positive bog

friendly reminder

swamp hags are valid

wretched gorgons who can’t dwell the swamp and instead settle for bridges are valid

shrewish crones who solely frequent overpasses in busy cities are valid

YOU CAN BE AN ABOMINATION TO MANKIND OUTSIDE OF A BOG 

don’t let tumblr tell you otherwise 

anonymous asked:

I'm really glad I found your blog, there aren't too many Joseph stans in the fandom. I'm fairly new, but Joseph is my favorite dad and it's upsetting to see so many people say Joseph is a bad person. Anyway, I love your blog ❤

I have to admit, I have no idea what a ‘stan’ is, but I am very happy that I am able to provide you a positive Joseph bog!! It’s always been my intent to promote positivity, and so I am very thankful to fans like you.

You’re a peach!

What if Goblins cannot speak? They make noises, they grunt, they do have a way of communicating, but they do not speak in the same language like the Fairies.

That’s the reason why the Light Fields and the Dark Forest are worlds apart from each other.

So imagine that when Bog and the goblins crash the Elf party, all the fair folk can hear are rough voices roaring at the crowd. And when Marianne crashing into Bog’s lair to rescue her sister, he growls and snarls at her.

Imagine Bog bringing Marianne to the dungeons to show her that Dawn is alright. Him roaring at the prisoners to stop singing. Him making small helpless winces when Marianne expresses her disbelieve that Dawn is in love with him. Bog snorting when Dawn rushes out to hug him. Griselda making high screeching noises at Marianne to nudge them to the dining room. Stuff and Thang grunting a surprisingly beautiful melody. Bog huffs when he sees the little heart fastened above them and grunts. They laugh as they trash the room.

The Sugar Plum Fairy speaks in many languages including Fairy language so Marianne could at least understand what the antidote is. Bog making protesting groans and moans when Plum told the story about Bog’s painful past.

When Marianne suggested to stretch their wings to fly, Bog gets her body language. Bog singing a beautiful tune in his strange language to serenade Marianne as he gently wraps his arms around her to navigate those thorns. Bog growling at Marianne when he sees the Fairies led by Roland approaching his keep. Bog positively snarling at Roland when he sees that Roland intends to use the love potion on Marianne. As the castle is crumbling, Bog holds Dawn securely and when he hears Dawn shouting for Marianne’s name, he finally says his first Fairy word, yelling for her as his home falls apart. Bog roaring at Marianne to bring Dawn to safety.

When he is discovered to be safe from the wreckage, Bog attempts to hum a Fairy tune to express his love for this purple winged Fairy Princess. But she shushes him and rock out to a song that his people are familiar with. And just like that, despite the lack of understanding of the languages by their cultures, they are fluent with each other’s thoughts and feelings. And they share a kiss to seal their love for one another.

Strange Magic Week: Role Reversal (Butterfly Bog)

AKA I know I’m a week late, but I don’t think either you or I really care.

This is a disjointed collection retelling bits of the movie, only with Prince Boggart of the Light Fields and Queen Marianne of the Dark Forest.


“Really? This is how you react to a near death experience?”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Why are people giving you crap over tiny animation errors?I mean, they literally put effort into finding errors that don't matter and call you out on it. Why?? There's no reason. "HEY, YOU MADE A MISTAKE HERE WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO??" Like woah, this isn't school sorry Mrs. Green I'll correct it right away. Did I sound mean? ._.

Just to be clear on this kind if thing, while I appeciate the sentiment in this kind of post, I don’t want you guys worry about it. Errors like this are an envitable part of the animation process, and I am certainly no stranger to them. I am not personally offended by the mere act of someone pointing them out. Given that my videos tend to be sprinkled with details and references that can be tricky to notice on a first viewing, it’s a pretty natural thing for people to notice my blunders along side the details.

I’m also no stranger to pointing errors out myself. Back when I worked on Double Rainboom (where we had a multitude of animators), when we were nearly finished with everything, I went and watched it through multiple times to try to make note of where there were any errors. Those notes wound up being like 20 PAGES long. Me keeping track of these errors wasn’t me trying to “flex my superiority” over my fellow animators or anything like that. I just wanted to ensure the final product was as error free for the sake of both the audience AND the animators. I didn’t catch all the errors and some video editing shenanigans managed to add some to the final version (including scenes I personally worked on). Even when you are specifically set out to catch all these errors and glitches, sometimes they just fall through the cracks.

In all my time observing various fandoms and their reactions toward critiqing stuff, I always felt like people were injecting too much emotion into the process. It’s great to be passionate about something, don’t get me wrong, but being enthusiastic about something is not an excuse to trample over someone because you had an issue with what they were doing. I feel as though critique and INTERPRETING critique needs to be an objective process. When you hear someone being nasty at you, the odds of you even listening to them is… not exactly going to be high. If anything you are just making them resent the advice that was trying to be given and probably doing more harm than good.

