#willhannes

[obsessive-evie]

they’re so UGH OMG

[infinityinakiss]

felt like sharing this

happy pride month bitches

[b1lezy]

𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠!

Pairing: Gabby Williams x Marine Johannès

Fandom: WNBA (Misc)

Content warning: mild language

a/n: no more. goodbye. see you next year. or never. bye. (im tired)

taglist: @marrymekatemartin, @wbbszn

dividers by @enchanthings-a, masterlist here

1. Sugar rush!...and crash — 2022 World cup qualifiers, February

Post qualifying rounds, the French national team were given a free day to wander around the city. Marine and Gabby, freshly together, decided to take the day as their own and run around.

Unfortunately, their ideas of "taking the day as their own" were very different.

Marine's expectations were low. Just walking around, maybe grabbing a coffee or pastry, and taking in the city.

Gabby's first stop of the day was a candy store.

"Mar, please?" Gabby pleaded, squeezing her girlfriend's hand.

"Fine. But you get one bag, you hear me?" Marine warned sternly.

"Yes!" Gabby cheered, running to the entrance and tugging Marine along. The blonde was 100% sure her warning fell on deaf ears.

Gabby stopped at every shelf, except the ones with milk candies.

She then proceeded to buy three bags, mixed with various types of candies, each bag stuffed to the brim and tethering on the edge of explosion.

"Gabby, my love, you are not eating all that candy." Marine sighed.

"I can and I will!" Gabby proclaimed, already shoving a handful of candy into her mouth.

"Oh gosh..." Marine muttered, walking beside her girlfriend, who was less walking and more skipping.

A half hour later, Gabby had officially gone rogue. She'd downed 1 and a half bags of candy before Marine was finally able to confiscate the remainder via threatening to not kiss the sugar-ridden woman. (It worked very efficiently. Marine filed that one away for later.)

And now, she was left with a "fully grown woman" who acted more like a 5 year old on steroids.

"Mari, Mari! Look, look, look!" Gabby pointed at somewhere far away, and when Marine turned to look, her cheek was met with a very slobbery kiss.

"Gabrielle Williams!" She shrieked, wiping the saliva off her cheek.

"Love you t—hey, don't wipe it off! That means you're wiping my kiss away!" Gabby pouted, two hands gripping onto Marine's free arm while she practically leaped.

"Here, have some love." Marine leaned in like she was going to kiss Gabby, and just as she was about to make contact with the Storm player's cheek, she stuck her tongue out.

Gabby jumped back, repeatedly yelling 'ew' while swiping at her cheek. Marine giggled to herself, taking her phone out to snap a photo of the younger woman.

"Karma!" Marine giggled again, pleased.

"I'll show you karma." Gabby muttered. Before Marine could even respond, Gabby's hands were all over her, tickling her sides until she was heaving with laughter.

"You're...evil." Marine panted as they resumed their walk to their lunch spot. "And you aren't getting your candy back."

"But why?" Gabby pouted once more, dragging the 'why' out and not stopping until she ran out of air.

Marine didn't answer, opting to give her pointed stare. Gabby was bouncing on the balls of her feet with every step, hands unable to stay still.

"...Fine." Gabby sighed, sulking next to Marine.

Marine thought that'd be the worse of it.

She was grossly mistaken.

2 hours later came the sugar crash. Gabby's eyes were droopy, her footsteps slowed and dragged across the ground, and she was clinging to Marine like she needed the blonde's help to stand.

"Gabs, are you okay?" Marine's brows furrowed, one hand flying to the younger girl's forehead.

"Probably just sugar crash," Gabby sounded exhausted as if she'd played a full 40 minute game, "I'll be alright."

"You wanna go back?" Gabby nodded against Marine's shoulder. "Okay."

By some miracle, Marine was able to call a cab to get them back to the hotel. Gabby fell asleep almost instantly, head against Marine's shoulder and their fingers intertwined between them.

The moment they reached their hotel room, Gabby crumpled onto the bed, pulling Marine with her.

"Someone's eager." Marine teased quietly, the smallest of smiles on her lips.

"Yeah, to sleep." Gabby mumbled quietly, hands tugging at Marine's sweater to pull her closer.

"C'mon, sleepyhead. Rest up until dinner. I've got you." Marine whispered, pulling Gabby onto her chest and kissing the top of her head.

2. Two sides of the same coin — August 2023, Seattle home game

Gabby wasn't known to be superstitious, never one with many pregame rituals, but the newest one had to be her favourite.

A quick, 5 minute phone call with Marine, who would wish her good luck and tell her she loved her.

Unless, like today, they played each other.

Marine still called, because of course she did, and Gabby still picked up, because of course she did.

"Mar!" Gabby dragged the 'r' out.

"Gabby." Marine smiled with soft amusement. Gabby glanced around the full locker room before grabbing an earbud and shoving it into her ear.

"Can you hear me?" Gabby switched the French because she had very nosy teammates.

"Yes." Marine laughed softly, French rolling off the native's tongue like it was breathing.

"You excited to play us today?" Gabby nodded, one hand out of frame and picking at the stitching of her jersey.

"We're gonna win though." Gabby smiled, but her voice stayed dead serious.

"No you aren't." Marine scoffed, "We're worlds better than you lot."

"No fucking way." Gabby's smile dropped. "We literally beat you guys so many times."

"And we won a championship last year, what's your point?" Marine said pointedly.

"You're going down. And so is your hoodie, because I'm stealing it after the game." Marine raised an eyebrow, moving the camera so her torso was in frame.

"What, you want to rep the Liberty now?" True to her word, the hoodie was a team issued one, "New York Liberty" printed proudly across Marine's chest.

Gabby rolled her eyes. "You know damn well I have, like, 5 New York shirts already. I almost accidentally wore one to practice the other day. Your fault, by the way."

"Hang on, no. It is absolutely not my fault that you stole half my team shirts. Do you have any idea how many times I had to go and ask for more? It reached a point where they just know and have an extra set laid out when I go to take it." Marine bit back.

"You take my shirts too! My national team jersey is missing, and if I'm correct, you wore it last for All-star." Gabby raised an eyebrow.

"...Guilty as charged." Marine admitted with a small smile. "Sorry, baby."

Gabby hesitated before sighing and grumbling, "You're evil."

Marine looked at her with those precious doe eyes Gabby never could say no to, "I have no idea what you mean." But the devious smile plastered on her face told another story.

"You're doing this on purpose!" Gabby yelled at her phone, not even noticing the concerned glances from confused teammates. "You're manipulating me so I go easy on you!"

Marine, on the other hand, giggled. "I don't know, am I?"

"You always do this!" Gabby groaned.

"Have fun being a sore loser, my love. See you on the court!" Marine winked at the camera before hanging up.

Gabby slumped into her seat, sighing.

"Trouble in paradise?" Ezi, who was next to her, poked her side.

"What? No. She's just being Marine." Gabby frowned.

"Really? You sounded pissed, though." Ezi shrugged.

"Did I?" Gabby furrowed her brows, lost in her own thoughts.

