#genuinely lost is when lavender released sour

[an-animagi]

List 5 songs you like to listen to, then publish this and send this ask to the last 5 people in your notifs🎶

here goes, a list of 5 songs in no particular order:

AUDIT by weevildoing

2. Goodbye my Danish Sweetheart by Mitski

3. Father by The Front Bottoms

4. I’m so crazy for youuu ˂/3 by Rebzyyx (only in a specific mood, which includes whatever is happening in my brain rn)

5. Sour by Lavender

if anyone wants the spotify link to any of these songs lmk!! ^3^

[radiosteve]

Need Your Loving Tonight Ch. 16

Summary: With the band going away on tour, a rush of feelings floods you. Will they change when the band returns?

Note: Not sure how I feel about this chapter but enjoy! As always, the italicized part is the reader’s thoughts. The photo is one that I found on google. I do not own any rights to it. If you want to be added to the taglist send me a message or an ask and I’ll add you!  

Warnings: Anxiety

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader, John Deacon x Reader

Words: 3.6k+

 March 1, 1974

The months weaved on, swirling through continuous patterns and daily routines as the days grew longer. The fabric of your sweater clung to your skin as you walked down the street, heading towards the bank that you were employed at. A cool breeze rushed through the air, dragging your hair away from your neck, leaving it chilled and exposed. You quickly tugged your hair back down, covering the deep purple spots the lined the side of your skin. John called them a ‘going away present’ the night before, leaving you in a moaning mess as he softly sucked against your skin. When you woke up this morning he was gone and on his way to Blackpool. 

 The start of the Queen II tour made a part of you feel empty while the other only felt pure joy. You were so happy to see them going off around Europe, finally picking up some traction and loyal fans. But on the other hand, you missed the old days when you stood backstage for every show and kept the boys in check. Everything seemed so different and for some reason you began to hate the concept of change. 

 You burst through the bank doors, still a little peeved from your thoughts on your walk to work, feeling the eyes of your coworkers and customers staring down upon you. With a polite smile, you rushed back behind the counter into the breakroom, throwing down your bag and fixing your hair once more.

 “Rough night?” you heard a voice over your shoulder, turning to look at the person standing in the doorway.

“Not completely,” you pushed the hair back from your neck, revealing the hickies that bruised across your skin.

 “Really? You get shagged and still come in here all angry and what not?” she held back a giggle as she sat down on the lunch table in front of you.

 “Sorry Carol, I don’t make the rules,” you smirked at her as she playfully shook her head. Carol had been your best work friend since you started at the bank after graduation. She had been the one to train you, to show you how to cut corners when needed, and what to do on a slow day. Besides Sally and the boys, Carol was one of your closest friends. 

 “How is John? Are the boys nervous about the tour and album release?” she asked while playing with a loose button on her sweater. 

 “I can’t tell. I mean, I’m sure that he is, but he won’t talk to me about it. It’s like he’s trying to spare me from his feelings,” you responded, fishing through your bag for lip balm, feeling the surface of your lips grow more chapped by the second.

 “Maybe he’s embarrassed about being nervous and that’s why he won’t say anything,” Carol said, pulling her attention away from the button. Her gaze focused on you, eyes staring deep into yours, making goosebumps rise all over your skin. “But everything else is good, right? I don’t want to hear that my favorite couple is breaking up,” Carol’s words sounded genuine, as if she was actually worried about some issue in your relationship with John. You nodded, finally grabbing hold of the lip balm in your purse, before applying it and pinning your nametag to the front of your sweater. 

 “Everything is fine between us. He’s just going on tour. But we’ll be ok. I’m sure of it,” you shoved everything back into your purse, fixed your hair and went to the doorway. You turned back looking at Carol one more time. “Why do you ask?”

 “I don’t know. I had this dream last night that something happened between you two and when I woke up, I just couldn’t shake it,” she shuddered lightly, getting up from the table, but still standing across the room from you.

 “Everything is fine, I promise,” you flashed Carol a bright smile before walking out behind the front desk to greet the customers. Everything is fine.

