#greatnana

[pedroam-bang]

Knives Out (2019)

[ironborealis]

The Last Gentleman Detective: A New Musical by Stephen Sondheim

headcanon: Stephen Sondheim read The New Yorker article on Benoit Blanc and approached him to get the rights to create a musical based on his life. A musical about a gentleman detective solving tricky murders sounds like something up his alley.

This negotiation is happening simultaneously with Knives Out -- which is why when he's waiting for Marta in front of the laundromat he decides to pull up Follies and sing along. I don't think he's audacious enough to give Sondheim a vibes list for what he'd like to see in a musical about himself... maybe he's just trying to convince himself that it's a good idea in the first place. Sondheim musicals aren't always appreciated the first time around after all -- not that Benoit cares about his brand so much as he doesn't want to become another Legs Diamond joke.

Fast forward to Glass Onion and Angela Lansbury has joined in this little project given her experience with murder mysteries and because she's been cast to play Greatnana Wanetta once Broadway reopens from COVID.

[asirensrage]

I wish you would write Ransom bringing Hannah home for the first family dinner, with star introduction to greatnana. 💕

OH MAN. You know that as soon as Hannah smells blood in the water she's leaving no survivors.

She gets dragged there by Ransom to meet his family but he tells her the only ones he really cares she meets are his Great Nana and maybe his grandfather. None of his family expects her.

"It's a phase," his mother says. "He can't be serious." "He's always been rebellious," his father admits. Meg asks if it's a joke. She doesn't mean to be rude but it's Ransom. Joni tries to ask if she follows her on Instagram...and tries to sell her products.

Ransom waits because he knows Hannah and he knows his family. Hannah doesn't put up with any of their snide or racist comments. Ransom's family isn't used to someone who stands up to them, is sharper with their words and is unwilling to let them win because of who they are. After all, she's used to dealing with Ransom, his family is nothing.

Ransom's grandfather is impressed but Hannah focuses her attention on Great Nana who is the only person Ransom actually introduces her to.

They don't stay for the entire dinner. But they leave the place in chaos. Ransom loves it.

Send me an anonymous (or not) summary of the fic you wish I would write. (maybe I will write a tidbit)

[bruisedconscience]

the greatnana with the cake fills me with so much sadness idk nobody except Blanc pays attention to her and she hardly speaks.. she just was asking ransom something and he didn’t even hear, and obvi she asks again later.. im glad he didn’t do anything to her for it.

I’m gonna hug the nana 😭 she looks like she’s abt to drop the cake idk I hope she enjoys it :(

[screenmovie]

K Callan as Greatnana Wanetta,

Knives Out (2019), written and directed by Rian Johnson.

[seitmai]

The whole conversation between Ransom and his greatnana🥺🥺🥺

Closer to Heaven and Closer to You, Part 9

Summary:  Ransom falls in love

Pairings:  Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating:  mature

Warnings:  language, mentions of sex, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  5.8K

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Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics​

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[amythest-star]

#Grandbaby #laughs with #GreatNana. #family #fun https://www.instagram.com/p/B8PkjZOlKDd/?igshid=1859dlbnhyng5

[saccharinescorpion]

can’t stop thinking about Greatnana Wanetta’s introduction in the Knives Out script

[razistoricharka]

"consisted of simulations of wartime battles" greatnana would've loved hearts of iron 4 it's cultural <3

Reverse PTSD. Not enough war. Put me back in.

[highlyintelligentmoss]

god all of knives out is so good but the end is just!!!! blanc telling marta she has a good heart, harlan's portrait, the sort of spooky piano music when linda finds the letter, and then the rolling stones song fades in as richard realizes he's fucked, ransom's going to jail, linda's smoking severely in a literal teal trench coat, every single one of those fucks realizes they're fucked and marta absolutely deserves that fuck-you money and that dope ass haunted house to live in and dogs and all the big comfy blankets her lil heart desires. poetic cinema

[teresashortcake]

The boys (and I) hung out with their Great Nana and Papa today. 💕 #babyWolfe #babyWolfe2 #greatnana #papa (at Grant, Florida)

[lettalady]

[ Wanetta ‘Great Nana’ Thrombey ]

[beautifulfaces-icons-and-gifs]

K Callan on Knives out (2019)

as Greatnana Wanetta on Knives out (2019)

Information on beautifulfaces

Like or reblog.

