I'm enjoying the call for Peppy's blood in the comments. I'm sorry for the wait, but I just got my wisdom teeth out.

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Whenever Poppy was stressed, she would scrapbook.

It had been her hobby for as long as she could remember. She loved singing, dancing, and hugging, but scrapbooking was her true passion. It was the one thing that was just hers, the one thing that could truly relax her. So when the outside world became too much for even her to handle, she would turn to her craft supplies.

It wasn't working.

Paper and glue were scattered across her pod, but Poppy had yet to produce anything even halfway decent. It was like her fingers were deliberately disobeying her. Every time she had tried to make a little pink troll with a crown on her head, she ended up with a bruised botched body.

Why did it feel like she couldn't do anything right these days?

A gentle knock at her door startled her. "Poppy," came Branch's soft voice. "Are you awake yet?"

Little did he know, Poppy hadn't slept the entire night. "Y-Yeah," she called back, lifting herself from the floor. "Just a minute!" She looked in the mirror, and sugar, she looked awful. There were dark circles under her eyes and her ponytail was somehow lopsided. And Muses, her clothes. For the first time in years, she hadn't bothered with a dress and opted for a pair of sweatpants.

Sweatpants! She hadn't even known she owned any until this morning. But wearing a dress had made her feel so... exposed? No, that wasn't the word. More like an impostor. She wasn't a neat, put-together queen.

She was a failure.

But there was no time to dwell on that now. Poppy scrambled to clean her pod up, shoving all the butchered paper she could into the trash. Once her room was halfway presentable, she practically flung open the door, properly winded. "Branchifer," she greeted, quite literally breathless. She made sure to block his view of her pod from the outside.

"Poppifer," Branch replied, but his tone lacked its usual playfulness. Instead, he sounded wary. His bright blue eyes examined her and this time she did feel exposed. Branch could read her like no one else. "Are you okay?"

"Pfft, of course I am!" she answered a little too quickly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

His eyebrows drew together. "You're wearing sweatpants," he pointed out.

Poppy crossed her arms self-consciously. "So what?" she asked defensively. Was it a crime to wear sweatpants now?

Branch looked her over. "You never wear sweatpants," he reminded her. He was still looking at her like there was something wrong; she didn't like it. "You don't even own a pair, those are mine."

Her cheeks warmed as she realized he was right. These were Branch's. "Maybe I'm stealing your wardrobe," she deflected with a shrug. But she felt gross inside; she was lying to him. They didn't lie to each other. But for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to tell him what was wrong with her.

Especially because she didn't quite know.

He didn't believe her, they both knew it. But for some reason, Branch decided to let it go. "We have a lot planned today," he reminded her, taking out a clipboard that was suspiciously identical to Clay's. "The preschoolers are expecting you of course, Clay wants to go over safety measures, the twins want your input for their upcoming fashion show..."

Usually, Poppy would be excited. These were things she did as queen for her people and she took pride in that. But listening to Branch rattle off her schedule filled her with a sense of dread. All of that sounded exhausting.

Poppy berated herself; that wasn't the attitude of a queen. It didn't matter what she was feeling, that wasn't an excuse to not do right by her people. "Got it!" she replied, plastering a smile on her face. "Let me change real quick, okay?"

Branch gave her an odd look, but nodded. "Sure-"

He barely got the word out before Poppy unceremoniously closed the door in his face. She flung her sweatpants and tank top off, reaching in her closet for the first dress she saw. It was a cute lilac dress, which she complemented with a matching crown.

She was almost ready to go when the ointment sitting on her nightstand caught her eye. Oh, she hadn't remembered to put it on this morning. Poppy reached for it, but hesitated. She really didn't have time to take her clothes off, apply it, and then put her clothes back on again; she was late enough as it was.

So she retracted her hand and rushed out the door to meet Branch.

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"...and that's how Queen Poppy and her super cute and super brave boyfriend Branch saved all of music," Poppy finished reciting. The children giggled and clapped, even though she must have told the story ten times before.

Branch stood a small distance away from her, cheeks flushed violet. "Poppy," he complained, embarrassed. The kids laughed at him; once he had started joining her here, they had taken to him immediately. Whether it was because they liked him or liked making fun of him was anybody's guess. Keith especially loved bothering him.

"Queen Poppy," one kid, Sparkle, called raising her hand.

Poppy turned her attention to the girl. "Yes, Sparkle?" she replied.

"What's wrong with your face?"

Poppy's ears burned at the question, her hands flying to her bruised cheek. For some reason, it hadn't crossed her mind that the kids could see her bruises too, they didn't give her weird looks like the adults did. But she should have expected it; children were naturally curious with no filter.

How the heck was the going to explain this?

Fortunately, she didn't have to. Branch was by her side in an instant, partially placing himself between her and the kids. "Well, Sparkle, you know how sometimes you get boo-boos?" he answered. At the girl's nod, he continued, "That's what happened to Queen Poppy. Everyone gets hurt sometimes, right?"