 May 16, 1974

 You’d just gotten back from a long day at work, waiting for the weekend to finally bring itself around. You had plans to meet up with the boys tomorrow after work and watch them perform. Just the idea of spending time with all of them again made you feel fluttery inside. Not that you didn’t still see them, but everything was different when they were away on tour. You felt lonelier, relying heavily on Sally and Carol to drag you out of your flat on the weekends. Ever since Queen went on tour, you’d grown used to the feeling of emptiness that filled your seemingly hollow heart. Your trek upstairs in your building droned on, feeling the weight of the week dragging you down. By the time you reached your floor, you simply wanted to collapse into a heap on the ground. 

 You tried to unlock the door to your apartment, only to find that it was already open. With a heavy sigh, you threw the door open, fumbling around for the light switch on the wall. Filled with annoyance and a little rage, you tossed your bags to the ground after finally flicking on the light. Sally’s bedroom door opened, and she stumbled out into the living room. A look of worry masked her face causing you to fret. One thing that you never understood about Sally is how she is so ridiculously laidback. She’s so calm and collected all the time. Never stressing about anything. Even when she was a student, Sally never once panicked before a presentation or exam. So, when Sally walked out, expression dripping with concern, your heart began to pound deeply in your chest.

 “What? What is it, Sal?” the words fell from your lips but the panic that was arising within you made them sound far off and distant. Sally sat down on the sofa slowly, as if trying to find the words to say.

 “John called. Something happened with Brian. He’s ill. Really ill. So ill that they’re canceling the rest of the tour,” Sally huffed out, her face scrunched up like she was in pain.

 “Oh no. That’s awful,” your body slumped down next to hers on the couch. “Will he recover? Do they know what it is?” as the questions poured from your lips you could feel your body begin to shake. One of your best friends was sick and you felt like there was nothing that you could do to help. 

 “He should recover, they don’t know how long it will take though. He’s contracted Hepatitis,” Sally’s face looked a little less grave, as if telling you about Brian made her feel a bit better.

 “That’s terrible,” you mumbled, lost in thought as you mulled over Sally’s words in combination with yours.

 “On the positive side of things, the boys will be back by tomorrow and you can stop moping around like a lost puppy,” Sally laughed lightly, looking over at you as your shoulders loosened. 

 “I do not mope,” you hunched forward, crossing your arms across your chest as your expression turned sour.

 “Oh, you definitely do. Next time they go on tour I’ll make sure to get someone to follow you around with a video camera to capture all of your sulking,” you flashed Sally a silly face before standing up to grab your bags from the ground near the door. You went into your room, dead set on changing your clothes before starting to make dinner. I get to see the boys tomorrow. And John can stay the night like always. And Freddie can tell me all of his crazy concert stories. And Brian can explain how he was so reckless that he contracted and STD. And Roger can… who knows what Roger can do.

 May 17, 1974

 Rounding the corner to the hospital, you spotted the cute little flower shop you loved that always smelled like lavender. It was filled to the brim with gardening supplies, plant seeds, flowerpots, and of course, flowers. You entered, stopping by the stand that held a row of beautifully arranged bouquets. After a minute or two of examination, you finally plucked two large arrangements of daisies, roses, baby’s breath and carnations and headed towards the counter. The old woman standing next to the cash register looked ever so pleased to see you.

 “It’s been a bit since I’ve seen you last,” she spoke smoothly, in a gentle way that made you feel warm inside. 

 “Yeah, it has been a while. My boyfriend has been out of town, so I haven’t had much of a reason to come buy flowers,” the old woman nodded as you spoke, her lips tight in a smile.

 “Who’s the second one for? If you don’t mind me asking,” her soft tone made you feel like you could tell this woman all of your secrets. 

 “The other bouquet is for my friend. He’s in the hospital,” you gave her a soft smile before handing her the money for the flowers.

 “Oh, I see. You had me worried that some other man had grabbed your attention,” she flashed you a polite smile before handing you the bouquets and your receipt. You felt taken aback by the woman’s assumption, feeling dread fill your bones. Do I seem like someone that would cheat on their boyfriend? Has someone else captured my attention? You said a quick goodbye to the woman and rushed towards the front door, desperately gaping for fresh air to rid your head of such ugly thoughts.    

 Throughout the rest of your walk to the hospital, you took every action possible to calm yourself down. The old woman’s sentiments had really shaken you up and your worry was growing worse with each step. In a gasp of air, you turned to sit on a small wooden bench. Its legs were surrounded by green, leafy weeds and bright dandelions. Trying to get back to reality, you took it upon yourself to survey your surroundings, taking deep breaths as you did so. 

