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hattersarts · 1 year

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MARGO x MOLLY FOR ALL MANKIND REAL.

i've been watching for all mankind (giving me daily cry sessions) and margo x molly real and i love them. rude ass pilot who's happy place is the moons vs maths/physics genius who learns work politics and heads nasa???????????????????? i am smitten

and listen they do actually also have canon lesbians who's story i rly love but u know im in it for the bastards i can make shit up for

#molly cobb #margo madison #for all mankind #margo x molly

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ddagent · 15 days

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Finally, a side of you I like.

#margo madison #molly cobb #margo x molly #for all mankind #forallmankindedit #famedit #dd: gifs #tv: for all mankind

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thefrakkintrinity15 · 1 month

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I miss them so much 🥲

#for all mankind #margo madison #molly cobb #apple tv #margo x molly

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moocowmoocow · 7 months

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Another thing I love about @maliwart is I can give them a prompt like "MOLLY ON MARGO'S PIANO LIKE LUCY IN PEANUTS" and they make something beautiful with it.

#margo madison #molly cobb #margo x molly #for all mankind #fanart

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thegirlsinthecity · 7 months

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Wayne 🤝 Molly 🤝 Margo 🤝 Sergei

They both have two hands

#polycule of all time I tell you #for all mankind #margo madison #molly cobb #wayne cobb #sergei nikulov #margo x molly #margo x sergei #wayne x molly #thegirlsinthecity

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tiltedsyllogism · 7 days

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for fic wip meme: 'wayne is not okay actually' because i'm apparently in a torment that little stoner kind of mood as of late.

(from this fic ask meme)

this is only a few days old (and a prime example of how making a you-have-to-finish-something-first rule never works.) It comes from a combination of two things: 1) @cicada-circuitry's Molly/Margo fic (or rather the tags on and comment conversation about that fic) about how it's quite possible and reasonable that some(/all) of Molly's extracurricular relationships might in fact be a point of tension between her and Wayne, and

2) ongoing conversations with @havingbeenbreathedout about how one of the strengths of FAM's characterizations is that we get to see (most of) its major characters engaging in self-deception about what the world is like or their role in it

they cross-pollinated in my head in a way that has me wondering about the kinds of stories Wayne tells himself about himself, about Molly, and about their marriage in order to manage any bad feelings he might have about her relationships with others. And also about how willing he is to own up to having those bad feelings at all! Because Wayne is amazing and all, but none of us are exempt from self-deception.

Anyway, here is everything I have that isn't notes a bit of dialogue. It's Wayne PoV, set around 1986, and the premise is that a) Margo and Molly have a long-term casual arrangement, b) Margo is becoming deeply invested in Sergei, c) Molly has just picked up on that and is feeling jealous and d) she and Wayne are discussing that. Below the cut:

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Wayne follows her into the darkened kitchen, where she’s staring into the fridge. “Okay,” he says slowly. “Does it sound like it’s going in that direction?”

“Fuck if I know,” Molly says. “Probably not. You know what Margo’s like.”

Wayne doesn’t really know what Margo’s like. Wayne’s met her a handful of times but she’s always distant, always crisp. And there’s no way she’s like that with Molly, at least not all the time. Most of what Wayne knows about Margo are facts he could learn from a newspaper or the things he invented back before he took responsibility for his own fears and stopped letting himself brood about her. So no, he really doesn’t know, and it annoys him that Molly doesn’t seem to understand that. But that’s not a helpful response, so Wayne nods to himself in the dark, dialing down his heartbeat, softening his tone before it comes out of his mouth.

“So then what are you upset about?” he asks.

“Leave it the fuck alone, Wayne.” Molly doesn’t turn around. “You don’t understand.”

“That’s right, Molly, I don’t understand.” His voice is getting higher, which means he’s probably upset and should probably stop talking, but he doesn’t do that. “Because last I checked your thing with Margo was, was casual and not –”

“Not what?” Molly asks. She closes the fridge and turns around. “Not what, Wayne? You can’t fuck someone for seven years and not…”

Not what? he wants to ask. But that would be childish, so he waits.

