Branch has learned in recent weeks that it's much, much harder to be threatening when his hair is blue and his skin is bright and he doesn't yell at people so much anymore and he still has bits of glitter flecking his cheeks from Poppy's latest scrapbooking venture.

And yes, okay, fine, sometimes it's kind of…well, okay, he'll admit it, it's kind of nice, sometimes, when he doesn't scare people away just by looking at them, and it's kind of nice when other trolls don't avoid his eyes or walk the other way when they see him coming, it's kind of nice to spend time with people, and it's kind of nice when they don't seem even slightly intimidated.

But only sometimes, because sometimes, the scowl that made the rest of the village keep their distance, and the inexhaustible supply of bitter remarks that used to lurk always on the tip of his tongue, though he never needed more than one to make whoever was bugging him get the picture—well, sometimes, that stuff could really come in handy.

Like now.

Seven hug-time bracelets throw out a series of tinkling, cheerful chimes, and he keeps his gaze fixed resolutely on the book in his hands, but even so, he can physically feel seven pairs of eyes on him, he can physically sense seven all-too-pleased grins finding their way onto seven faces.

He turns the page, and musters up the most threatening tone in his arsenal. "Don't even think about it."

Ten seconds later, seven pairs of arms have pulled him into a very enthusiastic but very claustrophobic group hug, Smidge's hair tickling the tip of his nose, and Biggie's arm clamped tightly round his shoulders, Guy Diamond's glitter scratching unpleasantly against his arm, and how on earth do some people actually enjoy this?

Branch tries to pull back, and he tries to be subtle about it, though there's really no need – it's not like any of them will notice if he's gone; it's not necessarily about the trolls they hug, at least not for most of them. Everyone except him, it seems, really only cares about the physical affection given and received when their bracelets go off, and very little, or sometimes not at all, about the person they're exchanging it with.

But then Poppy's fingers close around his wrist. "Oh, no, you don't! Come on, Branch, being our friend means being in our group hugs!"

And Branch—well, he could roll his eyes, or he could just yank his hand back and pull away anyway, or he could start yelling until nobody feels like hugging anyone anymore, that's always an option, but Biggie's grasp round his shoulders tightens marginally, and Smidge's small arms are still wound round his leg with a grip that threatens to shatter his kneecaps, and maybe he's wrong, but he's pretty sure the word that just left Poppy's lips was something like friend, and before he can talk himself into ducking out, he settles slowly, and a bit awkwardly, back into the circle.

He makes sure to grumble a little, though, just so everyone is aware of his annoyance.

Any day now, they'll start taking his threats seriously again.

Any day. He's sure of it.

But he thinks maybe he can wait just a little bit longer.

A/N: tWO FANFICTIONS IN AS MANY DAYS? GUYS LOOK AT ME ACTUALLY WRITING! IM NOT DOING IT WELL, BUT IM DOING IT! anyway this was just something silly I whipped out based off the prompt "Don't even think about it". hope you guys liked it!