Alexia Khadime and Lucy St. Louis in Wicked on the West End. 📸 Matt Crockett and Mark Senior for WhatsOnStage.

So with your obvious love of barbie einstein level hair - it's got me wondering how vain FB!Yelena is about picture day with the kiddos and family photos. Is she the terror that has them dressed to the nines by 7am and ensures they stay clean and proper for the 3 hours until their shoot?

Does Kate help? Is she a hindrance? Does she break out Katherine for family photos?

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There’s been so much angst lately and I miss our FBAU! Is Yelena particularly cuddly with her kids or is that more of a Kate thing

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Okay, this isn't EXACTLY an answer to these two, but it was inspired by them.

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Yelena buzzes around the kitchen, clad in one of Kate's old Columbia Archery t-shirts and a pair of satin short shorts. Her long blonde hair is fashioned into a messy, slept-on braid. Kate is a natural late riser, and the kids inherited this trait from her; therefore, Yelena looks forward to having weekend mornings to herself. This time is precious to her, as it's when she can enjoy the peace and quiet before the rest of the house wakes up. These little moments help keep her sane amidst the chaos of life.

Yelena takes her first satisfying sip of coffee and revels in the simple pleasure. However, her tranquil moment is interrupted by the sound of shuffling behind her. She glances at the clock. 7:15 AM. It's much too early for anyone else to be up, especially the grown adult mumbling and dragging their feet.

Kate flops her entire weight against Yelena's back, her head finding a resting place on Yelena's shoulder. After emitting a pathetic moan, Kate's sickly state becomes evident. Yelena is all too familiar with this behavior, as Kate becomes worse than their children when she's under the weather.

Slipping out from under her wife's weight, Yelena turns to get a good look at Kate, confirming her suspicions. Kate looks absolutely dreadful; she's sick.

"No. No. NO. Kate, no. I ask for very little. Just one thing. Family pictures are today. You can't be sick." Yelena exclaims, a gasp escaping her lips as a thought strikes her. "Katherine... you better not have gotten them sick..."

"Why me?! What if they got ME sick?! They're the walking germ bombs!"

"This was the first week all year that one or both of them didn't have some nasty thing going on. They were FINE."

“Nu-uh. Not my fault."

Kate whines, attempting to lean on Yelena once more, but Yelena retreats.

"Contagious! You're contagious." Yelena insists as Kate whimpers pitifully again. "You're not giving me whatever you have."

"Baby..."

"I should've known. I knew you were warmer than usual last night."

"I feel yucky. I don't like it."

"Go back to bed, please. I need you to sleep this off in..." Yelena turns to the microwave clock. "...the next six hours. We're not canceling the photographer."

"Babyyyyyy..."

"No 'baby.' Don't 'baby' me. Just do what I tell you. Go. Go, go. I'll check on them, then bring you something warm to drink."

Kate grumbles once more, hanging her head back while grimacing. Yelena rolls her eyes and pushes her wife to the bedroom as she heads in that direction too.

"Can I get kisses?" Kate dramatically pouts her lips.

"Absolutely not. What part of 'I don't want to get sick' is not clear enough?"

Reaching the hallway's turning point, where their paths diverge, Yelena urges Kate toward their bedroom.

"To bed, please. I need you up and ready to leave by 2 PM. We need these photos done today if we want to have them in time for Christmas Cards.  It's their last available slot this month, so I don't want to hear any excuses later." Yelena nudges Kate in the direction of their bedroom. "Bed. Now, please."

Kate huffs histrionically and shuffles down the hallway, disappearing into the room. Exhaling, Yelena turns on her heels and makes her way to two of the bedrooms located at the opposite end of the hall.

---

Yelena enters the main bedroom, cradling four-and-a-half-year-old Alexia in one arm and one-year-old Maks in the other. The children cling to her, visibly miserable.

"Both of them have a fever. Both." Yelena announces, placing them gently on the bed, where they immediately crawl over to Kate and snuggle up. "You're all quarantined now. We're containing this."

