because everything is chill. G-Ma.” Far from chill but as chill as it could get. “You don’t have to worry about it, okay? Everything is 100% chill.” Squeezing her hands before letting them go, Thomas stepped back and only nodded in response to his question. Sex wasn’t necessarily at the top of his list on things to talk to about to with his grandmother but if not her than who? Only other family were probably blacked out and on cloud 9 at some shitty motel, or worse, the streets. “You don’t gotta worry about nothing, okay?”

Frances hated it when Tommy called her G-ma, or any other weird variant of grandma. She would be happy and content with just being called grandma, or gram, gran, nana, whatever. Tommy and his modern day slang always had her fucked up. What did half of the shit he said even mean? Most of it made absolutely no sense to her, no matter how hard he tried to teach her what things meant. She was old and set in her ways, she didn’t care to know his teen and twenty-something slang words and phrases, or whatever a me-me was. When he released her hands, she clasped them in front of her, wringing them as she thought about what her next move would be, considering everything he said very carefully.

“How do you know it’s all chill, Tommy? How can you be absolutely sure?” She didn’t want to talk about sex with her grandson, even though she had been the one to give him the talk as a teenager, she didn’t like to harp on the subject any longer than she had to. “Please, for the love of God, tell me you used a condom. Tommy, I don’t need any great-grandkids running around in this house, especially not from her. She’d never make it as a mother,” She reached up, grabbing him by the jaw, fingers digging into his skin. “I mean it. Don’t fuck around with her, Thomas, she’s no good. You don’t want her, of all people, mothering your children. I don’t want her mothering my great-grandkids. Tell me you’ll be careful with her.”

#thomcsprice

🍹: Young Adult (19-25 yrs)

Frances Jean Baker, aged twenty-five, had just landed her second film role. She had gotten into the business later in life than some, seeing so many young starlets who barely looked eighteen, but she didn’t care. She’d already had two children and was married by this time, but that didn’t seem to make any difference. She was good at what she did and she was sought after by many, but she couldn’t take on every project that was offered to her, of course.

She’d just gotten finished running lines with one of her costars and decided to go out for a drink. Her husband was at home with the kids, though many thought it should be the other way around, and she still had a few hours to kill before she needed to be home to get the children into bed. Sitting at the bar, the blonde ordered herself an old fashioned before getting situated in her seat.

Her name wasn’t huge yet, but that didn’t stop people from noticing her. She was a beauty, always catching the eye of some man who could never come home with her, no matter how badly he wanted to. That didn’t matter to her - it just felt good to be wanted, especially after she’d gotten off that Godawful farm she’d been raised on.

“Frances!” Shouted someone that approached her, camera in hand. God, she just wanted a drink, but she wasn’t one to turn down any form of attention either. “That’d be me.” She said with a smile, turning in her seat to face the man, trying not to flinch away at the sudden sight of a camera in her face. Despite the fact that she was tired and ready to relax, she was able to pose and do what was necessary so she’d have good publicity; she couldn’t be like some of the stars who were caught fighting paparazzo and throwing drinks at them.

Once he was finally gone, Frances turned back around in her seat and went back to drinking her drink, avoiding acknowledging the people who were mulling around her now, hoping for a bit of her attention. No, it was time to relax, she deserved that. Little did she know that this would be the last time she was able to go out and have a somewhat peaceful evening.

#cancelledhq

thomcsprice‌:

Had it been any other time, Frances’ reaction might have been different, but as it was it became clearer and clearer that it wasn’t the time for games. The look on Frances’ eyes was all Tommy needed to know shit was getting a little too serious for his liking, his usual grin slowly disappearing from his face. Whatever he had done, she was pissed. More so than usual.

“Jesus, what the fuck?” Tommy raised his voice only when he was smacked across the head, finding the action completely unnecessary as he brought a hand up to his head where he’d been hit. “What’s gotten into you?!” His words fell on deaf ears as Frances paced back and forth, taking the opportunity to remove the coat he still had on from the Bonnie and Clyde costume. Soon enough though she was back on his case and it all started clicking in Tommy’s head. There was only one reason why Russell Torrance would want to kill him. Thomas rolled his eyes in disbelief as to why Frances was upset, shaking his head in disagreement as he looked down at his grandmother. “Frances,” He started, his hand finding their way to hers, as if he could keep her still. “You’re overreacting, okay? Everything’s good just.. chill.”

