#vanellope visage

[outoftheirdifferences]

A4 Vanellope?

outfit meme [soft edition] (Still accepting!)

Garnet must have taken her to buy some new clothes after adopting her! Vanellope's just trying out a new style I guess ^^

Thanks for sending one in! :D

[endtiimes]

vanellope tag drop!

♪ — we crossed the world while it's asleep. ﹝ .vanellope ﹞ ♪ — welcome to the rhythm of the night. ﹝ .vanellope / visage ﹞ ♪ — go see the world 'cause it's all so brand new. ﹝ .vanellope / musings ﹞ ♪ — there's something in the air you can't deny. ﹝ .vanellope / aesthetics ﹞ ♪ — life is way too short to take it slow. ﹝ .vanellope / hcs ﹞

♪ — when can i see you again? ﹝ .vanellope / main ﹞

[bastardzrus-a]

ii.

[fixingitfclix]

tag dump 

[ fix~it felix jr.: the all~around good guy: about ] [ you don't know what it's like to be rejected; and treated like a criminal: interactions ] [ stand by; my q~bertese is a little rusty: tasks ] [ i'm fix~it felix; jr.; ma'am...from the game fix~it felix; jr. visage ] [ why do i fix everything i touch??!!: musings ] [ and it is my job to fix what ralph wrecks: headcanons ] [ ralph’s gone turbo?: asks ] [ why; thank you; friend!: submit ] [ look at that high definition! your face...it's amazing: aesthetics ] [ ralph abandoned his game!: gossip ] [ he’s nice enough as good guys go. he fixes stuff really well: mentioned ] [ ralph; quarter alert. game on!: memes ] [ but i never thought he’d go turbo: queue ] [ jiminy jaminy!: playlist ] [ we can fix it!: ooc ] [ fixing what you wrecked: ft. ralph ] [ you are one dynamite gal!: ft. calhoun ] [ little girl with a lot of hope ft. vanellope ] [ only the good are stronger ft. shank ]

[sugartaffyta]

𝓉𝒶𝑔 𝒹𝓊𝓂𝓅

[ghost24601]

“You’re breaking no oath,” Lord Baelish reassured, the tips of her index finger slipping beneath the Lannister Kingsguard’s chin. To be bound by a life oath --- Vanellope could understand this, to an extent. Her own life was in service of the Many-Faced God, now, and despite the title and rights she held she knew it was just another face. In the end, when she needed to, she’d return to The House of Black and White and sip from their fountain, allow her visage to turn to the Wall of Faces. Many years down the line someone would see through her eyes and trade a life for a life with her own lifeless hands.

But that wasn’t any time soon, and instead of pondering the ways of her God she turned the hazel hues of William Lannister to face her own icy blues. She could see the conflict clashing behind them, the sound of steel ringing steel coming from the trepidation of his gaze, but her own didn’t falter. Instead the slightest of smirks tipped the corner of her lips and she drew back her finger. Whatever pace had brought him to her chambers had faltered the moment she answered the door, she noted the glint of sweat shimmering at his hairline. They had been chasing the idea back and forth for a while now, his obvious interest in her more than just rumor to the Master of Whispers. It was her job to know gossip, even if the gossip included herself and had nothing at all to do with the Realm.

In earnest, she had played along with him. Attention was not hard for Lord Baelish to garner, not with her reputation or her mannerisms, or her very insistence that she remain titled but not a Lady --- but his attention felt more calm, natural ... wary. He was afraid of his interest in her, both for his Sacred Oath to the Crown and The Seven and for the true nature of her person. William had known how dangerous she was, but the idea was only reinforced when he caught her removing a face before she sank her dagger into the belly of a political enemy. Caught, being the loose term ... more like allowed. And while the stories of the Faceless Men were little more than rumors in Westeros, any well-traveled merchant or smuggler could verify the validity of their claim with stories that had just enough detail to be true. 

“I am,” Will breathed, holding her gaze for another moment before casting his eyes downward toward their feet. He was sparse of his armor, obvious that his late night visit was of his own business and not the Crown’s, and for a brief moment Vanellope considered how infrequently she had seen him off of his patrol. Their King had no love for the Lannisters, that much was true, and despite William’s own childish dreams of protecting the King from an unknown but armored and skilled threat being dashed when he was inducted into the Kingsguard he remained steadfast in his duties. Loyal to a fault, even if it meant guarding Chester Tully while he slept for six or more hours.

“No,” Vanellope craned her neck, shifted herself to focus Will’s eyes back into her own, “You break your oath with No One.”

She assured him in her words, steady and inviting, as she moved two steps back with intention. His hesitation lasted only a moment, and when he entered after the Master of Whispers she was sure to shut the heavy door to her quarters behind him. Immediately he opened his mouth to speak, likely to protest with more dissuaded ideas, but she was already before him, hands cupping his cheeks, tiers against his own.

