Can some draw either Shades and Mariah or Shades, Mariah and Che all watching this is Us with Shades in the middle crying and her/them passing him napkins
I’m not doing it because I can’t draw worth shit but I’m commissioning my friend @kyleraynxr to do it
Why does Misty hate Mariah more than Shades though? Even before the flip.
1. Because, as much as I love (or want to love) her, Misty’s almost always wrong.
2. Internalized misogyny. She was extremely hostile to Claire in season one when her real “issue” was with Luke and a huge asshole to Priscilla for…reasons? And, if I recall correctly, this season, she let Luke blame Mariah and took partial blame herself for HIS punching a hole in Claire’s wall.
3. Because according to everyone this season, everything is Mariah’s fault, always.
I thought she was bitter towards Priscilla because Priscilla was Mariah’s sorority sister/had clouded judgment about Mariah. Just like Mariah was Ridenhour’s high school sweetheart.
John had every right to be upset, but all Mariah did in that feud was order him to get her a drink when she was a teen. And I think her bossiness/brattiness came in part from her deep trauma, like Trish’s had. She wasn’t looking at the deal with any delight, she was just curious.
I feel like Mariah definitely is responsible for a lot of the evil shit in season 2, but Shades is her Lady MacBeth figure. He’s constantly by the side of her. She has an easier time humanizing or seeing the potential in him, though she can’t fathom Mariah having anything in her. I wonder if she had known about Mariah’s trauma, about her tormented upbringing, would she have been able to see another side.
As for the Candace death, that was all Shades. So I really don’t know why Mariah was the sole blame.
I thought it weird that Misty didn’t/doesn’t buy that Mariah is capable of love. Mariah has a love for Cornell. She has some kind of love deep down for Tilda. She has a love for Shades.
I don’t know why she thought it would be a good idea to reconnect with Tilda, even if just to use her for political photo-ops (which in and of itself is a shitty move). She gambled with her own mental stability and lost.
She uses people and hurts and destroys them, but she has some capacity to love still inside her.
Mariah is such an interesting character. Complex, more so than people think. She does some gruesome shit. She gradually loses her grip on stability and plummets head first into darkness. I think it’s both what was inside her all along AND what past memories and new arrivals brought out.
Why does Misty hate Mariah more than Shades?
1. The writing has been misogynistic from Day 1, so it’s not surprising at all.
2. Misty probably thinks Shades is the accomplice and Mariah is the mastermind.
3. I love Misty, but she’s so hardcore about justice, that it’s a tad uncomfortable. You know how people point out that Brooklyn 99 is technically police propaganda? Yeah, B99 has nothing on Misty.
Misty’s arc this season reminded me of the post that goes around about how illegal activity by cops is more likely to look like the “good cops” on TV instead of the bad.
I got the impression Misty wasn’t sympathetic toward Shades as much as acting nice to try to get him to flip. Also misogyny.
Mariah
called Hernán into her
office for a private chat. On her desk was a box wrapped in ribbon.
Hernán
stopped and waited for her to
hand it to him but Mariah did not budge.
“What
are you waiting for? Open
it!” she commanded.
Hernán
walked toward the desk, picked up the box, and undid the ribbon. In
the box was the three piece suit, neatly folded. Hernán turned back
toward Mariah and pulled off his sunglasses so she could see the gratitude in his eyes. With all the time they had spent at the
tailor’s measuring and remeasuring, everything was going to fit
perfectly. It was the most expensive piece of clothing Hernán had
ever owned. He made a note to himself not to get any blood on it.
Uh, well…I probably should not have taken a break from writing to read this because I’m not sure how my brain is supposed to reengage with, well, anything. Since it’s in a puddle now. Oops. 😉
Mariah
called Hernán into her
office for a private chat. On her desk was a box wrapped in ribbon.
Hernán
stopped and waited for her to
hand it to him but Mariah did not budge.
“What
are you waiting for? Open
it!” she commanded.