"Or maybe I just don't speak French." Ezi shrugged. Dom, who was in the corner of the room, giggled as she looked up.

"It wasn't serious at all. It was Gabby being mad 'cause Marine was smart and using her power over Gabby to her advantage. One of my moms is clearly smarter than the other." Dom explained, laughing.

"...And that was enough to make you yell?" Skylar raised an eyebrow from across Gabby. The interrogated woman raised her hands in defence.

"Listen, if your partner seduced you just so they'd have the advantage against you, you'd be mad too!" Gabby held her hands out as if to say, 'am I wrong?'.

"...Fair enough." Skylar shrugged.

Meanwhile, in the Liberty's locker room, Marine set her phone down with a satisfied sigh, still smiling.

"Still down bad, huh?" Breanna elbowed her side.

"Maybe a little." Marine admitted.

"So, what was that about? You looked ready to jump her bones through the screen." Natasha, ever loud and ever blunt, grinned from Breanna's other side. Marine groaned, burying her slowly reddening face in her hands.

"Just...being good at knowing my opponent's weaknesses." Stewie mumbled an 'oh' under her breath.

"And your opponent's weakness just so happens to be..." Tash trailed off, and Marine looked up with a small devious grin of her own.

"Me."

3. treason! — December 2023, France/Turkey

In the offseason, Gabby had picked up a new hobby: begging Marine to request a trade to Seattle.

Marine had also picked up a hobby of her own: refusing Gabby's pleas for her to request a trade to Seattle.

Gabby had just finished her second season with the Storm, and Marine finishing her own season with the Liberty. Marine had already told Gabby she wasn't planning on returning to the Liberty the next year so she could focus on the Olympics, and all Gabby heard was "I should recruit her to the Storm."

"Hi Gabs. You played good today." Marine smiled as the call connected, Gabby's fact lighting up the screen.

"Why thank you. I'm watching your game tomorrow as well." Gabby mirrored Marine's smile, eyes bright with childish glee (and heart eyes).

"I'm glad." Marine giggled, lying down on her stomach.

"You look so pretty." Gabby sighed dreamily, zoned in on Marine and Marine only.

"Thank you, sweetheart. You do too."

"You know where you'd look even prettier?" Marine groaned. So that's where she was going.

"Gabby—"

"In Seattle!" Gabby interrupted, smile widening into a pleased grin.

"Gabby, come on. I'm not even playing in the W next year, and after that I'll probably go back to New York."

"Or, you could come play with me in Seattle and we could cook all of them!" Gabby countered, frowning.

"My love, I can't just leave New York." Marine sighed.

"But why?" Gabby half whined half begged.

"Just—because!" Marine huffed, exasperated.

"So you have no real reason." Ah. Shit. Gabby caught her.

"Gabs, you know being on the same team as your partner can go terribly wrong." Marine said softly. "I don't want that to be us."

"But it won't be! We don't even fight!" Gabby flopped onto her bed from her side, voice muffled from the pillow beneath her.

"Because we're always so far apart that when we're together, we can't afford to fight." Marine watched as Gabby fell quiet, taking her words in.

"How about this?" Gabby perked up.

"If we win a medal at the Olympics, I'll consider it. But," Marine paused, "it's almost confirmed that I'll be reigned after the Olympics, so...2026. Deal?"

Gabby nodded furiously, a spark firing up behind her eyes.

"We'll win. I know it."

4. Gabby "loser lover girl" Williams — 2024, post-Paris Olympics

Gabby did not get "down bad".

Or at least, that's what she said before Marine Johannès waltzed into her life.

Because now?

Oh, she'd destroy entire solar systems for that woman.

The couple were staying at Marine's childhood home in Lisieux post-Olympics, because Marine missed her family and they had a few days where they were free to watch other sports before returning to their respective teams.

Marine's mom had tasked them with buying groceries, because they were almost out and, in her words, they needed to get out the house because they were being lazy. (They just won an Olympic medal.)

While they were shopping, Marine had innocently pointed at a really fancy stick of butter that was twice as expensive as the next most expensive one.

"That's the fancy butter," Marine explained as she grabbed not-fancy-butter and dropped it in the basket, "allegedly, something about how they churn it makes it taste amazing. I wouldn't know. It's too expensive for me to even want to buy it."

Sneakily, while Marine wasn't looking, Gabby swapped the sticks of butter. By some miracle, Marine didn't notice, not even when they checked out.

Gabby very quickly overtook paying, tapping her own card before Marine could even try. The blonde shot her an odd look, but said nothing.

It took her 3 days to notice.

She'd grabbed butter out of the fridge for her breakfast, pausing when she saw the brand name.

"Gabrielle Williams, get your ass down here now!" Marine yelled (wow she can do that?), voice echoing through the house. Marine's parents had left them alone for the day, and they'd taken advantage of that, spending the morning snuggled up.

Now? Marine was fuming.

Her fiancee scrambled down the stairs, rushing to stand next to her.

"Yes, Mari?"

"Don't 'Mari' me. You bought the fancy butter." Marine accused, brandishing the stick of butter like it was a sword.

"I...uh..." Gabby stammered, watching Marine's reaction carefully.

"We aren't supposed to get this kind." Marine said sternly.

"But—"

"No!"

"Mari!" Gabby groaned. "I just wanted to get you something nice. You never treat yourself, not even for something as small as butter. You deserve every nice thing and I'll give it to you every time because you're the most perfect woman on earth." Gabby said in one breath, grabbing Marine's hands.

"Gabs..." Marine whispered softly, every muscle on her face relaxing at once.

"Too much?" Gabby winced.

"Never." Marine promised, tiptoeing and kissing Gabby on the nose.

"Good. Now eat your breakfast, I have a date planned." The taller girl grinned.

"Gabby!" The girl in question sprinted away at Marine's tone, the blonde chasing after her, stick of butter still in hand.

5. The (not-so) evil Pazzi — 2025, All-star weekend

In bed after, by some miracle, making it out of the party by 12am, Marine and Gabby laid side by side in a room they definitely weren't supposed to be sharing.

Marine was reading some weird niche French literature book, and Gabby scrolled mindlessly on Twitter/X.

And it was quiet. And peaceful. Until Gabby burst out laughing.

Marine glanced over, looking at her giggly fiancee with amusement.

"Yes, my love? What's so funny?" Marine put her book to the side, one hand snaking over Gabby's stomach and resting on her side.

"They're calling me evil Azzi." Marine laughed a little. She had to admit, it was actually rather funny—

"And they're calling you evil Paige." Marine stopped laughing abruptly.

"What?" Gabby turned the phone so Marine could look.

"Bullshit." Marine immediately shot back. "I'm not evil. And I'm nothing like Paige."

"Y'all look pretty similar, actually." Gabby mused.

"Okay, and? Outside of that, we are completely different. We don't even have the same playing style." Marine argued.

"That's kinda what the 'evil' part is implying. Like, you look the same but are completely different." Gabby pointed out. She was...not wrong.

"But I'm not evil!" Marine tilted her head to look at Gabby properly. The corner of Gabby's mouth twitched, her dimple just barely peeking through.