It was not the first kiss they had shared. The first had been sudden and likely regretted on his behalf, something spoken of perhaps only once since its conception and hopefully forgotten thereafter. But Vanellope did not forget, she seldom did, and instead she reminded him with knowing smirks that it happened as she passed by him on the way to Small Council meetings. He hesitated again, hands unsure of where to settle on her thin frame before one curled fingers into her thick brown hair. Two more steps toward the bed and Vanellope broke their kiss to press him to the cushioned bench at the foot of her mattress, only meeting resistance when the back of his knees found its edge.

The process of peeling her clothes began with her fingers working at the knot securing her shirt over her heart. Will’s eyes were wide and wild, caught between watching the nimble dance of her digits and searching her expression for any indication that this was some kind of jest. The smirk had never quite left Vanellope’s tiers and when she spoke her voice was softer, though still as stern as it always was.

“Take off your clothes, Will.” With the last of her words the knot was free, her shirt peeling slowly from her pale form. She was scarred, years of training with the Faceless Men and the battles that had come thereafter, but the marks shone silvery in whatever moonlight broke through the thin clouds outside and streamed into her bedroom. King’s Landing was always warm, there was always a thicker breeze of warmth that assured nights would be the tiniest bit chilly at worst, but a clear night’s sky illuminated everything perfectly without candle or firelight. Even now she could see his eyes widen, the hard swallow that tracked down his throat, the nervousness wracking his features.

He wasn’t clumsy to peel his shirt away, just hesitant. Before Vanellope began working at her pants she moved to assist him, lifting the hem of his shirt with her hands on his own and tossing it away, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips when his bare chest came exposed. He had muscle to him, a short Lannister but built with the years he spent squiring and training for his position. She bore more scars than he did, but his smooth flesh wasn’t at all unappealing. Instead the Master of Whispers slipped her hands southward, tracing the silhouette of muscle across Will’s stomach as she went, ending at the tie for his pants and giving a stern tug.

Perhaps it was a gasp of surprise that slipped from his tiers, and truly the sound was small, but not at all unwelcome. Vanellope sucked her own short breath in as she pushed down, letting momentum take the rest of his pants away. Ah. She wasn’t at all surprised to see he was already hard, anticipation or fevered fantasy dotting his imagination on his way to her room, but her teeth worried at her lower lip as she considered his bare form, one brow quirking at the sight. He was beautiful. Even through his reddening cheeks and obvious embarrassment he was something to look at, something more to desire. And when her moment of silent appreciation was over Vanellope tugged her own pants down and kicked them away --- both bare for the Gods to witness and the warm air to kiss fervently.

Only a beat passed before Vanellope shifted forward, hands snaking around Will’s neck and lips capturing his once more. This was not the first time she would have a man, not even the fifth or tenth, but it was the first time with someone who had burdened her mind so frequently. Sneaky like one of her brethren, creeping into the corner of her thoughts or catching the side of her eye during banquets or strolls through the hallways. In her own tactful way she had inquired of his past through is brothers, purposely seeming less interested than she had truly been for the sake of saving face. Nobody got to Lord Baelish --- it came with the name, and she refused to meet the same fate that her rat of a father had. Play the game, but play it smart.

His kisses were needy, an obvious desire laden in their heavy nature, pressing hard into her own tiers. Vanellope flashed teeth when she needed breath, pulled at his lower lip before moving her attention to the line of his jaw, to his neck. With his knees already at the bed bench she pushed against him, following him down when he fell back into the cushions and partially onto the feathered bed. She wasted no time in climbing atop him, a feat that mirrored the conquering of a mountain for the weight of their actions. One hand shifted downward, legs settling on either side of his hips. Thick thighs, tense jaw, parted lips, pulled breaths --- small details being recorded into her mind as her fingers found the hard tip of him, moved to feel the length with soft touches turned purposeful grasps. Never too hard, very pointed. Again he gasped, a more obvious sound now, before his eyes rolled closed and his head tipped back. This is nothing.

And yet it felt enticing, more than it had with others. The cadence of his breathing as she moved her hand, the rise and fall of his chest as he changed it with each repeated ministration, his fingers finding her hips and grasping like a soft plea to continue --- more details to remember, more to write into her mind. Her own whispers. Slowly she leaned forward, the tip of her tongue tracing the line of his neck before teeth teased at the lobe of his ear. “Remember, you’re breaking no oath.”

Will’s breath hitched when she moved, the slow press inward, the slight bite of pain that always came when Vanellope allowed herself the pleasure of a man’s company. For a moment they both held their breath, the slow settle downward, the slight motion of her hips as she adjusted ... and then the sudden sensation of yes, this is right --- when she began moving they breathed out together, his shaky and verging on the softest of sighs and her own a sharp exhale. Instantaneous tingles shot up the column of her spine leaving a wake of goose-flesh in their path, the finer hairs on the back of her neck and arms standing on end and at as much attention as William Lannister afforded beneath her. His fingers jerked into the flesh of her hips, tightening before he realized he might squeeze too hard (or so he might imagine) and releasing yet again, and for the first time since Vanellope had touch him at all, he opened his eyes.