“And not care about what they feel.” Molly has folded her arms and looked away. As if he could even see her face in their dark kitchen anyway. She can’t ever look at him when she says something important.

“Well that’s funny, Molly, because you’ve been fucking me a lot longer than that and in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m having some feelings about this too. Do you care about that?”

#for all mankind #wayne cobb #my fic #molly cobb #margo madison #molly x wayne #margo x molly

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sparkleplatypuswriter · 10 days

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I am very curious about both Fitting and the road trip AU!

Thanks for asking :) Fitting has ballooned so much that I do not know if it will ever truly be done or see the light of day on AO3, but it is a Margo/Sergei, except Apollo-Soyuz happens in 1975. Road Trip AU was meant to be a gift, but alas, I could not finish it and got super anxious about doing it justice in time for the exchange (I regrouped and wrote something else). It's a Molly/Margo College AU taking place in the 90s where Molly places an ad in the campus paper for a road trip partner to head cross country with to Portland. Molly's going to see Bikini Kill in concert. Margo, who responds to the ad, is going to "some boring conference" (according to Molly). ******* Rebel girrrrrlllllll. Rebel girrrrrrlllll. Rebel girl, you are the Queen of my world.

Kathleen Hanna’s screech rings out in the tinny car sound system off a nearly worn out, wobbly cassette. Molly’s hands bang along the steering wheel to the beat as she lowly mimes the words along.

Margo is stiff in the passenger seat beside her, adjusting her glasses and reading what appears to be some physics text book.

Molly turns the dial on the volume up louder, and she can feel the frustration emanating from Margo at the intrusion.

The song charges on, eventually switching to “Outta Me.” Margo is shifting in her seat and practically plugging her ear with one of her fingers. When she pulls out a notebook and starts scribbling, Molly starts to feel… a tiny tinge of guilt.

She clears her throat.

“You could, uh, put on something you want to listen to next…. If you want.”

Margo stares at her a moment before scrunching up her face.

“I dunno if you’ll like it.”

“Do you like this?”

“Not particularly,” Margo replies honestly.

“Well… fair is fair,” Molly says. “You gotta have a cassette buried somewhere in that backpack of yours.”

Margo frowns and then turns to dig into her bag. She pulls out one that Molly doesn’t see the label of, ejects the Bikini Kill album, pops hers in, and hits play.

Molly suppresses a chuckle when she hears the opening of a piano chord but relaxes a bit when the dissonance of the piece starts chiming through. A bass and drums kick in, and Molly recognizes it as a John Coltrane album her father has. Could be worse, she thinks.

#for all mankind #margo x molly #college AU #roadtrip AU

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cicada-circuitry · 1 month

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#God tho this does make me want to pull back up that notebook fic snippet i had#of Margo confronting Molly about this too but like with science.#Margo would know. Just saying. She knows. ⃪ does this mean you have Molly/Margo fic?

Hi anon! sorry this is now several days late but boy do I. ( watched FAMK for the first time in February, wound up with Pages and pages of fic snippets (for a couple ships, margo x molly included) in chicken scratch on physical paper which is always a great sign that im being normal about a show, thought I'd cure myself if I just watched the whole thing a second time and absolutely only made it worse. )

I meant to answer this ask by just typing up the quick excerpt of the fic I was talking to myself in the tags about but...... started typing and did not stop. It lives over here now! Was not the one of the notebook fics I thought would see the light of day but you know? why not.

(I assume if you're here you, like me, have already read all the fics to be found but if you have Not read everything in that tag already, highly recommend. this fandom may be small but boy did it have good food on offer when I rolled in four years late fresh off a few episodes and absolutely screaming.)

Since I went ahead and dropped that one on ao3 at like 4am i'll throw in something a little more typical of the the notebook archives - how about this thing that exists entirely bc i noticed that used bookstore you can see beside the Outpost in season 1 and it gave me Ideas

Sometime post crossword-quiz / pre- run-in at the Jazz club.