"You're laughing!" Marine gasped, jumping backwards dramatically.

"It's just...really funny!" Gabby giggled.

"First of all, I'm not evil. Second of all, I've been in this fuck ass league longer! If anything, she's evil me."

"Baby, I love you so much, but Twitter doesn't care about seniority." Gabby said gently.

"Well, yeah but—!" Marine groaned, frustrated.

"And also, you're evil because your not-evil counterpart films TikToks with people. You just...say no and strut off." Gabby continued.

"What? I filmed that...TikTok thing with you before! That was even earlier than Stef! I still don't know why you said she won when you did by the way."

"Because she got you to dance, Mari. You don't do dancing. All you did in our TikTok was flip your ponytail and look pretty. Which you already do." Gabby sighed, exasperated. Then, before Marine could interrupt, she quickly added, "And it was 2 whole years ago. No one cares enough to scroll back 2 years."

"...Point taken." Marine grumbled, slumping onto Gabby's chest with defeat.

"It's okay pretty girl," Gabby pressed a kiss to the top of Marine's head, "at least we're evil together."

Marine smiled softly into Gabby's chest.

+1. The sweetest of them all — post-Paris Olympics, 2024

"You okay, kiddo?" Gabby jumped and turned, faced with Marine's dad.

"Uh...yup!" Gabby panicked, momentarily forgetting to respond in French, shoving the small velvet box into her pocket. He caught sight of the red colour and lit up.

"Is that the ring?" Gabby gulped and nodded.

"Show me." Gabby took the small box back out and carefully opened it up. Inside, a ring—the band carved to look like vines—sat safely between two cushions, a large princess cut diamond on top.

"Gabby..." He gasped quietly, reaching out to touch it, hand hovering over like he was scared to do so.

"Too much?" Gabby chuckled weakly. He shook his head.

"No such thing. She'll love it."

"I hope so." She sighed, shutting the box with a small 'snap!' sound. He stared at Gabby, who busied herself with making sure the box was secure in her pocket.

"You're a good kid, Gabrielle. Marine is lucky." He said quietly.

"I'm the lucky one." She replied without missing a beat, looking up with fierce determination burning in her eyes. He just chuckled, shaking his head.

"Relax. You're going to be my daughter soon. Might as well act it, huh?" He gave her a soft, reassuring smile, patting her on the shoulder before walking off. Typical dad stuff.

Meanwhile, Marine was lying on her bed groaning as her mom pulled out outfit after outfit.

"Mama, I love you, but I'm just going on a date. With Gabby. It's not that serious." Marine grumbled in French as her mom through a dress onto Marine's bed—right where she was laying.

"Hush. It's a special date. You just won a silver medal for France, after all." Her mom's voice took on that prideful lilt it always had when she talked about Marine's achievements.

"That's great and all, but it's really—"

"Aha!" Her mom's interrupted, holding up a half suit—a light, almost teddybear-like brown vest with matching pants, a white long-sleeved button down under the vest.

"Too much." Marine immediately shook her head.

"No such thing. Come on, Mari. You rarely dress up anymore, and you look beautiful in suits." Her mother coaxed.

"...Fine. But you curl my hair." Her mom smiled.

"Of course I will."

After Marine got changed and emerged from the bathroom, her mother, who was patiently waiting on the bed, lit up and softened all at once.

"Oh, Mar..." She spoke like Marine was something reverent, something worth caring for.

"Don't make it a big thing." Marine grumbled, but her lips curled into a small, almost shy smile as she held the hair curler up, "Help me out?"

Marine sat at her vanity chair, her mother plugging the hair curler in and watching Marine in the mirror as she waited for it to heat up.

"All grown up now, you are." Her mom said quietly, eyes flickering between Marine's reflection and her blonde hair as she carefully curled the ends.

"Been grown up for a while." Marine countered.

"Still. You're...a woman now. With a life of your own, a job, a home, Gabby." Marine didn't miss the way her mom's voice softened around the syllables of Gabby's name, "She's good to you. Good for you."

"I know." Marine stared at her mom in the reflection. The older woman held a quiet grace that Marine had adopted and made her own.

"She's so respectful, too." Her mom continued, "Listens obediently. Pays attention to you. Makes sure you're alright before checking if she herself is fine." Marine felt a wave of confusion rush over her at her mother's sudden sappiness.

"She's pretty great." Marine said instead, voice thrumming with an energy she only felt with Gabby.

"Be safe tonight, okay? Don't do stupid things." Her mom reminded as she finished the last of the curls.

"I never do." Marine turned to look at her mom when she heard the power switch turn off.

"My little Marine. Not so little now." Her mom sighed, an unnamed emotion shifting like the tide behind her irises.

"I'll always be here, you know." Marine said quietly, staring up at her mom. She stayed seated so her mother would still be taller than her; so she could feel like a child for a little longer.

"I know." Her mom laughed, a gentle glimmer of tears covering her eyes. She leaned down and kissed Marine on the top of her head.

"Mama..." Marine whispered softly. The wind outside whistled faintly, the fan thrumming above them. As the first of her mother's tears fell, Marine wiped them away carefully.

"I'll be okay. It's just a date." Marine chuckled—a warm, reassuring sound that resonated through the room.

"I know, I know. It's just weird to see you all grown up. You make an amazing woman, Marine." Her mother sniffled but smiled nonetheless.

Distantly, she heard Gabby call her name. She glanced back at her mom, worried, but the older woman waved her off with that kind smile. The same one she gave Marine when she fell while playing basketball, or when Marine had gotten a worse grade than usual. The one that said, "I'm right here, you'll be fine."

Marine stood, towering over her mother. She gave her a hug—not quick or rushed. A long, warm, tight hug. She sealed it with a kiss to her mother's temple.

"I love you." She whispered, and her mom just smiled and laughed.

"I love you too. Now go." She ushered Marine out the door.

In the living room, Marine was greeted with Gabby in a sea blue v-neck vest with nothing underneath, exposing the tattoos on her forearms and leaving her bellybutton peeking out. The bottoms were cargos, slung lazily on her hips. Her loose curls were pinned back, tucked near her ears and fanning out around her shoulders.

"Hi Mari." Gabby whispered, eyes shining with quiet pride. "God, I feel underdressed. You look perfect, like always." She laughed quietly as Marine stepped into her space, her head tilted to meet the forward's eyes.

"Blame my mother. Started throwing clothes at me." Marine giggled, tiptoeing to peck Gabby on the lips. "C'mon, let's go."

Lisieux was small, but they made do. Gabby drove with a concerning amount of confidence.

"Why do you know your way around? And where are we even going? There's nothing at this side except—"

"That abandoned chapel. I know." Gabby replied calmly. "And I know my way around. Have some faith in me."

Gabby parked right opposite the abandoned chapel, and Marine could faintly hear her whisper something indistinguishable to herself.

"Okay, so..." Gabby climbed out the car, bolting to the other side to open Marine's door for her, "I know this chapel is...decently significant to your youth." Marine snorted. That was one way to put it. Marine had her first kiss with a girl in that very chapel at the ripe age of 16, and then proceeded to get caught and sheepishly come out to her parents.

