he's like a leprechaun

1w1wbigher06fan  asked:

Weirdest things sleep deprived Tim has said.

  • “how much money does it cost to End?”
  • “everyone tells me I’m a billionaire but I don’t carry anything but ones and fives so I think they’re lying”
  • “imagine batman but like…he’s wearing all green. he’d be like an oversized, terrifying leprechaun”
  • sometimes he uses like four different languages in one sentences and then he cries and says “I don’t even know what I’m saying.” Jason: “welcome to the club”
  • “what if popcorn was sold by the kernel?”
  • “words spelled with a “gh” that make an “f” sound annoy me so much. why don’t we spell it like “enuff”? I hate English.“

More recaps of our D&D adventures

So the players decide to try and sell the weird Trade Bars they got after killing the ogres, so the Bard decides to do some research on their value. They turn out to be from a Netherise kingdom that died out a few centuries ago and so the bars’ value is no longer exchangeable. (kinda like if the U.S. government ended, U.S. bank notes would be worthless)

When the players got together at the tavern to figure out what to do next, they get confronted by a stranger in a travelling cloak and a backpack full of gear. He says how he heard they were trying to sell the Trade Bars and offers them a job to find and recover more treasure like it. The players decide to get confrontational and ask if the stranger knew where the treasure was, why he didn’t go get it himself? The stranger insists and pulls out a bag that he turns over, causing a cascade of platinum coins to fall out of it and keep pouring for a while to illustrate he’s willing to pay handsomely.

They players agree to help the stranger, but when he insists on a 50/50 split of the profits the players start to argue. After a moment of arguing, the stranger starts to grow and glow blue revealing that he was an Arcane. (an old 2nd edition race of merchants and traders who are known to be very powerful and resourceful, usually getting other people to do what they want by knowing everyone’s price) Since the players had already encountered Arcanes before, they decided it wasn’t worth arguing and settle with the original deal.

The Arcane leads the players through a magical gate on his wagon and points them in the direction of the dungeon the players would be delving into. Once the players find the dungeon’s entrance, they find a single door in the middle of a forest clearing not attached to anything. They try opening it but all it does is fall over to the ground and opens through the ground. The door led to a hallway going straight down. After inspecting the door and discovering nothing more than it being magical, the Monk decides to jump in and promptly gets dropped on his ass as the gravity shifts itself to the new angle. The other players walk in much more respectably.

In the dungeon, the players find a library that’s at a 90 degrees angle where the gravity doesn’t shift, requiring them to climb up on bookcases and desks. This is also where the Sorcerer finds out that the magic rope he got the session before was a Rope of Entanglement by accidentally tying up the Fighter. They also find an armory room with several suits of armor that all come to life and attack, causing a very cluttered combat as the room just barely fit everyone inside.

After the fight with the Animated Armors, the players decide to rest up in that room as there was only one entrance which meant it was easy to guard. On the Sorcerer’s turn at watch, he notices a small man sneak into the room. When he asked what the small man was doing, the small man tried casting a spell on him but the Sorcerer passed the save. The Sorcerer then woke up the others, figuring that if he tried casting a spell on him he likely wasn’t friendly. 

Turns out it was a Leprechaun, hunting for treasure to put in his pot of gold. The players ganged up on him, with the Leprechaun regularly teleporting about and making illusory doubles and all around being a pain for them. At the end, the Sorcerer decided to just blow up the entire room with a Fireball and nearly took out the Leprechaun and the other players. The Leprechaun decided he couldn’t survive much more fighting, so he offered the players a wish for his freedom. The players begrudgingly accept, using the wish to get a magical map that showed them everything around them as far as 300 feet in any direction.

All in all, the session was fun. I really enjoyed how the players interacted with the weird gravity in the dungeon and how much they raged at the little pest of a Leprechaun

Fic: Get A Room

This was done before the finale, so that’s the timeline.

_-_-_-

“Umm. Sir… I’m going to have to ask you and your friends to leave. We don’t allow that kind of folk in these parts.”

Wednesday looked up in surprise. This whole trip was getting really unfortunate for his dark-skinned friend. Sure, they were traveling now in Kentucky, but they didn’t need to be so blatantly racist– Wait-

“What do you mean, “friends”?“

“The gay couple over there.”

He looked back to the booth where everything was as it was; with the exception of a very large ginger haired fellow sitting beside his companion. Huh. I guess he’ll be traveling with us now.