Margo walks fast past the Outpost on her way over to Bargain Books. When she can, she prefers to park down at the other end of the street and not have to go by that eyesore of a bar in the first place, but when you double the size of the astronaut program with twenty female ascans, you turn street parking into a blood sport. On her salary, no way is she playing chicken with the corvettes, not even to avoid mustering a polite smile for a coworker at his inebriated worst.

Most days, that’s only an issue if she swings by after dark, the hour when everybody’s trickling out and stumbling home for the evening. Otherwise, the dingy whitewashed plywood keeps a nice impenetrable wall between book-seeking passers-by and drunken test pilots. Today, however, a spell of perfect weather is conspiring against her. Someone has the door propped open with a rusty paint can, letting the sound of laughter of clinking glass spill through it onto the sidewalk.

A flash of green catches Margo’s eye before she can make it past. Despite herself, she recognizes that shade in an instant. It’s the flannel shirt she had to reprimand earlier that afternoon for bringing a lit cigarette into the sim. Molly Cobb, bent over a pool table, chin twisted up towards Patty Doyle, grinning like a woman about to win.

Just Margo’s luck that this is the perfect time of day—indoor light matching outdoor light—for Molly to catch her eye straight through the open door as she makes her shot. 8-ball, dead in the pocket.

For no reason she can think of, Margo feels heat rushing up into her cheeks.

She stalks into Bargain Books in a hurry.

The sweater-vested owner behind the front desk gives her the polite nod reserved for a good customer (and disinterested conversationalist) as she beelines for Paperback Fiction. She finished Matheson’s Ride the Nightmare last night— should have picked up two when she noticed how short it was in the first place, but nothing else tickled her fancy when she was in here a week ago, so here she is again, browsing spines. Maybe it's time to cave and finally grab a 10¢ copy of Rosemary's Baby from the stack on the end, seeing as it’s the one highly recommended title in her genre-of-choice the entire country seems to have read in the last couple years, but she already knows the ending (and the entire premise of demonic pregnancy does not appeal for tuning out after the work day).

She’s dubiously eying the back-cover blurb on a Chandler detective thriller instead when a voice over her shoulder says, “Oh, Patty loves this shit.”

To her great chagrin, Margo jumps, gasps, and drops her book. “Jesus, Molly.”

“My bad.”

Molly squats down to pick it up, slouchy brown corduroy flexing over her thighs. She fixes a bend in the cover before offering it back to her, but when Margo tries to take it away, Molly doesn’t let go. Instead, she adopts a playfully quirked brow and tugs it back towards herself inch-by-inch, bringing Margo, frowning, a step closer than she was before. “Came here to see if I could talk you into a drink.”

Margo’s voice comes out approximately four steps too high as she looks around for some explanatory audience and says incredulously, “In there?” with a jerk of her thumb towards the Outpost’s adjoining wall.

“Yeah. NASA central, shithole though it may be, but I never see you around.”

“Well, I’m not an astronaut.”

“Neither are the five white-shirts who monopolize the best booth in the back six nights a week. They don’t check for a pin at the door, Madison. That’d be no way to run a business. It’s a bar. Come have a drink with me.”

“With… you.” She asks because she expects there to be an and. Me and the other ascans. Me and the rest of you white-shirt types in the back. Me and Patty Doyle.

But Molly just raps the cover of The Lady in the Lake with her knuckles and says again, “With me.”

#margo x molly #thx anon!! be warned if you give me an excuse to say literally any words about this show im going to say them!!#whats that tumblr rule about like as long as you put a certain number of tags the next tags don't sort into search?#love to categorize things for myself dont necessarily need the entire fandom tag seeing my questionable 4am fic offerings #is it five tags is that enough?#for all mankind #molly cobb #margo madison #the notebook fic probably mostly wont see the light of day bc its a lot of just going absolutely overkill #writing single protracted conversations about every event that made me mildly insane through the entire show #which does not come together well into something that actually Goes Anywhere or god forbid Actually Ends #but yes lol i very very very much do have fic

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moonhuit · 11 days

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having totally sane thoughts about how probably soon as margo knew about molly's predicament she sped up the process of things becoming more accessible and inclusive in jsc.

