❛ All is fair in love and war ❜

ANDIE ANDERSON (easy to remember, right? what were my parents thinking) twenty something ✮ journalist ✮ new york city — i have a masters in journalism from Columbia, my boss l o v e s me, and if I do it her way for a while, I can write about whatever I want.

[futw]

Gina Rodriguez in Brooklyn Nine-Nine S05E22

[andiejournals]

benjaminasong:

She had a lump in her throat as she assessed the crowd, Benjamina wasn’t going to lie. Not because she wasn’t up for the challenge Speers and Green posed for her, no. She stood her ground, believed what she told them and their boss. She could make any women fall in love with her in no time. But there was a glint in her coworkers’ eyes that she did not like. And they were going to be the ones choosing her…

Prey? Victim? Subject?

Nothing fit, nothing covered what she was about to do, what she signed up, and she preferred not to use those terms anyway. They made it seem like she was getting ready to do something horrible when really, she was going to just pick up a woman to fall in love with her. Then again, some might say that is just as horrible as what those other words suggest.

Her coworkers were pointing and suggesting different women, some her type, some not, and she was hoping they would go for somebody at least somewhat good looking, somewhat who she would go for. Was it shallow to hope for this? Yes. Did she care? No. She wasn’t the long relationship type of person, so she usually went with looks, what appealed to her, what turned her on. If that was a sin, well she was going to Hell already, one more reason didn’t count.

Luck was on her side, however, because the final decision came down onto a beautiful girl with nice, long hair and really great ass, so she was not complaining at all. She thanked the ladies for the choice, told them she had work to do and headed over to the bar to approach the girl.

This might just be a fun 10 days after all.

Music was blasting loudly - Andie needed a few more drinks before her ears would be able to adjust to it; numbing the tips of her fingers and muffling her hearing. But right now, she was painfully aware of how sober she was; girls spilling drinks next to her, men bumping into her as they kissed, without even aware of their own bodies outside of lips on lips.

Still, she recognised the song, distorted by the extreme bass hitting her ears.

‘What I need, what I need, what I need…’ Hayley Kiyoko and Kehlani sang. Andie had heard this song before, she was sure of it. ‘Is for you to be sure.’  

Andie became aware of eyes upon her, from across the room. She waited, lingered - teased - knowing whoever it was would probably buy her a drink if she batted her eyelids just the right way. She probably should feel a sense of shame; that she was prepared to sell herself to some drunk girl, torture her for the next week, all for some frilly story on page nine. Still - Andie was doing the best with the hand she’d been dealt - and one day her boss was sure to repay her. Allow her to write about what actually fucking mattered.

So she looked across the room, through her heavy lashes, up at the woman looking directly back at her. The woman stood confidently, that’s the first thing Andie noticed. Her figure cut a lean shape between stumbling, dancing bodies around her. Her head was tilted to the side, long, caramel hair waving around her chiselled cheekbones and across her chest. She wasn’t alone: two other women were talking into her ear.

But her attention was only on Andie.

Andie ignored the rush of excitement that ran through her - this was nothing more than a job. She couldn’t invest real feelings.

‘… staring you right in the face, don’t look away no more…’

Almost like a silent agreement between the strangers, the woman sauntered toward Andie, and Andie felt herself, like a magnet, drawn forward, so they almost met in the middle.

“Hi.” Andie said, a playful smirk at her lips.

[andiejournals]

the bet

Andie was on the prowl. She looked across the room, crawling with people; women making out on the dance floor, friends laughing by the bar, men with their shirts off, shamelessly flirting with one another. It had been such a long time since she’d gone to a gay bar, if she weren’t on a mission, she’d gulp down a wet pussy shot and lose herself in the crowd. Unfortunately, it was all work and no play for Andie tonight. 

Her phone was lighting up in her hand - her friends checking in on her movements. After all, it was Michelle who got Andie into this mess to begin with. Just that morning she’d taken the bullet for her blubbering mess of a friend, promising their boss that she would write a compelling How To piece that would mean she’d have to go undercover. 

She had written plenty of articles on how to dress for your body type, how to get out of a police fine by flirting, how to lose twenty kilos in a week - but this was unchartered territory. Andie felt like Drew Barrymore in Never Been Kissed, almost having to create a whole new identity to catch, and then lose, a woman in ten days. She was going to employ all the typical dating faux pas that women made all the time - until she finally would drive the unassuming girl away. All that was left now was to find said girl.

The first woman she approached was alone by the bar, drinking a beer. It looked promising; until she started talking about her wife. Disgruntled, Andie made a half arsed excuse and combed the crowd for a spot to stand and observe new patronage.