Gabby's hand slipped into Marine's. "But I figured if we were gonna do date night, I might as well make it extra special."

As they walked nearer, Marine could see light now—fake candles (because, as Gabby explained, real ones were too big of a fire hazard.) and rose petals lined a walkway to right behind the chapel where a picnic mat, covered in a mix of Gabby and Marine's favourite foods sat waiting for them.

"Gabrielle Williams, you crazy woman." Marine laughed, but she turned to Gabby and kissed her nonetheless.

"I had a little help." Gabby admitted. "But I've been running around the whole day making sure this wouldn't go wrong, so..."

"Congratulations, you did a great job. You planned something without it falling apart." Marine giggled, and Gabby gasped with mock offense, pausing in the middle of the walkway.

"Excuse you, I'm very good at planning things!"

"Just go sit down, Gabs." Gabby obediently did as Marine said, even as she grumbled the whole way.

They settled down, Marine glancing around at the food that was more or less surrounding them. A small bag of chouquettes—a bite-sized pastry Marine was obsessed with—some kind of chicken stew, various fruits—the works.

Gabby grabbed a bouquet next to her and smiled cheekily at Marine as she presented it. "For you, m'lady." Marine giggled like a lovesick teenager as she accepted the bouquet.

"Thank you." She leaned forward and kissed Gabby—gentle, the way they'd always been. The dark skinned girl lit up.

"Ooh, wait! Golden hour. Smile!" Gabby fumbled with her phone before taking a picture of Marine, her white-blonde hair turning amber beneath the sun.

"Your turn, pretty girl." Marine stuck her tongue out, taking her own phone out and snapping a photo of Gabby.

"How do I look?" Gabby cheesed, dimples popping.

"Beautiful." Marine grabbed Gabby's hand tenderly, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

Gabby's eyes fluttered, staring at Marine like a lost puppy who didn't know what to do.

Marine awkwardly patted the girl on her leg before grabbing a chouquette and tossing it into her mouth. Gabby mumbled something about teasing and dug into the food as well.

"So," Marine started, swallowing her second chouquette, "why the special date, huh?"

Gabby almost spat her water out. "Uh...no reason. Why? Do you know something? Do I know something? Am I supposed to know something?" Marine laughed.

"Breathe, Williams. I'm just teasing. You're acting very odd, though." She gave Gabby a strange look before shrugging.

They ate in a calmer silence after that, only interrupted by Gabby poking Marine and Marine flicking her forehead in response. When the food was mostly gone and the sun was beginning to take its leave, Gabby stood up.

Marine looked up, puzzled. "Where are you going?" Gabby didn't respond, just extended a hand out for Marine to take. The blonde did, letting herself be hauled up. "Gabby?" She tried again.

"So, I might've...sorta...kinda lied. There's more to this." Gabby scratched the back of her neck.

"Gabby, what...?" Marine stared at Gabby.

"Trust me?" Marine nodded wordlessly, and let Gabby pull her along.

They went into the chapel through the backdoor. Despite being abandoned, it wasn't in terrible condition. The stained glass windows that lined the walls let a gentle, colourful glow in. The pews were coated in a layer of dust, similar to the carving of the cross that sat proudly on the wall.

"Gabs, I don't—"

"Shh. Come on." Gabby ushered Marine towards a staircase that led to a balcony facing the setting sun.

"Woah..." Marine's eyes went wide with wonder, "that's really pretty." Gabby beamed with pride next to her, "I know right?"

She felt Gabby shift next to her as she stayed fixated on the sky. A small tug on her arm called her attention, and she turned to look at Gabby.

Gabby, who was on one knee.

Gabby, who was smiling so widely it must've hurt.

Gabby, who was reaching into her pocket with one hand and holding Marine's hand with the other.

The blonde gasped. She could feel tears start to fill her eyes.

"Gabs..."

"Marine," Gabby's smile melted into something warmer, more reassuring, "Since the moment I met you, I knew that I was put here to love you." She squeezed Marine's hand.

"You criticised my French the day we met, then spent a week refusing to speak to me unless I spoke French. You puzzled me, but you never failed to make me feel loved." Marine laughed tearily.

"I would love nothing more than to be able to live forever with you, to be able to make a family with you, and to love you until my last breath. So," Gabby pulled her band back briefly to open the small box before going back to holding Marine's hand, "Marine Johannès, will you marry me?"

"Yes!" Marine laughed again,, tears falling feely as she moved both her hands to hold Gabby's face. She leaned down and kissed her—hard and long like she was pouring all her love into it.

She helped Gabby stand up, and in return, the younger woman helped her put on the ring. Marine stood there, admiring it under the sunlight, and Gabby watched her, eyes full of pride she couldn't put into words.

"You like it?" Gabby prompted softly, arms wrapping around Marine's waist.

"Love it." Marine giggled. "You idiot, this is perfect."

"Okay, good, 'cause I got really nervous when you asked if something was happening today, and I thought you knew but I couldn't give it away, so I just kinda—" Marine shut Gabby up with a kiss.

"Breathe." Marine soothed. "You did perfect." Gabby promptly started malfunctioning, frozen and flushed.

"And don't you worry your pretty little head," Marine continued, eyes sparkling with mischief, "It's your turn next."

navigation | wnba fics

[obsessive-evie]

FIRST MARINE SPOTTING 🚨🗣️

[b1lezy]

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐝

Pairing: Gabby Williams x Marine Johannès

Fandom: WNBA (Misc)

Content warning: mild language

a/n: its short, i know, but im still sick and barely managed to finish it. work with me here, alright?

taglist: @marrymekatemartin, @wbbszn

dividers by @enchanthings-a, masterlist here, flufftober/whumptober masterlist here

Contrary to po—oh, never mind. Contrary to absolutely nobody’s belief, Gabby really liked off-seasons. I mean, what was there to hate?

She got to be with her girlfriend in New York, because despite Marine being more “quiet”, they enjoyed the city chaos. They could hold hands and walk down the streets and go to a coffee and bagel place without a care in the world.

After both their respective teams lost in the first round of the playoffs, neither of them hesitated to figure out a way back to each other. There was no questioning it, it’d been too damn long since they’d been able to be in the same room with Gabby lying on Marine or vice versa.

And listen: if Gabby was considered a simp for flying out to New York the moment they were officially free for the season, then she was the proudest simp in the world.

Today, they were on their way to an animal shelter because Gabby wanted to, and Gabby was vibrating with excitement. No, literally. Her hands were shaking, her heels refused to stick to the ground as her leg bounced up and down.

This was something she’d been begging Marine for for months at this point. Happy wife, happy life, right?

“Gab, baby, breathe.” Marine laughed, a soft, sweet sound that echoed in Gabby’s head everyday like a ringtone. The blonde reached out a hand, resting it on Gabby’s thigh to stop her bouncing whilst her other hand steered on.

“Sorry. You know I love animals.” Marine just laughed again.

“I know.”

Before they went in, Marine grabbed both of Gabby’s hands. Despite Gabby trying to push past Marine’s grasp in a desperation to see animals, Marine held firm.

