Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Branch and Poppy made sure to be careful as they helped Floyd straight toward Rhonda, moving him to the back as soon as they were on her and sitting him down on the couch. The others followed, John Dory moving to the back as well and finding out a blanket. The pink and white haired Troll curled up in it as soon as it was placed over him. His complaints over how cold he was immediately dissipated.

Branch sat down to Floyd’s right as Bruce, Clay and Viva made their way towards the back. Tiny Diamond was fast asleep in Bruce’s hands, snoring away. Rhonda had since started on her way back towards Pop Village with help from something Poppy gave to John for Rhonda to sniff and find her way to the Village.

“How are you feeling?”

“A mixture of fatigue and tiredness.” Floyd rested one of his hands across his forehead. “My head hurts and I need rest.”

“And a drink, obviously,” John interrupted, holding up a mug. “You want a cup of water?”

Floyd shook his head. “No thanks. Tea’s fine.”

John shrugged and nodded, turning to boil his kettle. As he waited for it to finish, he turned back to Floyd. “Want anything to eat at least?”

“No. I only want tea.”

When the kettle finished, John Dory stepped back towards it and poured the tea before turning back to Floyd and passing it to him. He gave him a rather stern warning as he did so, “Don’t spill it.”

Floyd nodded and took a sip. A rather large one, leading to simultaneous concern growing on everyone’s faces. He paused, putting his cup down on the couch beside him and looking around at everyone with a relatively confused look on his face.

“I’m just really thirsty,” was the first thing he said when a brief silence hit the air.

“I can tell,” Bruce observed. “Two months of getting your talent stolen did that to you, right?”

Floyd nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s the only symptom?”

Floyd shook his head. “I’m freezing,” he said. “And, like I said earlier, still headachy. Still fatigued. Still tired. Still in need of rest, food and drink.”

“And your body is aching even more?”

Floyd draped an arm across his forehead to look dramatic. “Prepare for the nightmares, Branch.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Branch huffed.

“No, no, dude,” Clay said. “Isn’t it completely normal to have nightmares after anything traumatic?”

“He’s right. I remember Branch ranting on about all those nightmares he had starting from age four without giving me any further details,” Poppy said. “Even when I tried to ask.”

“Poppy, there were things I didn’t want to tell you about my childhood.”

“Well, I know them now.”

Clay patted his business partner on the back. “And Viva here had constant nightmares after the Great Bergen Attack.”

“Which was obviously a few months after my nightmares began,” Branch said after a brief silence. “Also Bergen related.”

Floyd let out another yawn. “What’s a Bergen?”

Oh boy. How were they going to explain this? Branch turned his attention to Poppy, gesturing to Floyd. 

“They were these large creatures that thought that the only way they could be happy was to eat Trolls,” Poppy explained, as calmly as she could, as she looked at Floyd. “Don’t worry though. They stopped.”

“Glad I wasn’t there. It’d have been disastrous.”

Agitation crossed Branch’s face. “So you’re glad that you weren’t there at a time when I needed you most?”

Floyd held his hands up, his blanket falling off a little bit. “No, no, Branch. I didn’t mean that. I’m glad you’re safe. I’m glad grandma—”

Before Floyd could finish his sentence, Clay was quick to interrupt him. 

“Grandma wasn’t safe, dude.”

“What?”

“Yeah, bro,” Bruce confirmed. “Branch told us she got eaten and he was left alone without anyone to take care of him.”

Tears started to stream down the sides of Floyd’s face, which didn’t help his headache. It only made it worse. He really should’ve stayed. Everyone looked at one another before turning back to Floyd. None of them had a chance to say anything when Floyd buried his head in his hands, blanket falling off completely and ending up in a pile on the floor in front of him.

Poppy put a hand on Floyd’s shoulder. “Floyd, are you okay?”

“No! I’m not! I broke my promise!”

“Floyd, come on,” Bruce said. “It was just a mistake.”

The tears increased. “Just a mistake? It’s too late to go back in time and fix things.”

“It takes time. I’ll forgive you and the others eventually.”

Floyd tried to wipe away his tears, but they just kept flowing. “Eventually doesn’t cut it, Branch. I messed up.”

“This is worsening your current condition.” Clay picked up the blanket and draped it around Floyd’s shoulders.

“Does it matter? I’m an idiot.”

Branch draped an arm around his fourth older brother’s shoulder. “You’re not an idiot.”

“I left you alone,” Floyd muttered, breathing heavy, tone stressed. “Without back up.”

He even ignored the fact that he was close to fainting. But his brothers all picked up on that immediately, glancing at each 

“Floyd, you’re stressing out and you look pale,” Branch stated. “We need to get you to a doctor.”

And that’s when the pink and white haired Troll fell forwards, Branch and Bruce moving to quickly catch him before anything could happen. Before he could hit his head. Working together, they lifted him up and rested him back down the couch.

“Okay, we’re heading back to Pop Village now!”

“Branch, we’re almost there!” Branch looked up. When had Poppy gotten up to the front of Rhonda?

The others all rushed to the front of Rhonda, Branch helping Floyd, as the armadillo bus stopped outside of it to not scare any of the tribe. Everyone exited Rhonda, her following behind as they entered the village. But they didn’t go any farther into it.

The brothers stopped and turned their attention to Poppy and Viva.

“You go straight to your dad!” Branch was the first to say. “We’ll get Floyd to a doctor!”

Poppy and Viva nodded as they separated from the brothers and both sets of siblings ran off in two opposite directions. They found their father in the center of the village, the group of elder Trolls that he was talking to falling silent as they spotted them, covering their mouths in shock. King Peppy barely had any time to even turn around when he was tackled to the ground by an excited Viva, ending up on his back on the ground. 

“DADDY!!!”

“…Viva?”

Chapter Text

King Peppy couldn’t help but cry a little, remaining laying on his back on the for he didn’t know how long. Twenty one years. Twenty one years and he never thought he’d see his older daughter again.

Yet here she was, sitting on top of him with an excited look on her face.

He barely had a chance to say anything else when Poppy walked over to them and put a hand on Viva’s shoulder. Whispering to her to get off their father and allow him to stand up and give him a chance to breathe.

Viva got off of him to allow him to do both of those things as he turned to glance between his daughters. Both of the girls had matching indiscernible looks on their faces. Still, that didn’t stop him from pulling Viva into a hug and when Peppy pulled out of it, he turned his attention to Poppy.

The first thing he could think of saying was, “Where in the world did you even find her?”

“In an old abandoned golf course, dad,” Poppy said, after a brief moment of silence, putting a hand on Viva’s shoulder. “But that’s not important right now. What’s important right now is you kept yet another secret from me.”

King Peppy looked down, twiddling his thumbs, before looking directly at Poppy. “I’m sorry, Poppy. I wanted to tell you. I…just couldn’t bring myself to.” 

“Dad.”

A sad smile crossed Peppy’s face as he turned to Viva. “I had a broken heart thinking I lost you forever.” He paused briefly. “Why didn’t you come looking for us?”

“I wanted to so many times. I just couldn’t because of danger.”

