#eddie: are you aware you have an infestation? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imagine--if · 2 years

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Omg imagine soft!yandere Eddie first meets the reader when he saves her from muggers in his Riddler get-up. The reader passes out bc the muggers drugged her so she wakes up in Eddie's apartment curled up on his lap and he's gently running his fingers through her hair while humming.

A/N: Hell yea, he’s so protective, I feel like a relationship with soft yandere Eddie would be love at first sight 😍

Pairing: Dano!Riddler x reader (The Batman 2022)

Warnings: Soft!Yandere Riddler, mentions of violence and drugs, obsessive loving 💚

Words: 1199

If you hadn't gone out so late in the first place, you would never have been nearly killed... and would never have ended up at the Riddler's apartment.

Thugs infest the streets of Gotham, particularly at night, spray painting and attacking and stealing, before that bat signal is up in the air. It wasn't lighting up a circle of the darkening sky when you were grabbed and yanked into an alley, a few minutes away from being some muggers' new toy. Your yelp of pain and shock had been muffled behind a gloved hand as one of the thugs pierced your skin with a syringe of some sort, and your vision began swimming as you struggled to keep the evening in focus, the cackles of the group dying in and out.

The cackles came to an abrupt stop when they were hit.

You didn't see much, but you didn't really need to. You heard the cracks, saw the crimson drips, heard the heavy, shuddering breaths replace the previous mocking laughter. You had to stay awake, you had to... but the world was fading to black around you, and your legs threatened to give way as you leaned against a wall for support.

The figure amongst the bodies was suddenly at your side, their arms slipping under your back and hooking underneath your legs, picking you up and holding you close to their chest. You tried to struggle, unaware of who it was - probably another thug rivalling against the now dead ones.

"Ssh, ssh, ssh," the man hushed from under some sort of mask, and with a sigh, you let yourself finally go limp in his careful hold. "That's it..."

You wake up groggily, a dull ache in the back of your head. You blink as your eyes adjust to the mild light of the early morning, partially closed off by blinds hanging over the window.

You frown in confusion as you took in your surroundings. You're in someone's apartment - it sure as hell isn't yours - that looks pretty cluttered, with hundreds of books stuffed in bookcases and a long length of dark green material pinned up on the wall, a large white question mark painted over it.

Well, wherever you are, you need to get out before-

As if on cue, a masked individual appears at the door, and your breath catches in your throat as you quickly push yourself upright in awareness. Your head throbs in protest, and the man's eyes widen from behind his clear-framed glasses, hurrying into the room and taking ahold of your shoulders gently.

"No, no, don't do that," he tells you softly, easing you down until you're lying back on the bed, "take it slowly, angel, okay?"

You let out a long breath, trying and failing to understand what's going on.

"You shouldn't have lasting damage," he continues, sitting beside you and stroking your hair away from your face. "That scum didn't know what they were injecting. It was a weak sedative, no lasting effects. You're going to be just fine, sweet girl."

You nod slowly, recognising the mask and the symbol now you've properly come to.

"You're the Riddler."

"You know who I am?" He's almost giggling with excitement, his smile reaching his eyes behind his mask. "That's wonderful! Then you know that all I want to do is protect you... and love you..."

Your eyes go round at the last comment. "But... you don't know who I am."

"I know some things," he admits, "I can find out a lot of things, but I'd much rather it be you telling me. And it can be! We have all the time in the world."

You can barely process what's happening here. How it's gone from the Riddler happening to come across you and those thugs, then him potentially saving your life, to waking up in his apartment to straight out love confessions. He looks so hopeful too, you can tell.

Well. He did save your life. And, being totally honest, you aren't against the Riddler at all. You hate people like the ones you were grabbed by, and life would be a whole lot better without them.

So who are you to say no just yet?

"Um... okay," you breathe, still in a slight daze, and the Riddler smiles at you fondly, his ungloved hands brushing against your forehead.

"Does your head hurt as one of the minor side effects?" He questions you worriedly. "I'll get you some painkillers and water, if you like."

You muster up a small smile and nod, and then the Riddler's up, leaving the room for a minute to get them. You sit up, slower this time, and take a good look around the room, brows twitching in interest as your gaze glides over books of 'Renewal' and scrap papers scribbled all over with squiggles and cyphers.

The Riddler comes back and hands you the tablet and water, and you take them thankfully as his hands linger around his mask.

"I think I might take this off," He says hesitantly, "though I really shouldn't. But you won't know who I am anyway. And I trust you not to say anything."

You nod, deciding to trust him too, killer or not, in the circumstances. "No, I... I won't."

That settles it for him, and the Riddler removes his glasses before tugging off the mask and clingwrap covering his hair. Then the glasses are back on, and you stare in surprise and curiosity at the brown-haired and green-eyed man beside you, his expression a little anxious now he's exposed.

But you smile at him encouragingly, putting the water down on the table next to the bed. "Hi."

A dopey, lovestruck smile makes its way to his lips. "Hi. I'm Edward."

You respond with your name, and he repeats it thoughtfully, his smile widening at the sound of it. "Are you feeling okay now, angel?"

"Yeah, I think so."

Edward doesn't seem that convinced, and sits on the bed next to you, his arms encircling your waist as he pulls you up and onto his lap. Your cheeks heat up at the action, and Edward giggles under his breath, holding you tightly to his chest as if you've been together for months. His hair tickles your neck as he buries his face in your neck, rocking you soothingly in his embrace. You let yourself relax into it, and smile softly at the odd, fast-paced intimacy, almost laughing as you think about how unusual this all is.

Edward hums a tune contently as one hand strokes your side and the other plays with your hair. It sounds like Ave Maria, an old church song, and you listen quietly, your head resting against his chest and the deep green, thick cotton fabric of his hoodie.

You can feel yourself grow tired again, and settle in his comforting hold as your breathing evens out slowly. Edward seems to notice, and he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead as the hand in your hair strokes your cheek.

"Good girl... just sleep," he coos, the hand at your side pressing you further into him. "I'll be here. I love you..."

And so you do.

Taglist:

@greenxtea0 @moonwritesblog @lilyevans1 @httpsunflowers @hxney-lemcn @confusedchildsstuff @phantomofthecathedral @sugahbabieexo @bokksieu @skateb0red @wilburrrsworld @philiasoul @darthcringe @felicityofbakerstreet @bloodypantomime @deadlights-darling @tianotfound @mortem-muse @ireadandream @tinyryder @kpopgirlbtssvt @truecobblepot @jessicainhell

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zv5x · 2 years

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Aghhh could you do Yandere!eddie x plus size reader? Us big gals need some rep and the thought of him like working with the reader, like he’s stalked her before and maybe another person they work with says something mean, and he cheers her up? Also I love your writing sm I’ve been binging it all day

Yandere!Riddler • Plus Size!Reader (Headcanon Format)

Hii! I'm so happy you enjoy my writings! I hope you enjoy this one too! tw // use of the yandere trope , possessive and obsessive behaviors implied violence , delusional mindsets , etc

❔ Before, Edward wouldn't even have humored the idea of someone directing any kinds of hatred towards you as a concept. It just didn't make any sense to him. Sure, the city was an awful, infested place. But, there's no way they'd go so far as to include you in their victims list, right? He didn't want to believe it, but with blood stained hands and an insecure darling, it was a fact he had faced head on. He tried his best to comfort you, showering you in affection and complements, just like he always did. But he just couldn't shake the idea someone would take it upon themselves to harass you of all people. You! Such a beautiful angel! How could they? Truly. How could they?

❓ He didn't expect to see your working conditions be so....less than ideal, when he finally figured out that you worked at the same place as him. Considering he worked at the same place, and he had little to no issues, he was expecting everything to be fine. He was expecting to get quite jealous, actually, as you were so sweet to him, and he saw you as to oblivious to really distinguish between nice and nice with an inpure alternate motive. However, when he stumbled upon a coworker making horrid comments about your body shape, he could barely hold himself back from storming up to them immediately. He knew he would likely lose his job if he were to assault someone, so he kept his composure and focused more on you, refusing to let go of your hand for the remainder of the workday

❔ Edward is still incredibly possessive over you, especially with the newly realized threat that was just dealt with. He was sure that solution only fixed that one situation though, and so now even something as small as a backwards glance is handled with grand suspicion. Barely trusting anyone, he's always right besides you when interacting with others he doesn't personally know himself, just in case they dare say something that may harm you emotionally

❓ Of course, he's still bragging to you to his followers. You are his darling after all, what reason doesn't he have to do that? His viewers are all aware of just how beautiful and amazing you are, and if any of them dare disagree, it's their head that's left bodyless for the world to see. This reason alone makes gushing about you to his fans all the more worth it, as the intimidation that now comes along with the concept of harassing you will make many completely reconsider, and that's all he wants for his darling.

❔No comments from the general public, no lies, no pain, just you and him. Forevermore, and that's how he'll always expect it to be

#x reader #riddler #paul dano riddler #male yandere #riddler x reader #paul dano #yandere male #dano riddler x reader #yandere #yandere x reader

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singledarkshade · 5 years

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Burning

Part Five – Oil And Water The door closed leaving them alone and Ava turned to Sara, “That’s amazing.”

