Nobody asked but have some ship playlists I made that I am stupid proud of
Johnitary
Vandermatthews
Mormor
Molliarty
Molmormor
Mollrene
Padtime
Jars (idr the ship name for Ethan/Norman)
Codywan
Specifically Victorian Mormor
Johnstain
Sebncer (yes I made a playlist for the crackship)
Dianseven (there's two of these but I'm too lazy)
Anyway uh don't judge my ships PAJDKKSJFOS you can judge my music taste tho bc it's... something. But I add new songs like every other day because I'm very bored.
i would love to see mormormol for #7, being drenched while wearing white. drenched in what? welp, that's up t o you :D
being drenched whilst wearing white (I feel like now I have to do something that's not water, but I am coming up blank. ugh. okay, let's see. this is in the Triptych universe)
---
"I'm not talking to you!"
"Molly! Molls! Molly, dearest! Come on! Wait up!"
Molly's already hit her first growth spurt and is currently taller than both Jim and Sebastian, a fact which irritates both of them no end and which she is currently putting to good use. She's already halfway across the school yard and heading purposefully towards the little patch of woods where they first met.
"I'm sorry!" Jim tries, just as she reaches the tree line.
That gets her to stop at least. She whirls around and yells, "That's a start!"
They finally catch up to her on the bent tree that's perfect for sitting. She's covered head to toe in red, and her formerly white dress is clinging to her frame.
"I swear we didn't know it would get you," Jim says, hands up as if to defend from her murderous stare.
"You knew!" she insists. "You knew I would be at Mass today!"
"I swear we didn't."
Sebastian nods along and she turns her glare on him. "We didn't know, Molls."
"It's not even real blood anyway," Jim mutters resentfully.
There's a pause, and then Molly tackles him, driving both of them into a mud puddle and splashing Sebastian too. She sits up, admiring her handiwork. Their shirts are now just as stuck to their chests, and Jim's nipples are already starting to harden in the cool spring air. She flicks one. "Are you sorry now?"
She looks at Sebastian first and he nods, easy smiling already starting to return to his face. Jim looks like he's going to argue, but she moves like she's going to pinch his nipple and he gives in. Molly gets up and pointedly doesn't help Jamie to his feet.
Molly gazes mournfully at the bikini laid out across the suitcase. Rain pounds against the windows, and she sighs. “Sweater it is.”
Seb’s in the kitchen frying eggs, and Jim is sprawled across the couch reading a hideously boring looking book. Molly sits on him.
“We agreed no work. We’re at the beach, Jamie! It’s time to relax and enjoy life.”
“I was enjoying life, until a horrible person came and sat on me,” he pouts.
Molly leans over and kisses his nose. “Sorry, darling.”
“Would you two stop being sickening?” Seb grouses.
“Come join us if you’re jealous, Sebastian,” Jim says, stretching out under Molly’s weight.
“Someone has to provide for you two,” he responds, dishing eggs out onto three plates.
Molly hops up and goes to get hers, kissing Seb in thanks. “You’re the best.”
He flaps a spatula at her and frowns, but the tips of his ears turn pink with pleasure.
“So, plans for the day,” says Jim, as they eat their breakfast.
“Well we can’t go down to the beach,” Molly sighs, “not in this weather.”
Jim and Seb exchange a look that Molly barely catches.
“What? What’s going on?”
Jim grins slightly, and refuses to answer, even after Molly chases him around the tiny cottage. She was about to have him trapped in a corner when he unexpectedly launched himself forwards instead of away and she finds herself on her back with an armful of triumphant Irishman. Which leads to an armful of snickering Englishman, and well, what with one thing and another, it’s a while before she remembers what started the whole mess in the first place.
“What was that look about earlier?”
“What look?” Jim asks, all false innocence.
She turns to Seb, but he flops over on the carpet, feigning sleep.
“I’ll figure it out, you know,” she warns. “I am the smart one in this relationship.”
Jim lets that comment pass which is suspicious in and of itself, and pulls her close to cuddle.
Molly wakes up later in the bed. The rain is still falling heavily. She stretches and rolls out of bed. Her sweater and jeans are somewhere in the living room, so she pulls on some of Jim’s and pads out to find her boys.
“Ah, Molly dearest!” Jim says with a jaunty wave. “Put on your bathing suit and come join us.”
She freezes in the doorway to the living room, absolutely stunned. There’s a sizeable pile of sand and three beach chairs have been positioned in it. There’s also a large striped umbrella and a bucket and spade. Jim and Seb are sprawled out in the two side chairs in swim trunks and sunglasses, sipping on fruity drinks.
“Don’t just stand there, come on. Your drink is getting warm.”
“You are ridiculous, and perfect, and I love you,” she exclaims, kissing them both and darting away to change into her suit.
She settles into the middle chair, and digs her toes into the sand. “I’m going to keep enjoying this, obviously,” she says, taking a long sip of the delicious punch, “but how are you planning to get rid of the sand when we’re done?”
“It’s a beach house,” Jim says simply. “They’ve got to expect a little sand to get in.”
For Gillian. Until it becomes feasible for me to write you MolMorMor while physically out of the atmosphere, please accept this as a poor substitute.