Poppy let out a soft chuckle. “It took you an hour and a half to realize the Bergens weren’t bad anymore and join the rest of of us on our mission to save Floyd along with Bridget and Gristle.”

“Walk and talk?” Peppy suggested, changing the subject.

His daughters shared a look, before nodding and looking back at him.

He turned around and began to make his way over towards Pop Village’s marketplace with both of the sisters following, most of the older Trolls who spotted them all falling silent. Either covering their mouths or whispering to each other. Some younger Trolls that were with them, who were very likely their grandchildren, were all just confused and wondering what was going on.

“How many Trolls got separated from the rest of the tribe?” Peppy asked as soon as his fellow elders all turned their attention away from them and went back to what they were doing in the marketplace.

“Quite a lot of the tribe. Too many to count,” Viva said as she looked at her father with a small smile. 

A brief silence hit, breaking when Peppy continued, “How did you end up far away from the rest of us?”

“We got separated from everyone else because we were currently busy fighting off Bergens who were close to eating us and the tunnels ended up becoming collapsed by then,” Viva was quick to explain. “We had to go a different way because of that. And that’s how we ended up living in an old abandoned Bergen golf course.”

“Forget about that,” Poppy said. “There better not be any more secrets you’ve kept hidden from me. A string I didn’t know existed. Other tribes I didn’t know existed and now Viva? You’ve really got to stop hiding things from me.”

Peppy nodded in understanding. “No more secrets.”

“And I’m sure the older members of the tribe will excited to see you after all this time,” Poppy said, changing the subject as she glanced at her older sister. She lowered her voice. “As long as I don’t end up giving up my title of Queen to you, after being Queen for at least a year now. Even though you’re older.”

Viva nodded, adding, “You’re not going to do that. Dad obviously made you Queen because he thought I was gone and the whole Tribe needed someone to take over from him as their leader.”

Poppy turned out to be right with her first statement, as some of the older Trolls came to crowd around them. Attention mainly focused on Viva.

“Are my children okay?” one Troll asked.

“What about my daughter?” another asked.

A third asked, “Do you know if I have any grandchildren?”

Then a fourth showed up. “Are my parents okay? I’d really like them to meet their grandchildren.”

“I want my parents to meet their grandchildren too.”

“Same here.”

“My kids want to meet their grandparents,” a seventh said. “Could you make that possible?”

Followed by an eighth. “Are my wife and children okay?”

“Woah, one question at a time,” Viva said, holding her hands up. “I barely have time to answer and I only just found this place.”

The crowd quieted down at that, finally giving Viva enough time to think to herself and provide an answer for all of them.

“Those who were separated are fine,” she finally said after a brief moment of silence, glancing around at everyone. “Clay and I will make sure to get them all here and reunited with you as soon as possible.”

All eight Trolls sported looks of relief and thankfulness as they turned away to go right back to what they were doing and give the family of three more time to talk. They all went over to the center of the marketplace, stepping towards a craft supplies stall where the sisters got some candy and string for later on. Things were silent for a moment, then Viva turned.

“I want a milkshake and ice cream!” Viva announced as she ran off when she spotted the ice cream cart in the distance.

Poppy ran off after her, chuckling. “You can’t have both!”

“I can and I am, hermana!”

Poppy finally managed to catch up. “You get a milkshake and I get an ice cream!”

“Both of you should get ice cream!” Peppy shouted out as he ran off after them.

By the time he’d gotten there, both of his daughters had already ordered funfetti ice cream (and a strawberry milkshake that Viva’d finished within seconds) and were sitting on the grass over near the ice cream cart and waiting for him. He said nothing as he made his way over towards the ice cream cart to order his own ice cream before joining them. Sitting on the grass in front of them, taking a few bites of his ice cream. 

Peppy had only managed to take a few bites of his ice cream when his daughters glanced at each other in a ‘you thinking what I’m thinking’ sort of way, matching smirks crossing their faces. Their father hardly had enough time to say anything when they flicked the topmost scoops of their own ice creams at him. 

Very clearly for the fun of it. 

Very clearly to have a good laugh. 

Peppy didn’t bother to wipe it off, letting out a soft chuckle. One that his daughters echoed after a brief silence. Even if it eventually became louder and more consistent between the three of them.

It wasn’t until Poppy and Viva stood up, refusing to clean the ice cream out of their hair, that Peppy looked confused. “Girls…?”

“We just remembered that we gotta go check on Floyd at the hospital and make sure he’s doing okay,” Poppy said, as she and Viva grabbed Peppy’s hands, after he was done with his own chocolate ice cream and pulling him along. But not before Poppy told Viva where the hospital was.

They’d all gotten there immediately, the sisters rushing straight inside as soon as they let go of their father’s hands, leaving him to walk in after the two of them. When they entered the hospital, they found the brothers in its waiting room either pacing or sitting. Maybe talking as they waited. Things went silent momentarily, breaking when Poppy and Viva came over to join the brothers and Peppy leaned up against a wall across from them.

“Is everything okay? Is Floyd okay?” Poppy asked, immediately grabbing the brothers’ attention and causing them all to look at her, Viva and King Peppy.

“We should be getting some news about his condition soon,” Branch was the first to say as he thought back to that. Even though it happened just a half hour earlier. How they’d all rushed straight into the hospital right as a patient was fully discharged, startling the Trolls sitting at the front desk and grabbing their attention immediately.

How John, Bruce and Clay were quick to explain the situation in full before Branch transferred a still faint Floyd to the arms of the first available nurse who had come out to get him back there. 

How they’d been told they’d get news soon. 

“Where’s Tiny?” Poppy asked, immediately changing the subject.

“We had to briefly stop in the marketplace in order to reunite him and Guy Diamond before we could turn around and get Floyd straight here. Guy was, of course, pretty mad about the whole thing but at the same time relieved that Tiny was okay,” Branch was the first to say. “We explained everything to him too.”

“I offered to give him some much needed tips for being a father whenever he needs them,” Bruce continued, nodding, after what seemed like a brief silence. “He’s thankful for all that.”

Branch was silent for a moment. “Because of this, he said Tiny was going to be an only child,” he explained.

Poppy glanced off to the side. “Makes sense.” She changed the subject back to what it was earlier on. “Like I’d asked earlier, is Floyd going to be okay?”

“Like Branch said, we’re still waiting on news,” Clay said. “They took Floyd straight back to a hospital room just as soon as we explained the whole situation to them.” He turned to glance at Viva. “Were any of the older tribe members surprised to see Viva for the first time in years?”

“A small group stopped her to ask if their family members who never made it out of the tunnels were alive and well when they all saw her,” Peppy said as he shared a glance with his older daughter.

Clay played with his bracelets. “Guess we’re going to work on moving the Putt Putts out of the golf course and to Pop Village sometime soon.”

King Peppy hummed to himself. “It might be best if we did that now.”

“Now?” Clay uttered, scratching at his neck as a look of confusion made its way across his face. “It might take us some time to do it…since…”

“Since the golf course was all the younger Putt Putt Trolls who were born there knew, dad,” Viva explained, when Clay fully trailed off. “They’re not going to want to move to a new and unfamiliar place. We can’t take that away from them.”