“What is?”

“That you and Rip manage to antagonise each other without even being in the same room,” Ava said, continuing before Sara could reply, “Did you not think telling Agent Danvers she couldn’t trust Rip might not be the best idea? Considering how comfortable he seems to be here.”

“And you wouldn’t want to know that someone is going to turn on you for their own ends?” Sara demanded, “I thought Alex might listen to me. We worked together well during the attack on the West-Allen wedding and she trusted me then.”

Ava raised an eyebrow, “Yes, she mentioned that.”

Sara frowned at her, “It was before I stopped disliking you.”

“Of course.”

“There’s also the woman who nearly burned us alive,” Sara continued.

Ava shrugged, “What about her?”

“You heard what Rip said,” Sara told her, “He was going to go check on Gideon. That was Gideon.”

Ava stared at her, opened her mouth to ask before stopping, thinking about it for a moment and asking, “What?”

“We saw her in Rip’s mind once,” Sara explained, waving her away before Ava could ask, “And did you see she’s pregnant? Isn’t that interesting.”

Frowning Ava thought this over, “So, this universe has a version of Gideon who is human?”

“Actually, Miss Sharpe,” the familiar voice came making them turn to the door where the woman in question stood, “I am the same Gideon you knew.”

Sara stared at her, “What? How?”

“The torpedo that hit the Waverider contained dark matter,” Gideon stated, taking a few steps into the room, “My hypothesis is that the dark matter mixed with my matrix. The eddies of the time stream were supercharged by the torpedo then, the presence of my true Captain and our bond, gave me human form.”

“Your true Captain?” Sara asked her voice filled with mocking, looking Gideon up and down thoughtfully before noting, “Who I’m betting is more than happy with the change in you, considering your condition.”

Ava winced, this was not going to end well. She started checking for a fire extinguisher just in case, after what had happened when they arrived.

Gideon drew herself up, anger filling her eyes while her arm wrapped protectively around her bump, “You have no right to judge anyone, Miss Lance.”

“Am I wrong?”

“My relationship with Rip is none of your business,” Gideon stated sharply, “Nor is my pregnancy,” she turned to Ava, “I suggest when you finish your mission here, Miss Sharpe that you ensure all members of your staff are removed from this Earth.”

“Gideon…”

“Understand that if one of your people tries to take Rip,” Gideon cut Ava off, “You will find out just how much he means to the people here.”

With that said she walked out.

“Well,” Ava shook her head, “We’re making friends today.”

Sara snorted.

“On the bright side, she didn’t set us on fire.”

Gideon left the room and took a few deep breaths to control herself, feeling the flames flickering around her fingers. Managing to quench them after a moment.

“Wow,” Hannah spoke up from the corner, where she was holding a fire extinguisher, “I was sure I would have to use this.”

Gideon shook her head, “I knew Rip would not be happy if I allowed them to provoke me that I did start a fire.”

“And he would then get overprotective the way he always does,” Hannah chuckled.

Gideon sighed sadly, “I remember when they were friends. When Rip trusted them and knew he could count on them. Now, all they do is antagonise one another.”

“It’s made you take sides,” Hannah reached out and rested her hand on Gideon’s arm comfortingly.

Nodding Gideon whispered, “I love Rip. I have loved him for a long time and being here with him now is wonderful. But the Legends were my friends.”

“If you need to talk,” Hannah reminded her.

“Thank you,” Gideon smiled at the other woman, “You’re such a good friend.”

With a smile Hannah patted her arm quickly before Gideon left.

Rip looked up from staring at his computer hearing the voices coming from the corridor. He couldn’t help but smile when Winn poked his head round the doorway.

“What can I do for you?” Rip asked.

Winn grinned at him, “Well, I’ve been telling Cisco about the portal generator and…”

“You want to show it off,” Rip rolled his eyes, motioning him inside, “Fine.”

Grinning at him Winn entered the lab along with Cisco. Rip took a breath and nodded, “It’s good to see you again, Mr Ramon.”

Cisco frowned slightly, “I’m guessing you’ve met me before in the future?”

“My past,” Rip nodded, “You don’t change much.”

“Good to know,” Cisco grinned, he studied the generator scanning the information Winn brought up for him, “So, from what I know you’ve already made one of these since the Bureau use their watch things to travel through time and space.”

Rip smiled, “What you need to remember is this is a different universe. The energy frequency is altered slightly which changes the requirements and at times caused issues I didn’t have previously.”

“And doing it without time travel also changes things,” Winn added.

Rip smiled at Winn’s eye roll remembering the amount of times Rip had to remind him of that very fact.

“However, we are only able to use it under certain circumstances,” Rip told him, “Rules etc.”

Winn’s phone beeped and he sighed, “Alex needs us to start going over the information the Lowell guy brought with him. We’ll see you later.”

Rip nodded, watching the two men leave his lab hoping that this was sorted fast so they would leave. Leaning back in thought, Rip began to worry over having them here and that they knew he was here. He’d felt safe for the past year, and now his refuge was gone.

He had to do something to make sure they couldn’t take him from his new home. He just didn’t know what that was yet.

*********************************************

Ava found a seat in the part of the main section of the DEO with Sara, Agent Danvers and Lowell. The man introduced as Winn took his station while Gideon took hers. Ava had to admit she was still having trouble with the fact that the woman sitting there had once been the AI for the Waverider.

It was even stranger that she was pregnant and able to shoot fire from her hands.

As the discussion went on Ava looked around the room. She spotted Rip talking with the man in charge. Rip left the office with a mug in one hand and a book in the other, walking up the stairs to the balcony and taking a seat there.

Knowing she had nothing to really add to the discussion just now she decided to talk to him privately.

Rip looked up from his book when she sat at his side, “What do you want, Ava?”

“What happened to you?” she asked softly, “Sara said you were trapped with at least a dozen of those Gnarl things. You were declared dead.”

He shrugged, “I survived. Been doing it for a long time. The other side of the rift came out on this Earth where the DEO found me.”

“So you joined them.”

Rip stared at her, his eyes dark, “It’s none of your business, Ava.”

“I need to know whether or not I should be discussing extradition with them,” she stated, “Considering your status on our Earth.”

Letting out a snort of derision, Rip put his book down, “Yes, my status decided by a man who wanted nothing more than to take over my agency because he thought he knew better.”

“Rip,” Ava frowned at him, “You went rogue, you got agents killed because you wouldn’t listen…”

“To Sara?” Rip cut her off angrily, “Because I wouldn’t listen to Sara, is that what you were going to say?”

After a moment she nodded, “She was right about Darhk and you know it. If you’d listened to her, things would have turned out differently.”

“You truly think that?” Rip chuckled darkly shaking his head, “Because I studied every aspect of the anomaly before I did anything. Isn’t that interesting that you believe in her so much when you wanted to blow them out the sky at one point.”

Ava stiffened slightly.

“You’re all so convinced that you know what you’re doing,” he rolled his eyes, “That you have everything worked out.”

Frowning Ava replied, “We do. We stopped Mallus with minimal losses. The Bureau is working at peak efficiency and, with the help of the Legends, are keeping time safe from all threats.”

“Of course you are,” Rip replied wryly, “You’ve been doing it for a few years so that obviously trumps the fact I was trained to travel in time since I was ten years old. You think Mallus is the worst thing that can come after you? You have no idea what’s out there, Ava nor what they can do. Bennett was blinded by his own ambition, be careful you don’t fall into that trap.”

His watch buzzed and he stood heading to where the others were sitting leaving her watching his back.

Gideon was aware that Miss Sharpe was talking to Rip while they worked on the information the Time Bureau had brought. She was doing her best to focus on her work and not him, but she could sense how on edge he had been since their visitors had arrived.

“Gideon,” Rip’s voice made her turn.

Surprised that time had passed so quickly she nodded and took the hand he offered to help her stand.

“Hold on,” Sara snapped annoyed at the interruption, “Gideon is working on this for us.”

Alex quickly stepped in before Rip could retort, “It’s her weekly appointment with the doctor. It shouldn’t take more than an hour.”

The blonde frowned but didn’t say anything else as Rip wrapped his arm around Gideon’s waist and moved her away. He was quiet as they walked, and Gideon could feel his worries.

Reaching the medical section Dr Elgin waved them into the room while she finished up with her current patient.

“They will leave soon, Rip,” Gideon said softly as he helped her sit on the bed, “And everything will go back to the way it was.”

“We hope,” he snorted, “You know how the Legends manage to infest.”

Gideon frowned at him.

“I just need them to leave,” Rip told her, “I just…”

Catching his hand when he trailed off, Gideon pulled him close, “Rip, I know you’re worried but J’onn and Alex will not let anyone take you,” she gave him a cheeky smile, “They like me too much.”

Rip laughed, “Who wouldn’t.”

“If you helped then this might go faster,” Gideon reminded him softly.

Rip shrugged, “I’m technical support for the DEO only.”