She was sure it was a sight for him, the woman he had been eyeing for so long was here, exposed and in control, her own expression mimicking the parted tiers and dozy eyes of a woman ramping herself up. A hand shifted from her waist to her stomach, fingers splaying over the array of scars before moving upward still to trace the figure of her. And for all of the surprise, the hesitation of even coming to visit her in the dead of the summer night, he was quick to find himself. Just as his breath had formed its own cadence so too did their hips, a synchronized rhythm of give and take that matched with the sudden gasps of air and soft sounds that spilled from either of their mouths on a clashing push and pull.

When he tried to pry himself up, to shift them even the slightest, Vanellope pressed her hands into his chest and insisted his form stay right there, pinned half to the feather bed and half on the bed bench. Control --- she had a hard time surrendering it in any personal duty, and while she shared a healthy respect for her King she even displayed her own sense of independent control. Confusion crossed Will’s expression for a moment, dispersing the moment he spied the cock of Vanellope’s brow and the subsequent groan to follow. This was the game, and so his fingers found her hips again and decidedly did not release when he felt they pressed too hard.

Her own nails dug themselves against the smooth flesh of his chest. Whatever soft chill the night had offered before was too heavy now, a voyeuristic participant in the formation of moisture across the length of her back. Small beads that smudged whenever Will moved his hand to get a better grip through their dance. And as moments passed, as her own breathing came more ragged, she found her ears more keen on the sounds that sputtered from him: a mixture of mewls he denied full volume to surprised groans that were entirely out of his control to suppress.

They must have appeared as something beautiful to any eyes that would have been lucky enough to pry: a silhouette of a sparrow astride a golden lion, an alluring symphony of birdsong accompanying the almost-purr of a mighty predator.

An oath broken to No One.

[whereverthemusetakesme]

Requested starter for @chocolingthroughnewpixelands

Had she just seen...?

Nah, couldn’t have.

The girl had just been polishing a few dents out of her car - which was superior to her old kart in every way, even though she’d loved the old thing - when she’d thought for a moment she’d caught sight of a familiar visage reflected in the green bodywork. Puzzled, Vanellope had stopped for a moment; but when she didn’t see any further movement, convinced herself she’d just imagined it.

Were there a few people, back in the Arcade, who she kind of felt bad about not saying goodbye to? Maybe... and Vanellope supposed it might be some deep-buried guilt over that niggling at her. Still, she knew Taffyta and the others wouldn’t miss her; the candy citizens could easily elect a new president in her place; and for the few people who did particularly matter to her on a personal level? She’d asked Ralph to pass on a forwarding address.

Those few included one little kid who’d become pretty attached to her - and she, to him - ever since he’d kinda crashed into Sugar Rush unexpectedly with no past to speak of. But there was no way he’d have come all this way looking for her, was there?

Shrugging to herself, Vanellope resumed the work on her vehicle. If someone was there, they’d make their presence known in due time. Until then? Nothing much to concern herself with.

[outoftheirdifferences]

(View full size for more detail...)

So, this is what I’ve been working on this last week!

I had the idea a while ago, actually. Thought it would be fun to do a picture of all my muses interacting; and since they’re all kids anyway, having them all attend school together seemed a natural idea. I thought I might use it as my blog header in the future, in fact, though I dunno.

I wanted to get it finished in my end-of-year cleanup. I, heh, started the rough sketch when I had just eight muses, so when I decided to pick it back up, I had to extend the picture to add in the additional four puppies as well!

I was undecided for a while on whether to go for the uniforms or not; but I felt like it read more obviously as a school scene if they were all wearing them. Plus, it’s what I’m used to from my own experiences.

I’m honestly really happy with the end result here?

[outoftheirdifferences]

Just wanted to share these! The ones in the first line are probably familiar, they've been decorating my 'primary muses' page for a while now; and I just today drew up the rest of the canon characters I play on here to make the 'secondary muses' page match!

...okay, the observant will notice that this is NOT all of my canon muses: Terra is missing. I tried to include her too, but just couldn't get her looking good today so I decided to just focus on getting everyone else's done instead; she'll be added in the future.

That means that, yeah, I'm going to be removing Terra from my muses page for the time being. She's not going anywhere, is still on this blog; but without a nice matching image for her I feel like it would make the page look messy xD; She's still available for RP and asks and everything; and she'll be back on the page as soon as I get up an image for her, too.

[outoftheirdifferences]

So this probably seems a bit belated to my American followers. But we got the movie three months later than you guys in the States. So: Happy 10th (UK) Anniversary to my favourite movie, Wreck-it Ralph, and especially to my favourite character of all time! :D (technically yesterday UK time, but I'm in America at present so from my current perspective it's still the right day!)

[outoftheirdifferences]

[outoftheirdifferences]

B2 to Connie, E1 for Webby, and D3 for Angel or Vanellope?

SEND ME A CHARACTER + EMOTION/COLOR PALETTE (OR BOTH) - Still accepting!

Absolutely! :D