Thanks the Muses for her Branch.

Sparkle seemed to accept this answer. "Ohhh," she said, then turned to Poppy. "I hope you feel better soon, Queen Poppy." The other children chorused their agreements.

Poppy managed to smiled. "Thank you." She knew Sparkle hadn't meant anything by it- she was just a kid- but her words had felt like a knife to her chest. What's wrong with your face? What's wrong with your clothes? What's wrong with you?

It suddenly made sense, why people didn't seem to want to be near her.

OoOoOo

Satin and Chenille's fashion show planning hadn't required much of her attention, so after an hour she and Branch were on their way to meet Clay. Though, most of his jargon went in one ear and out of the other for her. So Poppy allowed Branch to handle discussing these things with Clay and she would approve whatever he recommended.

She opted to speak with Viva instead, chatting adamantly with her sister. Though, she allowed the blond to take over most of the conversation. She didn't feel like her normally chatty self.

What's wrong with you?

But Branch was nothing if not efficient, so the whole thing was done in about twenty minutes. "All we need is your signature," he told her, holding out the document. Poppy quickly scrawled her name across the paper.

Their hug time bracelets went off right after and Branch wasn't able to escape Clay's grasp in time. She giggled, watching her boyfriend huff at his older brother's antics before she was scooped up by Viva.

Usually, Poppy loved Viva's strong, exuberant hugs. They made her feel so loved. But the pain that flashed across her skin prohibited her from fully enjoying it. She desperately held back from flinching.

This time, Viva noticed her discomfort. "Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed, horrified at herself as she let go. "I'm so sorry, Poppy! I keep forgetting!"

Poppy waved her off. "It's fine," she assured her sister, feeling exceptionally guilty. She hadn't meant to make Viva feel bad! It wasn't a big deal, she could be uncomfortable for a few seconds.

But Viva shook her head. "No, I need to be more careful," she insisted. "You're too sweet, you'll never tell us if it hurts when we hug you."

Branch- finally managing to untangle himself from Clay- frowned thoughtfully. "She's right," he realized slowly. "You won't tell us if something's wrong."

That... wasn't what Viva said. Poppy giggled nervously. "Guilty," she admitted, looking at Viva and pointedly not responding to Branch. Those blue eyes would pierce right through her if she let them. Right now, they were practically burning a hole through her skull. "But I still like hugs."

"That doesn't mean we shouldn't be careful," stressed Branch.

It was Poppy's turn to frown. "I'm not made of glass, Branch," she laughed off. "I won't break." You would, you did, you're weak. "You don't have to worry so much."

"If I don't, no one will," he pointed out. He seemed... agitated. Why, she couldn't say.

She was horribly confused. "What do you mean?" she asked. Why would anyone have to worry about her? She was fine.

Branch looked somewhere between incredulous and desperate. "Poppy," he said, probably as patiently as he could. "Outside of me, Viva, Floyd, Clay, and Cooper, how have people been treating you?"

Poppy falter; she hadn't realized he noticed. "Well, um, awkward?" She laughed, trying to lighten the suddenly serious mood. "Not that I blame them. I mean, look at my face." Sparkle's words from earlier kind of put everything in perspective. Her bruises were unsightly, that was why people acted that way.

It wasn't a problem.

Viva's eyebrows pulled together. "There's nothing wrong with your face," she intervened adamantly. She was getting upset, anyone could tell. "And what is Branch talking about? What's going on?"

Clay laid a hand on her shoulder. "Viva," he warned, his gaze bouncing between Poppy and Branch.

"They're avoiding you," Branch corrected flatly. "The minute you weren't the perfect queen you always are, they treated you differently. That isn't fucking okay."

Poppy winced; Branch hardly swore, least of all at her. "Of course they're uncomfortable," she defended. "I'm the Queen. I'm supposed to be strong for the people, that's what Dad always says."

"...you have to be careful. You really scared Cooper and Biggie."

"Poppy, you're still a person," insisted Branch. "Someone hurt you, you don't deserve to be antagonized for it."

She held her hands up placatingly. "Branch, don't you think you're exaggerating?" she asked. She didn't like where this conversation was going. Her stomach rolled at her boyfriend's implications. "The villagers just aren't used to something like this."

"And they never will be if they always act like this whenever something does happen," he shot back at her.

Poppy bristled. "What do you mean-"

"Okay!" Clay cut in, clapping his hands together. "I just remembered, I wanted to talk to Smidge about construction schedules. Branch, come with me?" When his younger brother didn't budge, he caught him by the ear. "Branch."

Branch closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose. "Fine," he agreed begrudgingly. He looked to her with softer eyes than he had previously. "We'll talk more later, okay?"

Poppy had a feeling she wasn't going to enjoy that talk. But she was supposed to be doing a better job at listening. "Okay. I love you."

He gave her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I love you too." As her boyfriend was pulled away by his brother, Poppy was left wondering what the heck had just happened.

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Longer chapter than I expected. Poppy's really going through it isn't she?