“Captain,” Gideon frowned before asking, “Why are you not helping?”

He grimaced at the direct question, “Because I can’t. Please don’t ask me to, Gideon. I was put in prison because of them, I lost something I put so much work into building because of them, I lost my ship and I nearly lost you because of them.”

Touching his cheek Gideon drew him closer and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Okay,” Elgin appeared interrupting them, “Gideon, just lie back and we can get this over with quickly.”

Gideon followed the doctor’s instructions and lay back on the bed, she held Rip’s hand as Elgin performed her tests before she squeezed some gel on her stomach. Studying the ultrasound Elgin smiled at them.

“It looks like you only have two weeks left before the birth,” Elgin told her, “Therefore I want you to remain within the DEO from next week so that you’re here when you do go into labour.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Rip said before Gideon could argue.

Elgin nodded, “I’ll talk to you both next week but remember if you need me, Gideon, I’m here for any questions or concerns you have.”

Rip smiled at the small pout that appeared on Gideon’s face as the doctor left them alone.

“It’s the best thing,” he reminded her, “This isn’t a normal pregnancy. I know you don’t want to be stuck here, but it will make me feel better knowing that the doctor is only a few floors away when you go into labour. You know I’ll be with you, so will the others. The room will have everything you’ll need.”

“But…”

“Gideon,” he stroked her hair, “It’ll be the safest place for you to be. Just in case.”

“I should get back to work,” Gideon told him.

Gideon frowned surprised when Rip stopped her moving off the bed “Rip?”

“This is probably not the best time to talk about this,” he said softly, “But once you’re no longer pregnant we can start thinking about the future.”

Surprise filled her eyes, “The future?”

Rip rested his forehead against hers, “We have one, don’t we?”

A brilliant smile covered her face, “Yes.”

Rip helped her off the bed, “You should get back to work.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, “We said an hour. I have ten more minutes.”

*********************************************

“You’re sure about this?” she demanded.

Simpkins nodded, “I have everything you need. If the morons from the Time Bureau followed me then they will have contacted the DEO.”

“My contact assures me they have,” she replied with a smirk.

“Good,” he told her, “They’ll follow the breadcrumbs I’ve left for them and you’ll get your prize within the next few days.”

“And then I can finally eliminate that disgusting alien in a short skirt.”

#fic #legends of tomorrow #rip hunter #gideon #timeship #supergirl #alex danvers

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asthmaqueeneddie · 7 years

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idc what you write about I just need some hcs!! anything will be good!!

hello friend today i bring you; mike hanlon being the mom friend of the group (for sake of the hc, let’s pretend mike isn’t homeschooled)

-i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, mike hanlon is the glue that keeps the losers together

-he may have been dead last to join the group but that doesn’t make him any less important or valid

-mike makes sure to call bev every night he can to ask her about her new chicago life. he listens to her go on and on about her new school and how the kids are actually nice to her and how she isn’t a slut anymore (to which mike responds you were never a slut beverly, you were just a woman ahead of her time). he listens as she plays him songs she wrote on her keyboard and tells her every single one is her best yet.

-mike goes to ben’s house every day. he doesn’t judge when ben wants to listen to NKOTB, he even learns the words to Please Don’t Go Girl. he always makes time to sit and listen to ben when he learns a new history fact that he just had to share, even at 6am. he’s constantly invited to dinner with the hanscom’s and is never given the chance to refuse.

-mike goes to bill’s house after bill’s parents split up. he comforts bill when he gets upset and never misses an opportunity to tell mrs. denbrough just how lovely she looks on any given day. he sits through bill’s tales about his beloved brother, or any story he might tell for that matter, and never loses his patience despite the stutter. even though he had never met georgie, mike would always remember to tell bill how proud his brother would be of him. for eventually overcoming his speech problem, for getting out of the house and making new friends, for growing into the person he’s become.

-mike tries to stay away from sonia kaspbrak at all costs but there are times that no one else is around to pick up eddie for a scheduled hangout so he has to buck up and ring the doorbell. eddie tries to get to the door first but his mother is literally always on the couch in the living room so mike has no choice but to converse with the openly racist, homophobic woman who clearly hates him. there was even one point where she yelled slurs at him in an attempt to get him off her lawn, but he stood his ground as a frantic eddie pushed his way through the front door, sobbing strings of “i’m sorry” and “i love you, please don’t hate me” as mike leads him away. he knows that eddie’s mom can be a handful, and he’s aware of eddie’s aversion to drawing attention to himself so he always makes sure to ask about his life and his feelings. and eddie doesn’t like scary movies and richie can be a dick so mike’s arms are always open and ready to welcome the frightened boy.

-mike walks stan to class when he’s having a bad, panic-infested day. he’d walk stan to class for a whole month if he needed to. he carries various sanitizers and wet wipes around in his backpack in the off-chance stan might have left his supplies at home. he knows about stan’s ocd and how he likes to have his hand held (check out my stozier!handholding hc) while walking through the halls. and when richie isn’t there to do the job, mike steps up. normally two male teenagers, one black and one jewish, would turn some heads but nobody fucks with footballer mike hanlon.

-mike is richie’s biggest supporter in life. you can think it’d be eddie all you want but you’d be wrong. richie finds an interest in music and runs with it, forming a band with a few other rejects at school. mike goes to every show, learns the words to every song, even lets them use his grandpa’s barn for practice sometimes. mike sneaks in through richie’s window when he knows the tozier’s are fighting in the next room. he sits with richie and holds him when he’s trembling in the corner. in class, he plays thumb war with richie to keep him from disrupting the lesson.

-mike is the mom friend but that doesn’t mean the losers don’t take care of him when he needs it.

-stan tutors him in math when his grades drop so low that he almost loses his spot on the football team. mike wants to write songs so richie teaches him guitar. ben helps him construct a love poem for the girl in his biology class. eddie bakes him cookies before every big exam or football game or job interview. bev sends him mixtapes of rock and roll songs she’s heard that remind her of him. bill makes big “HANLON #42″ signs to hold up at the games. and the losers go to every. single. game.

-this is basically just to show my undying love for mike hanlon and i’m not sorry about it

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like-the-rest-of-la · 2 years

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wip wednesday

Thank you for tagging me Pia @buckactuallys!!! Have a little (ridiculous) something, especially for you :))

The last thing Eddie Diaz expects to come out of his trip to Buckley’s Plant Nursery & Landscaping with his son, is to develop an honest to God schoolgirl crush on the guy who owns the place.

The plan is simple. Get in, have Christopher pick out a couple of succulents for his school project, and get out without infesting anything in this shop with his bad plant karma.

But then, the first thing he’s greeted with is a hunk of a man, carrying two heavy packs of soil on his broad shoulders and Eddie swears he can watch a drop of sweat running down the man’s face in slow motion. His t-shirt looks like it’s one strategic muscle flex away from bursting at the seams and Eddie, yeah, Eddie’s gaping like a fish. For whatever reason, he’s starting to feel nervous.

“Hey,” hunk-man says as he hoists the soil on a counter next to him with a grunt, “What can I help you with?”

At least Eddie is self aware enough to close his mouth.

He’s still staring though. Because hunk-man proceeds to wipe the sweat off his face with the back of his hand.

Eddie jumps a little, when he feels a tug at his side, followed by a rather urgently whispered “Dad,” and he finally shakes out of his stupor. Oh, yeah, they’re here for a reason.

“Erm, hi. Yeah, I’m, no- he’s looking for plants,” Eddie says, gesturing to Christopher.

Since I'm a bit late, I'm just gonna tag @princessfbi @mellaithwen @renecdote and @theladyyavilee for next week :) (if you want to) 💖💖💖

#wip wednesday #lisa writes #buddie #fic excerpt

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mshellbrat · 7 years

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Hey guys! The next chapter of my Olicity Arrow/BTVS xover is now up! Sorry for the wait, but it’s been a really really bad week for me work-wise and now I’m spending the holiday weekend with my family. I will try to do better. I would love to hear what you think!

Chapter Summary: Felicity and Team Arrow face their first night of slayer patrol. Things, as always, don't exactly go according to plan.

Rating: M (for language, violence, and some gore so far)

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING!...except my original characters and their imaginary organization... :-)

Here goes!

“So,” Felicity looked up and toward her cousin who was sitting irreverently on top of a gravestone and kicking her feet back and forth still wearing her borrowed hot-pink mini, “exactly how long do we have to wait before...” she leaned over and looked down, “Edward here decides to make an appearance?” Before anyone could answer, she snorted to herself. “Edward the Vampire...dude should thank us for putting him out of that misery.”

Felicity glared at the tiny brunette. “Mere!”

Felicity, her cousin, and her mentor Dare were all currently waiting for poor Edward to awaken to his most-likely short undead afterlife. Felicity because this was to be her first actual battle against a vampire, Dare for backup and support should she need it, and Meredith because the half-vampire insisted she had to 'protect' her cousin. Dare had argued against her inclusion, but Meredith had pointed out her half-vampire status and that the new vamp would probably overlook her in any case. She also assured them that she was well versed in “ripping out hearts”...cause that was SUPER reassuring.