Kate weakly pats the empty space on the bed and mumbles something unintelligible.

"No way. I'm not exposing myself to your mysterious virus breath." Yelena retorts.

"Cuddles." Kate requests with puppy eyes and a pathetic tone.

"You have two perfect cuddle pals right there. I'll make him a bottle and you two some food." Yelena replies, turning to leave the room. As she heads towards the door, Kate leans in and whispers into Alexia's ear.

"Ask mommy for some cuddles."

"Momma, cuddles. Momma." Alexia repeats.

Yelena rolls her eyes, but a smile creeps onto her face as she turns back to face the bed, where three pitiful, snotty faces stare back at her.

"Don't make them do your dirty work." Yelena warns in jest.

"Is giving me love 'dirty work' now?"

"Katherine, you're sick. All of you are."

"EXACTLY why I need my wife to cuddle me. I'm here...languishing."

"Are you?"

Kate leans into Alexia’s ear again and whispers.

"Tell her I'm dying."

"Mommy's dying.”

Yelena's smile widens.

"Stop using them as pawns!"

"You tell her too. Tell her we're dying." Kate whispers into Maks’ ear, eliciting incoherent babbling from the baby. "You heard the man. The situation is DIRE."

"I'm going to make food now." Yelena declares, attempting to walk away.

"Cuddles or death. Are you really willing to risk it?"

"Momma." Maks whimpers.

When Yelena turns, she finds that Kate has recruited the little ones into her shenanigans, and now the trio is reaching out to her with grabby hands, beckoning her to join them in bed. Shaking her head, Yelena groans and steps closer to the bed.

"You're a pain in my butt...and when I'm sick too, there will be no one left to take care of you needy monsters." Yelena grumbles, sliding under the sheets and opening her arms. Kate quickly readjusts the kids, shifting them along with her as she snuggles into Yelena's embrace.

"Hmmmm...cuddles." Kate murmurs, and Yelena can't help but chuckle.

"You're a giant baby, Kate Bishop." Yelena teases, running her hand in soothing circles around Kate's back and tenderly kissing the top of her head.

"Uhum." Kate mumbles against Yelena's chest while their children doze off again, resting atop Kate.

The room falls into peaceful silence for a long moment until...

"ACHOO!"

Yelena sneezes, feeling the congestion suddenly weigh heavy on her chest. Kate smiles faintly against her skin.

"I like it when we do things as a family." Kate whispers.

"I hate you so much." Yelena playfully responds.

'There are no stepdads in our family — only a dad that has stepped up'

The author’s husband and two children. (Photo: Rays of Life Photography)

He didn’t know that I could hear them, and I couldn’t tear my attention away from their private conversation.

“Do you know what makes you even more special than the baby in mommy’s tummy?” my new husband asked my 6-year-old son, who was sitting on his lap.

“Because I’m your best buddy!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms around my husband’s neck.

“Yes, you are!” my husband chuckled back. “You are my buddy, and what makes you extra special to me is that your baby brother is being born into our family, but I picked you to be mine. I met you when you were 4, and I took a good long look at everything that makes you who you are, and I said to myself, ‘I want to be his daddy, because that’s how much I love him.’ Forever and ever and ever, you’re mine, because out of all the little boys in the whole wide world, I picked you.”

Six months pregnant with my new husband’s first biological child, I had tears streaming down my face as I listened to him assure my son — his stepson — that even though a biological child was on the way, he would never be a step down. Even though he was a little boy whose own biological father — my now ex-husband — had punched him in the face, and then abandoned him, myself, and my daughter.

My children have never seen him again, and for a long time my fiercely protective heart kept men away. Filling the father role wasn’t something I was seeking to do after so much hurt had been caused by the last one. So instead, I’d send my daughter off to the daddy-daughter dance with the husband of a friend, and cheer alone at my son’s preschool performances. And when my daughter would cry herself to sleep asking why no daddies wanted to love her, I would remind her that I loved her more than all the daddies in the world.

