|
Post by Kappa on Jun 12, 2022 19:17:59 GMT
5:00 PM at an undisclosed version of New York City, an auditorium is filled to the brim with people from various parts of the multiverse, in one way or another, involved with the myth, the legend, Jean Grey.
People are present for different reasons, yet, similar ones all the same. Their relationship with a Marvel Girl. Be it platonic or romantic, everyone is there because, ultimately, they need to be. It's helpful.
A podium microphone on stage is tapped lightly by a dark blue hand. The feedback sharp.
"Is everyone seated?" A German Accent asks as the mike spikes. "Gut. Hallo, I am Kurt Wagner." Nightcrawler introduces himself with a smile. "To those of you new here, welcome to the Jean Grey Support Group. We are all hear to listen and be heard. Please, let us all be respectful as our first speaker for the night takes the stage."
Kurt poofs to his chair as the speaker walks on stage. This person in particular...
~Rachel Grey, Jean's daughter, coming to terms with her mom's new girlfriend
~Celeste Frost, Emma's clone daughter, coming to terms with her mom's new girlfriend
~Emma Frost, Jean's Ex Wife, trying to deal with her new single life
~Scott Summers, Jean's husband, coming to terms with his wife's recent affair
~Suggestion
|
|
|
Post by Esme Frost on Jun 13, 2022 0:07:57 GMT
Rachel hasn't taken these things well in the past. How's she doing this time?
|
|
|
Post by Kappa on Jun 13, 2022 2:51:18 GMT
👩🏻🦰My name is Rachel Grey, I'm 17 years old and I was born and raised on Genosha. A few years ago, my Dad died when Hydra invaded the island... He died a hero and I'm really proud of him. My Mom, Jean, was raising me on her own since I was 7... Recently, she started dating again and, well, I didn't exactly take it well...
Rachel Grey wasn't use to being in America, she wasn't use to New York, and she most certainly wasn't use to Xavier Memorial. An institution, out of the blue, her mother dragged her to, a school, out of nowhere, her mother decided to enroll Rachel into!
Rachel didn't understand the rhyme or reason, that is, until Monday morning, half an hour before her first class, when, unfortunately, she came across her mom with none other than her new headmistress. Emma Frost.
"... How are your pancakes, Sweetie?" The Pear Shaped Redhead, wrapped in a green robe, hair in a bob, sporting a pair of cat-eye glasses with green frames, asks her daughter nervously as they awkwardly sit inside a diner a few blocks away from school.
"... They're good." Rachel, playing with her food, a fork in hand, mushing the flapjack with a loud thwapping thunk.
"They're really good here." Emma Frost, a mature blonde, an elegant, refined beauty in a blue pantsuit chimes in. "It's a shame you're vegetarian, darling, the sausages are simply divine."
"They sure are." Jean agrees, looking at her lover with wistful eyes. Grabbing a sausage with left hand, she slowly takes a nibble at the tip.
Emma can't help but blush, Rachel drops her head the side, hitting wall in a loud crack.
The Couple quickly come their senses.
"... Sorry." Jean says with a frown. "I-I know this is a lot for you."
"Moving to another country is one thing. But finding out my is... finding out my has a girlfriend?!"
"Woah, let's slow down a bit." Emma raises her hands cautiously. "Girlfriend is a very strong word and--"
Jean glares green daggers of rage at the matriarch of Xavier Memorial.
"And yes." Emma places her hand atop the redhead's. "We are girlfriends."
Jean smiles, Rachel frowns.
"This is going to be a hard adjustment, I know, sweetie. But we'll be really here, Rachel, I know we will."
Rachel sighs.
"Whatever." Rachel stands. "It's not like my opinion matters or anything." Rachel shakes her head. "Do what you want, I guess. I should get going, don't want to be late for class, even if my mom is fucking the principal!"
"Rachel!" Jean drops her jaw.
👩🏻🦰I ran out after that. It's about 2 weeks and I haven't said a word to either of them... it's just too much for me.
~A Support Group Member gives Rachel some advice ~Rachel adds to her story ~Another New Member tells their story (suggestions)
|
|
|
Post by phoenix10 on Jun 20, 2022 14:46:46 GMT
"Wait...that's really your problem? You came all the way out here and that's your problem?"