Poppy moved to stand right next to Viva, putting a hand on her shoulder and causing her older sister to glance in her direction. “But remember how some of the older members of the Tribe told you they want to meet their grandchildren?”

“And you’re right.” Viva glanced at Clay, giving him a look that he mirrored within moments. “Should we bring the Putt Putt Trolls all back here in one group at a time or all at once?” 

Clay rolled his eyes. “One group at a time, Viva,” he grumbled as he turned towards his oldest brother. “John, do you mind if we borrow Rhonda for a bit? After Floyd’s out of the hospital?”

John Dory pulled his ski goggles on over his eyes just for the sake of being amusing, causing everyone else to fall silent momentarily. “Only if you tell me how many Putt Putts there are.”

“Fifty. Fifty two if you count me and Viva.”

John Dory held his hands up. “Wha?” he uttered out loud, glancing at his second younger brother out of stunned confusion and silence. “Rhonda’s going to get overcrowded, Clay.”

Clay folded his arms, glaring directly at him. “Not if we separate them into five groups of ten, dude.”

Chapter Text

For the two and a half days Floyd was in the hospital, Branch’d been at work setting up rooms for him and their other brothers. 

Well, it was just in case John, Bruce and Clay needed rooms in Branch’s bunker. Floyd was going to be moving there permanently whilst John Dory decided to switch between sleeping in Rhonda and the bunker. 

Bruce had decided to stay in the bunker whenever he visited Pop Village instead of sleeping in his own pod near the bunker or in Rhonda. Despite requests from Poppy and from John. 

Clay decided to stay in a pod right in the center of Pop Village that he’d share with Viva sometimes whilst very rarely sleeping in the bunker.

Branch was very much done with Floyd’s bedroom by the time his fourth older brother was released from the hospital, making sure to be extra careful as he got him off of Rhonda and straight over towards the bunker with Poppy following behind the two of them, the instructions to help Floyd fully recover in her hands. 

She freed one hand to pull the hatch door to the bunker closed as soon as she entered it, getting to the elevator immediately and going down further into the bunker.

“What even happened to the rooms that were originally meant for you and your brothers?” she asked as soon as she made her way down the hallway at the bottom of the bunker and glanced at both walls as she made her way right over to the kitchen to put the instructions and meds for Floyd’s recovery on the table. 

“Well, those rooms are full from the top to bottom with things that I have yet to remove,” Branch stated calmly as he passed a freshly made cup of tea to Floyd to drink, attention not focused on Poppy momentarily before turning to face her. “I had to do something different because of this.”

Poppy put her hands on her hips, letting out a chuckle. “The rooms you made for your brothers are four freshly dug out, furnished holes with no doors?”

“I have yet to add doors.”

“Well, you need to add—”

“Doors aren’t necessary, Branch. You and the others need to hear if I have nightmares,” Floyd mumbled tiredly as he picked up the instructions.

A pause. Branch and Poppy turned towards Floyd.

“What do you mean doors aren’t necessary?”

“They just aren’t,” Floyd repeated, more tired, wiping some sweat away from his forehead. “I could have a nightmare, scream in panic, and you won’t be able to hear me. Which is why I don’t need a door for my own room, Branch.”

Branch reached up and rested a hand against his forehead, sighing. “I’ll hear you regardless of whether your bedroom has a door or not.”

“Fine,” Floyd grumbled, groggily. “My room can have a door but don’t add doors to the other ones.”

“All the rooms need doors!”

“Our other brothers aren’t going to stay here as much…” Floyd paused as he rested a hand against his forehead. “Ow.”

“You got a headache?” Branch asked. Floyd nodded and picked up his glass to take a sip of water. And a large one at that.

“Can we change the subject? What exactly happened?” Poppy asked as she and Branch sat down at the table on either side of Floyd. “How were you captured?”

Floyd popped his tablets into his mouth and swallowed them both down with a small sip of the water Branch had given him prior to sitting down without Branch asking or ordering him to do so. “I remember them asking me to be their vocal coach,” he softly explained. “It was nothing but a lie from Velvet because, right after they took me to their dressing room, they put me in the diamond bottle and started stealing my talent.”

Branch put a hand on Floyd’s shoulder. “And during your near death experience?”

Floyd looked up. There was something that his younger brother wanted to know judging by the tone that Branch used when he asked his question. “I saw Grandma, Branch.”

“Was she disappointed in you breaking your promise?” Branch’s voice got louder and louder with each word he spoke. 

“A little,” Floyd readily muttered, taking another sip of his water. “When I explained what happened. I did tell her that I would stay with you and our brothers. That I would apologize and make it up to you. That I’d be there for you for good. And that’s a new promise that I’ll make.”

“So SHE didn’t have time to explain to you how she died?!” Branch’s tone sounded a little aggressive as he spoke.

Poppy stood and walked over to put a hand on her boyfriend’s shoulder in order to calm him. “Branch.”

“No,” Floyd said, pushing his now empty tea cup and water glass towards Branch and giving his younger brother a relieved, thankful smile. “But I’m glad you all did. It does make me regret breaking my promise even more but I’m glad we’re all back together again.”

“Can we change the subject yet again?” Poppy interrupted quickly as she looked directly at Floyd. “I think Branch wants to know about the 22 years of your solo career.”

Branch looked off to the side. “I don’t. Floyd, you can just tell Poppy.”

Floyd shook his head. “No, Branch,” he said. “I can tell both of you.”

Branch rolled his eyes. “I’m sure not much happened during it.”

Floyd was silent for a moment. “I lived in Volcano Rock City for about two years, returned to the Troll Tree and when I found no one there, I decided to experience the rest of my solo career at Mount Rageous.”

“And I was sad the whole entire time you weren’t there to watch me grow up. Do you know how hard it was to raise myself starting from age 4?”

“Branch, I’ll have plenty of time to apologize.”

“Go and settle down in your room,” Branch instructed Floyd, changing the subject for some unknown reason. “I’ll make you something quickly and have Poppy get it to you.”

Floyd chuckled. “The younger brother in charge of the older one? When and why did that happen?”

“Because you’re still recovering,” Branch grumbled, rolling his eyes. He changed the subject yet again. “What do you want to eat?”

Floyd shook his head. “I’m not hungry, Branch.”

“But you do look faint and tired,” Poppy pointed out. “And in clear need of rest.”

“I’m fine, Poppy.”

“Says the one who had his talent stolen up until three days ago.”

“I’m fine,” Floyd repeated.

Branch and Poppy didn’t look convinced at that, the former being quick to point out, “You still look sick.”

A pause. Floyd sighed and went to stand up, but Poppy was quick to urge him back into a sitting position. It was clear to him that Branch and Poppy didn’t want him standing. Not yet at least.

“Guys,” Floyd pleaded. “I need to get up.”

“Floyd, we can’t risk you fainting again.”

“You told me to settle down in my room,” Floyd stressed. It definitely was coming close to causing him to get another headache. 

Branch held a finger up. “No, no, no. Not until you tell me what you want to eat. Unless you want soup.”

“I said I wasn’t hungry.”

