46 “If you love it so much, then why don’t you marry it?” - Nygmobs with (if it fits the prompt in your mind, it's ok if not) Edward the dog? :D
(this just turned out utterly ridiculous... I’m sorry?)
The dog’s name was Edward.
It was so damned confusing.
Most of the time Ed had no clue who Oswald was talking to, since at some point he had apparently adopted the habit of talking to the dog as if he were a human who could respond -- Ed didn’t dwell on that fact too much.
And if it wasn’t that, then it was baby talk. So much baby talk.
It was disgusting.
Also still weirdly confusing, but in a different way. Not that he would admit that out loud to another living soul. Ever.
Anyway, the point was that Ed had slowly been responding less and less to his first name, because if Oswald really wanted his attention and was frustrated enough by the lack of acknowledgement, he would just indignantly holler, “Edward Nygma!” And then there was no confusion as to which of them he meant.
The method wasn’t perfect, but it got results. That was all that mattered. Now if he could only figure out a way to put a stop to all the baby talk....
As if summoned by his thoughts, Oswald appeared carting the aforementioned bulldog in his arms and using that ridiculous voice as he so often did.
“That dog is spoiled,” Ed found himself saying. Almost childishly... almost resentfully.
“He’s not spoiled!” Oswald protested, clutching the dog protectively to him. “He’s loved.”
“Well, if you love Edward so much, then why don’t you marry him?” he mocked under his breath. That was childish. Like they were nothing more than children at recess. What was wrong with him?
Oswald looked at him shrewdly. In that calculating way of his that usually meant trouble. This did not bode well. It was probably too late for an escape. Damn it.
Setting the dog down gently, Oswald made his way to where Ed was sitting and primly took a seat next to him. He laced his fingers on his lap and gave Ed a small, knowing smile.
“Ed,” he started lightly. This was definitely not good. “You’re jealous.”
“Of what?”
“Of Edward.”
He snorted. “I’m not jealous of a dog, Oswald.”
“But I think you are,” Oswald sing-songed. “Why would I marry my dog, Ed?”
“Because it’s a childish insult usually reserved for mocking people’s adoration of inanimate objects or food. You would never actually marry your dog. That’s the point.” Did he really need to explain this to Oswald?
“Yet.” He held up a finger, still smiling. “That was the first thing to come to your mind, Ed. And you actually called him ‘Edward.’“ He leaned back and spread his hands, as if his resting his case.
He also looked utterly pleased with himself. Ed frowned.
“I have no--” He cut himself off when it dawned on him what Oswald was actually insinuating. Ed’s eyes went wide as he shot to his feet. “I do not want to marry you!”
“Are you sure?” Oswald drug out the last word as if it had eight syllables. He then batted his eyes as if he were cute. He was not cute.
Ed could feel the panic starting to rise. Not that he had any reason to panic. This was all extremely ridiculous and meant nothing and Oswald was just-- Oswald. That was it!
He narrowed his eyes. “Why are you so fixated on this, Oswald? Maybe it’s the other way around, hm?”
Oswald sighed and rolled his eyes, but didn’t respond.
Silence fell over them, and only then did Ed realize this was less a battle of wits and more like a game of chicken. Who would break first, and what would it mean when they did? Ed tried to figure out which option was the best, but none of them seemed satisfactory.
The longer he thought, the longer the quiet stretched out between them, and the more comfortable he got. Finally, he couldn’t stand it anymore. So he turned on his heel and fled. A chicken indeed.
“Oh, Ed?” Oswald called after him, a smile in his voice. “If you love me so much, then why don’t you marry me?”
“MAYBE I WILL!?” he bellowed as he whirled back around.
Oswald looked like that cat that ate the canary, a smug smile slowly lifting the corners of his mouth. Ed realized there was no turning back now, no logical way out. And... maybe for once that was okay?