Hernán
walked toward the desk, picked up the box, and undid the ribbon. In
the box was the three piece suit, neatly folded. Hernán turned back
toward Mariah and pulled off his sunglasses so she could see the gratitude in his eyes. With all the time they had spent at the
tailor’s measuring and remeasuring, everything was going to fit
perfectly. It was the most expensive piece of clothing Hernán had
ever owned. He made a note to himself not to get any blood on it.
“Thank
you,” Hernán said. He leaned in to kiss her but she put a finger
to his lips.
“Not
yet,” Mariah replied. “Take the suit out of the box gently.”
Hernán
nodded and did as he was told. Under the suit was a pair of lacy
black panties and, under that was a pair of fishnet thigh-highs.
“I’ve
always wanted to see you in
a nice pair of lingerie,” Hernán
said with a wry grin as he handed the lingerie to her.
Mariah
returned his grin with a grin of her own. “I did not buy that for
me,” she said. Then she slowly
wrapped a hand around his wrists and
squeezed them together. “If
I wanted to buy lingerie for myself, you would have seen me wearing
it by now.” She pushed his
hands back toward his chest
and leaned forward, pinning
him against her desk. “I bought that for you.”
Hernán felt his
cheeks grow hot before he could stop himself. Mariah’s grin
deepened at the sight of him so flustered. “I…” he croaked, his
throat had gone dry and he could barely get any words out. “I…”
Arousal flooded his mind, banishing his other thoughts.
“You can say thank
you,” Mariah suggested.
“Thank you,”
Hernán repeated. “Thank you and…” he trailed off.
“And what?”
Mariah asked.
“How did you
know?”
****
It was late at
night at Seagate but Hernán and Darius were still awake. They were
in Darius’s bunk, enjoying one of the few moments of quiet they
could get in prison.
“So, when we
get out, what’s the first thing you wanna do?” Hernán whispered.
“Aw shit man,
that’s a good question,” Darius replied before squeezing Hernán’s
hand. “I’d go to Club A and order a tri-tip steak and a glass of
wine. How about you?”
“I’d go to
Harlem’s Paradise, buy a bottle of whisky—top shelf—and party
all night.”
Darius nodded.
“A’ight.”
Their eyes met
and they stopped talking. Darius traced lines across Hernán’ palm
with his thumb.
“I know one
thing,” Darius said breaking the silence. “When I get out, I’m
buying something nice. A silk shirt and a suede jacket. I’m so
godamned tired of this orange. Makes me look like a big black
pumpkin.”
Hernán laughed
quietly.
“I’ll buy
something for you too B,” Darius continued. “A three piece suit
for me, some silk lingerie for you.”
Hernán raised
his eyebrows. “What?”
Darius laughed
and shook his head.“I’m just playin’ man.”
Hernán flashed
him a dimpled smile. “You don’t think I’d look good in it?”He
asked.
Darius returned
his smile and gave him a quick kiss. “You look good in everything
B,” he said.
They kept talking
until Hernán had to go back to his own bunk for the nightly count.
The whole time, he tried not to let it show that Darius made him feel
something he hadn’t felt before.
In the nights
that followed, Hernán thought about Darius stripping him down until
all he was wearing was lingerie and admiring how it looked on his
svelte tattooed body. Then, when Hernán was tired of putting on a
show, Darius would tear the lingerie down to his ankles, and fuck him
until he couldn’t think straight. Yet he never told anyone, least
of all Darius, about how he felt. That is, until Mariah found a way
to coax it out of him anyway.
****
Shades
stormed into a Dominican chop shop with his gun raised.
“I’m
only going to ask you this once, where is the money?” He
threatened.
“I
don’t have it yet, just give me more time please!” The shop owner
pleaded back. He was a balding middle aged man in a wife beater
named…Arturo?…Alberto?…Shades had trouble remembering.
Shades
shook his head. “You somehow managed to cross both the Trinitarios
and the DDP and so you came running to us. Protection ain’t cheap
and it’s time to pay up.”
“I
know I know and I will have it but-”
Shades
turned to give a quick ‘go ahead’ glance to Sugar. His larger
accomplice nodded back, then grabbed a baseball bat from behind the
counter and began smashing the windows of the stolen cars. Shades
could tell from the color draining out of Alberto’s face that his intimidation was working.