“Soup it is.” Branch ignored him as he turned to head back over towards the stove. “Poppy, get Floyd to his room, first one on the right. I’ll come straight over with some soup.”

Poppy nodded and helped Floyd up, getting him straight to his room with no problem. 

By the time Branch’d entered Floyd’s room with a hot bowl of soup in his hands, he found Poppy and Floyd sitting on the latter’s bed. 

Clearly deep in conversation. 

Clearly talking about him. 

Clearly bringing up memories of him. 

He cleared his throat as he stepped further into the room. “You better not be bringing up embarrassing memories of me?”

The conversation stopped in an instant as Floyd and Poppy looked up at him with equal startled expressions. “No, no, Branch,” the former spoke as he held his hands up. “We were bringing up happy memories of you.”

Branch set the soup on the bedside table and refocused his attention on his girlfriend and brother. “How many happy memories?”

“Poppy was asking me about you being in BroZone and I was asking her all about how you were the actual single year you knew each other. How you started being boyfriend and girlfriend over a month ago,” Floyd was quick to say. “How you two got together after the Rockapocalypse.”

“And I was in the middle of telling Floyd that story, Branch,” Poppy laughed as Floyd turned around to grab the bowl of soup and the spoon that Branch had brought to him. Poppy turned her attention back towards Floyd. “Where was I?”

Floyd sipped his soup from his spoon. “You were at the part where you and Branch decided to stop being friends and how you were captured by Queen Barb and your “friend” Hickory turned out to be the Yodelers in disguise.”

“Right, so they took the Pop Trolls’ String away from me after a little bit of tug of war and Barb took it from them. The next thing I know, I’m in a cage in Volcano Rock City and the first target in Barb’s plan to turn all of the Trolls in each of the Tribes into Rock Zombies. Or I was almost the first target. If it wasn’t for Branch throwing himself in the way and being the first to become a Rock—”

“I really don’t want to talk about this right—”

Before Branch could even finish speaking, he was cut short by footsteps and the sound of the voices of his other brothers.

“Branch, why don’t the bedrooms have doors?!”

Chapter Text

Branch had, of course, been forced to add doors rather immediately after a lot of pressuring from his brothers, building and adding them within the span of ten hours. 

Poppy had left ten minutes into it, saying that she had plans to have dinner with her father and Viva regardless of Branch’s suggestion that the three of them could come down into the bunker for dinner as well. Not to mention that Poppy said the brothers needed some time to bond. Or at least try to bond. And dinner and a game night before heading to bed was more than enough bonding time.

Right now, Branch stood by the stove stirring a pot currently simmering on it and humming silently to himself. His brothers all sat at the table as they waited for him to finish.

At least until John stood up, much to the agitation of Bruce and Clay.

“John Dory, sit down,” Bruce warned him, pointing at his older brother’s chair.

John spun around. “You don’t tell the oldest what to do.”

“Well, you’re not the one in charge here,” Clay stated rather calmly. “This is Branch’s bunker. He’s the one in charge.”

John fixed his goggles. “Says who?”

“Says us.”

Floyd rested a hand against his forehead. “Guys, please,” he pleaded as he glanced across at them. “Stop arguing. I have a headache and I don’t want it getting any worse than it already is.”

“Make me sit down and I’ll just stand up again.”

Bruce and Clay glanced at one another before standing up as well.

“I’ll just help Branch with the cooking.”

“No you won’t, bro. Don’t even dare.”

Floyd sighed, playing with his bang. “Guys, please. Just let Branch do the cooking.”

Neither Bruce nor Clay listened as they went to drag John Dory back over to the table and sit him down when he stepped over to Branch to help him out with his cooking. John folded his arms as he went to stand, only to be pushed back down into his chair and held there by Bruce.

“We need to take turns.”

Branch took his eyes off the stove to glare at his brothers. Something that caused them all to fall silent. “We are not taking turns cooking.”

“You don’t need to do all the cooking.”

“Guys, please,” Floyd said as he went to take a tablet.

“I’m the one who owns the bunker. Which means I get to cook.”

“Bruce can cook.”

“Fine. We can take turns cooking but John Dory is not allowed anywhere near the stove,” Branch stated sternly as he eyed his oldest brother.

“No fair, brother. As the oldest I proclaim that I can cook.”

“Guys, please. Stop arguing…” Floyd trailed off immediately, his eyes on the stove behind Branch. He lifted a hand up and pointed over Branch’s shoulder at the stove. A silence filled the air as the others focused their attention on him, argument forgotten.

“What?” Branch asked, the first to speak, breaking it.

No one else said anything, yet another silence forming.

“The stove’s on fire isn’t it?” 

When the smell of smoke confirmed it, the brothers turned towards the stove in a panic. Not knowing what to do, they stared at each other as a silence filled the air. Of the five of them, Bruce elected to be the first to speak. 

“Does anyone have a blanket we can use?”

“Or water?” John suggested, already at the sink with a bucket and filling it to the top with water. “We can just use water.”

Clay glared at him. “If you want to make the fire worse, dude.”

John Dory turned the tap off, picking up the bucket as he spun around to face him. “It was just an idea,” he stated. “Not something I was going to do. Not something I was suggesting we do.”

Clay folded his arms. “Put the bucket down, John.”

John held the bucket over his head. “Tell me to do that one more time and I’m dumping it over your head.”

“Do it and I’ll do it to you.”

Floyd bent down and picked up the blanket that Branch placed on the floor. “Guys, please. Stop arguing. There’s a fire that we need to put out before it gets worse.”

Bruce pointed at the floor. An indication that none of them once again heard him. “Put the bucket down, bro.”

In retaliation, John dumped the bucket over Bruce’s head, completely drenching him in water. The second oldest sputtered out of complete frustration, his hands curling into fists at his sides as his face started to turn red. 

Floyd stepped towards the stove, covering the flames with the blanket all the while keeping his attention focused on his brothers. He paid little to no attention to the flame slowly creeping up his arm. “This is doing nothing to put out a fire. What? Why are you staring at me?”

“Floyd, your arm is on fire.”

The pink and white haired Troll’s eyes widened as he turned his attention to his younger brother. “Branch, can you put my arm out?”

“What do you mean put your arm out…?” 

Branch trailed off immediately as he turned to face Floyd, eyes focusing solely on the latter’s arm. He acted quickly, leading Floyd over to the sink and putting cool water on his arm. This put the fire out quickly, but left a small, minor burn behind. A relieved look made its way across Floyd’s face as he turned towards the stove.

“Who wants to remake dinner?”

“We’re having an indoor picnic,” Branch stated out loud before any of the other brothers had a chance to say anything. “No cooking.”

“I’m cooking. No telling me not to,” Bruce simply stated out loud as he went over to the stove to remake their dinner, ignoring Branch completely and causing him to let out a huff. 

Branch was dragged over toward the table before he even had a chance to protest, getting plopped down in the chair right next to Floyd. He kept his attention on the stove as his second oldest brother got right to work starting over on dinner. 

Bruce was done within ten or so minutes, putting stew into five waiting bowls and carrying them straight over to the table one at a time. Drinks and spoons followed before Bruce finally sat down at the table to to eat dinner. Sitting in between John Dory and Clay. Across from Branch. For five minutes, the five brothers sat there in silence as they ate.