Frances could have a sense of humor when she was in the mood for it. Maybe if the situation were different, maybe if she weren’t so worked up over what she’d been told about Tommy and Ruby, things would be different. But she’d heard it all, and there was no taking that back. It had ruined her night and she wasn’t about to let Tommy get the satisfaction of having a good night when the news she’d heard was his fault to start with.

“Don’t you fucking raise your voice at me, Thomas!” She snapped back, fists clenching and unclenching at her sides as she paced. When she finally stopped, though, and Tommy took her hands, she looked up at him and let out a huff of annoyance. He had always been able to keep a cooler head than she ever had, and she wished she had that ability. Everything with her was always over the top, she didn’t know how to handle things in a calm manner, she’d never been able to do it. But Tommy? He was as cool as a cucumber most of the time when she started in on him and she just didn’t know how he did it. “Don’t call me Frances, Thomas,” She narrowed her eyes a bit, listening as he tried to brush it off. “How do you know that everything is chill? What if everything isn’t chill? Did you at least use protection? Were you smart about it?”

#thomcsprice

televisionsgif

#(001) visage.

thomcsprice‌:

It felt like the cards had turned when Tommy stepped foot into an empty house, Frances nowhere to be found for once. He’d actually even made the effort that time around, mind still hazy with alcohol but not enough for him to say anything stupid. Or at least more stupid than usual, there was only so much he could change about himself. Still, he was pleased upon realizing he’d beaten his grandmother home and instead of calling a night decided to do exactly what Frances would do in an occasion like this: wait. He was patient about it too, though that was probably because it wasn’t long after he got home that Frances came storming through the door with her usual temper. It was only reasonable for Tommy to respond in his usual fashion as well.

Naive to what she knew, when Thomas rose from his seat on the armchair he did so in a determined way, hands falling to his hips. “Yes, we do.” He agreed with her, choosing to ignore the way she simply wasn’t playing with him. He would eventually find out the hard way, “do you what time it is, young lady? No call? No text? No messenger bird?”

Frances could have beaten his ass right then and there. She was in no mood for his little games, and having him mock her wasn’t going over well. Maybe if she was in a good mood she would have found it funny, but that simply wasn’t the case. She didn’t know what Ruby Torrance’s deal was, only that she was America’s Sweetheart, a damn good actress, and that her goddamn grandson had done the unspeakable to her. And it being her first time? Bless her heart, the poor thing. Thomas was an ass, and she was sure that he wasn’t considerate enough to actually take care of her.

The woman couldn’t help but laugh, though there was nothing funny about the situation. Her face fell after a moment, though, and she looked at her grandson with narrowed eyes. “I’m not in the mood, Thomas.” She said sternly, taking a step forward and smacking him across the back of the head. Frances turned after that, starting to pace back and forth through the foyer and the living room. “Do you know what you’ve done?” She asked, stopping in front of the other and raising her brows, looking up at him. “Russell Torrance is going to kill you, if I don’t do it first.”

#thomcsprice

Frances had eyes and ears throughout Prometheus, and had ever since she’d had her children. She liked someone to have an eye on her offspring at all times and that had gone on to include Tommy as well. So, of course, she’d heard through the grapevine that Ruby Torrance had lost her virginity. Not only that, but she’d lost it to Thomas. Of all people. The absolute fuckboy that he was, and he’d gotten the opportunity to take someone’s virginity. America’s Sweetheart had been deflowered by her fucking grandson. What was her father going to think if he found out? Jesus Christ. “Thomas Robert Price!” She came in through the front door, slamming it behind her. “Get in here! Now! We have to fucking talk.”

@thomcsprice

#thomcsprice #closed

thomcsprice‌:

“I’m not selfish.” Tommy rolled his eyes at the comment as he sunk even further into his seat, his next comment full of pride (and ego). “The mere presence of my existence that I give to the world proves that I am anything but selfish.” He pointed at his grandmother like if his statement should have been enough to shut her up, only actually proving that he had had a few drinks. Grimacing for a second, Tommy moved again so that he laid across the couch, head on the arm rest and facing Frances. “You’re funny.” He snorted, “anything else?”

