PENGUIN.

@murderbirdz

OSWALD COBBLEPOT THE PENGUIN ❝ what drives you? what's your passion? when you know what a man loves, you know what can kill him. written by sophie (she/her. 21. gmt.) est. 28.11.16 var fhs = document.createElement('script');var fhs_id = "5408891"; var ref = (''+document.referrer+'');var pn = window.location;var w_h = window.screen.width + " x " + window.screen.height; fhs.src = "//s1.freehostedscripts.net/ocounter.php?site="+fhs_id+"&e1=holding an umbrella&e2=holding an umbrella&r="+ref+"&wh="+w_h+"&a=1&pn="+pn+""; document.head.appendChild(fhs);document.write("");

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Cage The Elephant : Too Late To Say Goodbye

#music.#about ed.

lcdyblckhawk:

“What happened to your leg? Looks bothersome.” @murderbirdz

“That’s none of your concern, ma’am. Do you always ask such rude questions to strangers?”

#c.#lcdyblckhawk

edxnygma:

“You did try to shoot me.” Ed reminded, laughing slightly - not exactly sure why. But the thought of his best friend having someone shoot him was amusing to him. “I told you already, I would never betray you.” He added factually.

“I’m glad I can do the job justice.” Edward nodded. “And I’m glad that I can be here to help.”

Oswald emulated Ed’s laugh, but it was without warmth. “Yes, I did, didn’t I?” he said. What on earth was funny about that? He had almost had Butch kill Ed, and that was almost impossible to believe. He’d acted rashly, out of impulse and hurt. But now? Now he couldn’t imagine even trying to hurt Ed.

“Of course you can do the job justice, Ed,” he said, and it was supposed to come as a compliment, but it sounded a little wearisome. This conversation was physically draining. Every time one of them mentioned the partnership, it reminded Oswald of the cataclysmic misunderstanding. He was tired of being embarrassed.

“I’m glad too, old friend. You’ll make a splendid partner.” He picked up his mug and blew on the drink, to cool it down. “Can I ask...” he began, after a moment. “Do you want your ascension to merely be a legal one? Or were you thinking of being partners in the criminal world as well?”

It had been playing on his mind. If Ed wanted to get established, then, of course, Oswald would help. But he didn’t know what Ed wanted. As he’d said to Jessica, that was kind of the whole problem.

#c.#edxnygma

robberofatms:

Len pulled up to the mansion on his bike, rolling his eyes at how extravagant it was. It got him every time and he could never help himself. He swung off his bike, walking up to the door, before knocking, skipping pass the doorbell. The sound echoed through the large house as Len waited, wondering what the hell Cobblepot needed that was so urgent.

@murderbirdz

Oswald sat at the table, staring out the window, and waited impatiently for Len to arrive. The rumours he’d heard could have been dismissed as nothing but hearsay, but he couldn’t simply ignore them. So he waited, sipping his glass of wine occasionally. He considered sending Len away and simply getting drunk alone, but that would do no good. He had to face this.

He flinched when the doorbell rang, and stood up, eager to beat Olga to the door. He walked there as fast as he could without the aid of his cane, the slight twinge in his leg actually serving as a welcome distraction.

“Hello, old friend,” he said, ushering Len in quickly and glancing out into the garden, before slamming the door shut. “I take it you weren’t followed?” he asked, walking back into the office, expecting Len to follow without needing to request it.

#c.#robberofatms

akafuckyou:

( ✉ → pete wentz wants his haircut back): t(^^t) ( ✉ → pete wentz wants his haircut back): no but i am easily pissed off. d o n t threaten me over a stupid nickname ( ✉ → pete wentz wants his haircut back): perks of being self employed. also no, i dont have any cases at this exact second. y? u got one for me? ( ✉ → pete wentz wants his haircut back): & nice subject change. u 2 r gonna give me a goddamn complex

[TEXT: JESSICA JONES]: Then don’t call me a stupid nickname.

[TEXT: JESSICA JONES]: No, I might in the future, but not right now.

[TEXT: JESSICA JONES]: Us 2? You’ve been texting Ed??

#text.#akafuckyou

edxnygma:

“You would have still won the campaign, Oswald, it just would have been because you had the election rigged.” Edward shrugged. “Like I said when it happened - I believed that you could do it, and I proved it too.” He added.

“Alright then, looks like we don’t really have any issue then.” He stated. “Yes of course. I’ll help out in whatever way I can, of course.”

“Yes,” Oswald replied. “You did prove it. I thought I’d misjudged you, but you never betrayed me.” It was strange, thinking back to that night. How quickly he had ordered Butch to shoot Ed in the face, in front of all those witnesses. They hadn’t mattered. He’d been betrayed, by the one person he thought was his friend.

What was it that Ed had said? A man with nothing that he loves is a man who cannot be betrayed. It was horribly portentous, looking back. Oswald slid his mug a little closer to him, but didn’t drink any yet.

“Excellent,” he said, brightly. “It’ll certainly be a relief, not having to worry about that moron I replaced you with. I would have fired him soon anyway, even if you hadn’t requested your job back.”