 The sun was a bright yellow ball in the sky, shining strongly on your bare arms. You absorbed its warmth with every inhale, letting its rays heat your delicate skin. The street in front of you was covered in streaks from hasty breaking and faulty tires. The incessant honking from the road just around the corner you helped keep you grounded. The grass touched your shoes, tickling the sides as they brushed past each blade. Your leg bounced slightly, shaking the wood underneath you as it did. The smell of concrete and grass filled your nostrils, somehow calming you by the second. You’d never been so filled with anxiety before, but as of late it seems to be the only emotion that ruled your head. 

 Finally calmed down to the point where you felt like you could keep going, you stood up and brushed off the back of your pants. The wood splinters flew from the material, as you clutched to two bouquets in your other hand. The hospital was in sight and a sense of relief overtook you as you approached. The idea of seeing Brian, no matter what condition he was in, made your worrisome thoughts clear. And the knowledge that John was close by made your heart pound and your palms grow sweaty. The hospital door slid open and the scent of latex and soap filled your nose with each sniff. You gripped the flowers in your hand even tighter before walking up to the front desk. 

 “Hello, I’m here to visit Brian May,” your voice was timid as the middle-aged woman at the desk stared back at you. Her hair was just starting to gray at the roots, and her eyes had small wrinkles beside them. She was nursing a cup of coffee when you approached but had since set it down next to a cup of pens and pencils that sat upon her desk. 

 “And what is your relation to Mr. May?” she asked, picking up a clipboard from a small basket in front of her. She began scribbling on the sheet as you told her all of your information. After she finally completed your forms, stuck a nametag across your chest and told you where to go, you headed off. The intensely lit hallway tickled your irises as you walked along towards Brian’s room. You could hear the faint sound of a television floating throughout the corridor as you stood before Brian’ door. Other than the echo of tv, you couldn’t hear anything from inside Brian’s room, making you second guess the woman’s directions. With a light tap on the door, you heard a strangled welcome and opened the door. Inside sat Brian, propped up against three pillows with a small smile growing over his face. 

 “Y/n,” he called out weakly, his expression pained but still radiating excitement. He tried to sit up but winced before he could move fully. You rushed to his side, moving the pillows behind him to support his back as he looked at you. “Finally returning the favor for all those times I had to take care of you after a night out in uni,” Brian chuckled, grabbing your free hand.

 “I was never bad enough to go to the hospital. You beat me to that one,” you muttered as a smile graced itself upon your face. You both sat still for a little, just being comforted by each other’s presence. “Oh, I almost forgot,” you let go of Brian’s hand, replacing your soft fingers in his grasp with one of the bouquets. “I know you think it’s a little cheesy, but I brought you some flowers,” Brian smiled at you once more, bringing the bouquet to his nose and inhaling deeply.

 “They’re wonderful, Y/n. Thank you,” he slowly moved up, pulling you into a loose hug before leaning back and pressing a button on his bed to hail the nurse. She came in a minute later, looking down to Brian. He asked her for a vase for the flowers and a cool glass of water. “I really appreciate you coming to visit me,” Brian’s words were soft as he looked towards you once again. “But I know that I’m not the only one you intended to run into today,” he nodded down at the other bouquet resting on your lap. 

 “That’s ridiculous. You are my first and only priority until you fully recover,” your eyebrows knitted together as you spoke. 

 “Yeah, yeah,” Brian waved his hand sarcastically. “John is downstairs in the cafe with Freddie and Rog,” he nodded towards the door, signaling for you to go. You hugged him once more before standing up and pacing over to the door. With a quick glance back, you pulled on the handle and walked back into the gleaming hallway, blinded by the overhead lights. Your trek down to the cafe was short. The excitement of seeing John, Roger, and Freddie dragging your feet faster than normal down the stairs.

 Your feet stopped just outside the large glass window that separated the cafe from the rest of the hospital. Your eyes trailed over the mostly empty room, landing on the three boys crowded around a small, white circular table. They hadn’t seen you yet, even as you walked over to the large door and swung it open. 

 “John,” you called, and although your voice was quiet, you still saw John’s head perk up from behind Freddie. He glanced around the room, trying to gauge where the call of his name came from. John looked straight at you as you rushed towards him with a giant smile spanning from ear to ear. He stood up, throwing his chair back and startling his bandmates in the process, and ran the rest of the way towards you. His arms embraced you so tightly that you felt all the air leave your lungs. He picked your feet slightly off the ground, before placing you back down. And despite the screeching from your body as it begged for air, you couldn’t let go. The tour hadn’t been that long, and you’d managed to see John every few weeks, but being here with him now felt so real. Much more so than anytime that you met him backstage or in his hotel room. 