Author Eden Strong with her family. (Photo: Courtesy of Eden Strong)

My children were too special, and too precious, for me to settle for anything less than everything. And I was convinced that “everything” didn’t exist.

How could anyone love my children as much as I, their own flesh and blood, loved them?

But when I least expected it, he came along. And before I knew it, the officiant was pronouncing us not “husband and wife,” but “a family.”

My daughter now wears a necklace engraved with “The Day I Became Your Dad,” and my son can no longer remember a time before my (new) husband was here. When my daughter is sick, he sleeps on the floor next to her bed. When she needs ridiculously expensive gluten-free play dough for school, he is the first to whip out his credit card, despite my protests about the price. In fact, when my son was diagnosed with epilepsy that required tens of thousands of dollars in treatment, he never flinched at the bills coming in; because, as he told me, we take care of our kids. Right now, he’s at karate, cheering on “his son,” because there are no stepdads in this family, there is only a dad that has stepped up.

What we are going through isn’t unusual. The word “stepdad” seems to support the idea that fathers who arrive a bit late aren’t quite on par with biological fathers who were there first. But that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Photo: Courtesy of Eden Strong

There are plenty of examples of this in popular culture too. Matt Damon, stepfather to his wife’s oldest daughter, Alexia, doesn’t refer to her as anything other than his “daughter,” despite the media being quick to point out the she is the sole stepchild of the couple’s four children. It was even Alexia’s biological father who pointed out that Matt “treats Alexia like she is his own flesh and blood.” And recently, country music star Blake Shelton told People magazine that becoming a stepdad to the children he shares with wife Gwen Stefani had shown him a part of himself that he never knew was there. “It’s definitely an instinct that kind of kicks in,” he explained. “It’s easy to fall in love with those kids. They’re pretty special.”

My husband and I have since given birth to our first shared biological son, who is now 3 months old. And recently I brought up something that had been weighing heavily on my heart since he was born: I asked if having a biological child had made him feel differently about the two children I brought into our marriage.

“Not one bit,” he said without hesitation. Then he paused and added, “Well, actually, yeah, it has. It’s made me realize that I was always meant to be a dad to all three of them, because I couldn’t possibly love any of them more for being mine, or less because they didn’t start out that way. I love them all like my own, just as I always have, and I always will. They are all mine.”

I know that I am no special snowflake when it comes to stepdads stepping up, and it’s why I cringe every time that I hear someone refer to a stepdad as being not the “real” dad.

What is a real dad, if not a man who steps up to care for children who need him? There’s no DNA test needed to be a dad to a kid who needs one; in fact, there’s no test required to become a dad to any children at all. Which is why this Father’s Day, I’ll be celebrating all dads — but cheering a little bit harder for the stepfathers who have stepped up to be a dad to kids who may not have originally started out as theirs.

Real dads show up; the title’s not important.

Want to read more from Yahoo Lifestyle?