#margo madison #molly cobb #margo x molly #for all mankind #who is going to corner molly into getting the braille lessons? ofc itll take both margo AND wayne's collective energy to get her to go #molly cobb patron saint of in denial baby girl

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midnight-els · 4 months

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I have been BUSY at the fic factory the past couple of weeks. This one, written for @sparkleplatypuswriter at their suggestion, was a joy and a challenge to write, and I'm pretty pleased with it.

where the spirit meets the bone (5205 words) by elselsels Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: For All Mankind (TV 2019) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Molly Cobb/Margo Madison Characters: Molly Cobb, Margo Madison Additional Tags: feelings and sex ft. margo's fold out office bed, Established Relationship, Post-Season/Series 02 Summary: Molly tells Margo about her glaucoma.

#there's also a new chapter of the margo/sergei hallmark movie AU and my still secret MFMM exchange one out #as I said I've been BUSY #enjoy #for all mankind #my fic #margo x molly #margo madison #molly cobb

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airesgay · 2 years

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Freefall

Fandom: For All Mankind

Relationship: Molly Cobb/Margo Madison

Summary: Margo finally lets herself have what she wants - with a little encouragement.

Word Count: 3,108

read it on ao3

‘I’m gay, and I have been since the day I was born.’

Amongst everything that was going on, all the shit that made it feel like multiple worlds were burning down around her, Margo allowed herself a smile. She owed it to her friend, to take this moment away from it all, to bask in what she’d done - had the bravery to do.

She thought about the ridiculousness of the situation, that with disaster unfolding on a planet that had captured the world’s imaginations for the past decade, a spotlight could still shine on this moment: something as simple as somebody saying who they are.

But Margo knew nothing was ever that simple. Not in the world they lived in.

Margo had always had an inkling about Ellen; they all had, she thought. It was something unspoken between them; in the way that after a month or so of knowing one another people stopped asking her about guys, if she had any dates lined up, who the worst man she’d been out with was, how best to let one know they were not in the mood tonight thank you. In hindsight, the fact that most of women’s conversations around men ran along these lines was incredibly depressing.

Still, it didn’t take long for them to figure it out. People stopped asking, Ellen didn’t divulge anything, and that was that. End of story. Margo never even thought of the concept of offering her support, a simple ‘hey, we see you, we’re with you.’ It wasn’t like she had a problem with it; she was sure none of the other women did either. It just… wasn’t done. That subject wasn��t something to be broached. Politely ignoring the fact was the equivalent of offering support back then. But that was twenty years ago, when Ellen was a non-assuming, rather awkward astronaut candidate - AssCan so they called it - and Margo was trying her best to step out of her mentor’s shadow. Now here she was, head of NASA and watching Ellen Waverly – Wilson, President of the United States - coming out to the entire world. In hindsight, Margo felt bad now for once thinking she wouldn’t have made it through her first week of training. She’d just been so nice - too nice she’d thought - to make it through the hardships she knew faced a woman in that field. Turns out she was made of sterner stuff than she’d realised.

Ellen had said she’d been gay since the day she was born. Margo knew that was true with anyone, in the sense that it was something predestined, something that wasn’t a choice. Sometimes people knew that about themselves all along, like Ellen. Sometimes people questioned, having a feeling that there was something… different about them.

Sometimes it took something else, crashing into your life and turning everything you thought you knew upside down. Like a force of nature.

Margo reached for her bag before she could talk herself out of it.

“Emma,” she raised her voice towards the desk in the hall, “Get me a car.”

* * *

Knock knock.

No answer.

Knock knock.

No answer.

After four knocks spaced out between approximately two seconds, Margo decided it was most probable that nobody was home, and swiftly swerved to make a run for it. She was halfway down the stairwell when a creak sounded behind her.

“What is this ding dong ditch? You know they give old blind bats like me canes? Found a lot more uses for it than just getting to the can.”

Silence.

A crease formed between Molly’s brows, that trademark curiosity surfacing.

“Now I know there’s at least a dozen more steps to get out of this shit hole, and I don’t hear them being stepped on.” She paused, head cocking to one side. “So either you’ve flung yourself to the bottom in a Hail Mary to escape my wrath… Or you’re still standing there. God knows why.”