Recommended listening: Blows Against the Empire by Jefferson Starship
Recommended watching: 2001: A Space Odyssey
Word Count: 1,286
(now on AO3 as well)
Molly had never had much free time aboard the Bartholomew. Not to complain or anything. She’d loved it. Of course she’d loved it; practicing medicine on a deep space cruiser had always been her dream. But, well, there it was. She didn’t get much free time on the Napoleon either. They ran a skeleton crew - computers did most of the work, and wasn’t that amazing - so everyone had several jobs to do. She frequently had to clean things up, or, well, not make food - it was all in prepackaged blocks - but distribute it. And she’d had to improve her skills at trauma medicine smartish, and learn how to tell if various substances were counterfeit or not (and in turn learn how to counterfeit other substances). So, life wasn’t easy by any stretch of the imagination, but she was in space. And really, what more had she wanted out of life? So Molly spent most of her free time up on A-Deck, watching the stars drift by.
The only problem with this plan was that it made it easier for the other crew members to find her.
“He’s at it again.”
Molly sighed, but didn’t move. “He’ll pull himself out of it eventually.”
“We have a meet-up in a few hours.”
Molly sighed again. That was a problem.
Normally, they floated through space without encountering anyone else for days if not longer. But these meet-ups were how they financed the operation, and Molly liked being airborne, fed, and not dying in the blackness of space, so yes, it was important to get their captain back in the land of the living (or at least human). Not important enough that she couldn’t take her sweet time, though.
She stuck a hand up in the air, and waggled it around. Seb sighed, but walked over to pull her to her feet. She skipped a step, and leaned against him to stay upright. “Gravity must be a bit off,” she said with a wink.
He smirked back. “Is now the time, Miss Hooper?”
“Doctor Hooper,” she replied, patting his cheek. “Right. Let’s see the patient, shall we?”
The Napoleon was small. Smaller than the Bartholomew certainly, though most ships in the sky were; that thing was a behemoth. It didn’t take them long to make their way to the computer room. Seb swung the door aside, and gestured in frustration. Molly peered in carefully; this was the eeriest room on the ship, and she never really liked having to do this.
The gravity had been turned off. Molly’s ponytail started floating by her face as she leaned her torso into the room. Except for small walkways, all six surfaces in the room were covered in softly glowing or blinking or undulating lights, and screens of every size, with a multitude of wires and cables linking everything. It was the farthest thing from standard issue computer processing that Molly had ever seen. Computers could be used to control simple things like oxygen levels, and gravity, and thrust, but the intricacies of safe and effective space travel were beyond even the most complicated of systems. Except for these.
Jim hovered in the middle of the space he had built, a web of wires and tools drifting around him like satellites around a sun. Molly pushed off, and carefully pulled herself along until she was in his orbit too. His eyes were closed and he was muttering to himself, fingers moving as if he was typing. No wait, he was actually typing she realized as she noticed that the uplink in the back of his neck was hooked up.
She hung there, kicking her legs idly to keep mostly upright and away from the walls. She could tell this was going to be a tricky one, so she would taking her time. Seb watched impatiently from the doorway, but she waved him away. He stomped off to doing something no doubt important and violent. Fine. Somebody should be on watch anyway.
First things first. Molly waved the tools and most of the wires away, putting things where they went if she knew, and batting them towards the hall and the gravity if she didn’t. Second step: make sure nothing could get broken, including Jim and herself, if he reacted badly to step four. Next: wait. This was the worst step. Because the uplink was in his head, she was never entirely sure when it was safe to pull him out. She waited until his fingers stopped moving and his muttering had trailed off, and, finally, yanked the cord.
Jim jerked in surprise, and reached out for something Molly couldn’t see. “Oh,” he whispered.
He shivered, and turned neatly to face her. She was always amazed at how easily he moved in zero gravity. “Where’s Seb? I was just telling him-”
“It was the uplink. You were talking to the computer.”
“I wonder why the computer decided to look like Seb today,” he mused. “Normally, she looks like you.”
Molly blushed. “You’ve uh, you’ve got a meet-up coming. You’d better get ready.”
He floated past her, brushing a finger against her cheek as he did, and touched down with a grace that she envied. “What would I do without you, Molly dearest?” he asked, before vanishing towards the personal quarters.
Not entirely sure what to do next, Molly straightened up a bit more and wandered back up to A-Deck. Jim and Seb would want it for the meet-up - it was the most impressive space on the ship and it always did to make a good impression - but it was free for now, and Molly still had a bit of free time.
She knew that what they did was illegal, she wasn’t an idiot, but she did try not to think about it too hard. She’d never seen any violence, but the wounds she treated on Seb and the various other men and women that came through her infirmary weren’t the kinds caused by normal space travel. There was also the fact that her payment didn’t come on any sort of regular schedule. It always came, but usually in fits and bursts linked to the trips they’d taken recently. For someone who’d gone through the ranks on a government vessel, Molly was surprisingly okay with this knowledge. It was probably a sort of “honor among thieves” thing, but Molly honestly felt more comfortable here than she ever had on the Bartholomew. Seb and Jim weren’t nice - far from it - but they respected her, and that was, well, nice.
She wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her chin on them. She hadn’t been there from the start; hadn’t been there when they hijacked the ship (though Jim recounted the story so often and with such enthusiasm that she often felt as if she had been). She’d joined up with the crew of the bonnie Napoleon later on, when Jim had crossed one of the scientist on board and had to use Molly as part of an improvised escape plan. She hadn’t looked back though, which she found worrying and strange only in retrospect.
The door to the deck slid open behind her.
“Thinking again, Molly dearest? I won’t stand for it. I’m supposed to be the intelligent one around here.”
“Just contemplating my place in the universe,” she responded.
“Your place is right here,” Jim said, offering her a hand up.
She took his hand, but didn’t stand yet. She stretched her other hand out wordlessly, and Seb took it. The stars spun outside the window in a constantly shifting dance. Molly smiled, and pulled herself to standing.
“Right, gentlemen. What’s on the table for today?”