#c.#edxnygma

HEADCANON Oswald attended an all boys Catholic school during his teenage years. Gertrude claimed to be a Catholic, though not a practising one, and Oswald received a rather sporadic religious upbringing until he went to the school. His understanding of God was rather distant and abstract. The God of Oswald’s childhood was a tyrannical, cruel, dispenser of justice.

When he attended school, he received a more comprehensive, Biblical-based, religious education. However, Oswald has never believed in God in a tangible way, though he was attracted to the romantic Medievalist ideas of Heaven and Hell, and the psychology behind religion.

Since turning to a criminal lifestyle, and murdering countless people, Oswald has pondered, slightly more, on the prospect of Hell. Not for very long, though.

#[imagine oswald cobblepot at a modern american high school though]#headcanon.

akafuckyou:

( ✉ → pete wentz wants his haircut back): i know wut boys liiiike. i know wut guys waaaant ( ✉ → pete wentz wants his haircut back): its not, but u woke me up & im a nosey bitch. ( ✉ → pete wentz wants his haircut back): plus my inbox is full of u 2 asking about each other which is just fcking sad how did i get dragged into this shit ( ✉ → pete wentz wants his haircut back): jfc pengs

[TEXT: JESSICA JONES]: Except I don’t know what boys like. That’s kind of the whole problem.

[TEXT: JESSICA JONES]: Yeah. Nosy bitch. That sums you up perfectly.

[TEXT: JESSICA JONES]: Don’t call me Pengs. You’re not indispensable.

[TEXT: JESSICA JONES]: You were asleep at this time of day? Don’t you have a job to go to?

#[oswald is no position to judge jessica's life choices tbh]#text.#akafuckyou

✘

🐧 — send a symbol for a text!

✘ for a HATEFUL text

[TEXT: CLARK KENT]: If you keep misrepresenting me in articles, I’ll have you killed.

[TEXT: CLARK KENT]: If you keep misrepresenting me in articles, I’ll have you sued.

#[this is like the /what he says vs. what he means/ meme]#[in text form]#question.#answered meme.#text.#thatbigblueidiot

akafuckyou:

( ✉ → pete wentz wants his haircut back): i’ll have u know that my ringtone 4 u is hysterical ( ✉ → pete wentz wants his haircut back): texting the bf? u 2 make up yet?

[TEXT: JESSICA JONES]: I’m sure it’s something stupid.

[TEXT: JESSICA JONES]: I thought that wasn’t any concern of yours.

[TEXT: JESSICA JONES]: No. I’ve offered him his old job back, and he’s taken me up on that offer.

[TEXT: JESSICA JONES]: And he’s not my boyfriend.

#[I KNOW WHAT BOYS LIKE]#[I KNOW WHAT GUYS WANT]#text.#akafuckyou

edxnygma:

“I assume you probably know quite a bit about me, Oswald.” Edward said, though it came out a little more bitter than he had intended. He sighed in relief when Olga entered it room; it meant that tension was diffused, if only for a few seconds.

Edward folded his arms, to appear nonchalant, and then leaned forwards slightly. “I’m not sure.” He admitted. “I just thought it would be better if we worked together - in sync, instead of you doing all of the stressful, important work and me just working behind the scenes. But if that doesn’t work for you I’m sure we could find some sort of arrangement.”

Ed’s reply was so cutting that Oswald’s smile disappeared immediately. He didn’t seem angry, exactly, but there was definitely bitterness there. The message was clear. Ed wasn’t comfortable being friendly yet. That was perfectly fine. That made sense. He didn’t know what to say in response to the sharp comment, so he waited until Ed had made his pitch, before replying.

“Your work was important, Ed. I wouldn’t have won the campaign were it not for you.” He wouldn’t have lasted a single day in his position if it wasn’t for Ed, though to say so, now, would have been tantamount to suicide. He nodded. “Of course that works for me. Anything you want access to -- files, schedules, and such-like -- it’s yours.”

He hesitated. “Obviously, I’m going to have to be the public face. I am the Mayor of Gotham, after all. But we’ll be equals in everything but title.” He had never pegged Ed for someone who was after power, but, apparently, he hardly knew his old friend at all.

#c.#edxnygma

edxnygma:

It was not Ed’s intention to make the ordeal seem awkward, but he couldn’t help it - he was doing little things subconsciously that increased the tension in the room, and he couldn’t stop himself from doing something he wasn’t even aware he was doing.

He looked over at the chair, before walking over to it and sitting down. “You know what - a coffee would be fantastic.” He nodded.

It was a strange relief when Ed sat down. At least Oswald didn’t have to watch him standing there, so painfully awkward that he would have been embarrassed for his friend, were it not simultaneously endearing and irksome. Oswald sat up straighter in his chair, where he’d slid down a little, and reached for the bell. He rang for Olga and then put it down.

“I knew you’d say that,” he said fondly, and then regretted it. What was he doing? He looked down at the mail until Olga arrived moments later. He glanced up and said, politely, “Good morning. If you wouldn’t mind getting us two coffees, please, Olga? And then see that we aren’t disturbed for the rest of the morning.” His mother had always told him to be polite to anyone who served him, and he took that advice on board (in his non-criminal life, anyway).

When she left, Oswald turned to Ed. “So... when you asked to be partners,” he began. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

#[someone stop these two]#c.#edxnygma