Margo hadn’t moved an inch, the shock of seeing Molly again frozen her in place. She’d wanted to fling herself to the bottom of the stairs - her fight or flight response near demanded it. She didn’t want to face Molly now she was standing opposite her. This had been a mistake. But still she couldn’t make her body move. With Molly no longer speaking the only thing she could hear was the labor of her breathing, and the pounding of her heart. She wouldn’t be surprised if Molly could hear it too. Her eyes were glassy, even more so than the last time she’d seen her she thought. Maybe that was just her imagination. But it had been three years. A lot could change in that time. A lot had - none of it good, Margo added as an afterthought. One thing that always struck Margo, and did especially now, was the spark that still glinted in Molly’s eyes beneath the glass. Nothing could crush that. Margo had doubted the fire in Ellen all those years ago. There had never been any question about Molly Cobb’s.

“So, Queen of Darkness. One sugar or two, I can never remember?”

Margo balked. “How did you - ”

Molly smirked. “I’d know that heavy breathing anywhere.”

Margo flushed, although she was glad she hadn’t said something else, like that she’d memorized the rhythm of her heartbeat.

“Now come on in. You look mighty shifty standing there – or so I can imagine. Don’t want people thinking you’re my dealer do you?”

Margo rolled her eyes, but made her way towards the doorway.

“I take my coffee black,” she said, terse as she walked past her and into the apartment, “Which you know fine well.”

Molly smirked again, eyes sparkling. “Oh how I missed that voice.”

Margo had been inside Molly’s apartment a handful of times over the years, none of which were social occasions. All had been to haul her ass back to work after she’d 1. Stormed out in protest or 2. Assigned herself a sick day. Every time she’d called her inside where she’d found her either 1. Smoking an unnamed substance in front of the TV or 2. Smoking an unnamed substance in the bath. The latter had ignited a terrifying mix of horror and something Margo hadn’t been at all ready to confront.

That was until now.

The apartment hadn’t changed much over the years. It seemed that nothing had left, only more things acquired - the main addition of which appeared to be an array of easels, denoting…. Varying qualities of art.

“Oh, these are…” Margo searched for the right words as her hand motioned over one particular piece. She could only describe it as a mangled spider mixed with a black hole – which was space focused at least. Seeing as nobody had yet captured a clear image of one, she couldn’t argue that Molly’s rendition was inaccurate.

She could feel Molly staring – well, listening. Whatever it was, she felt observed, in a way that made her skin prickle. Molly remained to be the only one who could elicit such a response from her.

“Shit?” Molly offered.

Margo frowned, spinning around to face her. Molly was already in the kitchen, tucked away in the corner of the room. She felt her way along the cabinets until she reached the one she wanted. Margo continued to frown.

Molly laughed. “The paintings? You’re not much of an art critic huh?”

“Oh,” Margo murmured. She’d lost herself for a minute there. Time always seemed to have this sneaky way of shifting when she was in Molly’s orbit - like she herself was a black hole that never failed to draw her in.

“No, I mean, this one…” Margo drifted among the paintings, desperately searching for one she could say something positive about.

“Oh!” she reached out for one that caught her eye. It was still unclear what it was actually meant to convey, still very much an abstract piece, but the colours complemented each other in a way the others hadn’t.

“I love this,” she declared, relief in the truth of her compliment, “The blues and the oranges contrast real nice.”

Molly smirked as she set down two mugs on the counter. “That one’s Wayne’s.”

Margo deflated, dropping her hand from above the painting. Wayne. She’d forgotten about him. The spontaneous decision that had led her to this very moment was proving more ludicrous by the second.

A palpable silence between them filled the air then, the only sounds the clinking of mugs and bubbling of the kettle. Margo wanted to ask the obvious question: why Molly painted when she couldn’t see the process or the final outcome. Margo wasn’t an artist herself, but she could imagine reveling in the finished piece was part of the lure. Not to mention…. How to paint. She wanted to ask her why she didn’t take up something else instead, a hobby that didn’t mainly rely on sight. Maybe something like the piano. Margo could teach her. No, she halted that thought before it could go further; Margo wasn’t a patient teacher and she knew for a fact that Molly was a terrible student.