“Oh, no. No, no, no. They are most certainly not that.”

“Sir,” he repeated sternly, “Their faces are inches apart… They’re practically kissing.”

So they were, but it’s all about reading body language. He wondered if the person behind the counter perhaps needed glasses.


“With all do respect, you’re mistaken. That,” he points, “is an old friend, Mad Sweeney, getting into people’s personal space, as usual, in order to assert primeval dominance like a caveman. And that,” he shifts to the man sitting closer to the wall, “Is my chauffeur, Shadow Moon, who is thoroughly done with Mad Sweeney’s shit.”

The Leprechaun, an intimidating figure to most mortals, had his neck bent slightly to glower down at the dead center cause of his rage. Meanwhile, the mortal with a unique, strangely hypnotic name, just had his right arm propped on the table, palm pressed to his cheek. His dark eyes fixated unblinkingly with a calmness that could either be amusement or mute irritation.

How this server could’ve ever thought these two were anything more than people who wished the other didn’t exist was beyond him. The only slight amiable thing about him was the arm Sweeney had slung over the booth behind Shadow’s back; but once again, that was probably tactically encroaching into Shadow’s territory. Just to push how far he could go before the convict snapped.


“You know,” he spoke to no one in particular, but still aware of the young man’s presence, “For man who’d been in prison for three years, he’s awfully compliant. Sweeney could stare at him like that all year and he wouldn’t do anything; disrespect him and he still won’t do anything! (Which is definitely unusual for someone in prison),” Sweeney opens his mouth, ear-splitting grin in place, “But disrespect someone he loves and-”

The convict’s head smashed into the ginger’s face with a resounding crack. Huh. His speed’s improve; Sweeney didn’t see that coming at all. Then again, Shadow’s always used the element of surprise.

Well, now that that’s settled, he returns attention to a now slightly terrified man, “Actually, I think I’d like to order something else. An order of hash browns and a cup of coffee, if you don’t mind,” he said smiling as if the two behind him weren’t trying to stab the other with Shadow Moon’s cutlery. “Make sure the coffee has a lot of cream. Try to make it more cream than coffee if you can.“

“I…uh.., his eyes flicker between Wednesday and the giant leprechaun getting the upper hand, shakily moving a fork downward despite the musclebound brown arm trying to stay it away, "I…”

Wednesday waved his hand, “Oh, don’t worry about them, I’ll straighten them out,” Wednesday consoled before walking toward the table casually.

“Knock it off, you two. We almost got kicked out because they don’t serve gay patrons.”

“How…did they……figure,” Shadow shuddered out harshly, the metal prongs far too close to his left eye. “Call…your boy…..off me.”

“What’s the matter, lad? Need boss man to come save you?”

“I was actually trying…to do you a favor,” Shadow said while managing to shift his leg.

“Is that right? And how’d you figAUGH!!! YOU CUNT!!

With Sweeney leaned over, Shadow shuffled his back to the window of the booth, fork successfully stolen from the Leprechaun’s hand. He threw it on the table and it clattered loudly and fell off the other side, causing more noise when it hit the floor.

The struggle apparently captured most of the diner’s attention; only the sound of the man’s deep breaths and Mad Sweeney’s pained groans existed in the small space.

“You girls done? Because Sweeney, I ordered your coffee with extra cream– it’s coming right. . And Shadow Moon,” he points to his bodyguard, “Stop letting Sweeney rile you. If you keep this up he’s never gonna learn to stop pulling your pigtails and try another approach.”

“What?”
“Fuck you!”
“Don’t worry, Sweeney. You’ll get there. Kneed in the balls gotta at least be first base.”
“Once again, what?”
“Keep your gob shut, Satan
.”
Shadow Moon’s irritated (and confused) expression shifted to one with wide eyes of a dawning realization, and a hint of fear.

No, Shadow Moon!!” Ha! He could barely reign in his laughter, “I’m not literally Satan. I may have done a good many regrettable things in my life, but that doesn’t make me the devil-”

“Debatable,” cut Sweeney.

Wednesday’s good eye settled a glare on the tall ginger, but Shadow had already shown signs of relief, satisfied to know that after all he had been revealed to, he wasn’t discovering he hadn’t been dining across nor been traveling the country with Lucifer.

Wednesday smiled warmly, “I remember a time when you didn’t believe in such hokum as supernatural entities and making snow appear with your mind. Why the change of heart?”