“Stop!
Stop!” Alberto…yes! That was it!…cried out.
“Sugar
here doesn’t like working for free,” Shades pontificated. “He
appreciates timely payment, in full for services provided, as
do I.” There was something about Mariah’s suit that gave him an
aura of sophistication he had previously lacked. Knowing how to gain
power over others, and how to wield it, an art Shades had mastered
with decades of practice. It was a delicate balancing act that kept
him alive inside of prison and out. Yet, in Mariah, he had found
someone who he could trust with relinquishing it entirely
“Surely
we can work some sort of deal,” Alberto whimpered.
“Perhaps,”
Shades replied. Then he gave another glance at Sugar, who stopped his
mayhem but continued to hold the baseball bat at his side. There was
something liberating to that trust Shades had for Mariah. The black
lacy lingerie he was wearing under his suit was a reminder of that.
Before he could stop himself, he began to think about her on top of
him, binding his wrists together with his own silk tie, tearing off
his slacks, pulling the lingerie down with her teeth and then
stroking his stiffening-
Then
Shades remembered where he was, and the fantasy stopped. Most of the
time, such thoughts were not unwelcome but he hated it when
they interrupted him during work. He could feel the blush spreading
across his face and a bulge forming in his pants. He would have to
think of something fast before anyone noticed.
He
fired his gun in front of Alberto’s feet. The discharge echoed
through the walls of the chop shop. Alberto’s whimpering and
pleading grew louder.
“Give
me one good reason why I shouldn’t aim a little higher next time,”
Shades asked.
Alberto
didn’t reply, but he slowly turned his head to the desk behind the
counter.
Without
putting the gun away, Shades backed over to the desk and began
pulling papers out and throwing them on the floor. Then he found a manila envelope, reached into it, and pulled out a three ring binder
filled with signed baseball cards. Collateral.
“We’re
taking these,” he said.
“And
the bat,” Sugar added.
“And
the bat,” Shades repeated. “And giving you three more days to
come up with the money. After that, protection ends, you’re on your
own, and Sugar here might come back to play a bit of baseball with
your kneecaps. Understood?”
“Thank
you,” Alberto squeaked.
Shades
returned his gratitude with a smirk. Then him and Sugar walked out.
Another job well done for the Queen of Harlem.
After
Hernán
and Sugar returned to
Harlem’s Paradise, they
had their Wednesday staff meeting. As usual, Mariah had everyone
debrief what they had done the over the week and what they had
learned from it. What was new was how Mariah was looking at Hernán.
She was taking in how he looked in the suit, how it fit every curve
in her body, and she was also
undressing him with her
eyes, imagining how he
would look when the suit was in a pile on the floor. Hernán
let her take it all in.
He wanted to look
beautiful for her, in a suit and in lingerie both.
But
when it was Hernán’s
turn to debrief, the bemused expression on her face disappeared.
“I’m
afraid we are going to have to cut the meeting short today,” Mariah
said. “You may go.”
Mariah’s
accomplices all turned to exit but she put a hand on Hernán’s
arm before he could leave.
“Not
you Hernán,”
she said.
Hernán
stopped and turned
around.
“You
made a mistake today,” she said. “And for that you need a
dressing down.”
Hernán
looked at her
dumbfounded.
“That
means you strip. Now,” Mariah ordered.
The
command went straight to
his groin. All day he had been anticipating the moment when he could
show her how he looked, and that moment had finally arrived. The
shades came off first,
which Hernán
put on Mariah’s desk.
Then, with his heart pounding in his ears, he unbuttoned
his shirt and waistcoat. He folded both of them and put them on one
of the chairs facing the desk. Then he
undid his belt and the buttons on his slacks. He untied his shoes
next, put them off by his shirt and waistcoast, and then shimmied out
of his pants. As he stood before her wearing just the lingerie,
Hernán
became more aware about how the fishnets made his legs look longer
and more shapely. How the panties made his ass and hips look curvier
and his growing bulge more noticeable. Though she would not admit to
it, he
could tell that Mariah
noticed too and the sight was taking her breath away.
