I'VE GOT BIG, BIG PLANS

Tobias "Toby" Franklin. Journalist for The Daily Wire. Republican. Player. Primary blog.

[shesalittleobsessed]

Dan Stevens/NYC/3.27.15

[leto-atreiides]

Dan Stevens Edit

[tobiasfranklin]

corinnejmorris‌:

Well at least he’s laughing, she thinks to herself. All the while offering Toby a polite smile in return. It irks her that she can’t recall his speech, what if it’s bad? Like really bad? Like P.R. disaster bad and hence the reason the audience around them throws them a few sideways glances. The thoughts dissipate from her mind when he starts up again. Her smile falters ever so slightly at the use of the word, sweetheart. “Well I am sitting at a bar at eight thirty in the morning, aren’t I? I think I can handle it,” she says raising her hand in an attempt to flag down a bartender. Although she had no real desire to be drinking this early the urban legend of doubling down on alcohol to alleviate a hangover may work in her favour.

The fact that she’s got a comeback to his retort instead of whining about ‘sexism’ or some other nonsense impresses Toby; he raises a brow, lifts his drink to her, and makes an agreeable, humming sound before taking a sip, “Very true,” he murmurs in response, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “And do tell me -- what brings you to this bar, hm?” Toby doesn’t peg her to be the type that makes a habit of this practice, so he guesses, “Coming in for an eye opener after a little too much fun last night?”

[tobiasfranklin]

viirsingh‌:

He realizes about two seconds after Toby agrees that this is a terrible fucking idea. He’s already running late to the meeting he has to deliver this speech to and his car is on the other side of the goddamn building, which is in itself an atrocity of a vehicle that nobody should know that he drives. And even if there are shirts in the car (which there are, he’s almost sure, like 62% certainty give or take), there’s no doubt that it’s not the kind of high-class, designed-by-Armani, kissed-by-an-angel kind of couture that most of DC is used to.

But Toby agrees, and that’s that. His legs start walking in the opposite direction of his original destination and he’s nodding over to Toby with a too-polite smile, silently praying that he’ll take Vir’s lead and follow him to the parking lot. “I’m Vir, in case you weren’t already aware of that,” he says as he walks. He leaves it at that - no need for Toby to know who he’s engaged to or, god forbid, who he works for. Solis certainly doesn’t need to hear about this and have yet another reason to call him an incompetent idiot. “Can I ask where you were headed before I stopped you in your tracks?”

Toby has no inkling of the inconvenience he’s caused the other, and if he did? He wouldn’t have an ounce of pity for Vir -- he’s too absorbed with the dulling pain of his flesh and how unpleasant cooling, wet fabric feels when it stills to your skin. Besides, he would argue: what of the inconvenience that he’s been caused today? He, and innocent party simply trying to make his way around the city? Oh, how tragic.

“Toby Franklin,” the journalist replies gruffly as his only introduction. He figures his name alone serves enough purpose, as he follows Vir in what feels like an unbearable long journey.

“I was on my way to an interview with a senator of Illinois before this,” The way Toby states this fact is as if he has to remind Vir how precious his time is, and what a terrible nuisance this whole ordeal is. 

[tobiasfranklin]

adelaidexbeauregard‌:

“Right.” She smiles, kind but dismissive, knowing that he is lying. He never fooled her and isn’t about to start now. Adelaide had been around him long enough to see right through his bullshit, but she was done with trying to talk him out of it. “Sorry I assumed.” But she isn’t sorry.

She looks at the glass of whisky at his hand — he served himself from her cabinet — and doesn’t say anything about it. “What do I owe the visit?” She raises an eyebrow, judging. “You didn’t come here just to check in on me, right?” Or to raid my liquor cabinet, although she isn’t sure about that last one.

And she knows that he wants information about the Gun Bill. Who is voting for what, and how the fuck he can turn everything upside down and cause a commotion. They played this move many times before, and they have always succeeded. Their long and silent partnership was one of the very few things Adelaide was proud of. They even made a deal to not public trash talk each other, just existing side by side, pretending not to see each other.