While I didn’t really want to intervene much with my newfound fandom, I would at the very least like to request one thing out of all you. Don’t let negativity influence your interactions with me or your fellow fans. I don’t want ya’ll getting on Bossling or ANYONE’S case about this sort of thing, or, well for any reason for that matter. Try and remain considerate toward your fellow fan (or not-fan, for the matter) at all times. Fandoms should remain a positive experience, not one bogged down with ya’ll barking at each other for no good reason.

Oh, and one other thing. Just because I managed to stummble onto forming my own fandom, that in no way means I am immune from recieving futher critique from fans. Just be reasonable about it and ya’ll should be fine.

*End Rant*

((HAHA I'LL NAME THIS LATER???)) Part 1

(( don’t have a title for this yet! This is the fic I wrote because I wanted Bog to call her Butterfly. But it’s turning a bit more intense? So I’ll make it a big thing. So this will have multiple parts, and I’m working on coming up with an AU too, so keep an eye out.))

“There you are butterfly,”

The queen sat atop her newly crafted throne, her legs crossed and her eyes closed. Resting on her head was her crown, golden and shimmering in the morning light, with amethysts that shone as bright as her gossamer wings that were flared behind her. She wore a more regal dress than her usual attire, the golden hem clinging to her bodice, the black and purple skirt dragged across the floor as she readjusted herself. She looked to her husband, standing in the entrance to the throne room, his newly sharpened armor making his usually edged lines finely jaded. But his steely blue eyes were soft on her, as they had always been.

He walked through the room, making his way slowly towards her. They hadn’t seen each other all day, their chores and duties causing them to continuously miss each other. Marianne smiled as he picked his pace up to a run, and leapt over to her, flittering his wings wildly. They looked into each other for a moment before letting their lips meet in a short but breath taking kiss. He pulled away to sit down in his throne next to hers, holding her hand in his. She didn’t open her eyes for some time, letting him caress her hand within his own; feeling his rough scaly fingertips brush her soft, squishy palm.

The throne room had recently been redone, adding three new thrones, and expanding the entire room. Mariannes throne was positioned directly next to Bogs, decorated in flowers and made with more cushions than his. It sat at the same height, so that everyone knew they were equals; Bog had originally wanted hers taller than his, but she thought it best if they sat the same. The other two thrones were smaller, and sat at either side of the King and Queens. One was almost a mirror of Mariannes, made with cushions and engraved with leave petals. While the other one, sitting next to Bog, was made more harshly, it was crafted with bark and leaves. The two thrones were for their twins, Thorn, their son, and Venus their daughter. The Prince and Princess of the Dark Forest.

Marianne broke the silence at last, clearing her throat and saying, “I think Father will be visiting today.” The news was at the most, surprising to hear. George, Mariannes father, hadn’t returned to the Dark Forest since Marianne and Bog were wed, a few years ago. The couple had been to the Fairy Kingdom several times, to visit, broker trade deals, and to announce their second pregnancy, but the old fairy King had not ventured over the border in some time. Bog looked to her, her cold, unforgiving glare fashioned at the entrance to the hall, directly across from them. He squeezed her hand gently, reminding her he was there for her.

“Do we know why?” He asked, looking at her still. She let out a long sighed, her shoulders slumping in her seat. Holding off on her answer as Griselda, Bogs mother, walked into the room carrying a bundle of fur. She cooed at the swaddled baby, her face alight with joy as the child chirped back up at her. “He’s hungry,” she stated, climbing up the stairs to the thrones.

Marianne smiled down at her mother in law and reached for the baby. “Thank you Griselda,” she said, taking her son in her arms. “Where are Thorn and Venus, do you know?”

The tiny baby giggled up at his mother, reaching for bits of her hair that hung lower than the rest. Bog leaned over, unbuckling the back strap of Mariannes shirt to allow access to the child. The Queen then positioned the baby’s mouth in front of her breast, allowing him to latch on and begin to suckle. “I haven’t seen the Angels all morning!” Griselda said, sitting down on the step closest to the thrones. “But they’re probably off sword fighting again, you know how those two are.”

Marianne hummed quietly in response, watching her newborn drink. Unlike Thorn and Venus, Fern was a quiet baby, and cried only once, when held by Sugar Plum soon after his birth. Fern was born soft, no sharp bits poking off of him, no rough edges or hard lines. But he was born with wings, which was rare for a fairy, and even rarer still for a Goblin. His wings resembled his Aunt Dawns closely, but were transparent like his fathers. More to the point he had 6 of them, where fairies would only have 2 to 4. Making him extremely special and delicate. Bog had refused to hold him for the first few weeks, terrified he would break him.

Just as Bog was about to call to summon his children, they came bursting through the door. Crashing into each other, their wooden swords falling to the ground. “You dastardly beast!” Venus shrieked, slashing her claw at him teasingly.

Bog stood, not letting go of Mariannes hand, and smiled at his offspring as they danced around the room, play fighting. “How dare you lay your hand upon the one true heir!” Thorn yelled, kicking his sister across the room. Venus laughed, and puffed her wings out, the purple and blue making her look twice her size. Thorn followed suit, extending his own, his translucent wings, mimicking a dragon flies, lifted the boy up, hovering above the ground.