[elysianecho]

Just a friendly reminder that Ransom was supposed to blow a kiss to Greatnana when she caught him climbing down the trellis.

[jtargaryen18]

Coming December 7th… Naughty Ransom Holiday Tales ~ Sneak Peek #2

A/N: Synopsis and first chapter to come to avoid spoilers. This is a spoiler-free sneak peek that combines my original idea with that of a wise and clever anon who thought instead of an unrelated reader, the reader could be Marta’s sister. Let me know what think…🙏🙏🙏

With my thanks...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time you saw Ransom was Easter.

Harlan’s son Walt was hosting some macabre Easter egg hunt for their publishing company, Blood Like Wine. Various people would be wandering about the grounds including Harlan himself. Apparently, Walt and Linda thought it would be a good idea to have additional medical staff on hand.

When Marta asked you, you should have said no. You wanted to say no. You were preparing for your clinicals after all and she knew that.

You also didn’t ever want to see Ransom Drysdale again.

And yet on a certain level, you very much did.

What was wrong with you?

But there was no one else Marta knew that she trusted. With Harlan’s mother, Greatnana Wanetta, to consider too, having another nurse did sound like a good idea.

Wanting to help your sister, you ultimately agreed to go help.

You weren’t proud of the fact that it took you a solid hour to pick out what you were going to wear, how you were going to style your hair. That you were anxious about the possibility of Ransom being there and noticing you was a massive understatement.

As you were packing your medical bag, you shook your head at yourself.

The outing was for the publishing company. Chances were strong that Ransom wasn’t going to be there for that. You were getting all upset for nothing.

“Are you ready?” Marta stopped in the doorway of your room.

You nodded, smiling at the fact that you’d both elected to wear dresses for the occasion. Following Marta to her car, you climbed in and off the two of you went.

The yard around the gothic mansion that was Harlan’s home was littered with people in suits and dresses that you and Marta couldn’t afford. They wandered around with champagne flutes in hand, some already drunk and stumbling. You looked at your sister for guidance.

“Just stay close to Harlan and his mother,” she directed you. Leaning in closer, she whispered, “Try to avoid Ransom if you can.”

He was there?

You should have been nodding confidently at her advice, not glancing around hopefully with your heart racing in your chest.

Marta was staring at you mouthing “you okay?”

You had to get a grip on yourself. You were here to work.

After a couple of hours, the staggering throng was thinning, and you could tell Harlan was getting tired and you didn’t even know him well. He’d been engaged in one tedious conversation after another, but he handled each of them with a sharp wit and class that the rest of his family didn’t seem to possess.

His son Walt was a pompous ass who acted as if he knew way more about the publishing industry than his successful father. Walt’s wife looked you with disdain, only barely greeting Marta. Their son Jacob wouldn’t even look up from his phone when he pretty much ordered you to go in and get him a bottle of ginger ale.

You didn’t even know how to get to the kitchen in that huge old house.

You scrambled into the mansion, determined to get the drink and get back out as fast as possible. So far there’d been no sign of Ransom, which comforted and disappointed you at the same time, and you thought you’d be okay.

You found the kitchen easily enough. That was good. When you reached it, the person you should probably avoid was sitting at the dining room table just outside it reading a magazine as he drank a beer, you panicked.

Nope.

You’d just tell Marta you got lost, apologize profusely, and get her to do it.

You’d just turned to head back the way you came when his voice stopped you.

“Where you going, pumpkin?” Ransom called.

He knew it was you.

Why did he call you that again?

Just keep walking. 

And you did. You almost made it back to the stairs when you were grabbed about the waist and spun around. Ransom had you pushed up against a wall in what looked like a library, looming over you with a grin that was gorgeous and malevolent all at once.

“I asked you a question,” Ransom said, not moving his hands from your shoulders. “Where are you going?”

You hated that you were trembling in his grasp, that he towered over you, forcing you to look up at him.

“Jacob asked me to get him a ginger ale,” you explained, “but I didn’t want to disturb you so—”

“Liar,” his voice was a purr. “You’re afraid of me.”

You thought that was fairly obvious, but you didn’t dare say that.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Ransom moved closer, the light off-white sweater he wore in your face now. “It’s a nice change of pace. Normally, I’ve got women bugging the shit out of me. No one’s given me a challenge in a while.”