And Oliver? Well, he and Roy were positioned at range with a clear view of the area. The Pures had supplied them with wooden arrows. Digg was running comms, and Cross, Case, Riley, and Laurel were actually keeping an eye out on the rest of the city while Team Arrow were distracted.

Meredith rolled her eyes at Felicity and turned her focus on Dare. “Are we working on a specific timetable? Ballpark figure?”

Dare frowned. “You're a vampire...and you said you weren't new to this.”

Meredith waved her hand. “We didn't troll graveyards. We helped keep 'The Bronze' a safe zone and pitched in whenever some dumbass tried to open the Hellmouth.” Meredith made a face. “That last part just happened every other week or so. There are a lot of supernatural dumbasses.”

Felicity stared at her. “Every other week or so?” Just how often was she supposed to be dealing with these supernatural threats?

“This is a full-time job, Felicity,” Dare answered. He seemed to understand where her thoughts were headed. “This is every night. You know this isn't going away.”

Felicity groaned and gritted her teeth. She held up one finger for Dare and Meredith to give her a minute and marched away a bit. She lowered her voice and spoke to Oliver via comms. “Oliver, you CANNOT follow me around every night. You have to protect the city.”

“You realize we can still hear you, right?” Meredith called. “Vampires!”

“I'm also on comms,” Dare noted.

Felicity ignored them. “Oliver!”

< I'm exactly where I belong, Felicity...protecting you. >

Felicity glared toward the mausoleum she knew he was perked on. “That is not an acceptable response. Starling needs the Arrow!”

< A vampire infestation, an active hellmouth...these are the greatest threats Starling is currently facing. We ARE protecting this city. >

“This isn't your fight!” Felicity insisted.

< It is now. >

< Come on, Blondie, > Roy spoke up. < You can't honestly expect us to let you face this alone. >

“I'm not alone,” the slayer pointed back toward Dare and her cousin. “I have supernatural training, abilities, and backup. It doesn't take five people to kill one possessed vampire. This guy's probably going to pee himself.”

“She kinda has a point,” Meredith agreed. “I mean, we've got the slayer, a half-vamp, Dare the Pure, Red Fish and Green Fish out there, and let's not forget G.I. Joe back in the van. This is basically the roster to stop a decent size mini-apocalypse back in Edencrest. Good ole Eddie would probably rather dig his way to China than pop up here.”

“Would you stop mocking the victim?” Felicity hissed as she walked back over to join them.

Meredith canted her head to the side. “Yea...no, no I won't. The victim is gone. He's a Possessed now and you're fixing to kill him. You can't feel SORRY for him.” Her long brown curls danced around her shoulders as she pointed at Felicity sternly. “It's a rule!”

Felicity looked at Dare for help. The Pure winced and lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck. “As much as I hate to agree with drunken terror...”

“See!” Meredith gloated and hopped to her feet now standing on the headstone. “Even Ponyboy knows I'm right! You can't start humanizing every Possessed you face, Lissy. They have no souls. They're...” she pondered what word to use.

“Cockroaches,” Dare reluctantly supplied.

“Hmm,” Meredith pursed her lips, “I usually associate that particularly insect with Micah, but yea...” she nodded, “that works too.”

And Felicity wondered if she even wanted to know who Micah was. She filed the name away for another day. Now wasn't the time. She focused back on Oliver in her ear (and hey she didn't even think an embarrassing innuendo in her head that time...so she was calling that progress). “Oliver, the point is? THIS is massive overkill! This cannot become a nightly routine.”

Meredith nodded again. “Back in the day? One slayer and a stuffy British guy in tweed...who basically just watched and took notes.”

“This isn't back in the day,” Dare frowned at Meredith and she tossed him a 'duh' expression in return, “but we also don't need an army for every cemetery patrol. I allowed it tonight because it's Felicity's first kill. I understand her team's apprehension.”

< You ALLOWED it? > Oliver growled.

“Don't get your panties in a bunch, Ollie,” Dare mocked, “I'm well aware that I'm stuck with your ass for the foreseeable future.” He lifted his brows and looked at his slayer. “But Cross and Case did not sign up permanently for your crusade. They're covering tonight so your team can see what we're dealing with. As for tomorrow on? Other arrangements are going to have to be made. We only deal with human threats under very specific circumstances. We can't endanger the balance.”

“Great google,” Felicity realized, “I'm actually going to have to train someone on comms.” She was going to be spending every night in the field. She could research, develop, hack whatever was needed during the daylight hours and downtime, but during peak business hours she was going to be permanently unavailable. This was a disaster!

< Can I vote for...not Laurel? > Roy quipped.

< We'll worry about this later, > Oliver said.

“We will most definitely be talking about this later,” Felicity said, “but I will be worrying about this now. I'm an excellent multitasker.” She looked back toward the newly dug grave. “I can both watch dirt and freak out about letting someone else mess with my babies.”

“SHIT!” Dare cursed.

Felicity jumped and looked at her mentor. Dare was facing the direction where Oliver, Roy, and their current squat were located. Felicity frowned and turned as well. “What...” but her senses went wild. Her eyes narrowed and she spotted three figures moving through the darkness. As her eyes focused in, she recognized the female in the middle. “Oh frack!”

“Looks like Big Mamma decided to come pick up her new boy toy personally,” Meredith noted, “and she brought friends.”

“Arrow, Arsenal, behind you!” Felicity called.

Before she could even move in that direction, Meredith flashed by her at supernatural speed. Dare followed the half-vampire and Felicity ran after them. By the time she reached the fight, Dare had grabbed one vampire and thrown him away to buy them some time, then taken on the female who was obviously the largest threat. Meredith growled and jumped on the third male's back as he tried to reach the mausoleum and climb toward the vigilantes.

That left the other male for Felicity and she placed herself between the Possessed and her team. The vampire studied the blonde with a smirk. He looked over her jacket, yoga pants, and sneakers. Then he sniffed the air and laughed unimpressed. “Now what is a cute little blonde like you doing in a place like this? Don't you know good little girls get eaten?”

Felicity opened her mouth to respond, but the vampire yelled in pain as an arrow tore through his shoulder. The slayer knew the archer without looking. “HEART, ARSENAL! Aim for the heart!”

< Sorry, Blondie. I'm working on it. > Roy replied. < Keep him distracted. >

Felicity scoffed in disgust. “I love you, Scarecrow, but I don't think he's going to stand there so you can correct your aim.”

The vampire dove toward Felicity and she followed her instincts and danced to the side. He growled and Felicity finally got a good look at his real face. His forehead was deformed, twisted with wrinkles and bumps. His eyes glowed yellow with demonic energy, and his fangs glinted at the sides of his mouth. Okay, she was finding it a lot easier not to humanize him now.

“I'm starting to appreciate the sparkly 'Twilight' version,” Felicity muttered. “These things are fugly!”

< Felicity! > Oliver's voice was frantic. Felicity knew he must be tied up in a fight of his own.

“Hold on, Lissy!” Meredith shouted. “I forgot to bring a stake.”

Felicity looked back to see her cousin yanking viciously on her opponent's hair, still riding his back. As she watched the tiny brunette dove forward and clamped her own fangs into the side of the Possessed's neck then ripped them back out tearing flesh and sending blood flying. And that was just all kinds of eww.

A familiar dip in her stomach had Felicity dodging and just escaping the grip of her attacker. The vampire growled and tried to circle her. Felicity focused and matched his steps. She reached back and pulled free the stake hidden behind her back. She might need that. Google, but she was bad at this!

The vampire growled even louder as it recognized her weapon. Felicity didn't know what came over her, but she smiled. She waved the chunk of wood back and forth. “Not so much fun when the little blonde fights back, huh?”

“Slayer!” he spat.

< Felicity stop taunting the vampire! > Digg reprimanded, but he sounded out of breath.

Felicity frowned. “Digg stay in the damn van!”

< Too late. On my way. >

“Fabulous,” Felicity rolled her eyes.

< Felicity! > Roy warned.

The slayer ducked and swept the vampire's legs out from under him. He hit the ground, but then rolled to the side before she could pin him down. Felicity frowned and chased him. Stupid stubborn undead cockroach...

“Don't play his game, Sweetie,” Dare's voice sounded from the right and Felicity danced back and away. She glanced quickly to her mentor. He was leaning against the mausoleum having obviously already finished off his opponent. Now he was turning this into a practical lesson. He notched his head toward the vamp. “Remember your training. Make him play yours.”

The vamp hissed realizing his odds just got worse. He leapt forward, then howled again, this time an arrow sliced through his abdomen. Felicity threw up her hands. “REALLY, ROY?!?”

< Hey, that asshole's fast, okay? I'm trying! >

“You need to slap more water!” Felicity said.

< Felicity, tell your idiot cousin to move the vamp back away from the mausoleum and get off his damn back so I can finish him off! > Oliver barked.

“I heard that, jackass,” Meredith growled, “I'm only about thirty feet from you and I've got enhanced hearing. Who's the idiot, again?”

