#margo x molly

[aenslem]

Margo Madison & Molly Cobb FOR ALL MANKIND (2019– ) ⤷ 2.10 "The Grey"

[ddagent]

Finally, a side of you I like.

[hattersarts]

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

[elssbethtascioni]

salma deera, letters from medea

[moocowmoocow]

Obvs I don't go here, but a possible FAM prompt I thought of was Margo/Molly - lingering eye contact that goes from hostile to horny

Feel free to use it if you want, but no worries if not! It's pretty specific lol

Margo slammed the list of ASCAN Class of 1985 on her desk. She and Molly had talked in circles about this year’s crop of candidates. She had continually insisted that as the moon became less of the “Wild West” and more of a permanent base for research and preparation for the Mars mission, more ASCANs needed to be scientists.

Molly clearly disagreed. Two-thirds of the candidates were still test pilots and former fighter jet pilots. Before she knew it, she had left her office and made her way to Molly’s. Her face must have expressed her displeasure because the astronaut shooting the bull with Molly fled. “I see you got my list of ASCANs.”

“What the hell, Molly? We agreed - “

“No, we did not. You told me what you wanted and I, as the head of the Astronaut Office, made the correct decision.”

Margo scoffed as she crossed her arms in front of her. “We need more scientists as we get ready to launch for Mars!”

“Yes. On the ground. What we need in space are people with the smarts to know what risks lay in the path to Mars and the balls to take them!” With that, Molly tried to get past Margo to leave her office.

Margo reached out and grabbed Molly’s arm and pulled. “We’re not done here.” She tugged Molly until her back was to the wall. “We still have to - “

“Margo. You seem to forget that while you run almost everything in NASA, I’m still the one who decides who goes up and when.”

Margo was so sick of that phrase. But as of right now, she had no argument against it. And she fucking hated it.

“If you excuse me - “

“No.” Margo reached out and held Molly’s shoulder against the wall.

“What you gonna do? Either take a swing or give me a kiss or let me leave, Margo.”

Margo stood there, dumbstruck. There were very few people in the world that could render her speechless and Molly Cobb was top of the list. She gritted her teeth.

Then Molly moved closer to her while licking her lips. Margo’s brain froze. She wasn’t really going to, was she? But she’d be damned if she took a step backwards. Molly stopped centimeters from her lips touching Margo’s. “Look, you can explain to Bradford why I’m late or you can move.”

Margo stepped back and threw her hands up. “Fine. But this is far from done.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” Molly called over her shoulder as she left.

[thefrakkintrinity15]

I miss them so much 🥲

[tiltedsyllogism]

In which Molly gets into a drinking contest at the Outpost and encounters some unexpected competition.

[thegirlsinthecity]

Wayne 🤝 Molly 🤝 Margo 🤝 Sergei

They both have two hands

[cicada-circuitry]

#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.”

[sparkleplatypuswriter]

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.

[moonhuit]

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.

[aenslem]

Prime Crew FOR ALL MANKIND (2019– )

[midnight-els]

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.

[daerienn]

so are we just going to ignore this?

[moocowmoocow]

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.

[tiltedsyllogism]

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:

----

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?”