pastel blue nail polish


Video by slimepuffs on Instagram~


(( Face reveal!! (With a bonus pic of when I cosplayed Lucoa from Dragon Maid recently~))

Crown of Daisies (Snape x Reader)

Request: Maybe do one where reader makes Snape a flower crown and he doesn’t want to wear it but does anyway because he doesn’t want to make her sad??

Pairings: Snape x Reader 

Warnings: none

Notes: (y/h/c) - your hair color

a/n: idk if the reader is a professor, student, or whatever. your choice :)

My fingers were sore and peeling from the sharp ends of the floral twine. My nails were broken and the pastel blue/purple gradient polish had chipped. I looked over at the crown of daisies lying on the smooth, polished table before me. I placed the crown atop my head and looked myself in the mirror. The daisies intertwined with each other sat fragile, yet so beautiful. The whites of the petals matched my silky (y/h/c) hair, while the yellow pollen added a subtle hint of boldness. 

I smiled. It was dazzling.  

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I skipped through the Hogwarts corridors, humming a tune and listening to the mindless chatter of students. The path I followed led to the dank, dark dungeons. It was quiet, as lessons had ended for the day. So quiet, in fact, you could hear the drip, drip of water droplets and the scribbling of a quill from down the hall. 

My footsteps slowed to a walk as I approached Professor Snape’s office. I knocked on the door softly, waiting for permission to enter. 

“Come in,” said Snape’s low, gravelly voice. 

“Hello,” I said cheerfully, stepping into the office, lit only by a small, rustic chandelier. 

“Miss (y/l/n). To what do I owe the pleasure?” Snape spun around on his chair to face me.

“I brought something for you.” I removed the daisy crown from my head and placed it on his desk. 

“What is this?” Snape picked the crown up and began inspecting it. 

“Well, what does it look like?”

“What am I to do with a daisy crown?”

“Oh, I don’t know, wear it?”

“Miss (y/l/n), I do not have time to indulge in childish affairs such as wearing flower crowns atop my head.”

“C’mon, I made it for you,” I said, maintaining my cheerful tone despite the disappointment my feelings harbored. 


“Pleeeaaasseee?” I lowered my head, lifting and widening my eyes. 

“Fine,” he said and finally placed the crown atop his head. It was a funny sight: a feared professor and former Death Eater wearing a childish flower crown. “Happy?”

“Very much so,” I said before turning my heel and skipping back to my dormitory.