The vamp facing Felicity paused momentarily and looked offended. “Exactly how many of you are there?”

And, of course, this was when John Diggle came running up gun drawn and ready to help. The vampire obviously decided it was time to retreat. He moved toward Digg. Felicity reacted on instinct to protect her team, more than that to protect her family. She pulled Digg out of the way, passed him off to a waiting Dare, and met the vampire head-on. She sent one kick to the vampire's core, then another before he could move or react. He stumbled back slightly and she jumped and spun to kick him full-force in the head. The vamp fell rolling on the ground, but this time Felicity planted her full weight across his chest and pinned him. She flipped the stake in her hand point down, then buried it through his heart. The vampire froze stunned, then burst into dust.

Felicity coughed and waved her hand to clear the dust. She scrambled to her feet and turned to face Digg and Dare. “You guys okay?”

John nodded wide-eyed. “I should have stayed in the van.”

Dare huffed a laugh and clapped the taller man on the shoulder. “It's all good. You were trying to help.”

One problem solved, Felicity now looked to Meredith. The tiny brunette was still riding the final vampire's back. Her hands and face were covered in blood and the vampire was stumbling and trying unsuccessfully to dislodge her.

“Meredith, MOVE!” Felicity called.

Her cousin reacted immediately to Felicity's voice. She jerked the vampire into Felicity's direction, then pushed backward and let him go. Felicity threw a stake with perfect accuracy to lodge through his chest and into his heart. An arrow pierced him back to front at exactly the same time. The vampire looked down, cursed, then burst into dust.

“I am never gonna get use to that,” John muttered.

“Saves time on cleanup,” Dare pointed out.

A furious growl sounded from behind the mausoleum. Every head turned in that direction. They watched as an enraged demon in a dirty suit stalked toward them.

Meredith frowned. “Shit, we forgot about Eddie!”

The new vampire paused briefly hearing it's former name. He growled again and tilted his head in Meredith's direction. He sniffed the air, then made a disgusted face and flinched back as though trying to get away from her.

“You don't exactly smell like a bed of roses either, buddy,” Meredith drawled.

Felicity frowned and looked around for something to use for another stake. Dare waved for her to pause. The Pure leaned toward Felicity. “This guy's a Starling native, right?”

The slayer thought back over the information she'd pulled up on the victim's life. It hurt to think about the poor guy. Edward Thompson had been twenty-two. He'd had his whole life ahead of him. He took a night out at a club, left with the wrong girl, and now...he was this. “Yes,” Felicity frowned confused as she answered, “Starling born and raised.”

Dare nodded. “Good.” He stepped toward the newborn. “Hey Eddie!” The furious yellow eyes snapped in his direction. Dare just smiled and pointed toward the top of the mausoleum. “It's the Arrow!”

The newborn's head snapped toward where Oliver and Roy were positioned. He hissed in fear, then spun and started to run away. He only made it a few feet before Oliver put him out of his misery. As the arrow torn through his heart, he stumbled, then burst into dust.

Felicity glared at Dare. The Pure shrugged in return. “It worked,” he noted. Then he clapped his hands together and dusted off his jeans. He walked forward toward Meredith and threw the tiny brunette an irritated glance. “I forgot to bring a stake?”

Meredith held up her blood-covered hands. “I tried for his heart. Sucker was too tall. I couldn't get the right angle.”

Felicity heard John choke behind her. She turned and walked over to support her friend and partner. She led him toward the others. Oliver and Roy were climbing down from the mausoleum to join them.

“SO,” Dare looked them all over with critical eyes, “you've all officially survived your first night of patrol. Let's review, shall we?”

Thank you so much for reading! I would love to hear what you think!

#olicity #olicity fic #olicityfic #olicity fanfic #olicity fanfiction #olicity fan #oliver x felicity #arrow #arrowverse #oliver queen #felicity smoak #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy fanfiction #crossover #olicity crossover

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bountyofbeads · 5 years

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How we will remember our boss, Chairman Elijah Cummings: Moral clarity in all he did

He listened to us, respected us, trusted us and was truly proud of us. He had so much left to accomplish, but he has left it for us to complete.

Current and former staff of Rep. Elijah Cummings | Published October 25, 2019 | USA Today | Posted October 25, 2019 |

As current and former congressional staff of the late Rep. Elijah E. Cummings, chairman of the House Oversight and Reform Committee, we had the great honor and privilege of working with him over the course of more than two decades.

Many public figures have praised the chairman in recent days, extolling his unmatched integrity, courageous leadership and commitment to service and justice. To these well-deserved tributes, we would like to add our own eulogy, based on our experience working by his side.

He was inspiring, both in public and even more so in private. He brought moral clarity to everything he did, and his purpose was pure — to help those among us who needed it most. He taught us that our aim should be to “give a voice to the voiceless,” including families whose drinking water had been poisoned, sick patients who could no longer afford their medicine and, most of all, vulnerable children and “generations yet unborn.”

'WHAT FEEDS YOUR SOUL?'

Whether in a hearing room full of members of Congress or in a quiet conversation with staff, his example motivated us to become our best selves in the service of others.

He was genuine. He insisted on personally interviewing every staff member he hired so he could “look into their eyes.” Each of us has a personal memory of sitting down with him for the first time, and it was like nothing we had experienced before. He would ask why we were interested in public service, how we thought we could contribute and what motivated us.

Then he would lean in and ask in his low baritone voice, “But … what feeds your soul?”

More than a few of us left those interviews with tears in our eyes, perhaps feeling that we had learned more about ourselves than about him. He made that kind of personal connection with everyone he met, from the people of his district, to witnesses who testified at hearings, to whistleblowers who reported waste, fraud or abuse. Since his passing, we have been inundated with messages from many whose lives he touched.

BE EFFICIENT AND SEEK 'HIGHER GROUND'

He was demanding. He would boast that he had the hardest working staff in Congress and that he sometimes would call or email us in the middle of the night, which was absolutely true. His directive to be “effective and efficient in everything you do” still rings in our ears.

In exchange, he listened to us, respected us and trusted us. He made sure we knew he was truly proud of us — memories we each now cherish. The result of his unwavering support was fierce loyalty from every member of his staff. We committed to doing everything in our power to fulfill his vision.

He was a unifying force, even in this era of partisanship. He would command order with a sharp rap of his gavel, elevate debate by noting that “we are better than that” and urge all of us to seek “not just common ground, but higher ground.”

Guided by his faith and values, he would look for and bring out the good in others, forming bridges through human connection.

WE ARE HERE 'ONLY FOR A MINUTE'

He fully grasped the moment in which we are now living. He invoked history books that will be written hundreds of years from now as he called on us to “fight for the soul of our democracy.” As he said, this is bigger than one man, one president or even one generation.

He was acutely aware of his own transience in this world. He reminded us repeatedly that we are here “only for a minute” and that all of us soon will be “dancing with the angels.”

He would thunder against injustice, or on behalf of those who could not fight for themselves, and he would vow to keep battling until his “dying breath.” He did just that. His final act as chairman came from his hospital bed just hours before his death, as he continued to fight for critically ill children suddenly in danger of deportation.

He had so much left to accomplish, but he has left it for us to complete. As he told us presciently, “These things don’t happen to us, they happen for us.”

Grateful he was part of our destiny

It is difficult to describe the emptiness we now feel. His spirit was so strong, and his energy so boundless, that the void is devastating.

But, of course, he left us with instructions: “Pain, passion, purpose. Take your pain, turn it into your passion, and make it your purpose.” He lived those words, and he inspired us to do the same.

Sometimes, after a big event, he would take us aside for a quiet moment and say, “I just want to thank you for everything you do and for being a part of my destiny.”

Today, we thank him for being part of ours. And we commit to carrying forward his legacy in the limited time allotted to each of us — to give voice to the voiceless, to defend our democracy, and to always reach for higher ground.