The twins circled each other for a moment, neither one attacking, before hearing their mother clear her throat. “Ahem,” she coughed, and the two froze. They hadn’t even realized that their play fighting had brought them all the way to the throne room. They lowered their wings and tucked them behind them, bowing their heads, “sorry mother,” they said in unison.

Bogs smile grew, and he grabbed his staff, releasing Mariannes hand, he flew down in front of them. “Now children, what have we said about sparring?” He said, his voice deep and menacing. Thorn and Venus looked at each other, their eyes fearful, then Thorn said, “to… To keep our elbows in?”

Bog patted his son on the head, tussling his Amber curls, “that’s right boy!” He crouched down and started giving them a good lesson in sword fighting, the two royals bouncing up and down with glee.

Marianne smiled down lovingly at the three of them, and Griselda sighed, “everything I ever could have asked for,” Marianne looked down to her baby boy, and began unraveling him from the fur, exposing his tiny, pudgy figure. Fern giggled as she poked his tummy, and he let go of her breast to gaze up at her. Swift as she could she wrapped his wings around his minuscule body, making his own little cocoon of a blanket. The softness of his young wings cradled him, covering his arms and legs. She held her son, and stood to approach her husband.

Bog and the Twins had engaged in an epic sword battle, Bog using one of their play swords instead of his staff, which he’d lain on the ground. Venus had flown up and perched herself on her fathers back, swinging her sword wildly at her brother. Marianne handed her youngest to Griselda, who fumbled a bit, never understanding why Marianne always wrapped him in his wings. It made him far too delicate, too soft.

Marianne grabbed her son and lifted him onto her shoulders. The boy cackled with glee, swinging his sword straight at his sister, barely missing. “Mom you’re still too short!” Thorn whined. He was right of course, Marianne stood several heads shorter than Bog, even with her son propped up on top of her. She thought at first she’d just fly up, but her regal dress was far too heavy for any sort of flight. Cursing at the gown makers for forcing her to wear something so grand, she yanked at the strings at the back, and the entire dress collapsed under her.

Bog blushed as the lilac gown fell to the floor, had he known it could be removed so easily he would have down that before. Marianne was left in her underclothes, which seemed to be tight fitting, and meant for quick movement. She wore her usual leggings and boots, but her top half was very different from normal. Clinging to her torso was a white and black corset, laced down the sides with spider string. Her usual skirt was missing, replaced with fairly short, and tight, black pants, that only reached down to about her knees. They had a strange pattern on them, and it took him a minute to realize that they were flower petals.

Now with nothing holding her down, Marianne could fly. She extended her wings, and with two strokes, she sat eye level with Bog. The children giggled, now able to have a real battle. Bog winked at Marianne, pointing his wooden sword at her chest. “You’re unarmed.” He laughed. But while Bog had been staring at her new attire, he hadn’t noticed that she’d picked up his staff, and was pointing it at his stomach.

“Am I now?” She smiled devilishly into his eyes. He was thrilled, it had been weeks at least since the two of them had seriously sparred. And even now with their children fighting on their shoulders, they could still have their own little battle below. Bog knocked Mariannes attack away, and the two separated, standing, pacing on either side of the room. “Get ‘er Daddy!” Venus said, a little bit of her fathers accent leaking into her own.

“Mommas gonna kick yer butt!” Thorn retorted, bouncing around on his mother shoulders. Marianne laughed, knowing she’d never win with him jumping on her. Bog lunged, the wooden sword pointed straight for his wife’s abdomen, but Marianne countered, and the sword slid along the edge of the staff, throwing Bogs footing off. He struggled to keep Venus balanced on top of him, and the little princess let out a gasp as she nearly slid off.

Marianne flinched, her arms extended to catch Venus if she fell. Then Bog realized he had the upper hand, he tilted to the side, and Venus fell, plopping into his mothers arms. While she was distracted, Bog spun around her, wrapping one arm around her waist,mans the other held his sword against her throat. “Low blow,” she gasped, leaning into Bog. Thorn climbed over his father and latched onto his neck. “Using your own daughter as bait?” She started to laugh a little. Venus of course didn’t find it funny, she huffed and glared up at her mom, wriggling in her hands.

Bog retracted his sword, as his son climbed around his face, stepping on his nose and nearly tumbling down his back. Marianne began tickled her daughter, teasing her and watching her giggle. Bog grabbed Thorn and held him above his head, exposing his soft tummy, bog buried his face in it and began to blow raspberries. Both children’s laughter, and oh no please stop’s, echoed throughout the room, Griselda laughed along with her grandbabies as Fern cooed in her arms.

(( Yay part 1! Weirdly I wrote most of this at work, I’m horrible but that where I write best… I’m already halfway done with part two, and will probably post some time later tomorrow, I’ll try my best to do once a day with this fic. Hope you guys enjoyed!))