meg giry, a sideblog to @swede.

[littlegirymoved]

who wants an (iconless) starter,, 

[littlegirymoved]

[laces up en pointe shoes]

[littlegirymoved]

meg never. sits. still. ever. she’s always moving, and talks with her hands; her feet are usually planted in third position (heel to the middle of the foot) and almost every movement is graceful to boot. she rarely stumbles, unless she isn’t paying attention. she also rocks on her feet, sways, and practices going on her toes mid conversation.

[littlegirymoved]

@luemiere​  /  liked for a starter!

“ well i think he’s dull, ”  said quite plainly, a huff coming from down-turned lips. the apple is raised again to meg’s mouth, another crunch sounding from 'tween teeth,

“ most boys are, after all. ”  said with her mouth full, no less.

meg chews and swallows, wiping her chin with the back of her hand. fingers flex, holding the fruit aloft,  “ want a bite? it’s good! ”

[littlegirymoved]

suuuuuuuuper lowkey starter call/plotting call? soft capping at 4!

[littlegirymoved]

i just think meg becoming an empress in the novel is really neat!

[zendadya]

#the cutest

[littlegirymoved]

meg teaching your muse to dance

meg standing behind your muse to reposition their arms and legs

meg’s touch briefly lingering and she has to let go with great reluctance

meg stumbling over her words afterward and desperately wanting to hide her face in her hands

meg—

[littlegirymoved]

she bounces once, twice!  reaching for the other’s hands, she insists,  ❝ dance with me! it’ll be fun! ❞

and then she twirls, all lace and tulle! she cannot help the joy in her step, the enthusiasm she feels,  ❝ please? ❞  meg asks, eyes widened just so. 

[littlegirymoved]

meg never. sits. still. ever. she’s always moving, and talks with her hands; her feet are usually planted in third position (heel to the middle of the foot) and almost every movement is graceful to boot. she rarely stumbles, unless she isn’t paying attention. she also rocks on her feet, sways, and practices going on her toes mid conversation.

[littlegirymoved]

HE’S HERE, THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA!!!!!

[littlegirymoved]

noblefleur​.

⅋     WHAT ARE YOU  ,    IF NOT ENCHANTED  ?                  tender hearted boy  ,    with your head in the clouds  —-    you come from a place on the edge of the world  ,    the place where dreams come to life    &    spring walks hand in hand with you                    (    is it any wonder how you are so baffled by this place  ?    gold in your hands    /    lights in your eyes    /    the frantic flourish of people around you    )    even the flowers feel strange  —-    you wish you could explain that to her

   ❛❛  boys like me  ?  ❜❜                    (    you wonder what that means  ,    boys like you  :    boys who miss the feeling of the sun  ,    of drowning in light  ,    of feeling the earth alive beneath your feet    )                    ❛❛  i hope i’m not like anyone you’ve met before  .  ❜❜                     skin flushes    /    the same color as a lazy sunrise  ,    a dusted rose pressed to his cheeks as his head bows towards her

   ❛❛  you’re extraordinary  ,    meg giry  .    would you walk with me for awhile  ?  ❜❜  

he makes you feel like home.  how quickly she nods, how fiercely! she is just as enamored, drawn like moth to flame; he walks with sunshine and springtime, does he know as much?  ❝ you are like no one i’ve met before, halan. ❞

that’s why i tease you so. bold, then, she offers him her free hand, reaching once more. (have i always longed to touch you so?) the bouquet is neatly tucked under her arm, drawn beneath her shawl. her smile never one falters. the night stills, and the stars above glint; their guiding light, should they be lead astray.  ❝ i’d love to. ❞  a flex of fingers,  ❝ where would you like to go? ❞

[littlegirymoved]

the floorboards creak beneath her.  maman is collecting any wayward costumes forgotten by their dancers, and meg is supposed to be doing the same; instead, she’s wandering the empty expanse backstage, delighted by the silence she finds there. she hums; quiet, something she’s learned long ago, hardly paying attention to the words, when she hears a sound that was not made by her.

❝ maman? ❞  meg calls, hopeful. her heart sinks in her chest when she gets no such reply. instead, there’s a rustle from above in the rafters.  ❝ who’s there? ❞  she demands in an instant; her shawl drops from her shoulders, and the shock of chill is enough to make her practically jump out of her skin. again she gets no reply.

❝ if you don’t come out, i’ll— i’ll—! ❞  widened eyes stare helplessly up, searching. she suddenly regrets shirking her responsibilities.  ❝ la sorelli gave me her knife! tell me who you are! ❞

@operagheist.

[littlegirymoved]

her steps are light, hurried!  meg appears all in a rush, curls bouncing about her shoulders, greeting her friend with a wide grin.

❝ oh, christine! look at what i have got, ❞  she boasts, procuring a box from behind her back; a delicate little thing topped with a pink ribbon.

❝ la sorelli gave it to me! it’s from one of her secret admirers, ❞  meg explains, carefully lifting the lid to reveal six little macarons nestled against tissue paper.  ❝ he has good taste, no? would you like one? ❞  

@sopraetic​.

[littlegirymoved]

she teeters on her feet, laughing.  ❝ maman warned me about boys like you, monsieur! ❞  even still, she cannot bring herself to deny his gift — so many lovely flowers, all wrapped in ribbon and parchment! her face warms, and meg smiles.

she reaches; perhaps across time, perhaps across locales, for their fingers to brush ever-so gently. she takes the bouquet with great reverence, wayward curl tickling against her cheek.  ❝ merci beaucoup, halan. ❞

@noblefleur.

[littlegirymoved]

meg curses loudly and often

[littlegirymoved]

this is hysterical but also super educational