Why he even bothers putting on the polite facade is a mystery; Adelaide has known him for too long, she sees right through it, and besides: Toby is extremely poor at keeping up with it. Making himself even further at home, Toby sits, still clutching onto his (stolen) empty glass, “I’m always happy to visit my friends,” There he goes again -- but the act drops after this final, pathetic attempt.

“You got me,” He forces a light-hearted chuckle, raising both hands in faux surrender, “I was hoping to arrange an interview with you, actually, Adelaide,” The playful demeanor stops in his tracks; suddenly, Toby Franklin is a man of business once more; “You’re one of Lindahl’s biggest supporters -- and you know that I’ve announced my endorsement for her. I hope to interview both you and Diana, and write a piece on it.”

[tobiasfranklin]

elspethbrooks‌:

“‘Not to make you feel like shit about your job’,” she mimicked him in a sing song voice, sneering a bit as she slipped him a list of names. “You know, you’d think that you would be a little bit nicer to the only attractive woman in this city willing to suck your dick.” Alas, if he wanted to sever his ties with that act of kindness, she wouldn’t fight him on it. The less ties she had to anyone would be better in the long run. 

“The list of people are all on that paper,” she mumbled, bringing the cup to her lips and taking a long sip of her drink. Granted, she didn’t expect much from Tobias, but anything was better than nothing. And it was much better than using her resources at work. “I take it you can start on this today? Assuming you don;t have plans or your gossip column to write.”

Until he met Elspeth, Toby was confident that he could never stand to be with one of those empowered, ‘too-tough-for-a-man’s-shit’ women -- not without a drink in his hand or her ending up on the floor. She makes him laugh, however, even when the joke is at his expense. Maybe the sex is that good -- or as she points out, happening at all. He’ll never admit it to anyone but, well ... it’s been a while before her. Toby’ll blame that on the overly-nitpicky women of D.C., however, before he ever does any self reflection.

“You’re funny, I’ll give you that,” He raises a brow as he takes another sip of his coffee and scans the list of names, “Elspeth, I don’t think any of these guys have ever left their mother’s basement, never mind gone to the effort of planning and putting together a terrorist attack,” On Twitter, Toby calls these basement dwellers his brothers, his fellow men of action. 

Offline, however, and in private company, he can’t stand many of them. There’s little difference between these so called losers and himself, but -- well, he’s Toby Franklin. He’s handsome, he’s a somebody. These men probably have Cheeto dust caked onto their dicks from jerking off after snack time.

[tobiasfranklin]

THE FRANKLIN FAMILY -- TOBY’S PARENTS AND SIBLINGS.

kevin costner as jonathan franklin

fanny ardant as rosemarie franklin

zooey deschanal as lillian franklin

nicholas hoult as cooper franklin

[tobiasfranklin]

elspethbrooks‌:

“You should fucking know,” she spits back, watching him yell at a server before gliding into the seat next to her. Two minutes or not, Elspeth valued her time. She’d never given an inch in her life save for two people, and Tobias certainly wasn’t one of them. Her own child wasn’t. She took a sip of her tea and sighed, taking a moment to regroup before she jumped into the actual business of it. 

The sooner this was over, the better. “I’ll make this quick, and relatively painless; I need to you to talk to some people who are on a watch list. Same usual shit but I just need to see if they’re actually a problem or just … – fans of your rhetoric.”

Most people would be minding their P’s & Q’s when sitting with the Director of Intelligence and Analysis, and wisely so. Then there’s Toby -- who simply grins in response as she snaps at him, and begins to drum his fingers on the table as he waits for his coffee to arrive. 

“Does being on a watch list actually mean shit anymore?” Toby muses aloud; apparently, the waiter got his ‘hint’ that he’s in no mood to fuck around today -- the coffee’s already here. Not even a thank you is uttered before he takes a long sip without regard for its temperature. A risky move, but one that’s paid off; this shit definitely isn’t fresh, but it’ll do.

