manonmidgen

[manonmidgen]

🖋 + future

Send 🖋 and a word and I’ll tell you some headcanons relating to it! — ( * not accepting. )

manon has … few plans set aside for when she graduates.

in her mind, she has multiple ways she could go, but is completely undecided on how she’s going to end up. because … do they really have a future right now? and if there is one, is that future worth living.

in short; manon is too much of a gemini to ever consider her future plans. 

In an … ideal situation, manon has three futures she could envision herself in.

she’s had a consider becoming a potioneer or a potions master in her future, it would make sense given that it’s her most recognisable talent outside of lying and being a pretty face. it’s also a passion of hers but, making a job out of it? doing it forever. that’s a lot to sign up for.

the … less confrontational side of manon is also super up from running away from this war, and finding a cottage in a little village and setting up a little cafe that serves afternoon tea with scones ( always done in the cornish manner, mind you, betraying her devonian roots.) but this would be reliant on finding a girl ( or guy! ) who’d favour self preservation over morals. 

perhaps you could say it’d be her ideal after the war had ended; but it’s really just a daydream encouraged by the surrounding climate of fear than anything else.

 manon at times had also expressed an interest in going into the robe making industry, or anything beauty related – because what is manon than a person defined by her artificial looks?

if she graduates ;   she’d most likely end up following the potions root, but carving her own job following her own identity by specialising in potions for young women to help achieve their goals and fix & restore their own self-confidence issues. creating the products she wished she had access to as a kid, full well knowing she’s only perpetrating the vicious cycle that led to her own horrible childhood, but guising under self-empowerment. 

but there’s also the chance that she doesn’t graduate ;    manon, despite all of what she says otherwise, does deeply care about her friends. even the friends who claim that they are in fact, not friends ( cough horse girl cough ).

manon’s membership of the m.a is … weak at best. and everyone knows it. she signed up to support her girlfriend (of the time), prue, and also support her other friend, persephone. but her allegience has always been weak because, well, she cares about making through this alive and she’s not exactly on the best of terms with some of the more vocal members ( cough horse girl & viv cough ) 

but oh - wouldn’t it be a turn of fate for her apology to take the form of a noble sacrifice like a swan dive from grace? for all the insults and bullying she’s partaken in the last 4 years, unknowingly supporting the pure blood and death eater agenda in her infamous desire to be seen as pretty & popular ?

but for now, her future is uncertain. like a coin flip. or the gemini twins. both looking in opposite directions for the future isn’t set in stone and fate is a fickle fucking bitch.

[manonmidgen]

#SHOOK at the very thought

[manonmidgen]

            her breaths are as heavy as the solid wood door,   perhaps if manon wasn’t as obsessed with her image as she truly is she’d feel more comfortable slouching; resting her hands on her thighs as she regathered her breath from running all the way from the dungeon. alas,   that wasn’t the case, and thus manon, stood up as straight as the stick up her ass she pushed the door open when called.

     ❝    sorry for the intrusion --   ❞    she lets the door shut behind her,    letting the gust of wind help to extinguish the still slightly smouldering lining.  despite clearly having run here,   she looked remarkably put together (   because in her mind ;   she respected professor amara a lot -- and thus needed to show that respect through her appearance, as per always. )        ❝   but  the third year potion club trial lesson has gotten a bit -- -  ❞   now that she’s in the office,   the realisation that leaving them with only the 6th year assistant she had roped in wasn’t the smartest of ideas,    but when was manon ever smart.    ❝  awry.            of course, it’s mostly under control,     ❞    it wasn’t but manon didn’t want to preface her failure with the truth, when she could outright try to lie her way out of her issues,      ❝    but apparently, one of the slytherins is just straight up refusing to listen to my authority.      so --- yes.    ❞   

WHERE: amara’s office, hogwarts WHEN: march 2nd, in the afternoon. WHO: anyone at hogwarts, really.

grading papers wasn’t necessarily amara’ s favorite part of being a teacher — in fact, in her list of reasons why she never liked working with little kids or rowdy teenagers, grading papers was definitely the second, right below getting her eyebrows singed off by a first year’s potion gone wrong.

she’s trying to deciper an essay from one of her fifth years students (   who, by the looks of it, had no idea what he was writing about.   ), when she heard a knock on the door. she looked up, glancing the clock to her left. three thirty-seven in the afternoon. amara had nothing scheduled for three thirty-seven in the afternoon — she knows this, because she updates her planner religiously. still, an unwanted, unscheduled guest is better than grading papers, so she cleared her throat, stacking the papers off to the side.     “     come in.     ”     she said, loud enough to be heard on the other side of the door.