Rachel turned in her chair and locked eyes with a Rachel who looked about her age. She had short, spikey red hair, a brow piercing, and a few tattoos. Her pale arms were crossed over her leather vest.
"And what kinda reality do you come from?!" Our original Rachel said with a note of ire in her voice.
Goth Rachel smacked her black painted lips mockingly. "My Jean blew up a planet. Killed millions of aliens. Then she came back to Earth and kidnapped my step-mom, Emma, and killed my dad. Emma is Jean's live-in maid...though Jean makes her do a lot more than clean."
The other Rachel looked at her twin with wide eyes.
"Makes your reality look pretty tame, huh?" Goth Rachel popped her bubblegum. The other Rachel flinched.
"Do you...do you still live with them?"
"Nah...I ran off with the guy I found out is actually my real dad. Logan. We're creating an underground resistance to overthrow Jean. She's done a lot of damage. She needs to be stopped." She paused. "Just appreciate the Jean you have. She sounds like a nice lady."
Rachel gulped. "I guess...in comparison."
- Rachel goes back to her reality with a changed mind - Someone else speaks up
|
|
|
Post by Kappa on Jun 21, 2022 1:36:02 GMT
As Rachel pondered how insignificant her drama was in the grand scheme of things, a middle aged blonde, with deep bags under her eyes, a slender beauty with a mild muffin top, dressed in a blue pant suit, saunters on stage with a rather large package in her pants.
"...She's a futa." The Punk Rachel whispers to her doppelgänger.
"... A what?!" Rachel looks puzzled.
"A futa. She's got a dick and pussy. It's pretty gnarly. I hear they knock up chicks and get knocked up."
Rachel drops her jaw with batting eyes.
"I wonder what orgasms are like for them?" The Punk Rachel questions. "You think it's better than ours?"
"I-I don't--"
A shush from behind quiets the pair. Emma was about to speak. Rachel can't help but wonder where this will go!
👩🏻🦳My name is a Emma Frost, I'm 46 years old, I'm an accountant at Xavier Savings and Loans, I'm the father of five beautiful children, and I'm the wife of Jean Grey. It's been a tough 25 years, but, lately, I just... I don't know how to keep going...
Her naked, sweaty body on a leather couch, Emma pants as she hears the sounds of bacon sizzling from the kitchen.
"That better be turkey bacon!" Emma shouts.
"Not in this house!" A husky voice coos.
Emma sighs. She's been trying to go on a diet after her last doctor appointment put her on 4 additional medications!
She felt so old lately, and tire, and her diet was helping that. Not to mention the sex!
Emma gets up, a challenge after a long day at work and very passionate sixty minutes of hardcore sex.
"Gaaah!" Emma growls, hands on her lower back, her boobs flopping wildly, her muffin too jiggling, her unkept bush showing of a big, floppy wiener.
As she swings into the kitchen, her junk like an elephant in the savanna, she pauses to see a mammoth sized rear, big, bumpy, with wide hips and tree truck thighs, wiggling in a green apron and only a green apron.
"There's this trick I saw on Pinterest." Jean explains. "If you add water at high heat, let it boil, set to medium, let it crispy, and then go to low, you get the perfect, crispy strips of bacon, Emmy!"
Emma sighs, her gut growling, her mind focused on breakfast for dinner when it most certainly shouldn't be.
"Can you please stop blind siding me?" Emma begs. "I'm trying to have an honest conversation with my wife."
"Oh, that reminds me, we should try that waffle maker Rachel got us, can you go to the pantry and--"
"Jean!" Emma grabs the redhead by the shoulders, turning her around with a growl.
"Emmy... After breakfast!" Jean giggles.
Emma shakes her head.
"Is Rachel my daughter?"
"..." Jean avoids eye contact.
"Is she Scott's?!"
"..." Jean attempts to get back to her bacon.
"Jean! Is our 22 year old daughter mine or not?!"
👩🏻🦳I know she's not, I can smell she's not. But I want Jean to say it... what's fuck up is... well... the only thing I want is for Jean to admit that so I can punish her in bed like the slutty bitch she is!.. I can't help but feel pathetic about it.
|
|