 “I missed you so much,” John pulled you even closer, surely making a scene in the middle of the cafe. You could even hear Freddie snickering about the two of you from his seat a few feet away. But you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered right now was the way John held you tightly in his arms.

 “I missed you too,” you squeaked, rubbing your free hand up and down John’s back. “And I love you so much,” you added as John pulled away to look at your face. His hands cupped your cheeks before he placed a gentle kiss upon your lips. His lips turned from pursed to a smile, seemingly mesmerized by you with every passing second. 

 “Gross,” you heard a voice from behind you. Turning around, you came face to face with Roger, his lips crinkled into a small smirk. “We go on tour for a month and a half and she ignores us for her boyfriend,” Roger jokingly taunted, elbowing Freddie who had come to stand next to him.

 “You know I missed you guys too,” you pulled Freddie in for a hug and he planted a large kiss on your forehead. After letting go, Roger wrapped his arms around you tightly, squeezing you playfully before he let you go.

 “What? Johnny boy gets a kiss, but we don’t?” Roger joked, earning a chuckle from his bandmates as you pushed him lightly.

 “Shit,” you quickly pulled up the now mostly crushed bouquet of flowers for John to see. “These were for you,” you handed it to him, and he chuckled lightly.

 “They’re still beautiful. Thank you, Y/n,” he kissed the top of your head before grabbing your hand down by your side. The four of you agreed to go back upstairs and check on Brian. The boys flooded you with crazy tour stories, describing every detail of the shows that you missed. The four of you rounded the corner to Brian’s room only to be stopped by his nurse.

 “Only three visitors at a time please,” she said, scanning the four faces in front of her before walking off down the hallway.

 “That’s a stupid rule,” Roger mumbled under his breath as he watched her disappear around the corner. 

 “That’s alright. I have to go to the bathroom anyway. You guys just head in there and we can switch out or something when we get back,” you reassured them, and they all nodded. “Just one thing,” you added before they all stepped in through the door. “Just one more thing. Where is the bathroom?” 

 “I found it earlier. I’ll take you,” Roger said, moving back from the door and more so towards you. He placed his hand on your back to guide you down the long corridor as his boots squeaked against the tile with every step. 

 “The tour sounded really fun,” you looked up towards Roger as he continued to lead you down the hallway. 

 “Yeah, it was. Would have been more fun with you there though,” he had a shy smile on his face as he spoke. His cheeks flushed slightly despite his efforts to prevent it and you noticed. 

 “Aw, Roger Taylor missed me,” you teased, reaching up to pinch his cheeks as you now walked up a flight of stairs leading to the third floor. 

 “Yeah, yeah. I always miss you when you’re not around,” he muttered, feeling a little less confident than normal. 

 “That’s very sweet, Roger,” you smiled at him as you finally approached the bathroom. The two of you stopped in front of the door and you turned to face him. “I hope you know that I missed you too,” you spoke quietly, avoiding his gaze.

 “I wouldn’t expect anything less, love,” he said bashfully, tearing his gaze from the floor as he nodded. You walked into the bathroom with a wide smile on your face. It wasn’t until you caught sight of said smile in the mirror that the familiar hollow pit of guilt opened up in your stomach once more. It was a feeling that you’d been trying to push away, but also one that slowly kept creeping back in. 

 You loved John; you knew that for sure. Whether it was the way he made everything feel right with just a giggle or a closed-lipped smile. Or how his hands fit always perfectly with yours as you interlocked them, feeling his fingers brushed against the back of your hand as you both held them close. Everything about John made sense. You loved him. You were in love with him. You were positive of that.

 But then there was Roger. He made you blush and feel shy like a little kid. He teased and taunted you, and some part of you always craved it. It was so different from anything you’d ever known before. Something about him drew you in. Whether it was lingering feelings or just a dumb crush, you couldn’t shake the feeling that burned quietly in your heart when you were near him. You were troubled and confused, staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror with your palms pressed against the counter. 

 You were in love with John, but maybe you were in love with Roger too. 