[manonmidgen]

       things felt clockwork recently ;   walking through the steps; motions; that they always had. but mindlessly. not that manon would mind if it came from a place of comfort, but in all honesty, it came from a place of selfpreservative ignorance.      she had her n.e.w.t’s to think of, everything to think of, potions club, what to do after she graduates? if she ever manages to graduate.   

         thoughts were moving a mile a minute to the point she barely noticed the empty bench, nor the movement of prue’s head in a slight nod.    she managed a smile,   briefly squeezing her girlfriends hand in response before consciously putting one foot in front of the other.  , breaking hand contact only for a second to sweep the robes underneath her as she sat down. pilings her hands into her lap, crossing legs over each other at the ankle once she was down.

        ❝    hm?   ❞   glassy brown eyes came into focus as she shifted a little bit closer. manon placed her arms around prue,   her chin resting ever so lightly on their shoulder as she tried to focus in on the hand writing which could just as well be easily mistaken for a doctors note.  it’s an attempt on manon’s part to cover up her pre-occupied thoughts with a little bit more physical attention, she felt bad, she truly did.   prue really deserved better than whatever manon could offer outside friendship     ❝   not really. but it looks cute,    i’ll give you that        maybe a love note ~ ?    ❞   she lightly teased. 

WHERE: The courtyard at Hogwarts.  WHEN: March 2nd, 2024, after classes end.  WHO: Manon Midgen. ( @manonmidgen )

Walking along the courtyard, hand in hand with Manon, Prue felt quite good. She loved her girlfriend, she truly did. But they used to hold hands just as friends, too, and the genderfluid teen wondered if it felt all that different to do it now than it did back then. It wasn’t fair for Manon, really. Fact was, Prue loved Manon, and she was pretty sure Manon loved her too, but the brunette just wasn’t sure what kind of love the two felt for each other, exactly.

Still, it felt right to hold the girl’s hand, and so Prue smiled as they kept on walking in comfortable silence. Finally, they spotted a bench that wasn’t filled with people, and nodded towards each other before sitting down. 

The day was surprisingly warm, for the time of year, that was, but Prue was still wrapped in a huge coat, a scarf, a hat and gloves. She had always ran a little cold, and therefore always made sure she was well protected against it, even when other people could wear half the stuff she was wearing and still feel comfortable.

Fishing into her bag, Prue took out a little notebook and opened it to the last page they had written on. “Can you read this,” she asked as she scrunched up her nose in confusion, and tilted the notebook so that Manon could look at it properly. “I know it’s my own writing, but I can’t figure out what the hell it’s supposed to be saying.”

[manonmidgen]

for now // p!nk

[manonmidgen]

🖋 study

Send 🖋 and a word and I’ll tell you some headcanons relating to it! — ( * accepting. )

manon,   by nature,    is an absolute liar.    and oh, did she spew some nonesense in her fifth year.

she told everyone she didn’t have to study because she was by nature, just that naturally talented.

she’d made a name for herself in her fourth year, after the whole face thing, to be an excellent potion brewer which she said was inherited from her fathers side of the family. but thee was nothing natural about it.

she’d studied religiously how to brew a beautification potion ever since her first potions class; and through absolute toil, began to develop a certain knack at potion brewing, which led people to the false belief that manon was incredibly good at potions; seeing her effortless work in the fourth year, with no concept of the hours hunched over a cauldron in her youth.

studying doesn’t come … easy to manon; and she’s easily flustered by how long it takes her to grasp new spells or concepts for her lesser favoured subjects. so she’s picked up a habit of using the prefects bathroom as a “ safe study space “ which is a weird habit albeit, but she personally couldn’t stand listening to moaning myrtle for any period longer than 4 seconds.