She wanted to say all of these things, thoughts spiralling on top of each other around her head, but none of them would leave her mouth. She was so wrapped up in her inner monologue that she didn’t notice the presence beside her on the couch until it was near licking her face. Margo sputtered, recoiling from the furry mass. She yanked off her glasses which had fogged up with warm stinking breath. She blinked as her eyes readjusted, the scruffy shape of Molly’s dog taking form. Molly’s guide dog. Ollie. Well, Molly had wanted to call him Ed, but after some miscommunication in the office and a growing hostile work environment, Ollie it became. Ed was relieved, though still held a grudge. The dog itself was just about as far from the classic idea of a guide dog as it could be. But it fit Molly perfectly.

“Was he hiding?” Molly spoke up, suddenly in front of her and placing two steaming mugs of coffee on the table. She smiled. “I hear he’s good at that.”

Margo huffed out something akin to a laugh. She reached forward for the mug closest to her, and blinked at the design on it: an aggressively yellow sun cartoon denoting a beaming smile with the words ‘you are my sunshine’ scrawled below. Margo wondered who could have gifted this mug to Molly ironically.

“Want another mug?” Molly asked, lips twitching into a smile as she settled into the space on the couch beside her. Ollie had leaped off, offering the seat to his owner and trotting off to his own bed in the corner.

Margo pursed her lips, resigning herself to the mockery and taking a tentative sip. She silently cursed as the delicious liquid passed her lips; Molly had always held a staggering ability to make the perfect coffee, and that clearly hadn’t changed through all these years. Something about that was comforting.

“So,” Molly began. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? You know you already fired me once right?”

Margo rolled her eyes, and she knew Molly could sense it by the way her eyes glinted, in what could only be described as glee. She waited patiently for Margo to answer, reaching forward for her own mug – one she’d stolen from NASA as a parting gift. But Margo didn’t know how to answer. The words she’d been so desperate to say as she rushed out of the office, and ran through in her head on the drive over, and whispered under her breath as she waited behind a closed door, words she’d felt she’d needed to part with more than anything, that had been festering inside her for 20 years, presented with the reality of Molly in person... they’d all been shoved back down to the deepest parts of herself, the places she hid everything too terrifying to look in the eye.

Margo felt more repressed than ever. And it wasn’t in Molly’s nature to miss an opportunity to call her out for it. But that’s exactly what she did right then, choosing instead to take a drawn out drink from her mug, and proceed to reach for the remote. Margo watched in stock silence, feeling like her limbs were made of iron rods as the TV set across from them flickered to life.

And there, standing tall at a podium denoting the presidential emblem, head tilted higher with more resolve than should be humanly possible in that moment, was Ellen Wilson – facing an onslaught of heinous questions and demands: ‘Why did you lie to us? You’ve deceived the American people. Do you feel no shame?’ None of it would be directed at the president of the united states if it were a man standing on that podium. A straight man. Though, Margo supposed, that was precisely the problem. And yet, she could see the twinge of a smile tugging at Ellen’s lip, as she glanced at Larry, and an acknowledgement passed between them. Of course. Margo had always suspected, like Ellen herself, just not let herself bring the thought to fruition. For both of their sakes. But here she was now. Ellen could have let Larry take the fall, and continue to live a lie. But she hadn’t chosen the easy way out. Margo presumed, by the look of relief simmering behind a loosely held face of resolve, that Ellen had reached a breaking point. She couldn’t lie anymore, couldn’t hide - for her own sake more than anything. Margo knew the feeling.

“Can’t believe she finally did it.”

Margo’s head snapped to the side, where Molly’s eyes were in the general direction of the TV screen, a smile on her face.

Margo could have pretended not to have known, like it would somehow distance herself from it all - but she was tired of lying.

Molly couldn’t get out her next words before she heard a sharp intake of breath, felt the couch dip and finally, finally felt Margo’s lips on hers. She smiled into the kiss as Margo pressed in closer, and Molly met her in the middle, pushing back against her, just as they always had; two opposing forces of equal strength, balanced, with nowhere for them to go but further into each other.

