An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
As if something snapped, Quackity shouted loud enough to rouse the trees, “You’re not the fucking boss of me! You’re my fucking fiancé— that trumps anything else, doesn’t it!? Find a new fucking Vice President for all I care— get someone who will do whatever you say just like you want! Fine! But we are engaged!” He held up his hand and pointed to the ring on his finger in accusation, “And you having a higher position over me doesn’t change that you said you fucking love me, okay!?”
Schlatt, for once, seemed stunned into silence, as though he never thought Quackity to be capable of such an outburst. He blinked cartoonishly, bottle and pickaxe limp at his sides, and Karl swelled with pride, holding in a whoop of joy. That was his baby! Maybe he wouldn’t even need to step in, if Quackity seemed like he had it handled.
And then Schlatt started to laugh.
It was a flat, limp, disbelieving laugh as he quietly— too quietly— mumbled, “Yeah? You’re not my Vice President anymore?”
Quackity, straightening with newfound confidence, crossed his arms and shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah, you know what? Fuck it. I quit.”
“... Then get off my property.”
Chapter 11 of BYAIWABBT is out now! Read the rest on AO3 :]