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Upon request, here's another fun/humor filled story that's also hot and sexy as well. I lost on the small breast/fat nipple drawing. Don't worry to those that like the naughty parts, they are at the end mixed in with the funny parts. I'm more curvy and portioned but happy with my figure. I know this sounds like an OkCupid profile but bare with me. I jokingly refer to myself as an Alexia Bledel's stunt double if she put on 40 lbs and had freckles. If you beloved this short article and you would like to acquire much more information with regards to free pictures of hairy pussy (grls.pics) kindly check out our own site. Grrrr annnnd moving on. 6hours and a sore back later, we arrived at our hotel. We didn't even get the Ocean View like we were promised. My gene-pool lottery gave me a winning pear shaped body complete with curvy hips and a bouncy cute ass. My two best friends took me on a roadtrip but I didn't want to go. I had a massive headache at this point and going out to drink just did not sound appealing. I exaggerated the headache even more and gave the girls the go-ahead to continue the night without me. We ate an early dinner at the hotel restaurant but my head was still killing me. Instead, we are looking at bushes and shrubs in much need of a pruning, stunning view of the fence and the crest of the grassy hill that over-looks that very lovely ocean view we were promised. " I'm barely through my sentence when the both of them are leaving a dust trail in their wake to hit the bars. I'm 31, 5'5, bright green eyes, medium length dark-blonde hair. It's my birthday weekend and dammit, I want to relax, 'not' get shit-faced. I go take a long nap and feeling a bit better but not enough to go out for the evening. Honestly, I just wanted to get some sleep and head back to the room. Trish feigns that, "ohh you sure you don't want me to come back with you? Ok, that out of the way, my Gonewild story starts a few years ago on my 29th birthday. I decide on chilling by the pool deck to work on my moon tan. I have a good ability to tune people so I'm content. ) and reading my kindle. How I hold onto it is beyond me but my reaction is more of stunned shock than anything else. The group of college guys and girls playing in the pool are loud but keeping to themselves. My actual birthday wasn't until tomorrow anyway so nothing was going to be ruined. He gives me the once over to make sure I was ok and nothing was broken but says nothing else. I start to hear shouts and alerts from the college group but don't register them in time. I'm in my one-piece swimsuit and shorts (ohh yeah, working on perfecting the non-mom milf look! Out of no-where, this water logged volleyball smacks my leg and practically knocks my kindle out of my free pics of hairy pussy hand. I can make teenagers avoid eye contact for upwards of 3 seconds and cause dogs to question if they actually did something wrong. Ohh yes, my glare is legendary. I'm beginning to fume and work up my courage to passively glare at the miscreants for ruining my birthday relaxation read. The much older brother of one of the college kids walks up to me and asks me if I'm all right. My glare subsides long enough to get that "omgheshotshitshitshit" look on my face. Jock#1 quickly comes over and apologizes while grabbing the ball to toss it back in the pool. " Don his name is, has "Classy Gentlemen" written all over his posture, demeanor on his shirtless physic. I'm pretty sure I have that "Bored Receptionist with gaping mouth open" look going for me. "Hey, sorry about that" he soothes, "Are you ok? " My look faltered into the "holyshityoujustmadeasexualreferenceaaarrrgggh! I just sit there in the lounge wondering what the hell just happened. I'm kind of chaperoning so its my duty. He ignored it with, ". Rough but polished to perfection. " I interrupted to change the subject, "A drink. I fumbled back, "No, it's ok. you can buy my a drink. The poor guy comes back (fully clothed now) about 20 minutes later with my poison of choice (Cadillac Margarita if you must know) and I ask him if everything was ok. " He smiled, agreed without saying much and I was happy to just having something to distract me from Mr Pecks McHugechest that was Don. His voice is like silky smooth gravel. " and "You know, if you just wanted birthday sex, there are easier ways to do it". Corny pick-up lines are eye rollingly bad, I know, but damnit if they don't work on me. My knight in shirtless-but-now-shirted armor! Don and I decide to go for a walk on the beach because reasons. Turns out he's as goofy as I am and has this great sense of humor. I drop my gear off at my room and find out girls with hairy cunts Don's is directly above me. give or take 30 or so rooms to the side. "Soo, do you often get wet when balls fly at your face? " I put on my good lowcut top to show off my non-existent cleavage and freshen up down below. I had to hook up with him at some point that weekend. Our walk-n-talk goes on for about 10mins or so and he puts his arm around my waist. Don is now sporting this god-awful tacky Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts that have an honest to goodness tear along the sides that could hide a badger in them an flip-flops that look like something he recycled from an 80's