You tried to push off from the wall, to get back to Marta. It was no effort for him to hold you there.

“Please,” you tried, “I’m working. I really need to get back.”

Ransom’s grin widened. “There’s no big rush. That little alt-right shit can wait a little longer for his ginger ale, can’t he?”

“Please?” you tried again.

Ransom hummed. “That goes right to a man’s head.”

Oh, God. What did?

“Love the sound of a woman begging for me,” Ransom went on idly.

Your heart was racing in your chest and you were struggling to breathe. The hand on your right shoulder slid down, pulling the strap of your sundress with it.

“Say it again,” his voice was pitched low.

Despite yourself, you shivered in his grip.

He dipped his head, planting an open-mouthed kiss on your bare shoulder, his tongue sliding over your skin. The scent of his cologne was stronger, the heat of his body palpable.

“Say it,” he whispered against your skin.

“Please,” you said automatically, a little breathless because of the way his lips were scorching a path over your shoulder, across to your neck.

Your hands lifted weakly, meaning to plant them on his chest and push him away. There was a solid wall of muscle beneath your palms. And you tried to shove him back but then his mouth had made it just below your ear.

When his mouth closed over yours, you did try to push him away. Without breaking the kiss, Ransom grabbed your wrists and pressed them to the wall on either side of your head hard. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, trying to gain entry but you fought him.

You yelped when he bit your lower lip. And when you gasped, he had the opening he needed to get a good taste of you, his tongue sweeping into your mouth like he owned you. His kiss made you feel light-headed, over-heated...

You were both breathless when he finally lifted his head. His gaze moved over your face, your body.

“You’re an innocent little pumpkin, aren’t you?” he asked, his grip on your wrists tightening like he was struggling with himself.

“You still a virgin?” his voice was low, dark.

You shook your head immediately, hoping he wouldn’t detect the lie. What? Did it excite him that you might be a virgin?

You had to get back to Marta.

“Mr. Drysdale, pl—”

“No,” his expression hardened. “Say my name.”

You swallowed hard under that darkened gaze. He could carry you off anywhere and do whatever he liked by the time anyone thought something might be wrong. And it looked like he was contemplating just that.

“Ransom,” you said slowly, deciding to do as he asked. “Please, let me go back.”

Dropping your gaze, you couldn’t help noticing the bulge at the front of his slacks. The sight only pushed your anxiety level higher.

Blowing out an exhale, Ransom mostly released you. Keeping his strong fingers wrapped around one of your wrists, he pulled you on unsteady feet out of the library. You thought about screaming. Where was he dragging you? What did he intend to do?

When you reached the kitchen, he let you go. He pulled open a huge refrigerator, reaching in to pull out a bottled ginger ale. He was barely looking at you now.

“Take it before I change my mind,” he snapped, handing you the bottle.

You took the bottle with a shaking hand then turned and fled the kitchen. You hauled up the strap of your dress as you went, hoping you didn’t look worked over when you made it back to Marta and Harlan.

You didn’t feel like you could breathe until you were out the front door. You took a deep breath, willing yourself to relax.

You ran across Jacob on your way back, handing him the drink with a smile.

“Took you long enough,” he said with disinterest before returning to his phone.

You made your way back to Marta and Harlan, just as your sister was helping him up from the patio chair where he’d been holding court.

“There you are,” Marta said warmly. “Will you grab Harlan’s things for me so I can get him inside?”

“I’d be glad to,” you said.

But you were anything but. You couldn’t go back in there with Ransom. Today he’d scared you enough to rid of your ridiculous notion of being attracted to him.

Today’s encounter made you realize you couldn’t come to back to Harlan Thrombey’s house at all.

Ransom was nowhere to be seen when you followed Marta and Harlan up the stairs to the older man’s rooms. You didn’t see him before you left with Marta shortly after.

It’s for the best.

You never noticed Ransom in the shadows outside the Thrombey mansion, watching you walk out with your sister Marta and letting her drive you away from him.

One day, Ransom thought. One day.

[madcapmoonwalker]

Benoit Blanc: [to Greatnana] Why is grief the providence of youth? Well, I don’t know. But I’d imagine that age deepens all feelings. Including grief.