“Not to make you feel like shit about your job or anything, but. Alright. Name the names.”

[tobiasfranklin]

loganstjames‌:

Logan sat nearest the man, tie loosened as he unbuttoned his dress shirt by two—when he wasn’t trailing a blonde, he was chasing other idiots, and the Secret Service didn’t believe in giving people a fucking moment.

Coffee cup aided the thunderous headache he held, as he looked over to the man, raising a brow. “Huh?” He whispered, before realizing the man might’ve been speaking to him, as he sat up rather than remain in his hunched position. “Honestly, man, I don’t even fuckin’ remember seein’ you.” He answered honestly.

How early in had he been off his shit?

“Was it—good or somethin’?”

God, he writes a brilliant fucking speech, and it’s wasted on a group of drunkards that could hardly remember their table number, never mind what he was trying to convey. Toby almost wonders why he even bothers -- but then he catches himself, and reminds his ever-constant internal pessimist that his efforts are what set him apart from the rest. Suddenly, annoyance is replaced with self-pride, and he takes another sip to back himself on the back.

“Well, I hope so,” He’s being sarcastic, but it’s sudden enough that it may fly over the head of someone as hungover as Toby, who isn’t used to rebounding the next morning with another drink.

“Mine was the speech about the American people in the wake of President Wright’s assassination. Ring a bell?” With a description that vague, it probably doesn’t; Toby thinks, however, out of all the speeches to mention Theresa Wright’s death, his was the best. As if this will somehow set his words from last night apart when describing them to another person.

“Mentioned that she was the fifth to be assassinated in office.” He adds in clarification. 

[tobiasfranklin]

corinnejmorris‌:

After her lunch meeting, Corinne needed a drink. Even though Corinne still had at least 4 in her body left over from yesterday— the best way to get rid of the headache pounding in her head seemed like at least another one. She sends a quick text to her assistant— tell the New Yorkers I don’t want to see them for another 2 months. But do it nicely. She turns to see her companion donning dark sunnies— smart, she could use a pair right now. “Oh umm yeah I think so?” In all honesty Corinne had been so deep in her drink it be a miracle if she even remembered the president’s speech.

“Well actually— I don’t remember it entirely but I would like to know what it is you’re drinking because I’m most definitely in need of one.”

Despite the brewing disappoint beneath the surface, Toby laughs as he sits back in his seat. He’ll need another drink on stand-by, this one isn’t going to last him much longer. Even through the shade of his lenses, he thinks he sees a few judgmental stares off in the distance. Well ... fuck ‘em. Did hit another follower milestone on Twitter this morning? Probably not. So they can just go to hell.

“It uh, might be a long strong for you, sweetheart. You think you’re up for a whiskey this early in the morning?” 

In fairness, Toby may have a point; the human body surely isn’t meant for the amount of alcohol he’s consuming this early. The fact his own body hasn’t shut down after four hours of sleep and a whiskey at eight-thirty A.M. is a miracle -- add that to Toby’s list of prayers this morning.

[tobiasfranklin]

jovicstjames‌:

“Linger,  huh?”  He echoes Toby’s words,  a rhetorical statement more than anything.  What lingered with people these days?  Mistakes.  Errors.  Mishaps.  Bullshit.  “Might sound a bit cliche,  but it’s a quote from Lincoln.  If you want to be remembered,  do something worth writing about,  or write something worth reading about.  What did you say your speech was about,  again?”  He hadn’t,  though Luka is curious now.  The man in front of him,  Toby Franklin,  doesn’t seem like the idealistic sort.  Maybe it was the blood-shot eyes or the dazed look glued to his face.  Yet his words spoke a different story and spoke volumes at that.  Being remembered.  What a romantic thought.  Well,  according to a man who’s Wikipedia has been regularly updated since he was twenty-one.  “Luka St James.  Senator from Virginia.  I’ve enjoyed your commentary recently  –  it’s a rare treat for the press not to be plagued with liberal tomfoolery.  You’ve got a keen head on your shoulders,  don’t drink it away.”  