she doesn’t want people to know that she isn’t naturally book smart; and that she isn’t a incredibly gifted wizard; so she uses her potions prowess as a smoke screen to cover up how much she actually struggles in a lot of her classes.

 her struggles mostly summarised by a lot of private study sessions; but never in the library.

because like,   duh, pretty people don’t USE libraries

[manonmidgen]

[manonmidgen]

Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle (2017) Directed by Jake Kasdan

[manonmidgen]

[manonmidgen]

  manon had gone to the match to support her friends ; and partially because lucy convinced her it’d be a stellar idea.  and now she’d come to the afterparty, the celebration, for much the same reason. but had just too easily found herself lost in the crowd, a bit too wooden and uncomfortable to relax in what she continued to brag was her favourite past time ( because cool girls went to parties ; so manon said she loved them. )     as soon as everyone she knew ( or more precisely, was currently on speaking terms ) had lost themselves in the crowd, she moved to station herself by the refreshments, thinking that they’d have to come back sooner or later to replenish the buzz they were riding. 

       ❝   yeah  ...    s’been a bit of a day -- ❞   great conversational skills demonstrated by the usually proficient socialiser,    she couldn’t put her finger on why but manon had been totally off her game as of late,        ❝  but -- uh ! congrats on the win,   surprised you managed to scrape yourself back together enough to make it to the party.  ❞ a dry comment followed by a hint of laughter;   she really didn’t know enough about quidditch to make any other kind of smart comment on the match.  

where:  ravenclaw common room when:  24 february, 2024, nighttime who:  open to anyone @ hogwarts

     in spite of the several obligatory “good game!”’s he’d received, isaac’s reflection post-game had him feeling quite the opposite.  sure, ravenclaw won — no thanks to him, though.  his performance had been lousy.  one of his worst games in recent memory, if anything.  he managed to score a total of one time, and he took three bludgers in the course of the match.  cynically, isaac wondered which was more bruised:  his ego or his body?  he needed a drink.  dull the pain, drown his sorrows, he couldn’t decide.  victory was owed almost entirely to roxanne weasley, and something about that didn’t sit well with him.  he was torn between being a supportive teammate and being a petty, envious prick.  the macmillan boy forced himself into a more positive demeanor as he approached the drink table.  “what a fuckin�� day, right?”  he asked, chuckling as he poured himself a cup full of whatever was within reach.

[manonmidgen]

girls who used dress up games as an escape mechanism to feel pretty and good about themselves because they were made to feel ugly and unattractive growing up club

[manonmidgen]

黒崎くんの言いなりになんてならない

[manonmidgen]

MANON MIDGEN + magical spotify !  ft. @wiiltingflcwer

01. personal playlist [ LISTEN HERE. ] 

02. dedication to the dumbass duo [ LISTEN HERE. ]

[manonmidgen]

[manonmidgen]

bewareofthorns‌.

“YOU’VE NEVER LACKED CHARM, MANON,” rose said stiffly, adjusting her cardigan as she continued rearranging her things. she had not necessarily meant to direct the comment at her former friend, but rose figured it was all the better that manon had been within earshot. 

there were certainly misgivings in between them, but, just as she had said, the sting had long since subsided. it had been years since they had been friends, after all, and, while it had not been easy to learn that manon had outgrown her company, she had learned to accept it nonetheless. looking back, it hadn’t been all that terrible anyways. rose had had elise (at the thought of her late friend, her lip warbled and a rush of tears sprang to her eyes unbidden) and they had both moved on. 

if their healing had involved copious amounts of adopting a french accent and pantomiming playing a stringed instrument (mandolyn had played them like a fiddle, rose had bemoaned once and things had spiraled from there), then it was their business! and, if manon wanted to be shallow and callous and lose the opportunity to have known some of the best people in hogwarts, then it was her prerogative. they all made their choices. rose didn’t harbor any ill will towards manon for that.