“Rules first. We are not getting a dog. We are not getting a cat. We aren’t getting any new animals. You have Halle.” Gabby nodded, not exactly listening, looking right past Marine and at the shelter. Marine rolled her eyes.

“Gabby! Écoutez-moi!” Marine snapped in her face, two fingers clicking as Gabby jumped back into focus, mildly sheepish.

“Sorry, ma chérie.” Gabby leaned forward to peck Marine in apology, and, well. Marine wasn’t that strong.

“C’mon, idiot. Let’s go.” Marine rolled her eyes, dragging Gabby along—an action that didn’t last long, because Gabby took her chance to start bolting, leaving Marine as the one in tow now.

“Hi! I made a booking under Marine?” Marine stepped forward, Gabby’s hand securely pressed against hers. The lady at the desk nodded, typing something into her computer.

“Sure. Layla will bring you to the back.” The lady gestured to a staff member nearby, who smiled at them.

“What are you guys looking for? New pet, foster?” The staff member, Layla, prompted.

“Just taking a look.” Marine cut in before Gabby could say anything, giving a pointed look to her fiancée.

“Sounds good! Any specific animals?” Marine looked at Gabby, gesturing for her to speak up.

“Cats? I like ‘em more than dogs anyways.” Gabby shrugged.

And the moment they stepped into the back of the shelter, Marine knew they were doomed.

“Rine! look!” Marine turned her head to where Gabby was pointing. A small, black kitten, barely bigger than Marine’s palm, was pawing at a kennel, meowing softly, barely audible from where they stood.

“That’s great, G.” Marine smiled tightly, on the border of grimacing.

“Can we hold her?” Gabby turned to the staff member bringing them around, who nodded with a smile, going to unlock the kennel.

“Gabby, you can’t bring her home.” Marine muttered under her breath, and Gabby just waved her off.

“It’ll be fine. I just wanna hold her.” And, yeah, they were done for.

The moment the kitten was placed in Gabby’s hands, the French-American gasped, immediately melting and cooing.

“What’s her name?” Gabby looked up at Layla, a small pout on her face.

“Her name is Zel.” Gabby looked straight (since when??) at Marine, eyes all soft and doggy-like, pout in full action.

“Gabby, baby, we can’t.” Marine sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“But, Rine! Look at her!” Oh look, now Zel was purring and mewling. Thanks a lot, tiny kitten.

“Gabby, no.” Marine tried to stay firm, but Gabby was not having it.

“Gabby, yes.” She countered, looking like an indignant 7 year old who got told she wasn’t allowed to keep her halloween candy.

“Gabby, how are we gonna care for two of them? You have Halle already. And we live in different states.” Marine pointed out, trying to stay logical even as this stupidly cute cat was looking up at her with shiny eyes and her fiancée was pleading with her with that hopeful edge to her voice.

“We’d figure it out! Please, M?” Damn it, screw Gabby Williams and her pretty brown eyes.

So, with a sigh, she turned to Layla.

“What’s the adoption process like?”

2 hours, 3 different signed documents and far too many explanations later, Zel was theirs.

“I can’t believe it!” Gabby would’ve probably been jumping up and down if not for the fact that she was holding Zel in a cradle.

“I know.” Marine replied dryly, unlocking the car.

“We’ll need to get her food. I don’t think kittens can eat actual cat food. What do kittens even eat? Milk?” Gabby scrunched up her nose as she rambled on. She climbed into the car, Marine doing the same.

“I have no idea. Shouldn’t you know? What did Halle Berry eat as a kitten?”

“Er…well, it was a while ago. I think it was milk. Oh my god, HB’s gonna have a friend! Rine, they’re gonna be friends!” Gabby was squealing, and Marine really did love her fiancée, but she did make it extremely difficult at times.

“Save the freak outs for when they meet. We need to go buy stuff for her now.”

It very quickly became clear that Gabby’s version of “essentials” was very different from Marine’s.

“Gabby, you don’t need to get her a scratching post. She’s 6 weeks old.”

“…But what if—?”

“No. Put it back.”

When they, by some miracle, made it out of the pet store and back home, Gabby was very, very hyper.

Halle Berry was roaming the living room (because of course Gabby brought her daughter to New York. She wasn't a monster, thank you very much.) and stopped moving the moment they walked in.

She stalked nearer, circling their feet, her tiny nose twitching as she tried to figure out what the hell was in that crate.

Zel’s tiny paw stuck through a grate, her meows becoming more insistent.

“Yes, Zel. We’ll let you out. Rine, hold on to HB, make sure she doesn’t, like, jump Zel.” Marine nodded, bending down to pick Halle Berry up, even though she was met by protests—or, in cat terms, incessant meowing.

“Yes, HB, I know.” Marine grumbled, holding the cat close to her chest, stroking her fur with careful fingers. Meanwhile, Gabby busied herself with Zel’s crate, placing it on the ground to undo the clasp.

“Got it!” Gabby said, satisfied as the tiny door swung open. Zel, who was still clinging onto said door, swung out along with it, yelping as she went. When the door swung as far as its hinges allowed it, she fell to the ground. Very graceful.

Gabby scooped the tiny kitten up, cooing as she went. HB was scowling. Gabby moved towards Marine, holding Zel close enough to Halle Berry that she could sniff the newest addition and vice versa.

Zel was the first to react, trying to squirm out of Gabby’s arms, tiny paws reaching out towards Halle. If Gabby wasn’t a pile of mush before, she certainly was now.

“You wanna set them down?” Marine prompted. Gabby nodded, the two of them kneeling in sync to place the balls of fur on the ground.

Zel was considerably more daring than Halle, circling the older cat and then attempting to jump on top of her. Halle just ducked to the side, looking at Zel with those bright, observant eyes that made Gabby fall in love with her in the first place.

Speaking of Gabby, the French-American player had taken out her phone and started filming.

“Gabby, bebe, are you…crying?” Marine looked at her fiancée with disbelief.

“What? No.” Gabby sniffled, swiping a tear away, still recording the two cats.

“Oh, ma chérie.” Marine laughed, leaning over to kiss Gabby’s cheek.

“How are you not crying? Look at them!” Gabby countered indignantly. And she wasn’t wrong, Marine supposed. Halle had curled into a ball at some point, Zel now laying tucked in her side. It was cute.

“Touché.” Marine conceded. “You’re still dramatic, though.”

”Yeah, but I’m your dramatic.” Gabby turned to Marine, eyes still shining with tears, dimples popping and lips curved into a smile.

“Yeah,” Marine sighed, “you are.”