vintage store. I love a man who doesn't take things seriously. Turns out, the pool side bar was closed and he had to go into the restaurant bar to get it only they didn't allow no-shirts, blah blah blah, he went out of his way to get me that drink. By the 30min mark my head is on his shoulders and his hands are on my hip. My man in fleshy armor is waiting by the pool and he's looking GOOOOOD. I hope its the former and he takes it upon himself to start by kissing me on the lips in a full head grasping double handed embrace. I move his arm a bit so that his hand intentionally brushes my ass. He and I chitchat for a bit. I love to be kissed passionately and the soft glow of a quarter moon is adding to the intensity. I melt because this is my turn on. now I'm wet again and a second set of balls are the cause once more. My left leg was wrapping around his while my arms were entwined around his back and shoulders. There is minimal ambient light outside and definitely nobody on the beach that we can see. I'm horny as hell at this point and the gentlemen in him needs to be corrupted if things are to progress some time this century. God he smelled good too. Granted, I could have been giving him the "Hey, do you smell that? At some point, his fingers found there way inside my shorts and under my panties to grab hold of my bare ass. I'm not an exhibitionist nor do I actively do PDA, but I was caught up in the moment. We had wondered far enough away from the hotel that we couldn't see it anymore but nearing the next track of beach houses. I loved it knowing there was nobody around. Being nervous as fuck, he undid my shorts and slid them down to my ankles as I scanned up and down the beach to make sure there weren't anyone out for a walk. Instant shivers up and down my spine. Nobody could see us from the road or houses but we were in full open view to the shoreline if someone was walking along the beach. I barely had time to fully register that my bottoms were on the sand when I feel his tongue lick my lower lips. I actually hunched over from the wave of shocking pleasure. His hand found their way off my head and gripped my ass cheek in a firm hold. He was giving me standing oral, on a beach, at night and in a few hours it would be my birthday! It was actually too much for me as my system was in overload. I pause, look up and give him "the look". Don had led me up to a rocky cove of shore and bushes where it was semi secluded. His cock was average yet rock hard. I pulled down the remnants of the torn cloth he called shorts and I yanked down his boxers. I pulled Don away to stand him upright. He gasped and rolled his head back to stare at the stars. Holy SHIT this was hot. I got up off my knees from the sand and brushed myself off. His taste was good too. With both of our shorts and underwear at our ankles, Don plunged his dick into me and it felt good. He took the opportunity of my bent frame to position himself behind me and rub his cock up and down my slit. I know he is average but damn if it didn't feel perfect going in and out. Up the coast near where the hotel was, we saw some flashlights in the distance heading our way. I knew he wouldn't last long so I wanted him inside me first. I engulfed his dick into my mouth and swallowed it whole. I recovered from the shock and arched my head back as my hand felt onto the back of his head. Don and I were enjoying ourselves too much to care at that point as both of us were on the verge. I grabbed hold of it at the base and teased it with some girly licks. I had already finished and working towards a second as Don was still pounding away when we heard the familiar jiggle of a dog collar. My sand filled panties and shorts flew back around my hips but Don had a harder time as his cock was still stone hard and I could tell he was struggling. The fucking dog that we heard came bounding up to us happily to greet new guests. I felt a small yet much needed orgasm coming and it hit me hard and fast. Feel free to say that in Doug's voice. The owner strolled up a minute or two later with a look of disgust at the two of us. New smells coming from their crotches. The weather beaten old man just grumbled under his breath and never acknowledge our hellos and casual attempts at a greeting. We made our way down to the beach again trying to look nonchalant and just a couple out for a stroll. SHOW STOPPER as we knew it was close and there wasn't much time. He attached the leash to his precious dog to prevent our sexual taint from disturbing his innocent nose. Poor guy could only cum once to my half dozen or so times. Performance anxiety I guess because he really didn't want to get caught by my friends as they walked in. Don and I wasted no time in stripping off our clothes and fucking like rabbits for the next half hour or so. Ok, looks like he knew what we were doing. like the college group didn't know what he actually just did. Don eventually gave up on the second orgasm and quickly showered to wash off the sex we had. Poor naive good-guy knight. We made our way back to the hotel, made a quick view of the parking lot to check if Trish and Angie were back and made a bee line to my room. submitted by ThrowawayCumbackF [link] [comment] Maybe it was the thought of being caught, or knowing we could be at any moment, it sent me over the edge fast.