“You are absolutely fucking selfish.” Frances had had about enough of Tommy’s smartass mouth, and it seemed that he always had a way to get on her last nerve. “What, are you going to be a drunk like your father? What’s next, drugs? Cancellation?” She asked, brows raising. She could always tell when he had been drinking, but each and every time it just got under her skin. She indulged in drinking every now and then, sure, but she wasn’t one to go out and get drunk. Tommy’s parents, on the other hand, had fallen down that rabbit hole long ago. Frances got up after a moment, resting her cigarette in the ashtray on the table next to her chair. She took the few steps across the living room to the couch, hand immediately going to smack her grandson across the face - not as hard as she could have, mind you. “Ungrateful little shit. Go the fuck to bed.”

#thomcsprice #violence tw

thomcsprice‌:

Any other time, Tommy would have laughed at Frances’ words but given the situation, he only managed to get a lazy and lopsided smile to express his amusement. His grandmother could be a lot sometimes, too much even if she really set her mind to it. “Wow.” Tommy continued to move around the living space area lazily, tiredly allowing himself to plop down on the couch- his tone unamused. “I didn’t realize a new curfew had been set in place.” His lazy grin only grew as the sarcastic words left his mouth, honest to God expecting to get smacked any second now. “Do I at least get a bedtime story?”

Frances followed him into the living room and moved to sit in the recliner across from the couch, eyes narrowed as she looked at her grandson. “You know I don’t care how late you stay out. But I want to know when you’re going to be home. If you run off and don’t tell me when you’ll be back, I’ll stay up worrying until you get home.” She rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair, letting out a sigh of frustration. “You don’t care about anyone but yourself, Thomas, that needs to change. You’re too old to be so selfish,” She paused, reaching over to the table to grab her pack of cigarettes, taking one out and lighting up. “Grow the fuck up. Get your shit together. And no, you don’t get a bedtime story, you’re gonna get your ass kicked.”

#thomcsprice

thomcsprice‌:

Thomas was always bad at keeping up with the time, specially when out with Ingrid doing God knows whatever it was those two did on their spare time. Honestly, Frances should have been used to it by now, but no matter how many times Tommy assured her not to worry his words fell on deaf ears. Hoping for the best when he got back, Tommy tried his best to be as quiet as he could when walking into their home, but when she creeped out of the shadows he couldn’t say he was surprised. Already annoyed, he shut the door behind him like normal, no need to pretend like he wasn’t there late anymore. “Good…” He paused, turning on his feet and taking a moment to reach in the back pocket of his jeans to take a look at the time. “Morning!” Tommy faked a smile, letting his phone flop down to the couch as he walked past it towards his grandmother. “Can we, like, save this for later? I’m really tired.”

Frances was used to Tommy’s antics by now, but that didn’t mean she was going to let it slide. It was her job, after all, to stay on his ass and try to keep him in line. That, however, rarely worked. He did as he pleased, came and went whenever he wanted, and she didn’t have a problem with that. She just wished he’d let her know where he was going and come back home at a reasonable hour. “Good morning, asshole.” She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her brows. “No, we can’t, fuck your tired. Can you never come in at a reasonable hour? Or at least let me know when you’ll be back so I can go to bed and sleep easy?”

#thomcsprice

@thomcsprice

Frances had been waiting for Tommy to come home. She knew he was grown and that he was allowed to do his own thing, but she still worried about him. It was an instinct, one that every mother and grandmother had, to be there and protect their children and grandchildren. So, of course, she worried. But then she’d heard the front door open, Thomas trying to be quiet as he entered the house, but Fran wasn’t going to have it. She got up from the couch and walked out to the front room, raising her brows. “And where have you been?”

#thomcsprice

hxnriolivier‌:

“should we be sending you flowers? thank-you cards? i can’t say i haven’t benefited from your work.” he admitted. truly, frances was doing a public service. henri had seen too many talentless bimbos walk through his door that he could only imagine how much worse it would be without frances’ attempts to straighten them out. still, henri couldn’t imagine any reward that frances may be getting actually being worth the headache she went through.

he let out a small chuckle, deciding to take the bait. “so why bother doing it?” he had his own theories, of course, the number one being that frances was attempting to stay relevant. she may still be taking roles, but henri wasn’t the only one who’d noticed that they’d started coming fewer & farer between. frances had a long && lucrative career, and had accumulated more than enough points to retire comfortably–so it was a bit of a shame that she’d chosen instead to stick around and die a slow and miserable death in the public eye. well, not that henri particularly cared one way or the other.