[b1lezy]

𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

Pairing: Gabby Williams x Marine Johannès

Fandom: WNBA (Misc)

Content warning: mild language

a/n: no more for a month after this /j but seriously might go on hiatus for a bit while im in japan. ALSO, FOR THE SAKE OF THE PLOT, NAZIS ARENT REAL. THIS WILL MAKE SENSE I PROMISE.

taglist: @marrymekatemartin, @wbbszn

dividers by @enchanthings-a, masterlist here

A word from the archivist:

The following is a series of letters between Miss Gabby Williams and Miss Marine Johannès. By some miracle, I managed to dig these out from various locations. Most, if not all, of Miss Williams’ letters were stored safely in the National Archives, but Miss Johannès’ letters was much more difficult to track down. I have a mostly complete collection, I believe, bar a few letters that were lost to time or too damaged to transcribe. Miss Williams lived from 1896 until 1973, when she tragically passed away due to unknown causes. Before then, however, she exchanged letters with Miss Johannès, who was believed to have lived in France at the time. Miss Johannès lived from 1895 until 1975, and passed away from old age. Miss Williams was an inspiration to many female authors at the time, including Miss Johannès. While education for women—especially women of colour—was no longer uncommon, most women still ended up as housewives. Miss Williams was the exception to this, being vocal on her education from a young age. She would then go on to publish 8 books—half of which were French—and hundreds of essays in her lifetime. As for Miss Johannès, not much is known about her childhood. Most records of her life were either spoken or in one of her own 6 books, none of which had a plethora of information. While both of their lives have been documented separately, much of their time together has been hidden from public view for many years, due to controversy surrounding relationships like theirs. This is also the reason many letters are illegible, some blacked out by ink and others burned. All letters, bar the first one, were written in a mix of French and English. All French has since been translated.

From: M. Johannès, Lisieux, France 17th May, 1921

Dear Miss Williams,

Before I continue with this letter, I would like to preface this with: my English is not the strongest, so I apologise for any errors I make.

While I am certain you will have absolutely no idea who I am, I have every idea who you are. That is to say, I read your latest book, “A Starlit Explosion” around a month ago, and I have re-read it around half a dozen times since.

I don’t think I’ve been this hung up on a book since I was a child.

After reading it, I ended up working my way through your other two books, “Find me in the In-Between” and “A ship without a sail” fairly quickly. I read both within the span of two weeks, sometimes missing meals when I was too engrossed in the story.

Your way with words is enough to prompt oneself to write.

Beyond that, I want to tell you how great of an inspiration you are. You are nothing short of extraordinary, and you have managed to impact me, even if my English has never been perfect and my writing worse than that.

While you currently remain unaware of my identity, I hope that, someday, you will see my name on bookshelves and my face on flyers. My dream has always been to become an author, to create art just as much as I consume it, and my first novella, “Au Clair de la Lune” will be published in a few months. I’ve included the first 3 chapters in this letter for you to read, all translated to English. I do hope you'll enjoy it.

Note: "Au Clair de la Lune" or "Under the Moonlight" is Miss Johannès' first book, and is amongst one of her more popular novels. Much later on, it was used as inspiration for a French children's folk song.

If you’ve made it this far, past my not so coherent thoughts, I do applaud and thank you. You don’t need to write me back, I’m sure you have more important things to do.

Yours sincerely,

M. Johannès

From: Gabby Williams, Seattle, United States 30th May, 1921

Dear Miss Johannès,

I’ve never been great with writing letters, but yours was too sweet to not reply to. In fact, I rarely read letters, but your postal stamp was very…different. I was tempted.

Your English may be better than mine. But Je parle français, tu sais. C'est pourquoi mes livres n'existent qu'en versions anglaise et française.

Note: Here, Gabby says, “I can speak French, you know. That’s why there are only English and French versions of my books.”

Either way, skipping meals to read is an unhealthy habit. Though I do suppose it would be a bit rude of me to criticise you for it when I do the same.

You flatter me greatly in saying that I’m an inspiration. I’m merely a 26 year old trying to make a living, though I’m not opposed to your take on things.

I’d barely skimmed through the first chapter when I decided to respond. If you are willing, I would much prefer to read it in French, for I am sure there are many nuances I’m missing in English.

That said, the first chapter is phenomenal. I can already tell that you are an incredible author, and I can only assume you are a dozen times better in French.

As you have shared part of your manuscript with me, I figured it's only right I share some of my own works with you. Included is part of the original draft for “A Sttarlit Explosion”, as well as the first chapter of my next book, “Au revoir, petit oiseau”, both of which are signed. I do hope you won’t be too harsh of a critic. It is, after all, my first time writing in French.

Note: “Au revoir, petit oiseau” or “Goodbye, little birdie” spoke on Miss Williams’ relationship with one of her mentors, Sue Bird, who had retired the following year. It ended up being one of Miss Williams’ most popular stories.

If you know when your novella is releasing, do let me know. I’d love to buy a copy or two myself.

Bien à vous, 

G. Williams

Note from the archivist:

Most of the letter, after the first paragraph, was written in English. For your convenience, I have found translations and scribed those instead. All letters after this are written in French, and have also been translated, bar a few parts.

From: M. Johannès, Lisieux, France 15th June, 1921

Dear Miss Williams,

Similar to my English skills, your letter-replying isn’t half bad. I am flattered, similar to you, that I could serve as a source of temptation. While people have used many words to describe me, tempting has never been one of them.

I didn’t know you spoke French, though. How did you learn it, if you don’t mind me asking?

I’ve included a first copy of “Au Clair de la Lune”, in French this time. I hope it lives up to your expectations. It was very kind of you to share your work with me, nonetheless a French story. Sue sounds like a delightful woman, based on your descriptions of her.

My novella will release in September in France, and November for the states. You don’t have to buy it—there really isn’t a point in getting more than one copy.

My mother recently visited me, and she was quick to find our letters. She can’t read English, but I have never seen the woman so delighted. I was a rather lonely child growing up, mostly by choice, so she was more than a little pleased to see I wasn’t rotting away.

I do think she worries for me, but she is proud nonetheless.

Perhaps this is too forward of me, and I am truly sweating as I write these words out, but if you are to ever come to France, please do tell me. Similar to my mother, I’d be more than a little pleased to see you.

Lisieux is beautiful, if not a little boring for most tourists. I’d be happy to show you around either way. I’ll make it worth your time.

With (a little too much) love,

M. Johannès

From: G. Williams, Seattle, United States 9th July, 1921

Dear Miss Johannès,

I’m writing this letter in French for your sake, but if I’m being honest, I’m rather rusty, so I beg your forgiveness if I make any mistakes.

I also apologise for taking a rather long time to respond. I wanted to finish reading your manuscript before I responded, and I will admit I got sidetracked multiple times. I have been cursed with a horrid attention span, unfortunately, and it being in French wasn’t the easiest either.

I grew up with my grandmother, who came from France. She preferred French and taught me the language. She’d refuse to talk to me in anything except French. I still can't pass as a native, though.

I would be a liar if I said I haven’t already gone around to various bookstores asking if they knew when your book would be out. I’ve reserved several copies in several stores already. And no, you telling me not to get more copies will not deter me. I was born being stubborn, after all.

Similar to your mother, Sue was rather delighted to find out I was exchanging letters with you. She and her roommate, Megan, came over to give me food and found me reading your letter. I got teased to death for hours.

I will admit, though—I wasn’t exactly displeased by it.