The last time that a senator commented that he enjoyed Toby’s work was -- oh, about a week from never ago. Even for steel ego like Toby Franklin, it’s a surprised. Of course, he’ll never say it, and never admit that he may, in fact, be flattered, “The strength of the American people in the wake of Theresa Wright’s assassination, sir,” He’s hoping, as he always does, that the other’s memory will be jogged, and from there will come the flood of praises that Toby is always so desperately craving. 

“Liberal tomfoolery is just what I’m fighting back against. I know that what I write, it’s enough to stand out from all the idiotic think pieces written by millennial fresh out of college. But that’s not all that I’m looking for -- I want an impact. A real one, not just backlash on Twitter that clogs up my feed for the next three days after my article is published.”

[tobiasfranklin]

Toby’s work attire. There’s a lot of navy as you see with his suits; he thinks that it compliments his eyes. He only has about two pairs of shoes, and if a pair gets worn out, he throws them to the back of his closet and buys another pair. One brown, one black, always trusty.

[tobiasfranklin]

Toby’s Apartment:

Picture #1: His living

Picture #2: His bedroom

Picture #3: His bathroom

Picture #4: His in-home office

Picture #5: His kitchen

Picture #6: The outside of his apartment complex

[cams-archive]

[tobiasfranklin]

sofia--russo‌:

“Oh my god,” Sofia snapped, a hand pressed to her forehead, as she finally looked up at the fucking twat shooting his mouth off uninvited. “You’re doing a lot of this—“ Her hand mimicked a jabbering shit, which was what he was being. “I need you to do this.” She motioned for him to be silent, as her hand fell to the martini glass before her, lifting it to her lips and taking it back.

Plucking the olives from the glass, she sunk her teeth into one, propping the plastic stick between teeth, as she looked back over to him. “Yeah, you sounded like a fuck boy on stage.” Sofia tilted her head. “But I guess that’s the look you’re going for, so all in all—it was passable for an evening thrown by certain kinds of people.”

He’ll have to check later what damage’s been done when his jaw hit the fucking floor. Sure, he recovers fast but -- damn. Now to pull a move that may get him knocked out of his chair, “Well, that’s funny, coming from a woman,” Toby’s smirking into his drink, just waiting -- waiting, for the reply. It’s almost sick how much he lives off of it, or so he’s been told.

“Certain kinds of people, eh?” His interest if half-hearted, but if there’s one thing Toby Franklin is not, it’s an idiot that drives away beautiful women ... purposefully. The motion of his hand tells her to continue, though he doesn’t meet her eyes, “Don’t just leave it there.”

[tobiasfranklin]

elspethbrooks‌:

Why she’d agreed to meet with Tobias at all in public was beyond her – but over coffee seemed civil enough. She’d only engaged talking with him because she’d needed an informant of sorts. Then she’d somewhat stuck around because the sex was good – and it was easier than making a real relationship. Unfortunately, duty called again and since he seemed to inspire .. – far too many problematic names on her list, she’d decided to try and ask for aid once again and pry into the business of those she’d rather not spy on. 

But now she was sitting in a coffee shop waiting for his ass, and it agitated her further. 

In all of his years in D.C., Toby’s earned a reputation three miles long -- and nowhere, not once, on that list, will you see that ‘punctual’ has been used to describe him. Even when he’s trying to make an effort (which he will, for Elspeth, so she doesn’t leave him with blue balls later), he still can’t get it together enough to meet her on the dot. Two minutes late -- it’s not a bad record for him.

“Don’t say it, I know,” are the first words out of his mouth as he approaches the table. Toby barks his order of a black coffee at a poor passing waiter before sitting down.

[nobraska]

this is me