“I accept thank you’s in the form of cards, flowers, drinks, money, whatever. Of course you’ve benefited from my work - everyone has, let’s be real here. I mean, would half of these kids be here now if it weren’t for me? I’ll answer that for you - they wouldn’t be.” She knew that her work was necessary in the industry and knew that only the best of the best went through her - and those who couldn’t cut it were dropped pretty quickly. It was a headache, of course, but she really did enjoy her work. It was something to do in her older age.

“Because I need something to do, honestly. I mean, I’ve cut back on the acting, I can’t handle the stress like I used to. So this keeps me busy, and it keeps me entertained.” Frances wanted to stay relevant, of course, but that wasn’t her main reason for doing what she did. She’d been helped by people in her early acting career and felt like she should return the favor. It was the least she could do. Besides, getting the losers and bad actors out of the way to make room for the good ones was a public service that all should appreciate. “Besides, I get rid of the undesirables. It’s a service that should be appreciated more than it is.”

#hxnriolivier

enzoromano‌:

If one thing was certain, Enzo was impressed my Frances. She did everything yet she had someone relying on her too. In truth, he wouldn’t have been able to do it. He was five when his father died because of the industry and making some kid go through the same wasn’t something he was prepared for at all, he just couldn’t see himself succeed on such terms. A sigh escaped his lips as he nodded. “I don’t think I could hold more respect for you than I already did, but here I am blown away at what you accomplished.” He didn’t lie, he was honest to a fault and perhaps that was a flaw in this industry, but then again he was just yet another lowly actor, complementing one of the greats.

Frances could only hope she impressed people. It was her goal, really. She wanted people to love her, to admire her, to look up to her. She’d never grown out of that phase of the fame - she wanted to be loved by the public. That was her goal, it always had been. And she’d gotten what she’d wanted, and still relished in that feeling today. She flashed him a grin when he spoke, taking a drag from her cigarette before speaking. “Well, thank you, darling. That’s very sweet of you - it really is, I appreciate it. I suppose you’re doing well yourself, hmm? I’ve seen you around before.”

#enzoromano

enzoromano‌:

Enzo nodded along to Frances’ words and in all honesty, he understood what she meant. He wasn’t exactly the golden child when it came to talent, but at least he lived his life as if it was all an act. How do you even come back from wanting something so bad that you sacrifice everything for it? A sigh escaped his lips and for a second Enzo wondered how much the woman in front of him had sacrificed to get where she was today. “Did you do that? Did you give up everything to get to where you are today, or did you meet bumps on the road?” It was a direct question and he knew some wouldn’t wish to answer it, not with what kind of path in life both of them had decided to take.

Frances really didn’t mind the question. Usually she didn’t like to answer questions like that, they took her too far back in the past, but for this kid she didn’t care to answer. After all, he looked to be about the age she had been upon landing her first role. “I gave up everything. I was a single mother at the time, balancing life taking care of my child and making sure my baby brother turned out all right. I had nothing to lose and everything to gain, so I took a chance and signed a contract when I was twenty-seven. Got my first role at twenty-eight. A bit of a late start, some would say, but look where it’s gotten me. I’ve done pretty well, if I do say so myself.” She hadn’t meant to ramble, but that was a better answer than she gave most interviewers when they asked her such questions. “And of course I met bumps in the road, there were just a lot less of them as things progressed.”

#enzoromano

aidensimmons‌:

“I think sometimes, they might just need someone to believe in them. Someone who makes them believe they can do it, too.” Still, she was right. They wouldn’t all make it. Hollywood had only so many roles. There were only so many opportunities to seize and not all of them would get there. It was inevitable that some of them wouldn’t make it. Not for the first and certainly not for the last time did Aiden wonder what drove them all here. Had they jumped on the chance too quickly, not thought it through? Had they not had a family who warned them, whom they wanted to stick around for? Or was the dream simply bigger than all common sense? None of these questions were welcome to be voiced, so Aiden kept them to himself. “I hope they know what they’re in for.”