I do have plans to visit France, either in August of this year or early next year, depending on my schedule. Honestly, Lisieux wasn’t a city of my consideration, but now that you’ve brought it up, I’ll be sure to drop by when I do go.

Meeting you wouldn’t hurt either.

Booking tickets for the ship has been a nightmare, though. I’ve been at the ticketing office every other day trying to find something that’s within my budget.

With love (and an idiotic smile on my face as I write this),

G. Williams

p.s. I know you didn’t tell me it, but on my hunt for your book, I found your name. Marine suits you. Or, at least, the version I’ve read of in your letters.

From: M. Johannès, Lisieux, France 18th July, 1921

Dear Gabby (I do suppose I can call you this, now that you know my first name),

I’ve managed to get you a ticket (assuming you don’t have one) to France on the 15th of August. (I had to allow a buffer time to make sure you’d get this letter before the date, so I’m playing it safe.) I’ve heard it’s cheaper and easier to do so from France. The tickets are in the other envelope. If this is too hasty, I do apologise.

Your French isn’t terrible. You exaggerate greatly. Or, at the very least, your writing skills are decent. Your grandmother sounds like mine, except mine refused to do anything anyone asked of her.

It was entertaining until it wasn’t.

While I am glad you enjoyed the book, I really must say: you are something else, Miss Williams. I do thank you for reserving my book, but multiple locations is a bit much, don’t you think? (I know you said I can’t deter you, but it is worth a shot.)

Sue really sounds like a wonderful woman, as does her roommate. I do hope you weren’t teased too relentlessly on my behalf, and I do hope it didn’t kill you either—I haven’t even met you yet.

If you do end up using the tickets, I do wish you a safe trip. Don’t worry about costs, by the way. If I’m making you sail across the seas for me, the least I could do is provide for you.

Always awaiting your next letter (and hopefully, you),

Marine

From: Miss G. Williams, Seattle, United States 30th July, 1921

Dear Marine,

As I write this letter, I am also packing for my trip to France. While I may seem calm, I am really freaking out on this end. I cannot thank you enough for this.

The moment I received your letter, I ran from my home all the way to Sue’s just to scream it in her face before running back home, where I am currently writing this letter. In hindsight, this wasn’t the wisest thing I’ve done. And no, I’m not exaggerating. I really wish I was, though.

I’ll keep this letter short, so as to make sure you receive it as quickly as possible, because you seem like the kind that’ll spiral if I don’t let you know I’m arriving.

I can’t wait to meet you, Marine. You seem like a kind woman, and I’d be delighted to even glance in your direction.

Counting every clock tick until I see you,

Gabby

Notes from the archivist:

I got to speak with Miss Johannès’ daughter, Irène, who was kind enough to share the following files with me, along with details that were erased from history. The following is a journal entry from Miss Johannès, recounting her time with Miss Williams. The entry was written in French and has since been translated.

Confidential: M. Johannès’ notebook

15th August 1921

Gabby’s ship departs today. I’ve found myself impulsively cleaning my entire apartment for the past 3 hours, moving things that don’t need to be moved, and now I’m writing this so my hands will have something to do.

I don’t really know what’ll happen when she’s here. Communicating with someone on a ship isn’t possible, after all, so I’ve been sitting here praying the seas grant her safe passage.

Honestly, I do have many questions for her, none of which are to do with her craft. There is something about her that tugs deep within me, and my inviting her was perhaps out of something more than admiration.

I am curious what she will make of me. I hope she doesn't feel overwhelmed by me, and that same intrigue she felt when she first talked to me persists.

MJ (signed in neat cursive, the J looping around to draw a small heart)

20th August 1921

Gabby arrived earlier today. It’s currently nearing midnight as I write this, and Gabby is sound asleep in my guest room, but I simply must put my thoughts onto paper or I’m afraid I’ll forget them.

She is…everything. Maybe more. I have never been so captivated by anyone. Just the way she talks, moves, laughs, all of it. She commands the space around her with a grace I didn't know existed.

Perhaps I am a little selfish and don’t want her to leave.

But Gabby…she was so kind. She hugged me when we first met, she smelled like hazelnut. She asked about my book, about my family, about me. She talks so enthusiastically, both about her craft and about the people she loves.

I hope one day I’ll be one of the people she loves.

She called me Mari, and immediately got flustered when I pointed it out. She spoke in French, even when I teased her terrible accent, when I told her I prefer it.

Maybe this is the love poets write of.

Mari (with a heart for the dotted ‘i’)

Notes from the archivist:

We see a lack of any documentation from this point until the 23rd of September, when the next letter was sent by Miss Johannès. A boat ticket from Lisieux to Seattle on the same day was found with Miss Williams’ name on it. It can also be noted that Miss Johannès’ book, “Au Clair de la Lune”, released on the 17th of September, 1921. Most historians will stop showing the letters at this point, as many find the open confessions of love to be “too much”. The following letters were significantly more difficult to trace down, as past archivists and historians have hidden them from public view. Miss Williams and Miss Johannès’ letters were courtesy of Rio, Miss Williams’ daughter, and of Irène respectively. Both privately told me they had been allowed to keep these letters as no museum or archive wanted them.

From: Miss M. Johannès, Lisieux, France 23rd September 1921

My dearest Gabs,

I know when you see the date at which I sent this letter out, you’ll laugh at my eagerness as you have a million times. I wish I was there to hear it for myself, but I’ll imagine it as many times as it takes for you to return.

You have been nothing but a delight to host, and I was glad to be given this chance to meet you, even if you did ask me to sign your copy of my book like I was some star.

I am, of course, devastated to see you go, but I am quietly proud of you from my little apartment. Your presence had filled my home with a warmth I’d never felt, and now, without you constantly next to me, pestering me, the whole world feels a little darker.

By the way, thank you for staying for my book release. It was a scary day, but having you next to me made it a little easier to breathe.

I know that when I look back on these letters the next time I see you again, I’ll think myself dramatic. So, for now, I’m going to stop my endless spiel on how much I love you.

Wishing you many successes, my sweet.

Missing your arms around me,

Mari (signed with a small heart next to it, drawn neatly)

p.s. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you took my perfume. You’re lucky I love you.

From: Miss G. Williams, Seattle, United States 30th September 1921

Mari,

I will be very honest with you, when I came home to find this letter already waiting for me in my mailbox, I was sure you must’ve sent it to me before I’d even reached France.

When I saw the date, I did laugh. Loud enough that my cat stared at me weird.

Meeting you was my pleasure, really. I have never been so glad to see someone, let alone stay with them for a month. You are one of the purest souls I have ever met.

And you absolutely are a star. If not the world’s, then mine. I would ask for your autograph in every lifetime, whether you were a random woman or the most famous person in the world.

Your support, however loud, means the world. I feel a little warmer inside knowing you care about me even on the other end of the earth.

I miss you too, you know. I miss how your breath always stuttered before you laughed, and how you never seemed to know what to do with your hands when I didn’t hold them. It feels so lonely without you.

I hope you never stop your spiel about how much you love me. I love that I’m the only one who gets to see this side of you.