The authors of this tribute are current and former staff of the late House Oversight Committee Chairman Elijah Cummings, D-Md., whose funeral is Friday. Their names are below:

Aaron D. Blacksberg, Abbie Kamin, Ajshay Charlene Barber, Alex Petros, Alexander M. Wolf, Alexandra S. Golden, Aliyah Nuri Horton, CAE, Amish A. Shah, Amy Stratton, Andy Eichar, Angela Gentile, Esq., Anthony McCarthy, Anthony N. Bush, Aryele N. Bradford, Ashley Abraham, Ashley Etienne, Asi Ofosu, Asua Ofosu, Ben Friedman, Bernadette "Bunny" Williams, Beverly Ann Fields, Esq., Beverly Britton Fraser, Brandon Jacobs, Brett Cozzolino, Brian B. Quinn, Britteny N. Jenkins, Candyce Phoenix, Carissa J. Smith, Carla Hultberg, Carlos Felipe Uriarte, Cassie Fields, Cecelia Marie Thomas, Chanan Lewis, Chioma I. Chukwu, Chloe M. Brown, Christina J. Johnson, Christopher Knauer, Dr. Christy Gamble Hines, Claire E. Coleman, Claire Leavitt, Courtney Cochran, Courtney French, Courtney N. Miller, Crystal T. Washington, Daniel Rebnord, Daniel Roberts, Daniel C. Vergamini, Darlene R. Taylor, Dave Rapallo, Davida Walsh Farrar, Deborah S. Perry, Deidra N. Bishop, Delarious Stewart, Devika Koppikar, Devon K. Hill, Donald K. Sherman, Eddie Walker, Elisa A. LaNier, Ellen Zeng, Emma Dulaney, Erica Miles, Fabion Seaton, Ferras Vinh, Fran Allen, Francesca McCrary, Frank Amtmann, Georgia Jenkins, Dr. Georgia Jennings-Dorsey, Gerietta Clay, Gina H. Kim, Greta Gao, Harry T. Spikes II, Hope M. Williams, Ian Kapuza, Ilga Semeiks, Jamitress Bowden, Janet Kim, Jaron Bourke, Jason R. Powell, Jawauna Greene, Jean Waskow, Jedd Bellman, Jenn Hoffman, Jennifer Gaspar, Jenny Rosenberg, Jess Unger, Jesse K. Reisman, Jessica Heller, Jewel James Simmons, Jill L. Crissman, Jimmy Fremgen, Jolanda Williams, Jon Alexander, Jordan H. Blumenthal, Jorge D. Hutton, Joshua L. Miller, Joshua Zucker, Julia Krieger, Julie Saxenmeyer, Justin S. Kim, K. Alex Kiles, Kadeem Cooper, Kamau M. Marshall, Kapil Longani, Karen Kudelko, Karen White, Kathy Crosby, Katie Malone, Katie Teleky, Kayvan Farchadi, Kellie Larkin, Kelly Christl, Kenneth Crawford, Kenneth D. Crawford, Kenyatta T. Collins, Kevin Corbin, Jr., Kierstin Stradford, Kimberly Ross, Krista Boyd, Kymberly Truman Graves, Larry and Diana Gibson, Laura K. Waters, Leah Nicole Copeland Perry, LL.M.,Esq., Lena C. Chang, Lenora Briscoe-Carter, Lisa E. Cody, Lucinda Lessley, Madhur Bansal, Marc Broady, Marianna Patterson, Mark Stephenson, Martin Sanders, Meghan Delaney Berroya, Michael F Castagnola, Michael Gordon, Michell Morton, Dr. Michelle Edwards, Miles P. Lichtman, Mutale Matambo, Olivia Foster, Patricia A. Roy, Paul A. Brathwaite, Paul Kincaid, Peter J. Kenny, Philisha Kimberly Lane, Portia R. Bamiduro, Rachel L. Indek, Rebecca Maddox-Hyde, Regina Clay, Ricardo Brandon Rios, Rich Marquez, Richard L. Trumka Jr., Robin Butler, Rory Sheehan, Roxanne (Smith) Blackwell, Russell M. Anello, Safiya Jafari Simmons, Sanay B. Panchal, Scott P. Lindsay, Sean Perryman, Senam Okpattah, Sonsyrea Tate-Montgomery, Susanne Sachsman Grooms, Suzanne Owen, Tamara Alexander Lynch, Theresa Chalhoub, Timothy D. Lynch, Todd Phillips, Tony Haywood, Tori Anderson, Trinity M.E. Goss, Trudy E. Perkins, Una Lee, Valerie Shen, Vernon Simms, Wendy Ginsberg, William A. Cunningham, William H. Cole, Wm. T. Miles, Jr., Yvette Badu-Nimako, Yvette P. Cravins, Esq., Zeita Merchant

**********

Widow of Elijah Cummings says Trump’s attacks on Baltimore ‘hurt’ the congressman

By Jenna Portnoy | Published October 25 at 12:44 PM ET | Washington Post | Posted October 25, 2019 |

BALTIMORE — The widow of Rep. Elijah E. Cummings said at his funeral Friday that attacks by President Trump on the congressman’s beloved hometown “hurt him” and made the final months of his life more difficult.

Maya Rockeymoore Cummings, who is chairwoman of the Maryland Democratic Party, said her husband was trying to protect “the soul of our democracy” and fighting “very real corruption” as chairman of the House Committee on Oversight and Reform, where he played a central role in investigating the Trump administration.

Trump lashed out at Cummings this summer, calling Baltimore, the heart of his district, a “rat-infested” place where no one would want to live. Cummings did not respond directly to the attacks, but his wife said Friday that they left a lasting wound.

Rockeymoore Cummings spoke near the end of a lengthy funeral program at New Psalmist Baptist Church, where Cummings worshiped for decades — showing up regularly on Sunday mornings for the 7:15 a.m. service. Still to come were eulogies by former presidents Bill Clinton — who visited the church with Cummings in the 1990s — and Barack Obama, the nation’s first black commander-in-chief.

Sen. Elizabeth Warren (D-Mass.), a 2020 presidential contender, recited the 23rd Psalm at the start of the service, which Rockeymoore Cummings said her husband planned down to the last detail.

House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.), who also grew up in Baltimore, gave remarks, along with former congressman and NAACP leader Kwesi Mfume (D-Md.), Cummings’s daughters, brother, mentors, friends and a former aide. Attendees included former vice president Joe Biden, also a 2020 Democratic presidential contender, and Maryland Gov. Larry Hogan (R).

Former U.S. senator, secretary of state and Democratic presidential nominee Hillary Rodham Clinton called Cummings “Our Elijah,” thanking his family and constituents of Maryland’s 7th District for sharing him “with our country and the world.”

“Like the prophet, our Elijah could call down fire from heaven. But he also prayed and worked for healing,” Clinton said. “Like the prophet, he stood against the corrupt leadership of King Ahab and Queen Jezebel.”

The people in the packed sanctuary clapped and cheered.

Cummings was “a fierce champion of truth, justice and kindness ... who pushed back against the abuse of power,” Clinton added. “He had little tolerance for those who put party ahead of country or partisanship ahead of truth.”

A schedule showed that each speaker was allotted about five minutes at the podium — a time limit that several quickly ignored.

The congressman’s oldest daughter, Jennifer Cummings, 37, delivered a powerful eulogy extolling her father as a seasoned political leader whose most important role was as a dad.

Cummings told her he was amazed he could hold her in one hand when she was born. “This life, my life, in your hand,” she said. He wanted her to know her “rich brown skin was just as beautiful as alabaster, or any color of the rainbow” and insisted on buying her brown dolls so she could appreciate what was special about her.

His other daughter, Adia Cummings, asked the dozens of members of Cummings staff to stand. “I’m so sorry you lost someone who was so much more than a boss to you,” she said.

James Cummings, the congressman’s younger brother, said the family called Elijah Cummings by the nickname “Bobby,” and recalled how the congressman was haunted by the death of his nephew, a student at Old Dominion University, up through his final days.

Mourners began lining up at the church at 5 a.m., the Baltimore Sun reported. By 7 a.m., traffic was backed up a half-mile away from the church, which seats nearly 4,000. A choir sang and clapped as mourners filed into the concert hall-like sanctuary.

A pastor read Bible passages through the public address system, and one of the white-gloved ushers recited the words along with him, from memory. Clips of Cummings speaking in Congress played on huge video screens above the open casket, which was surrounded by massive sprays of flowers.

“In 2019, what do we do to make sure we keep our democracy intact?” he said in one video.

Cummings, who had been in poor health in recent years, died Oct. 17 at age 68. He often said he considered it his mission to preserve the American system of government as the nation faced a “critical crossroads.”

But Cummings, the son of sharecroppers, was also a lifelong civil rights champion known for his efforts to help the poor and the struggling, and to boost the fortunes of his struggling hometown.

Just after 10 a.m., mourners at New Psalmist sprang to their feet and waved their hands as the Clintons and former vice president Joe Biden, also a 2020 candidate, walked in. The cheers grew louder when Obama followed, taking his place next to Maya Rockeymoore Cummings, the congressman’s widow, in the front row. Together, they sang along to the opening hymn.

As gospel singer BeBe Winas performed, a woman near the back wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. He sang: “Tell me, what do you do when you’ve done all you can / And it seems, it seems you can’t make it through / Well you stand, you stand, you just stand.”

The crowd obeyed.

Cummings was honored Wednesday at Morgan State University in Baltimore, a historically black research university where he served on the board of regents.

On Thursday, he became the first African American lawmaker to lie in state at the Capitol, a rare honor reserved for the nation’s most distinguished citizens. Congressional leaders held a memorial ceremony for their former colleague at the Capitol’s ornate Statuary Hall, after which the coffin, was draped in an American flag, was escorted to a spot just outside the House chamber. Thousands of members of the public came to pay their respects.

For more than two hours, Rockeymoore Cummings, personally greeted the mourners, shaking hands, sharing hugs and engaging in extended conversations. A former gubernatorial candidate who chairs the Maryland Democratic Party, she is considered one of the potential contenders for her late husband’s seat.

Rockeymoore Cummings greeted the last mourner at 7:39 p.m. Minutes later, a motorcade escorted Cummings’s body out of Capitol Plaza for the final time.

