#casper ft reina

[canthelps]

@lilacwiine​ didn’t ask for this but i miss our lil family

“look, I know you think her being a ballerina would be cute, but do you know the success rate of becoming a professional ballerina?” casper sighed, taking a sip of his beer as he did. It had come to that point where every parent had to make a decision regarding their childs future: what extra curriculars they did. “and then you see how well the lionesses did at the euros this year? we could have a little ellen white on our hands. we should definitely put her in football. and surely, isn’t it more feminist?”

[canthelps]

neveah giggled, before burying her face in casper's shirt, and he playfully rolled his eyes as he walked over to the hob, looking down at the somehow burnt eggs. "well, it depends if we want to deal with little miss being hyper or if we want to try and find a brunch place on a sunday that isn't full of drunk people" he mused as their daughter piped up that she was hungry "maybe a piece of toast first? because i wouldn't mind a nice eggs benny and then we can go to the p-a-r-k" he spelt out the last word, so to not excite the toddler if they weren't going to go.

"you ratted me out, baby. not cool," reina chided, though her tone wasn't really very serious at all. "i didn't know i was raising a good critic. she must get it from you." opening the window to air out the slightly... burnt smell, she set her hands on her hips. "are we doing poptarts or heading out?"

[canthelps]

"i was wondering why nevaeh came in my room complaining" casper said, bouncing their toddler on his hip, and wrinkling his nose at the smell. "she's asking me for poptarts because apparently what you made her was 'icky'"

open to anyone. muse: reina pasqual. 28 years old. bisexual. she/her. yoga instructor. plot: someone she’s dating, a hook up/fwb, just a friend who stayed the night, ect.

“i uh… tried to make breakfast.” which explains the burning smell currently filling her apartment. “ —you wanna go for brunch instead?”