Mariah
got up and began to circle around him.
“You
said you intimidated a businessman today, is that correct?” Mariah
asked.
“Yes,”
Hernán
replied. “Because he was late on giving us the money.”
Mariah
ran her hand across his bicep. “I don’t need to hear excuses
Hernán,”
she said.
“Understood.”
“This
isn’t going to be how it was with Cornell,” Mariah continued as
she traced her hand up from his bicep and across his collarbone. “He
had you act like common street thugs. Smashing things, yelling,
beating people up. That will not who we are. Not anymore.”
“With
all due respect,” Hernán
began
while reaching out to put his hands on her waist. “We
have a reputation to maintain.”
Mariah
shoved his hands back to his sides with enough force that he
understood he wasn’t allowed to touch her.
“Yes
we do Hernán,
as a dependable
organization that people can come to for help,” she retorted. Then
she moved her hands across his chest and began to trace circles
around his nipples with her index fingers. They hardened at her touch
and his breath hitched. “You
said Arturo was in trouble with the Trinitarios and the DDP correct?”
“Y-yes,”
Hernán
replied
“That
means he had nobody to turn to, nobody but us,” Mariah said as she
moved her hands toward his shoulderblades and down the small of his
back. “Do you know what happens to people when they are desperate
Hernán?”
Mariah asked as she gave
his ass a light squeeze.
“I…um…”
Hernán
could barely speak.
“They
look to the person who is giving them the most,” Mariah continued
as she moved one hand across the back of his thigh and the other one
down the strip of hair below his belly button. “The trick is to
give them just enough…” she moved her palm across his
cock from the head down the shaft. He bit back a whine and tried to
keep his legs from shaking. “…that they become completely devoted
to you.”
Mariah
dropped her hands to her sides. “So
the next time you find someone in a desperate situation, you don’t
smash up their store or threaten to shoot them. You tell them ‘we
understand, these are desperate times’ and you make them sell only
to you, or you ask them to store your contraband, or you ask them to
launder your money. They will be happy to help and will think you are
doing them a favor.” Then Mariah looked right at him as if
expecting a reply.
“Of…course,”
Hernán
acknowledged breathlessly. His cock was straining against the silk
and he was almost begging
for her to keep touching it.
“You
are patient listener Hernán.
Do you want a reward?”
“Yes!”
he squeaked.
“Mmmm,”
Mariah hummed. Then she sat back on her desk, removed her own
panties, and spread her legs. “Come here,” she
ordered.
An
eager grin spread across Hernán’s
face. He walked up to her and dropped to his knees. Then he hitched
up her dress with his
hands, pushed her thighs
further apart, and
nestled his head between them.
As
he moved his tongue
across her clit, Hernán
felt the fishnets rub
against the carpet and the silk brush against the back of his feet.
He knew that he looked
sexy as he was pleasuring her and, from the times that he looked up
at her, he could tell that she was enjoying the view. She cried out
when he began to lick her entrance, which was already wet from how
she had been stroking and teasing him. She reached out and pushed his
head further into her and she would not let go until she came over
and over. He hummed with contentment as he kept licking and sucking her.
He knew how much he was giving her, and how much she admired him.
Once
Mariah felt like she had enough, she pushed his head gently away from
her. He rested it across her lap and shut his eyes. She ran her hands
through his hair, massaging his scalp.
“You’re
growing your hair out Hernán.
I like it.”
“I
like your…everything,” Hernán
replied into her thigh.
Mariah
laughed before she could stop herself.
“Baby,
you make me feel,” he
continued, the words tumbling out of him before he could stop
himself. “Like no woman has ever made me feel.”
Mariah
leaned over and kissed his forehead. “And how is that?” She
asked.
He
thought of how he looked face down in her lap while
wearing lingerie. It was
a sight that would make most of the women he’d been with laugh at
him, and call
him names he did not want
to repeat even to himself.
Then they’d throw him
out and tell their friends, who’d tell their friends until everyone
knew and his life would be at risk. But
Mariah guessed it was something he would want and, rather
than hold that against him,
she wanted him to wear it. What
could he say that would convey just how freeing
that was?