It was Branch who initiated conversation, directing it toward Floyd. “Never have your arm catch on fire again.”

Floyd put his cup down. “I don’t even know how it happened.”

“I saw it happen, brother,” John interrupted. “Your arm caught fire right as you put it out with that fire blanket.”

“Not helping.” Clay flicked a spoonful of stew at John, it hitting the latter’s ski goggles as Bruce stood up to get some more stew for himself.

John Dory took them off to clean them, scowling at Clay. “You better not do that again,” he said. “Or I’ll throw my goggles at you.”

Clay waved his empty spoon in the air like it was some sort of dangerous weapon. “Don’t you dare, dude.”

“You guys are worse than my own children,” Bruce huffed as he sat back down at the table, starting up on eating dinner again. Once again, things were silent before Branch spoke up. This time directing the conversation to Bruce.

“Wait? Quick question. How many children do you have? Five?”

Bruce took a sip of his water. “Thirteen,” he simply said.

It seemed the silence had become apparent again. This time lasting for 30 seconds before the other brothers’ eyes widened simultaneously.

“THIRTEEN?!!!!” they shouted at once, staring at each other in matching amounts of shock before they stared at Bruce, a silence quickly becoming apparent. 

“Yup,” Bruce confirmed after a brief moment with a nod, breaking it. “And they’re pretty much a handful. My oldest is close to his teens.”

Branch nodded, taking a sip. “I’d be lucky if Poppy and I have at least one child together but Poppy’s probably going to want more children,” he said with a silence following. It seemed like he, too, was waiting for his older brothers’ reactions to what he was about to say next. “Us raising the next King or Queen of Pop is going to be a challenge. For all I know they’re going to have Poppy’s energy.”

John, Bruce and Clay turned their attention towards Branch now. “Next King or Queen of Pop?!!”

“I should have told you all Poppy was the Queen on the way back to Pop Village,” Branch sighed as he finished his dinner. “I’m pretty sure Floyd already knows, since I went to give him soup and he was sitting on his bed in his room talking to Poppy.”

Floyd nodded as he too finished his dinner. “She did. It was one of the first things that she told me. When she was telling me all about what happened at Bergen Town.” He patted Branch lightly on the hand. “My little brother dating royalty.”

“We can talk about this in the morning,” Branch sighed as he stood up and pushed his chair in.

Clay held a hand up. “No, I want to hear the whole story.”

“Me too,” Bruce added.

John finished, “Me three.”

“What are you?” Branch asked, eyeing them. “A group of children? The last I checked, I’m not the oldest or a father yet.”

“Branch, please. We really want to know.”

“Poppy and I can tell you in the morning,” Branch repeated, his tone firm and clear that he wanted to change the subject as quickly as he possibly could. His attention remained focused on John, Bruce and Clay. “Game night or walk?”

“Game night!!!!” all four of his brothers shouted out as they stood up and rushed away.

They left their chairs not pushed in and their dirty dishes still scattered out on the table. Branch glanced at them as he too stood up. He and Bruce might as well clean everything up and put it away later. Before the five of them went to bed for the night.

“Careful! Don’t break anything!” Branch shouted out as he followed his brothers straight to the living room. 

By the time he caught up with them, they were all already sitting on the floor with a pack of cards in the center of their incomplete circle.

“A card game? Really? Can’t we play something else?”

“Nope,” Bruce said. “We’re playing a card game unless we all get the full story from you and Poppy.”

“Card game it is then,” Branch sighed and rolled his eyes as he sat down on the floor in between Floyd and John.

They played for what seemed like two and a half hours. Countless games of go fish that some of them won more than once. And by the time they’d finished one last round, Branch looked like he clearly had enough.

“Time to put this all away,” Branch said as he got up. 

“Away?” Floyd echoed. “But we were about to play round 16.”

“We played fifteen rounds,” Branch grumbled. “I think that’s enough and we should head to bed.”

“Good idea.” John was the first to head to bed, “I’m probably going to sleep in Rhonda tonight, Branch. Be down here in the morning.”

“You’ve done that for the last two nights,” Branch grumbled out of clear annoyance as the five of them returned to the kitchen and Branch and Bruce got started up with washing the dishes. “You might as well keep sleeping in her instead of in here.”

“Very funny, brother. Good night,” John muttered out as he went to get his blanket and pillow. He went straight to the elevator once he did so, taking it up to the top floor and leaving the bunker.

Bruce was done with the washing up before Branch himself could even do it, frustrating the latter. “Good night, bro,” he told him as he went to head down the hallway to get ready for bed. “I can cook breakfast for the five of us tomorrow—”

Branch scowled. “Because you took over cooking before I could even say no, you can cook whenever you want to cook,” he stated sternly. “Just not tomorrow morning.”

Bruce said nothing as he disappeared from sight.

Floyd was the next to go to bed. “Good night, Branch. Get ready for my nightmares.”

“You better not keep me awake all night.”

“I’m turning in for the night as well, Branch,” Clay said as he made his way over towards the bedrooms, being the last of Branch’s brothers to head to bed. “Got something to catch up on.”

Branch rolled his eyes at that. He didn’t exactly want a repeat of the last two nights. “Please don’t let it be reading,” he grunted. “Again.”

Clay said nothing as he disappeared down the hall, leaving Branch on his own for a bit before he too went to bed. A little later than his brothers but still.

What he wasn’t expecting was for Floyd to, in fact, have a nightmare right as he climbed into bed, the latter’s screaming loud enough to wake up not only him but the other brothers as well. 

Chapter Text

Branch didn’t exactly have any time to share the whole story with John Dory, Bruce and Clay the next morning during breakfast. Not during time after that. Not when Clay decided to focus on starting on getting the Putt Putt Trolls transferred from the golf course to Pop Village. Something that would be hard. Because the lime green haired Troll couldn’t help but have a distinct feeling that none of the Putt Putts would want to leave the golf course in the first place.

Clay had offered for his brothers to come and help, but Bruce, Floyd and Branch had declined. Saying that there wouldn’t be enough room for eight if ten Putt Putt Trolls were being picked up. Plus an addition that Floyd needed someone there to keep an eye on him. He was still recovering after all.

John on the other hand? He needed to go because someone needed to drive Rhonda to the golf course anyway. Well, in actuality, he proclaimed that he go and Clay had no choice but to let him.

Viva had requested that her sister and father join them as well.

So, about an hour into the morning, Clay, Viva, Poppy and King Peppy had all boarded Rhonda as John, who was already inside, closed the door and climbed into the driver’s seat. Not even a second passed before Rhonda started on her way to the golf course. Especially since they needed to get there as soon as possible.

In the back, Poppy and Viva laughed and chatted with each other as they worked to braid their father’s hair and decorate it with various pieces of candy. Not that King Peppy minded. 

In the back, Clay paced back and forth in momentary silence as he looked down at the clipboard in his hands. “Okay then. Let’s see,” he muttered out. “Tansy, Misty, Starling, Flint, Clover, Linden, Autumn, Wren, Leif and Meadow. That’s who we’re starting with.”