*********

Dear President Donald Trump, let me tell you about my ex-boss Elijah Cummings

He goes home to Baltimore every night. He is the same person on camera and off. And everyone knows his cell number, you should call him and talk.

By Jimmy Fremgen | Updated 9:56 a.m. EDT Aug. 2, 2019 | USA TODAY | Posted October 25, 2019 |

Dear Mr. President,

Just over six years ago I was sitting in the gymnasium at Woodlawn High School in Gwynn Oak, Maryland, and I was very unhappy. You see, it was a weekend and as I’m sure you’d agree, I would have much preferred to spend the day playing golf. Instead, my boss had ordered his entire staff, myself included, to drive to this town outside Baltimore on a muggy 93-degree day to help run an event to prevent home foreclosures.

I know you’re wondering whom I worked for, Mr. President. It was Rep. Elijah Cummings. And it is safe to say that on this day, we would have had something in common: I really didn’t like him much.

I worked for Mr. Cummings both on his Capitol staff and for the House Oversight and Reform Committee from August 2012 to February 2016. When he called me to offer the job, he was hard on me immediately. He told me that my salary was non-negotiable, that if I did something wrong he would be sure to tell me, and that he expected me to meet the high standard he keeps for himself and his staff.

Same Man At Podium, In Grocery Store

What I quickly learned about him is that he is the same person on camera and off. The passionate soliloquies that he delivers from behind the chairman’s podium in the Oversight hearing room are very similar to the ones that I often heard from the other end of the phone after he ran into one of his neighbors in the aisle of the grocery store back home. If someone came to him for help, he wouldn’t let any of his staff tell him it wasn’t possible. He’d push us for a solution and give his cellphone number to anyone who needed it — even when we wished he wouldn’t.

In March 2014, then-Oversight Chairman Darrell Issa cut off Mr. Cummings' microphone during his closing remarks, a massive break in decorum that left Cummings reading his statement aloud as the TV feed abruptly stopped. The incident hit cable news in seconds, and I remember coming back from a meeting to find every single person in the office answering phone calls.

joined them on the phones, enduring nonstop racist epithets, cursing, threats and language that I had never imagined. I remember one vividly, a call from a Colorado area code on which an older female voice told me that Cummings better “sit down and shut up like the good boy someone should have taught him to be.” The phones rang this way for three days.

At Home In Baltimore Every Night

Sir, I won’t defend Baltimore, I’m not from there, and there are many who have already stood up to do so. Instead, let me correct you on one last thing: Unlike almost every other member of Congress, Congressman Cummings goes home every night. Honestly, when I worked for him, sometimes I wished he wouldn’t. There were times when I would want him to attend an early morning meeting, take a phone call or approve a document and he couldn’t, because he’d be driving the 44 miles from his house in Baltimore to the Capitol.

During the protests after the death of Freddie Gray in 2015, I couldn’t get hold of Mr. Cummings. Gov. Larry Hogan had called in the National Guard, and I was trying to relay an update about the soldiers that would soon be standing in the streets. It turned out that the congressman was in the streets himself, marching arm-in-arm with community leaders, pastors, gang members, neighbors, anyone who was willing to peacefully protect his city. He walked back and forth, bullhorn in hand urging people to be peaceful, to respect one another, to love each other and to get home safely.

Mr. President, I know you are frustrated. I, too, have been dressed down for my own mistakes by Congressman Cummings. I know how rigorous he can be in his oversight. I agree it can be extensive, but it certainly does not make him a racist.

Instead, let me offer this: I met you once in Statuary Hall of the Capitol, amid the sculptures of prominent Americans, and gave you my card. If you still have it, give me a ring. I’d be happy to pass along Congressman Cummings’ cellphone number so the two of you can have a conversation. Or better yet, swing through the aisles of one of the grocery stores in West Baltimore. I’m sure anyone there would be willing to give you his number.

Yours Sincerely,

Jimmy Fremgen

Jimmy Fremgen is a Sacramento-based consultant specializing in cannabis policy. He handled higher education, firearms safety, defense and foreign affairs as senior policy adviser to Rep. Elijah Cummings from 2012 to 2016.

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Elijah Cummings knew the difference between winning the news cycle and serving the nation

By Eugene Robinson | Published October 24 at 5:00 PM ET | Washington Post | Posted October 25, 2019 |

There are moments when the U.S. Capitol feels like a sanctified space, a holy temple dedicated to ideals that transcend the partisan squabbles of the politicians who work there. The enormous paintings that tell the story of America, normally like wallpaper to those who work in the building, demand attention as if they are being seen for the first time. The marble likenesses of great men — and too few great women — seem to come alive.

Thursday was such an occasion, as the body of Elijah E. Cummings, the Maryland congressman who died last week at 68, lay in state in one of the Capitol’s grandest spaces, Statuary Hall. There was a sense of great sadness and loss but also an even more powerful sense of history and purpose.

Cummings was the first African American lawmaker to be accorded the honor of lying in state at the Capitol. That his casket was positioned not far from a statue of a seated Rosa Parks would have made him smile.

Something Cummings once said seemed to echo in the soaring room: “When we’re dancing with the angels, the question we’ll be asked: In 2019, what did we do to make sure we kept our democracy intact?”

Cummings was able to give an answer he could be proud of. What about me? What about you?

He was the son of sharecroppers who left South Carolina to seek a better life in the big city of Baltimore. When he was growing up in the 1950s and 1960s, Jim Crow segregation was still very much alive. Angry whites threw rocks and bottles at him when, at age 11, he helped integrate a previously whites-only swimming pool. He attended Howard University, where he was president of the student government, and graduated in 1973. A friend of mine who was his classmate told me it was obvious even then that Cummings was on a mission to make a difference in people’s lives.

He got his law degree from the University of Maryland, went into private practice, served in the Maryland House of Delegates and was elected to Congress in 1996. At his death, he was the powerful chairman of the House Oversight and Reform Committee. But the reason he was so influential, and will be so sorely missed, has less to do with his title than with his integrity and humanity. In floor debates and committee hearings, he fought his corner fiercely. But I don’t know any member of Congress, on either side of the aisle, who did not respect and admire him.

A roster of the great and the good came to the Capitol on Thursday to pay their respects. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi called Cummings “our North Star.” Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell spoke of Cummings’s love for Baltimore. Rep. Mark Meadows of North Carolina, an ideological foe, teared up when he spoke of Cummings as a personal friend. Senate Minority Leader Charles E. Schumer said “his voice could shake mountains, stir the most cynical heart.”

The scene was a sharp contrast with what had happened one day earlier and two floors below. The House Intelligence Committee was scheduled to take a deposition from a Pentagon official as part of the impeachment inquiry into President Trump’s conduct. The closed-door session was to take place in a basement room designed to be secure from electronic surveillance. Before the deposition could get started, more than two dozen members of Congress — including some of Trump’s staunchest and most vocal defenders — made a clown show of barging into the room, ostensibly to protest that the deposition was not being taken in an open session.

Some of those who participated in the sit-in had the right to attend the hearing anyway; some didn’t. But the protest had nothing to do with substance. The point was to stage a noisy, made-for-television stunt in Trump’s defense that could divert attention, if only for a day, from the facts of the case. The interlopers ordered pizza and brought in Chick-fil-A. Some took their cellphones into the secure room, which is very much against the rules.

I have deliberately not mentioned anyone’s party affiliation, because the contrast I see between the juvenile behavior in the basement and the Cummings ceremony in Statuary Hall is more fundamental. It is between foolishness and seriousness, between nonsense and meaning, between trying to win the news cycle and trying to serve the nation.

Cummings knew the difference. We have lost a great man. The angels must be lining up to dance with him.

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Elijah Cummings, Reluctant Partisan Warrior

The story of the veteran lawmaker is one more example of how, in Washington, appearances deceive, and public performances and private relationships often diverge.

RUSSELL Berman | Published OCT 17, 2019 | The Atlantic | Posted October 25, 2019 |

The image many Americans likely had of Representative Elijah Cummings, who died this morning at the age of 68, was of a Democrat perpetually sparring with his Republican counterparts at high-profile congressional hearings.

There was Cummings in 2015, going at it with Representative Trey Gowdy of South Carolina while a bemused Hillary Clinton sat waiting to testify about the Benghazi attack. Two years later, the lawmaker from Maryland was clashing with Representative Jason Chaffetz of Utah, who would not countenance Cummings trying to inject the investigation into Russian interference into an unrelated Oversight Committee hearing. “You’re not listening!” the Democrat shouted at one point. And then this February, Cummings found himself bickering with Representative Jim Jordan of Ohio, who accused Cummings of orchestrating “a charade” by calling President Donald Trump’s former lawyer Michael Cohen as one of his first witnesses when he became chairman of the panel.

Yet the story of Cummings, at his death the chairman of the House Oversight Committee and a key figure in the impeachment inquiry against Trump, is one more example of how, in Washington, appearances deceive, and public performances and private relationships often diverge. In the hours after Cummings’s death was announced, heartfelt tributes streamed in from the very Republicans he had criticized so passionately. The contrast in tone with these memories of bitter public battles was jarring, even perplexing.