This is…a little random, but I got a croissant today, the moment I stepped off the ship. It wasn’t as good as the ones you bought me. Or maybe I’m just biased.

With your wishes, I know I’ll succeed.

Impatiently waiting for the day I see you again,

Gabs (with a small heart scrawled next to it—much messier than Marine’s.)

p.s. Your perfume smells nice, I'm not sorry for taking it. And I’m aware than I’m lucky you love me.

Note from the archivist:

Miss Johannès’ daughter was unable to find any letter that followed this one. The next letter seemed to be responding to the missing one.

From: Miss G. Williams, Seattle, United States 17th October, 1921

My Mari,

I woke up this morning after dreaming of you. I’ve never felt so unsettled waking up, yearning for something I haven’t physically lost.

I told Halle about you, at your request. She didn’t have anything to say. She just kind of stared at me weirdly and meowed before hitting me with her paw. I don’t really know what to make of it, so do with that information as you will.

I’m never lying when I say you’re perfect. No matter how many flaws you claim to have, I promise I will only ever see it as perfection. Mari, you are a star. My star. And I will shout it from the rooftops until you understand. I wish that you’ll let me support you the same way you support me, because you are even greater than I am.

I bought carnations the other day. I don’t really know why you like them, but they make me think of you so I’ll keep them alive for as long as I can.

I feel weirdly compelled to tell you this, but I got a book on chickens the other day. It’s really interesting. I’ve spent the past two days holed up reading it. Sue was convinced I’d died.

I can’t wait to see you, my Mari. I can’t believe you’re coming here in a week. I’m not even sure if you’ll get this letter before you leave.

I love you. Safe trip, my sweet.

Foolishly yours,

Gabby (with tiny stars drawn all around)

p.s. tell your mom thank you for the bonnet. it kept my curls safe all night long.

Notes from the archivist:

Miss Johannès was in Seattle from 1st November 1921 until 6th November 1921. Afterwards, she, presumably with Miss Williams, travelled via train to New York, where the launch of Miss Johannès’ book in America was held. Archivists found passports stamped with the dates above, as well as train tickets that were tucked away neatly with these letters. The pair spent near to four months there, up until 28th February 1922, when they returned to Seattle. There are no records of Miss Johannès moving back to Lisieux, and with most assumed Miss Johannès moved in with Miss Williams around this time. They lived In Seattle together until 1923, when the pair moved back to Lisieux. This move seems to have been influenced by Miss Johannès’ mother falling ill. Her mother later passed in late 1923 due to pneumonia. Historians found 2 identical rings along with a marriage certificate in 1925. The certificate was not legal, as marriage between two women had been shunned at the time, but the rings appeared to be entirely legitimate. It can also be noted that Miss Williams sold her apartment in Seattle in 1927 while still staying with Miss Johannès. During the 5 years they lived together, both women wrote 2 novels each, with all 4 novels being some form of a love story. Miss Williams wrote a book titled "The Stars" during this time, and it tells the tale of two young women who fall in love. The book would not be released until Miss Williams passed. In 1928, Miss Williams met her husband, whom she later had a kid with. Miss Johannès met her husband a few months later, a friend of Miss Williams' husband, and went on to have a kid with him as well. The group of 4 would end up inseparable, commonly seen on double dates together. Mr James Elliot and Mr Robert Smith, Miss Williams and Miss Johannès' partners respectively, were university professors at the modern day Claude Bernard University in Lyon, specialising in sports science.  Miss Williams and Miss Johannès stayed together in Miss Johannès' apartment while Mr Elliot and Mr Smith stayed together in Lyon. This arrangement was formed out of convenience, and did not change until Mr Elliot and Mr Smith retired in 1952, both moving back to Lisieux to be with their wives. From 1928-1952, Miss Williams and Miss Johannès wrote a total of 7 books, with Miss Williams writing 4 and Miss Johannès writing 3. The most notable would be Miss Johannès' "To be seen", her first book that was written in English. The book is littered with fake notations written by a second person, who was later revealed to be Miss Williams, as a way of being seen. All 4 of them ended their careers in the same year, barring Miss Williams' "The Stars". Through retirement, the group were most often seen in Seattle, New York, Nevada, Paris, Lyon, and Lisieux. Mr Elliot was first to pass in 1972 at the age of 78. He passed away due to old age, similar to Mr Smith, who passed the same year at 79. Miss Williams passed in 1973 at 77 due to unknown causes. Most signs point to some kind of illness, though there are no medical records.  Miss Johannès, was the last to pass in 1975, dying of old age at 80. Below is the last will and testament of Miss Gabby Williams, followed by the last will and testament of Miss Marine Johannès.

THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF MISS GABBY WILLIAMS

1. 50% of my earnings are to be split between Miss Marine Johannès and my daughter, Miss Rio Elliot-Williams, evenly. The other 50% is to be donated to London Friend, the LGBTQ+ charity in the UK. 

2. My manuscript, The Star, is to be released the moment I have passed.

3. All my assets are to be handed down to Miss Marine Johannès. Should she have passed, the items are to be passed to Miss Rio Elliot-Williams.

4. All funeral proceedings are to be decided by Miss Marine Johannès and Miss Rio Elliot-Williams. 

THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF MISS MARINE JOHANNÈS

1. All my earnings and assets, including my estate, are to be given to Miss Irène Johannès-Smith. 

2. Any items I have received from Miss Gabby Williams are to be given to Miss Rio Elliot-Williams.

3. All my funeral proceedings are to be decided by Miss Irène Johannès-Smith.

Final word from the archivist: 

Hi. I started chronicling Miss Williams and Miss Johannès' stories back in 2019, when I first discovered their friendship. Now, after 6 long years, as I've gone through every one of their letters and every last scrap of them I could find, I've learned just how much more it was. While there has been a lot of speculation surrounding the pair's true relationship (as much of the above was hidden from public view), I do hope that their story is enough to inspire at least one kid out there who is too scared to love out loud. Their story is one that never deserved to be hidden, and I hope that, with all this compiled, it'll be a tale of love that is told through generations. If I'm honest, the day I first met Miss Johannès-Smith and Miss Elliot-Williams, I almost cried. They each showed me their parents' most prized possessions. I got to hold their wedding rings in my hand and trace their words with my fingertips. Miss Elliot-Williams admitted that she'd tried to tell the story herself and had even gone to multiple history museums with the rings, but none wanted them because it was, in their eyes, "too gay." The same homophobia and criticism Miss Williams and Miss Johannès faced in the past is not gone, and even after their passings, they are still shunned for it. Miss Elliot-Williams told me about the day Miss Williams died, and the day her final novel was released. She said she remembered people's disgusted faces, and how, in every bookstore she went to, the books were flipped around to hide Miss Williams' name.  But what she remembered most of all was walking past a gay bar and hearing loud cheers. When she walked in, all she saw was her mother's face, plastered on every surface. There, her death wasn't being scorned, but her life was being celebrated. "That is a legacy," She'd told me, firm in her stance. "It is changing something, anything, for the better. And in her case, releasing that book was a symbol of hope."

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dividers by @strangergraphics, last updated 17/2/2026