It seemed to be loud enough for Viva to hear, because she’d paused with braiding her father’s hair to look up at him. “Wouldn’t it be easier to do a raffle? Or ask all fifty of them who wants to go first?”

Clay stopped his pacing. “Ma’am, I stayed up half the night figuring out which ten Putt Putts to get to the Village first.”

Poppy chuckled. “Half the night?” she asked. “You don’t look tired.”

“Very funny,” Clay grumbled before he turned his head. “John, could you get us there any faster?”

A chuckle escaped John Dory’s throat. “Only if you let me play your least favorite song.”

Clay growled, but kept himself from going straight to the front of Rhonda and hurting his oldest brother. 

Still, that didn’t stop him from saying, “Don’t piss me off, dude.”

“That growl you just did says otherwise.”

“JOHN DORY!!” Clay shouted, and Viva had to stand to hold him back.

“Okay.” Poppy stood as well as King Peppy looked up. “Let’s take five and actually get to the golf course before someone gets hurt?”

All arguing stopped and Clay returned his attention to the clipboard in his hands and John refocused on the road in front of him. A silence hit, being broken by Clay.

“So, ten groups of five?”

Viva stood up again to go over to him. When had she sat down? “I thought you said five groups of ten?”

“Well, now I say we have ten groups of five,” Clay stated seriously. “Unless Rhonda can have a total of fifteen fit in her? John?”

John pulled his goggles on over his eyes. “More than that can fit in here.”

“Fifty five?”

“Not that many, Clay. It’d get too crowded.”

Clay sighed. “Five groups of ten it is. John, hustle us there quickly.”

John nodded, pressing the hustle button within seconds. They got there quickly, catching sight of some of the Putt Putts standing outside the golf course and waiting (from the looks of it). John stopped Rhonda a few feet away from them. He opened the door and ushered everyone out.

Viva and Clay quickly gathered the Putt Putts Clay had said they were to get to Pop Village that day to explain everything.

Poppy sat on the top step of Rhonda, kicking her legs back and forth.

John stepped around the front of Rhonda to pet her underneath her eye.

In one corner of the outside of the golf course, King Peppy talked to a couple of the elder Putt Putts.

“Get down from there, Poppyseed,” John Dory said as he stepped around the side of Rhonda. “I need to close Rhonda’s door.”

Poppy nodded in a brief silence and hopped off the top step, landing on the ground without hurting herself a few feet away. John closed Rhonda’s door and turned to enter the golf course with everyone else.

He didn’t notice Rhonda start to follow them as well…

…until Clay pointed it out. “Dude, does Rhonda even need to be in the golf course?”

John turned, causing Rhonda to stop and look at him guiltily. “If she wants to be in here, she can be in here.”

“She needs to be out there.” Clay pointed outside.

“She can be in here,” John Dory repeated.

“Out there.”

“In here.”

“Out. There!”

“In. Here.”

“Out. Side.”

“In. Side.”

“Dude, your bus cannot be in here.”

“Too bad. She’s already inside and that gate is closed.”

“I’m not even going to question how she fit through that,” Clay muttered to himself. He paused and glanced around. “Anyone hungry?”

“Well, I am starving,” Poppy said. “Isn’t it lunchtime?”

John pointed over his shoulder at his panting, excited bus. “Rhonda here seems to think so.”

“Fries!” Viva announced. “Fries for everyone and a milkshake for me!”

A couple of the Putt Putts nodded, going straight to where the food was usually prepared and quickly putting it out in front of everyone. 

And with that, everyone started to eat their lunch. Viva drank her milkshake really fast. Much to Clay’s frustration.

John was about to reach for a fry when Rhonda dove forwards and started eating them all herself, with everyone having stopped eating and were now all watching her in complete silence.

Except John, who just laughed. “Hey! Leave a fry for me, Rho.”

The armadillo bus whined apologetically and backed up a little. Watching as another basket of fries was pushed in her beloved owner’s direction by a nearby Putt Putt Troll. Still, that didn’t stop her from eying the fries with a look of hunger in her eyes. John noticed immediately.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t eat, girl. Here.” John Dory pushed a large fry in Rhonda’s direction. She ate it immediately. “Not that fast.” 

When the deep green haired Troll noticed the silence, he looked up.

“Sorry. Habit of hers,” John explained apologetically, looking around at everyone, taking a bite of one of his fries. “Guess how many times she’s done it?”

Viva tilted her head. “She acts like a puppy a lot amount of times?” 

“Pretty much.” John nodded, holding another fry. He looked around.

Clay and Viva had gone back to discussion with the group of Putt Putts they were bringing to the village that day.

Poppy was with her father, talking with a few of the other Putt Putts.

And Rhonda was nowhere in sight in the center of the golf course.

“Rhonda?” John Dory put his hands on his hips, looking around. “Now where did you even go, girl?”

The screams and laughter of some of the Putt Putts in one corner of the golf course seemed to be the answer, because he turned his head just in time to find Rhonda running in full zoomies mode around the golf course as Trolls moved out of the way of her. John Dory turned his head to look at an equally as amused Clay, Viva, Poppy and King Peppy, who’d stopped their respective conversations, before hurrying off after the armadillo bus as amusement crossed his face.

“Rho, you better get back here. No zoomies!”

The armadillo bus didn’t listen, something that frustrated John.

“RHONDA!!!!” 

As they watched, various Putt Putt Trolls couldn’t help but laugh. Even the group Clay and Viva were talking to. And the two Poppy and King Peppy were talking to. Clay was unimpressed. Viva couldn’t help but be amused at the whole thing. And she could tell Poppy was the same way. 

“Dude, are you sure you should be chasing her?” Clay asked, breaking a silence none of them were aware of. “Because that’d just make her more energetic and not want to stop.”

John Dory stopped running long enough to turn to look at Clay. “Rhonda usually runs away from me whenever she picks up on scents. I’m used to chasing after her when that happens so this is just natural habit for me.”

When Rhonda dashed past him again, chasing after one of the younger Putt Putt Trolls who decided to make a real game of it, John Dory went straight back to chasing after her. Followed immediately behind by Clay and Viva. The Troll that the armadillo bus was chasing changed direction and so did she.

“Rhonda!” John shouted. “No chasing other Trolls.”

“Dude, it’s fine. The younger Putt Putt Trolls chase each other all the time here.”

“Not an armadillo bus who I can never tell would either like him or mark him as prey if she licks him!” John shouted back as he continued to chase after Rhonda.

“Yeah, bad idea!” Clay shouted out as he turned his attention towards the excited Putt Putt Troll who Rhonda was playing with. “Dash, you need to get out of the way before something happens to you!”

The young Trolling didn’t seem to listen as he continued to have Rhonda chase after him. Something that made Clay annoyed and the rest of the Putt Putt Trolls to watch in silence. Even Dash’s own parents, who were panicking on the inside. 

Clay glanced at them momentarily before focusing on Viva.

“Viva, help his parents get him out of the way!” he yelled. “Now!”

The yellow haired Troll nodded firmly and rushed forward with the parents following behind her. She yanked Dash out of the way with a sticky hand before holding him tightly against her chest and turning to pass him to his now relieved parents, who thanked Viva.

