#*femke on.

“maybe.” her lips were pursed, she knew exactly what her the point of the question was     and she’d rather not risk showing all her cards when she knew her sister might be bringing the future tsar of russia.  “but i know i’m thirty and people keep harping on about a wedding, i don’t know if i’d want put someone through all that.” ( @femkelotte​ )

“hold on- hold on- lemme just...” dianna dropped the five shopping bags from saks onto the floor by the door, before she tread forwards -- half terrified, and half in awe. “i don’t think i could, i might drop her and i’m scared.” she pouted up at her friend, tottering awkwardly from one foot to another as she peered at the baby. “you know what, i bet she’ll cry once i hold her... babies are very good judges of character, and i’m terrible.” 

“oh my god- only you can make a pregnancy look this good.” she whined, and it was they were transported back to their university days back in columbia, all girlish giggles and squeals as they ran up and down their sorority brownstone. “i absolutely refuse to take a picture with you... okay maybe one - our sisters will put it on the dg insta and the newsletter. hopefully my parents wont see how good you look and pester me to get pregnant...” she paused, thinking for a second. “...even more than they already do, i mean.”  ( @femkelotte​ )