“I am heartbroken. Truly heartbroken,” Representative Mark Meadows of North Carolina, the founding chairman of the conservative House Freedom Caucus, told CNN. Chaffetz called Cummings “an exceptional man.” “He loved our country,” tweeted the former Oversight Committee chairman, who jousted with Cummings when the Democrat was the panel’s ranking member. “I will miss him and always cherish our friendship.” The House Republican leader, Representative Kevin McCarthy of California, hailed Cummings as “a leader for both parties to emulate.”

It’s easy, of course, to find a kind word for the deceased—even Trump, who just a few months ago called Cummings’s Baltimore congressional district a “disgusting rat and rodent infested mess,” lauded him as a “highly respected political leader” in a tweet this morning.

Yet by all accounts, the reactions from Republicans on Capitol Hill were no crocodile tears, and Cummings had genuine personal relationships with several of them. Cummings himself described Meadows as “one of my best friends,” and came to his defense after Representative Rashida Tlaib of Michigan accused the Trump ally of pulling a “racist” stunt at the Cohen hearing.

Perhaps no tribute—from a Democrat or a Republican—was as reverential as that of Gowdy, who said Cummings was “one of the most powerful, beautiful, and compelling voices in American politics.

“We never had a cross word outside of a committee room,” Gowdy, another former GOP chairman of the Oversight Committee, said in a lengthy Twitter thread this morning. “He had a unique ability to separate the personal from the work.” He recalled a story Cummings often told of a school employee who urged him to abandon his dream of becoming a lawyer and opt for a job “with his hands not his mind.” That employee would later become Cummings’s first client, Gowdy wrote.

“We live in an age where we see people on television a couple of times and we think we know them and what they are about,” the Republican said.

Cummings died at a Maryland hospice center from what his office said were “complications concerning longstanding health challenges.” He had spent months in the hospital after heart and knee surgeries in 2017 and got around in a wheelchair, but there was little public indication of how serious his condition was in the weeks before his death.

In Baltimore, Cummings’s legacy will extend far beyond his work on the House’s chief investigatory committee. He was first elected to Congress in 1996, after 13 years in the Maryland state legislature. After the death of Freddie Gray in the back of a police van in 2015, Cummings walked through West Baltimore with a bullhorn in an attempt to quell the unrest from angry and distraught black citizens. In March 2017, at a time when most Democrats were denouncing the Trump administration on an hourly basis, Cummings met with the new president at the White House in a bid to work with him on a bill to lower drug prices. As my colleague Peter Nicholas recounted earlier this year, the two men fell into a candid talk about race, but little came of the effort on prescription drugs.

Democrats tapped Cummings to be their leader on the Oversight and Government Reform Committee in 2010, after Republicans retook the House majority. He was not the next in line, but the party pushed out the veteran Representative Edolphus Towns of New York over concerns that he’d be too laid-back at a time when Republicans were preparing an onslaught of investigations into Barack Obama’s administration.

The oversight panel is a highly partisan committee in a highly partisan Congress, and Cummings had no illusions about his role. Still, he tried to forge relationships with each of his Republican counterparts, and some of those attempts were successful. As the combative Representative Darrell Issa of California was ending his run as chairman in 2014, Cummings traveled to Utah to bond with Chaffetz, Issa’s likely successor. “I want a relationship which will allow us to get things done,” Cummings said during a joint appearance the two made on MSNBC’s Morning Joe. After Chaffetz left, Cummings got along well—at least in private—with Gowdy and Meadows.

Yet time and again, the cordiality behind closed doors succumbed to rancor in front of the cameras. The relationships Cummings and his Republican counterparts had were no match for these deeply divided times; they yielded few legislative breakthroughs or bipartisan alliances in the midst of highly polarized investigations.

By early 2019, any hope that Cummings may have had of working with conservatives in Congress, or with the Trump administration, seemed to have given way to frustration, and occasionally anger. At the end of Cohen’s testimony, he delivered an emotional plea to his colleagues. “When we’re dancing with the angels, the question will be asked: In 2019, what did we do to make sure we kept our democracy intact?” he said, his voice booming. “C’mon now, we can do two things at once. We have to get back to normal!”

As for Trump, two years after their candid talk on race, the president was viciously attacking Cummings as a “brutal bully” and blaming him for Baltimore’s long-running struggle with poverty and crime.

Two months later, Cummings joined the growing chorus of Democrats calling for Trump’s impeachment. “When the history books are written about this tumultuous era,” he said at the time, “I want them to show that I was among those in the House of Representatives who stood up to lawlessness and tyranny.”

In truth, he had long since realized that the effort to work with the president had been futile. “Now that I watch his actions,” Cummings told Nicholas, “I don’t think it made any difference.”

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Elijah Cummings Was Not Done

The House Oversight chairman died too soon at 68, while working on his deathbed to ensure this country measured up to his standards

By JAMIL SMITH | Published October 18, 2019 | Rolling Stone | Posted October 25, 2019 |

Even with the deaths of our elders today and the 400th anniversary of chattel slavery, we are often reminded that this terrible American past is within the reach of our oral, recorded history. Elijah Cummings, who died Thursday at 68, was the grandson of sharecroppers, the black tenant farmers who rented land from white owners after the Civil War.

Cummings once recounted to 60 Minutes that, when he was sworn into Congress in 1996 following a special election in Maryland’s 7th District, his father teared up. A typical, uplifting American story would be a son talking about his dad’s pride at such a moment, and there was that. But Cummings’ father, Ron, also asked him a series of questions.

Isn’t this the place where they used to call us slaves? “Yes, sir.”

Isn’t this the place where they used to call us three-fifths of a man? “Yes, sir.”

Isn’t this the place where they used to call us chattel? “Yes, sir.”

Then Ron told his son Elijah, according to the story: Now I see what I could have been had I had an opportunity. Forget the Horatio Alger narratives; that is a story of generational ascendance that actually sounds relatable to me as someone who has grown up black in America.

Sixty-eight should be too early for anyone to die in the era of modern medicine, but it somehow didn’t feel premature for Cummings. It wouldn’t feel premature for me, either. Racism kills us black men and women faster, that much has been documented. Cummings had seen the consequences of racism in the mirror every day since he was 11, bearing a scar from an attack by a white mob when he and a group of black boys integrated the public (and ostensibly desegregated) pool in South Baltimore. Perhaps a shorter life was simply an American reality to which he had consigned himself. Or, he had just read the science.

When speculation rumbled about whether he would run for the Senate in 2015, Cummings spoke openly about his own life expectancy.

“When you reach 64 years old and you look at the life expectancy of an African-American man, which is 71.8 years, I ask myself, if I don’t say it now, when am I going to say it?” Cummings said, referring at the time to combative rants and snips at Republicans whom he perceived to be wasting the public’s time and money with nonsense like the Benghazi hearings.

He continued to speak up for what he considered was just, not just when president did wrong but also when it involved the police. The bullhorn seemed to never leave his hand and his voice never seemed to die out in the wake of Freddie Gray’s death at the hands of Baltimore cops in 2015. His willingness to speak up not just in defense of America but of us black Americans is why the passing of Cummings was a puncturing wound for anyone hoping for this nation to be true to what it promises on paper to all of its people.

Worse, Cummings’ death leaves a void. Only a few members of his own party have been as willing to speak as frankly as Cummings, or take as immediate action against the grift and madness that Republicans pass off as governance. “We are better than this!” was one of his frequent exhortations, and I am not sure that we were.

It is tempting, and lazy, to encapsulate the Cummings legacy within the last few years. Pointing to his deft handling of his Republican “friend” Mark Meadows’ racist call-out of Rashida Tlaib in February or his grace in dealing with President Trump’s petulant insults about his beloved Baltimore even as he used his House Oversight powers to help begin perhaps the most significant impeachment inquiry yet launched into an American head of state. But there was more to the man and his patriotism than his pursuit of a corrupt president.

Cummings was, as his widow, Maryland Democratic Party chairwoman Maya Rockeymoore Cummings, put it in her statement, working “until his last breath.” In a memo just last week, as he was ailing, Cummings stated he planned to subpoena both acting USCIS Director Ken Cuccinelli and acting ICE Director Matthew Albence to testify on October 17, the day he would later pass away. (Both men agreed to testify, voluntarily, but the hearing has been postponed until the 24th.)

Cummings also signed two subpoenas driven to him in Baltimore hours before his death, both dealing with the Trump administration’s coldhearted policy change to temporarily end the ability for severely ill immigrants to seek care in the United States.

One of the young immigrant patients who had testified to a House Oversight subcommittee about this draconian Trump measure, a Honduran teenager named Jonathan Sanchez, told the assembled lawmakers, simply, “I don’t want to die.”

Cummings knew all too well that this is a country that kills people with its racism, and saw this president trying to do it. He went to his deathbed trying to change that America. His untimely death left that work undone, but that task is ours now.

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