 Taglist: @retromusicsalad @bohemiansweede @deaconsroger @queen-crue @ohtheseboysilove @queeniesteiins @kemeryyyy @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ixchel-9275 @rogmeddows @ziggymay @deakysmisfire @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives @briarrose26 @greatdinosaursalad @queendeakyy @killer-qu33n-of-disaster

[dreamsinger-rose]

Smacksgiving Day

So I was thinking about the Trolls Holiday Special, and how random and weird some of the holidays were. Also, how some were so in-your-face that they seemed to be intentionally annoying - and then it hit me. What if the holidays served as a kind of social pressure valve?

All holidays are supposed to be to "release the pressure", as Branch sings in the final song, but since the trolls are supposed to live in a happy, non-violent society, what happens when they get on each other's nerves?

It occurred to me that some of these “holidays” would be a great way to work off your anger at someone. Glitter-palooza - throw glitter in someone's face! Shock-A-Friend Day? Bleepy Sound Day? And one that sounded especially out-of-character for trolls - Smacksgiving Day. A holiday where they're allowed to hit each other? And then (of course) hug afterward.

Smacksgiving Day

Poppy stood nearby, looking at the long line that had formed in front of the booth Branch had built as he stood in the open space between the two side counters, which were piled high with frosting-topped jelly-brownies. "You sure you want to do this, Branch?"

He nodded stoically, his dark purple hair catching the sunlight and turning a vivid amethyst. "I do, Poppy. I know I've hurt a lot of trolls, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make peace with everyone."

"Well, okay…" She clapped her hands. "You heard him, everyone. Get ready to slap Branch in the face to give him some peace!”

She caught him giving her a ‘that’s not what I meant,’ look, but she simply smiled enigmatically at him.

***

Earlier that day…

“Happy Smacksgiving Day, everyone!” Poppy grinned at the vividly-colored cheeks that turned in her direction. “Ooo, Cooper, both cheeks? Someone’s popular today.”

She felt the sharp slap of a hand on her face and turned to see powder-blue Chenille beaming at her while her pink twin sister Satin put her hands on her hips. “Chenille, we agreed that I could slap her first!”

Chenille gave Poppy a quick hug, then backed away and sneered at Satin. “Oh, slap me!”

“Well…if you insist,” Satin said slyly, and swung the loop of hair that connected them around Poppy.

“Hey!” Poppy struggled to get her arms free as Satin used her as a pivot point, lifting and yanking and spinning the young queen dizzy as the twins squabbled, thoroughly engaged in what was apparently their favorite pastime aside from designing fashionable clothes.

Yodeling a mock battle cry, Guy Diamond made a wild leap for Smidge, who used her hair to zip up to the heights of a nearby giant mushroom. “Too slow, sucker!” her gravelly voice boomed.

Poppy used her magenta hair like a tripod to push her hair-wrapped body high into the air, attracting the attention of dozens of nearby trolls. “Guys, hold up a second! I have an important request to pass on!”

The watching trolls gave her mixed looks of curiosity and wariness. “For real, or is this just a trick to get us into slapping range?” Smidge asked, then shrugged. “Of course, if you need to resort to trickery, I shall have no mercy, but-”

“No, it’s a real request. It’s from Branch.” The twins loosened their hair and Poppy coiled her hair like a spring and bounced up to stand on the mushroom next to Smidge. “Can everyone come here for minute?” she called out to the brightly-colored crowd that had already begun to gather around their queen.

“Let me guess, he wants us to take it easy on him, since it’s his first Smacksgiving Day and all,” D.J. Suki suggested calmly. 

Many of the nearby trolls nodded their heads understandingly, smiling at the thought of the brave young troll who had given them all refuge in his well-stocked bunker and then left to help the princess on a rescue mission that ended up including the lives of every troll in the village.

“It figures,” Smidge began scornfully, but Poppy shook her head.

“No, just the opposite. He wants us to be hard on him.”

“What?” exclaimed a dozen trolls, with Guy Diamond’s oscillating tone rising above the general confusion. The crowd broke into a gabble of conversation, through which Poppy waited patiently while more and more trolls arrived.

When the majority of the village had gathered, she raised her hands and clapped then over her head. “Okay, listen up, everyone! Yesterday Branch asked me to let everyone know that he wants to make up for being such a buzzkill for most of his life. He’s offering to let anyone who wants to slap-hug him to go see him at the booth he’s setting up in the village square.”