Yet Rhonda kept running around the golf course with John chasing after her, which led to other sets of parents grabbing and pulling their own children out of the way.

John was starting to get tired with all this chasing Rhonda around the golf course. “Rho, if you calm down, I’ll let you have another fry.”

That was enough to calm Rhonda down, as she came to a stop and turned to John Dory and panted happily and excitedly. John smiled as he pushed a nearby fry towards her. 

“Dude, your bus is way too energetic,” Clay stated as he glared at John Dory. “Even more than Viva or Poppy.”

“So? Rhonda’s like a puppy, brother.”

Clay put a hand on his hip. “Rhonda needs to be somewhere else if she has way too much energy,” he reminded John sternly. “She could’ve killed the Putt Putt Troll she was chasing.”

Looking away for a moment, John supposed Clay was right. Rhonda did need to run off her energy somewhere that wasn’t the golf course after the brief game she played. 

The deep green haired Troll patted Rhonda under her right eye, attention focused solely on Clay. “I’m going to go take Rhonda for a walk and will hopefully be back by the time you guys get the Putt Putts ready.”

Clay folded his arms. “You mean you’re going for a walk whilst she follows you and sniffs everything?”

“Yeah, that.”

“Yeah no. No, dude. That’s not how walking a critter goes.”

“It’s how the hike that I took when I first came across her went.”

Clay paused before he could respond and looked over his shoulder at Viva briefly. “Isn’t the surrounding area dangerous?”

“Says the one who should still know the answer.” Viva smirked.

Clay just shook his head as he watched John Dory and Rhonda head out of the golf course for a bit.

They returned ten minutes later, John completely covered head to toe in mud (Clay couldn’t stop with snickering, which earned him a hard nudge by Viva). And, with that, they got the Putt Putt Trolls they were taking back to Pop Village on Rhonda and went on their way.

Chapter Text

The kitchen had become a right mess as soon as breakfast was done and John and Clay had left to join Poppy, Viva and King Peppy to go straight to the golf course.

Plates, cups and silverware still covered the whole table, all waiting to be picked up by Branch, Bruce and Floyd and carried over to the sink to be cleaned and put away. And yet not even two minutes passed by before they all started to gather everything up and take it over. Plates had been placed by the sink in a single minute and the three brothers turned to start picking up the cups. 

As he watched Branch and Bruce put John and Clay’s cups down before coming back over to pick up all the silverware, Floyd stumbled and dropped his glass, it breaking when it hit the floor with a noise that seemed to be a little bit familiar to the pink and white haired Troll. Floyd looked down at the floor, stepping away from his now broken plate. Branch sighed as he turned to look down at it.

He scratched at the back of his head. “There goes one cup.”

“Sorry, Branch,” Floyd apologized. “I guess that means I can…”

A deadpan look crossed Branch’s face. “I can replace it.”

Another clink. Floyd’s eyes widened at that and he glanced at the sink where Bruce was standing and cleaning one last glass that they clearly missed before putting it away.

It wasn’t until Floyd made a panicked noise that Bruce glanced worriedly at him. “Bro, relax,” he said. “I just put a cup down.”

Floyd turned and stepped toward Bruce, grabbing at his shoulders and shaking him, which seemed to concern the second oldest even more than he already was. “So many clinks, Bruce. So. Many. Clinks.”

“Panicked much?” Bruce muttered to Branch as soon as Floyd let go of his shoulders. 

Branch gave him a concerned nod in response and stepped towards a now hyperventilating Floyd, who was pulling at his bang and staring at the floor with a stressed out look on his face. The pink and white haired Troll turned towards 

“Is every clink going to sound like a diamond bottle from now on?”

Branch raised an eyebrow. “Floyd, that was a glass.”

Floyd grabbed Branch by the shoulders now. He shook him, hard, but he didn’t seem to say anything. It was clear Floyd was getting more and more stressed out as time went on.

“Floyd, are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”

Floyd nodded and let Branch guide him over towards a nearby chair as Bruce began to clean up the broken pieces of Floyd’s plate and tossed them. He joined them as soon as he put the kettle on the stove, sitting to the right of Floyd and Branch sat to the latter’s left. A silence filled the air as none of them could think of anything to say. It only broke when Bruce put a hand on Floyd’s shoulder.

“What happened, bro?”

Floyd was silent for a moment as he swiped a hand through his bang in order to get it to fall over his eye. “A memory of my capture just popped into my head.”

Bruce tilted his head. “So…like a nightmare but during the day?”

“No, Bruce. It wasn’t a daymare. It was something different.”

The kettle’s whistle indicated that it was done and Branch stood up to go make three cups of tea. He came back over to the table with them one at a time and sat back down right next to Floyd. 

“So, what was it?”

Floyd stared silently at his reflection in his cup. “It… it was something that felt more like a flashback of the day Velvet and Veneer kidnapped me. And Velvet throwing me into that diamond bottle,’ he stated as he glanced between them. 

Branch held a hand up. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Velvet actually threw you in that diamond bottle?”

“Pretty much yeah,” Floyd confirmed with a nod.

Bruce patted Floyd’s hand. “That must have hurt.”

Floyd glanced down. “It was done half aggressively.”

“Half aggressively?” Bruce looked up and glanced across at Branch. “Is that even a thing?”

Branch shrugged, then added to Floyd, “Velvet wouldn’t have been the one to do anything half aggressively. She would have done it extremely aggressively.”

“Now that I think about it, I guess it was done aggressively. I just can’t seem to get it out of my mind. That memory’s been there for the last two months and…”

“And it’s going to be that way for a while,” Branch said, cutting his fourth older brother off as he looked at Floyd and took a small sip of tea. “Kinda expected. You won’t believe how many of those I had after grandma got eaten. I really think we need to get you a therapist—”

Floyd calmed right down. “Branch, I don’t need a therapist,” he announced out of what seemed to be amusement. “I am my own therapist.”

Branch just looked confused. Bruce let out a soft sounding chuckle.

A silence filled the air, Branch being the one to quickly break it. The only thing he could do was simply stare at Floyd.

“…what?”

The only thing the pink and white haired Troll was let out a soft but amused chuckle.

Still, Branch ended up taking Floyd to the local therapist’s pod after a half hour of convincing.

Chapter Text

Naturally, a month later, Brandy’d left for her yoga retreat like she said she was, leaving Bruce to cover for her with no way to manage both thirteen children and a restaurant at the same time. Having headed right back to Vacay Island one day prior, Bruce sent a quick note to his brothers, Poppy and Viva to come help him out. 

They’d gotten the note the same morning they’d left to help him out and make things easier, Poppy having asked her dad to cover for her. And they’d gotten on Rhonda immediately, John Dory choosing not to hustle her straight over to Vacay Island like the others requested he do. 

Instead, John, after putting Rhonda on auto-drive for the entire journey there, decided to practice what he had a feeling was the task Bruce was going to give him. With his machete of all things.

“And then Bruce gives me a coconut. Which I slice with this.” John Dory pulled his machete out of the inside of his jacket, swinging it around like it wasn’t some sort of dangerous weapon. 