“I do what I can, but I can only do so much.” And her so much depended on how much she was being paid. Frances had set prices, of course, but some parents chose to pay more than others for her services - those who knew their children had potential were the ones who paid the most. Those were her favorite students. Some had the same potential as those who paid more, but they paid the lesser amount and that made Frances turn her attention away from them. The ones she picked as the best of the bunch were the ones who had more money invested in their acting careers. It was a scam business, that’s what it was in the worst of terms, and she knew that. But she didn’t care. “Oh, they know, I make sure of that. I let them know if they don’t get their shit together, they’ll be cancelled before their first role. They’ll wager all their points on a role and miss out on it. Then what? That’s it, forever.”

#aidensimmons

aidensimmons‌:

Aiden’s mouth opened to respond to the first question, but part of him was glad he didn’t get a word in before the other continued. He had nothing against young actresses. In fact, he was related to one and cared very much about her. But now he got the feeling that was not the kind of answer the woman next to him was looking for. He knew her, of course. He’d have to have lived under a rock to not know her. “I’m sure some of them have potential,” she offered, against his better judgement. Honesty had always been a virtue of his. “They’ve got big dreams – they just need a little finesse to figure out how to reach them, I’m sure.”

“Some of them do have potential. But it’s a very slim number. The rest, they’ll be gone before the year’s done. It’s unfortunate, it really is.” Frances almost felt bad for some of them, she really did, but she couldn’t bring herself to fall down that rabbit hole of emotion. She helped the best she could, did what she had to do to boost those who had the most potential, and made a shit load of money from the job. It was great for her, she was rolling in the dough, but she hated when her students failed. “If they’re no good, I can’t teach them. Talent isn’t learnt, it’s a natural occurrence. It just has to be nurtured so it can grow. Those are the ones I aim to teach - the ones who deserve my help.”

#aidensimmons

enzoromano‌:

Attending acting classes was still something Enzo did even if he had a few credits down his sleeve, he believed he still needed to refine what he knew and within this line of work, of course, there was always something to learn. In the middle of reading one of the scripts his agent had handed him, Enzo was drawn to the voice next to him. Not often was Enzo surprised or starstruck, but even he knew who Frances Jean Baker was. A little taken aback Enzo looked at her, a frown between his brows. “Are they all lost cases compared to the legend herself?” he mused out. Always wanting to charm, halfway always failing.

While she couldn’t quite remember his name, Frances had seen this kid’s face a couple of times. He was familiar, enough so that she knew he was an actor, she just couldn’t put a name with the face. She laughed, exhaling a cloud of smoke before turning to look at the younger man. “Most of them are, yes. Unfortunate, really, because some of them seem like they’d have potential if they’d just get their shit together. I mean, if they’d work harder and throw their whole selves into it, they’d make it. But they think this is going to be something easy, and it isn’t. Sometimes you just can’t fix stupidity.”

#enzoromano

hxnriolivier‌:

had he seen them? christ, it was impossible not to. around anyone else henri would have been a bit more subtle with his… observing of the young girls, but frances had known him long enough to see through any potential ruse. whatever she thought of his insatiable nature, she didn’t seem particularly concerned over what he might do. “it’s not about the lines anymore,” he reminded her, for the millionth time, “its about looks.” henri wasn’t the only one who didn’t care much about a client’s actual talet. “get them to pout their lips, a little full frontal–the audience will forgive a stale delivery.” he spoke with a sly smile, finally offering a real solution, “there will never be enough pretty girls willing to get naked and hacked to death in some five-minute horror role. they’ll be okay.”

Frances couldn’t help but laugh. She loved Henri, she really did, but there were times like this when she wanted to shove his head further up his own ass. “I’d say both are equally important, darling. Being pretty doesn’t excuse a shit performance - bad reviews will tank a kid fast.” She’d seen it happen to a lot of people over the years, even those who she’d thought of as friends, but she’d made it this far thanks to an acting coach of her own that she’d had during the very beginnings of her career. “There will never be enough pretty faces to fill all those roles, the same girls will get cast over and over again. Literally, there will never be enough - half of these little blonde bitches will be dead and gone before they even get their first role. They’ll put up their points, hoping for that one chance, and tank themselves on a missed opportunity. Whether it be because they aren’t pretty enough or because they can’t deliver a line, I can only do so much for them, Henri,” She shook her head. “It’s a thankless job, I’ll tell you that much. I try to help these kids and they’re too stupid to do the work required to get anywhere further. It’s unfortunate, really.”

#hxnriolivier

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