“You mean he’s just going to stand there and let people slap him?” sentimental Satin asked her with wide eyes.

“Where’s the sport in that?” Smidge wrinkled her forehead.

“That doesn’t sound like much fun. It sounds like…punishment,” Cooper said slowly. “The bad kind, not funishment.”

“Poppy,” Biggie said carefully, his face creasing as he tried to understand. “Do you want us to …punish… Branch?”

The crowd gasped and Mister Dinkles mewed. “Oh my gad,” Smidge said, her eyes so huge they threatened to take up half her face.

“Noooo way!” Guy Diamond trilled indignantly. “We don’t punish. That’s not the troooll way!”

“No, no, no!” Poppy rapidly waved her hands from side to side. “It’s not – Well, I think he – I think Branch feels really bad about how mean he’s been to people over the years.”

“Why doesn’t he just apologize? We’d forgive him, wouldn’t we?” D. J. turned to look at the crowd and many of them nodded or smiled or murmured assent.

Poppy carefully noted that not everyone seemed to agree. Some trolls had a harder time forgiving and forgetting than others, including one special troll in particular who sometimes made her heart ache with sadness for him. She’d spent years trying to get through to him, and now that he was finally opening up a little, she was getting a better sense of who he was and how his mind worked. And how to finally soothe his heart.

She spoke up. “But this is Branch we’re talking about. He doesn’t think like other trolls. He takes things too seriously, and he has a tendency to feel responsible for things that maybe aren’t really his fault.” She felt the corners of her mouth turn down as her voice went a little husky. “And then he punishes himself for them.”

By the looks on their faces she knew her friends understood that she was referring to how he’d refused to allow himself to sing after his innocent childhood song had attracted the attention of the bergen that had eaten his grandmother in place of little Branch. Grief and guilt together had kept him gray and guarded for twenty long years, until the love and forgiveness Poppy and her friends had given him after his heartbreaking confession had finally begun to heal his heart. He’d smiled at her, a real smile free of sarcasm or artifice, a smile she did everything she could to bring out so that he would never fall back into the grayness.

At the uncharacteristically somber look on their queen’s face, the crowd’s chatter died down. Poppy smiled reassuringly down at everyone, explaining, “So we wouldn’t really be punishing him, we’d be helping him feel less guilty.”

“Ohhh.” The ripple of understanding caused bright smiles to spread through the crowd.

Smidge shrugged. “Fine by me. Colors or no colors; he’s still such a weirdo, but if it makes him happy…”

“Be gentle, everyone,” Poppy cautioned, watching hair of every color of the rainbow sway as they all nodded.

“Well, of course we will,” Cooper said reassuringly. “He’s our buddy!”

“Princess Poppy, what if we can’t think of anything to be mad at him for?” one of the children asked.

“Oh, you don’t have to do this. Branch just wants to give people a chance to speak their minds. If you’re not mad, it’s all good,” the rosy queen said cheerfully.

***

Most of the trolls satisfied themselves with a gentle slap to his pale aqua cheeks - which quickly became deep lavender, although Poppy suspected it was mostly due to shame rather than blunt force trauma.

Each of the gathered trolls also aired their grievances. The troll queen wasn’t sure how many were genuine and how many had been dreamed up by those trolls who felt it their duty to help lighten the burden of the brave young troll who had literally brought back the light inside all of them, but a few were so obviously fake that she slapped her forehead and groaned. She hoped he wouldn’t notice.

"You told me my singing was off-key!" "Electric blue and orange do SO go together!" "You ruined three of my parties with your bergen-warnings! Even though you turned out to be right in the end, you never apologized for those other times!" “I hate cupcakes!”

Poppy raised an eyebrow. How is that Branch’s fault?

"I'm so sorry," he said to each troll. “Please forgive me.”

How could you not forgive that sad little face? Poppy felt her heart flutter and brought her hands up to cover her chest, smiling with loving empathy at the former recluse with sincere sky-blue eyes who was so determinedly doing what he thought was right, even though his method for doing so made more than a few trolls scratch their heads.  

Branch had a soulful, troubled look that made many of them pause, mentally comparing the woebegone face of the handsome aquamarine troll with the sour, hostile gray face that was all most of them could remember. The face that all of them had witnessed gain its long-lost colors right in front of them. The face that had literally brought them all back from the awful gray pit of numb despair, touching them all with his gentle compassion, his tender hope, and his passionate devotion to their beloved princess.