Margo broke away when she realised the lack of oxygen to her brain, only exacerbating the light-headedness.

“Well shit.”

Margo came back to herself, blinking her eyes open. Molly was faced towards her, signature smirk lighting up her face. Even though she knew she couldn’t see her she still felt… regarded, Molly’s eyes gracing over her face. A flush swept over Margo’s cheeks.

“Couldn’t bear to be upstaged, huh?” Molly quipped, though her voice had a softness to it that hadn’t existed before, almost breathless.

Margo rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I can compete with the President of the United States.”

Molly gave a thoughtful hum. “I don’t know about that.”

Margo wanted to lean in again, lest Molly see the blush that was threatening to grow even more. She was one second away from doing so when a horrible thought overtook, her stomach lurching. Molly frowned as she felt Margo retreat.

“Wayne,” was all Margo could choke out.

She was near horrified when Molly had the audacity to laugh.

“Molly,” Margo chided, like she’d made a crass comment at a meeting.

“Sorry.” Molly held her hands up, collecting herself. “It’s just funny how worried you are.”

“Is it?” Margo demanded, incredulous.

The amused look on Molly’s face only expanded, the creases at her eyes stretching. It made Margo’s heart tug; a reminder that, despite what seemed inevitable and honestly, against the laws of nature, Molly was still here.

“Yeah,” Molly went on, leaning back to rest her arm along the back of the couch, fingertips a hair away from Margo’s shoulder. The proximity felt so natural. Margo tried her best to focus on Molly’s words.

“Wayne and I have an understanding.”

Margo blinked. “An understanding? What the hell does that mean?”

Molly grinned. “We love each other, that doesn’t change. But we’ve realised that, over the years, given everything - ” She gave a gruff laugh at that, one Margo tried to ignore. “Our needs have… adjusted. And we’re not ones for fighting what’s right in front of us. We still live our lives together, are partners in sickness and in health – clearly.” A small smile tugged at Margo’s mouth despite herself. “But we also don’t hold each other back, from what we need. What we want.”

Margo’s stomach lurched again, this time with something else, hearing the way Molly’s tone had changed, like her words were focused entirely on her. Like a secret finally spoken.

“Wayne knew about you before I did, actually.”

Margo paled. “What?”

Molly, of course, only laughed – although she swore she saw the tinge of a blush across her cheeks as well. “Yeah,” Molly sighed, moving her hand to the back of her neck. “That wasn’t a fun conversation. You could say I…. fought the accusation.”

Despite how fast her heart was beating, Margo breathed out a laugh.

“I wasn’t happy at being called out. I mean, the idea that I was soft for Margo Queen of Darkness Madison?”

Margo’s smile stretched. “Soft?”

Molly groaned at that, head falling back over the couch. “God I thought I was gonna kill him that night.”

“I can imagine.”

Molly’s head lolled back forward, her body turning to face Margo’s again. “He was right though, about all of it. Hard as I tried, I just can’t shake you off Madison.”

Margo was tired of waiting then, of thinking and over-anaylsing every move she made. Who knew what would happen tomorrow, or hell, even in the next hour. All that she knew was that she wanted this, had for longer than she’d care to admit. And she wasn’t denying herself it any longer.

Molly made a surprised sound at the back of her throat as Margo surged forward, crushing her lips to her own and pushing further. She felt Molly’s back hit the couch as she dove in, but she didn’t stop – couldn’t if she tried now the dam had broken.

She felt weightless for the first time in her life. Was this that inexplicable feeling she’d heard every astronaut pass through her door try to explain for the past twenty years? She was untethered, the ground no longer beneath her feet, nothing to hold her down to this world and everything it expected of her.

Freefall.

She was finally free.

#for all mankind #margo madison #molly cobb #molly x margo #margo x molly #heeeeeey #I hope this breaks my writer's block we shall see #just really wanted to get this out there #a love letter to margo and molly <3 #fanfiction #fanfic #mine

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moocowmoocow · 4 months

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