Annoyance crossed Branch and Clay’s faces as they pulled Poppy and Viva out of the way to avoid the sisters getting injured.

Clay held a hand out for it. “Yeah no,” he deadpanned. “Not safe, dude.”

John Dory refused to give it to him. “Machetes are used for slicing.”

Clay just ignored what he said. “Give me that before you hurt yourself.”

“I know how to use it, Clay,” John Dory protested, jutting the weapon out at him.

Floyd moved to separate the two of them before any further arguing could happen. “Guys, please,” he pleaded. “Stop arguing. I can see Vacay Island up ahead.”

The argument did stop as John and Clay turned their attention towards the front of Rhonda followed by Branch and the sisters. Floyd was right. They were almost there. Rhonda stopped just feet from the restaurant.

“You using your machete to—”

John Dory put his machete away, clear agitation in his eyes as the six of them exited Rhonda to head straight to the restaurant when he instructed her to stop outside of it. “I did not use my machete to help you and Viva with moving all the Putt Putts to Pop Village over the last few weeks.”

Clay rolled his eyes. “Not what I was implying,” he uttered out.

None of them dared say anything else as they all entered the restaurant to find Bruce standing there and waiting for the six of them. He was propped up against a wall outside his kitchen, arms folded. Three of his children ran past with floaties in hand. Clearly wanting to swim in the sea rather than in the indoor pool. Bruce shouted after them to be careful. Eventually, Bruce turned back to his brothers, Poppy and Viva.

“What took you so long?”

“John and Clay argued over John’s machete and how John shouldn’t use it to cut a coconut.”

Bruce eyed the machete in his older brother’s hand. When had John Dory taken it back out? “There’s one I need cutting.”

“With eye protection?” John asked.

“Who protects their eyes whilst cutting food?”

John pointed at himself. “Me. My goggles are good eye protection.”

“Not what I was saying.”

A silence. Floyd and Branch grabbed their hands and pulled them into the kitchen. Following the sisters, who were skipping and chatting, and Bruce before they swung their way up to the kitchen counter. Clay was pulled up via sticky hand. Branch eyed the wide selection of fruits and vegetables in the corner of the kitchen by the sink and turned his attention to Bruce. 

“Wait, wait. How many of those do we need to cut?”

“All of them,” Bruce said, pushing the coconut that he said needed slicing in front of John Dory with both hands. “But you can cut one each whilst I cut the rest.”

The other brothers nodded and got to work. Or they tried…

…if they weren’t immediately interrupted by an odd conversation between the sisters.

Poppy shared an amused look with Viva. “And next time I’ll bring sprinkles from the sprinkle plant I plan on growing when we return to Pop Village.”

A brief pause. Branch stared at his girlfriend in what appeared to be clear stunned confusion. “Poppy, what in the entire Pop Kingdom is a sprinkle plant?”

Poppy patted Branch gently on the back. “A purple plant you can harvest sprinkles from, sweetie.”

“Poppy,” Branch huffed. “That doesn’t exist.”

“It does to me,” Poppy cheerfully responded. “What do you think is going to happen when I plant sprinkles next month?”

Branch rolled his eyes. “Nothing.”

“Okay.” Viva bounced in place, half exuberantly. “Our sprinkle plant is out of the question. Cupcake tree?”

“That doesn’t exist either, ma’am,” Clay grunted, shaking his head.

Bruce stepped in with a newly thought of idea of his own. “Poppy and Viva can make and decorate cupcakes for snacks later and you guys can start chopping vegetables.”

Now the sisters were more exuberant than they had been earlier, dashing straight to the area of the counter where they could see Bruce and Brandy kept all the ingredients for snacks. That had the brothers sigh in relief as they started on chopping vegetables. Not even a second passed by before they heard giggling from the sisters.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Poppy whispered to Viva.

The older of the two nodded. “A FANTASTAMAZING SPRINKLE WAR?!!”

Branch and Clay, followed by the others, turned their attention towards them before they could attempt it. “Enough, you two,” they scolded them at the same time. Tubes of icing in hand, the sisters turned to them with sheepish smiles.

“The point of preparing snacks is making messes.”

“No, it’s not.”

The sisters ignored them, going straight to the sprinkle war as soon as their cupcakes were in the oven. That of course made the brothers sigh at their antics.

Especially John, who grew slightly annoyed when he couldn’t seem to get his own machete to cut through the coconut in front of him. He changed the subject immediately. “This stupid machete isn’t cutting through this damn coconut,” he huffed. “Is it made of solid rock or something?”

“Maybe because that knife doesn’t look like a real machete,” Clay teased from one corner of the counter, where he was sat and drinking a tropical smoothie. Bruce turned to him with a scolding look, which made Clay put the smoothie down and go to slice a pineapple. 

John pointed at the weapon in his hand. “It’s a real machete. I crafted it years ago and sharpen it regularly.” 

With that, before Clay could respond, John Dory turned his attention back to the stubborn coconut and successfully managed to start slicing through it in a self defense sort of way…

…until he ended up cutting his left wrist the same exact moment he was finished with slicing the coconut. Leaving him barely any time to push it off to the side for preparation. 

John Dory let out a hiss of pain, lifting up his hand to study it carefully. It had clearly grabbed the attention of the others, because they’d stopped what they were doing to gather around him in concern. A silence filled the room, quickly broken by Bruce.

“What were you even doing? Practicing self defense on a coconut?”

John just stared at the oldest of his younger brothers. “No. I was cutting the coconut that you asked me to cut with the proper type of knife.”

“And cut yourself doing it, dude?” Clay uttered, folding his arms.

John looked clearly offended. “So it’s my fault the coconut was hard as rock and stubborn,” he uttered out, wincing in pain when Bruce finished wrapping a bandage he’d gotten out around his injured, bleeding wrist.

Clay held a hand up. “Don’t use a machete next time.”

John Dory stayed silent briefly as he pulled his ski goggles over his eyes with his uninjured, gloved hand. “Machetes are proper coconut cutting tools. Right, Bruce?”

Before Bruce could have a chance to nod or speak, he was cut short by the sounds of arguing and struggling emanating from one corner of the restaurant.

“You guys keep working in here. I’ll go and see what my kids are arguing about.” Not waiting for any response, Bruce hopped off the counter and hurried straight into his restaurant. He came back twenty minutes later with an annoyed look in his eyes. The others looked at him out of concern.

“What happened? Why were…”

“Ripped floaty,” Bruce uttered as he plopped himself down on the counter to eat one of Poppy and Viva’s cupcakes.

Chapter Text

I decided to end this story because I’m struggling with how to continue it from chapter 7. And I’m struggling with the plot of my next story:

• A next generation story.

• Poppy and Branch getting into a fight and Floyd talking to one or both of them with a request of them making up.

• Poppy going missing and the others setting out to find her.

• A Floyd Stays/Returns AU.

• An AU rewrite of the third movie. 

• A rewrite of this story. 
  
  
  
  
• Poppy having a royal guard.

• A one shot.

But there will be one more chapter in this story that happens a year to two years after chapter 7.