No one doubted that Branch was deeply in love with her, and watching the two of them now, with Poppy standing so protectively near him made most of them feel any remaining animosity for the young troll drain away, replaced by a warm, fuzzy feeling that was much preferred by the happiest creatures in the forest.

"Of course I forgive you," each troll replied. The hugs that followed were invariably warm and affectionate, and Branch was glad to receive every one.

“Would you like a jelly-brownie?” he offered. “They’re made from my grandma’s recipe.”

Poppy stood nearby with clasped hands, so proud of him she could hardly contain herself. When the last troll had gone, she looked at his puffy lavender cheeks and giggled. "Well, no one can say now that they're still mad at you after this. How long did that take, an hour?"

He shrugged, not wanting to say anything through sore lips. She gave him a sympathetic smile and took his hand in hers. "Come on, let's go put some cold compresses on your face."

He looked down at their clasped hands and fought to control the smile that wanted to torment his sore face. Instead he squeezed her hand, glad that she had not seemed to want to join the line, in spite of all the grief he'd given her over the years. Still, ever cautious, he decided to make sure. "Poppy?" he mumbled. As she turned to him, he shifted his grip to her wrist and held her hand up in front of his face.

"Oh." For a moment Poppy seemed to consider it. It was Smackgiving Day, after all. She twisted her hand out of his grasp and he closed his eyes, tilting his cheek up in silent offering.

Nothing happened for a long moment. He opened his eye a crack to see her giving him a loving smile, and then her hand loomed in front of his face and he reflexively closed his eye. Something made contact with his face, but rather than the sharp sting he had become accustomed to, her touch was gentle, soothing, a caress that slid down his sore face and under his chin, her fingers teasing his downy skin in a way that sent tingles right down to his toes. He pulled in a deep breath and his hands clenched as he held himself still, content to remain like that as long as she cared to touch him.

He remembered the look in her eyes, and smiled slightly despite his tender face, almost sure that the love he’d seen there was more than just friendship-love, but happy to see it there all the same. As long as she loved him there was a warmth inside him, a sense of connection, driving back the dark desolation that had once made him avoid all contact with others.

He dared not open his eyes, standing there in rapt pleasure until finally her hand moved away and he opened them to see her giving him a gentle, thoughtful look. "I guess I don't feel like it this year," she said in answer to the question he’d forgotten he’d asked. The pink queen smiled wryly. "In fact, this is probably the first year I haven't felt like slapping you for all the rude things you've said.” Her voice went husky, a sure sign that she was feeling emotional. “I’m so proud of you, Branch."

He felt a surge of warmth at her praise and his cheeks hurt as the smile he was trying to contain widened. Made bold by her touch, he held up his large hand and reached toward her, making contact even as she automatically winced in anticipation, scrunching her eyes shut. Then she seemed to realize that he was only cupping her cheek gently and giving her a soft look to make his message clear.

"You neither, huh?" She placed her warm hand over his, closing her eyes and pressing her face more firmly into his hand. She took a deep, slow breath, smiling dreamily, then opened her eyes and pulled his hand away to clasp it once more. "Come on, let's go before someone else spots you." She grinned as she led him away, and he was more than willing to follow.

***

Author’s Note:

Thanks to eva-93 for her timely comment that got me thinking of revising this fic to include a good reason for the other trolls to cooperate. When I first got the idea for this fic I had seen the Holiday special but not TTBGO, so I hadn’t yet seen the Creek Week episode about the trolls’ attitude toward forgiveness.

Speaking of trolls and forgiveness, we know Branch and even Poppy finds it hard to forgive. And while we know Poppy’s friends forgave Creek in TTBGO after a simple apology, we don’t know if all the other trolls did. The majority of the village trolls were only captured due to Creek’s betrayal. Poppy, Branch and the others were spared that experience, of looking up at Creek, sitting on Chef’s shoulder like an evil demon with the same serene smile they’d once admired. Considering how terrified the rest of the villagers all were of the bergens in the first episode of TTBGO, even though they’d danced the whole night with them during the movie, I think it’s reasonable to believe that not all trolls can forgive so easily.

Did you catch the Doctor Who reference? The fourth doctor offers people “jelly-babies”. I couldn’t resist, lol.