“personally, i think manon is a dumb name. i’d have stuck with mandolyn. it certainly would have suited you better—  since you should just pluck off.”

okay, maybe rose still harbored a little ill will. 

         she’s engrossed with her movements towards her trunk ;    mostly to avoid the clutter that gathers in the early morning hours before classes started.  she notes her belongings amongst them, always lightly dipping to pick them so as to not find them missing when she finishes her prefect rounds at night. she ignores rose for a hot second, latching away everything but her satchel and needed equipment for the afternoon before perching at the end of her bunkbed -- satisfied with her outward appearance, and now with the intent to take stock of her bag. as she always does. in the exact same order, for once she’s found her routine, she sticks to it. 

                            ❝   you’re not exactly a good judge of charm, rose.   nor jokes apparently.  ❞    manon commented / her nose scrunching up with distaste at the reminder of who she once was. although, rose was a reminder of that on the daily, she’d gone through a lot of work to make sure all records of her actual first name was awfully hard to find.    it was obvious ; but she tried to hide the disgruntlement behind a jeer / a sneer / her lips pulling to an odd face as a way to demerit rose’s off hand comment.                   ❝   been sitting on that pun all morning, hm?     bare hilarious. surprised you weren’t sorted into ravenclaw for all the wit you have in your humour.  ❞ 

[manonmidgen]

   brown eyes are clear / bright / sparkling -- a genuine intrigue as the 5′7 manon tried to leverage the gained height of tip-toeing to try and peek in the contents.   there had been more than enough drama as of late, but the type of drama everyone (definition: those who had any sense of self-preservation) wanted to forget.  manon wanted the harmless, the lighthearted, the old school snickering about who was kissing who. that’s what she was more than ever yearning for.    and her ( not so good ) intuition told her the box may just hold the key to some emotional relief.

  ❝     yeah -- what’s inside?   ❞ she pressed, words flying by a bit too quick in all her eager.    and eureka; she was far from being proven wrong. for all manon claimed to be on a diet, always, her ideal facade seemed far less important than her mental health right now.  ❝     ooooh -- go on then !   i’ll trade you,    i’ll casually look away when i’m bottling the draught of peace at the end, and you just maybe forget to pack all of your cakes away.   deal ?   ❞   despite being the president of the potions club ; the stickler for the rules prefect often rigorously enforced the no using potions for anything other than research purposes (implemented to stop any pranksters from joining the club), but it was a known fact she could be bribed, very easily.     ❝    i mean,     i’ve been fine.     been better;   kind of mad that like,    none of the magazines i ordered in february have arrived yet.  but like whatever that’s unimportant.             are you okay though ?    you seem a bit swallow,    i have some spare powder in my bag by the way ... --         ❞ 

@manonmidgen says, ❝ What’s in the box? ❞

“huh?” her clumsy feet stumble over one of the legs of the tables as she swears. nothing seemed to be going right. her robes were agitated her. it felt like they were getting caught in everything. after a couple of seconds pass, she turns to look at manon. eyes wide, confused before realization settles in her. “ah! you mean this?” she raises the small white box with some excitement but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. there is this restlessness she carried with her, it almost felt too overwhelming. mailan couldn’t remember what they went over half of the classes because she spent it fidgeting, nervous, almost anxious. once again her thoughts are branches that are so intertwined you can’t find the difference between one or the other. “some cupcakes i made last night. i couldn’t sleep so i baked. i was nearly caught but alas i have these little sugary treats. you want some? i’m trying to give some away to anyone i encounter.” there was a pause. maybe the lack of sleep and stress made her bolder but she continued on, “do you think we could make the draught of peace? i know it’s like a lot but i haven’t slept in what feels like days and am this close to like —” breaking down “—going mad. please help.” somehow her tone remained slightly playful as she asked for help. odd, how she could find the strength to say such things. “if not, it’s fine. i won’t like die or anything. how’s your day going, manon?”

[manonmidgen]

MANDOLYN ‘MANON’ MIDGEN -> character analysis (01/??.)

the feminine is not dead. nor is she sleeping. ANGRY, yes. SEETHING, yes.

  divinity will stain your fingers and mouth like a pomegranate. it will swallow you whole and spit you out, wine-dark and wanting. you will reach for it again and again, greedy human fingers clutching at everything you can reach. the divine will curl its way through your veins and take you over and it will not leave you quietly. i feel divinity in my bones like aching;

girlhood is simply godhood.