“Are you serious? I just nearly had my eye forked out by a Leprechaun.”

“It’s just his way of saying he likes you-”
“I swear I’ll cut out your fucking tongue-”
“So all of Sweeney’s exes walking around with only one eye,” Shadow joked

“No. I’ve outlived them all so they’re just in stuck in the ground somewhere. And you know what the best part is? They actually stay there. Don’t give me that look, Shadow Moon, all I’m saying is, I don’t have to worry about some puss-filled pale-faced-”

“Sweeney-”

“Stitched up, maggot-infested–”

Sweeney–”

“Rotting, uglyass, dead wife crawling out her grave looking for me.”


“UM…”

The table looked towards the waiter at their table, hesitant to put down the coffee and hash browns, not sure who the order was for, and not sure if he should just run for the hills.

“It’s mine,” the Leprechaun said gruffly, taking the hash browns and coffee…and then having the hash stolen by Shadow, “The fuck!”

Shadow crammed the two hash browns into his mouth before anything could be said, and licked the third one.


“That’s real mature of you, boyo.”

“Fhmmfmhmm”

Sweeney sipped his coffee, but glared at it in disdain. Probably not enough cream. “What’d you say?”

A big gulp. “I said I don’t want to hear that from you,” before Shadow bit down on the last hashbrown.


“At least give me half! I haven’t eaten in days,” Sweeney snatches the half-eaten hash biscuit from Shadow’s mouth.

Wednesday eyed some mortified faces from the booth across; a mother had even turned her child’s head away. “How desperate of you, Sweeney.”


“Yeah, if I’d known you were that hungry, I honestly wouldn’t have touched them.”
“That’s not the desperation I was talking about, Shadow. And hash browns are not what he’s hungry for -”

“Do shut the fuck up and just tell us where next we’re headin’…”

alaska-riversong  asked:

OMG - I just realized that David has that one sweater (you know the one) in all 3 colors (red, blue, and green) of the 3 nephews in Duck Tales. Those sweaters were purchased in the last year, so I'm wondering if you might think that maybe he intentionally bought them with Duck Tales in mind?

genius. If he didn’t purchase them intentionally, I definitely think he’s wearing them intentionally. 

(Although the red one kinda looks like it went through the wash and shrunk amiright? Do you think he borrowed it from someone even smaller than him… like a leprechaun? or a preteen asian supermodel? or a pencil?

Leprechaun

Hi there. I’m just your average fangirl. Please don’t completely judge me based on what I write. I write these fics for fun and to entertain who ever reads them. And remember their called fanFICTION for a reason, don’t take it too serious. Enjoy.

Fanfic: Septiplier, tickle

Summary: Jack denies being a leprechaun like Mark thinks he is. Mark’s determined to prove him wrong.

______________________________________________________________

Today started off as any normal day for Mark and Jack (such a creative beginning right).  Mark was just wandering the halls to their house for something to do, when he spotted Jack walking through the hall on his phone. Mark snuck up behind him and hugged him from behind, earning a small yelp from the irishman.

Jack immediately blushed at the sudden physical contact. He was still a bit new to them “officially” being a couple. And because of this, Mark always liked to tease him about it, just to see how flustered he can get his boyfriend.

“You look so cute when you’re flustered.” Mark teased. “I’m not cute.”

“Why of course you are.” Mark curled his fingers into Jack’s side for emphasis, causing Jack to squeal. “See that was cute.”

“Nohoho it wasn’t.” “Oh. Then perhaps I should take it up a notch.” Mark said lightly skittering his fingers along Jack’s ribs. Jack was instantly put into a endless state of giggles. “Mahahark! Nahahaha!”

“What’s wrong? Are the tickles too much for the little leprechaun?” Mark teased now fastening the pace of his tickling finger. The blush on Jack’s  face grew at the teasing words. Jack’s knees buckled sending him tumbling to the floor. Mark followed him to the ground, pinning his arms above his head to stop any protests and continuing his assault on the man’s ribs.

“MAHAHARK PLEHEHEHASE!” “ Aw. Is the leprechaun a wee bit sensitive?” “I’M NOHOHOT A FUHUHUCKING LEPRECHAUN YOHOHOU BIHIHITCH!” Jack retorted. “Oh really,” Mark said.

“Well let’s see, you have ears like a leprechaun,” He said tracing the rim of Jack’s ear, making Jack squeak. “You have on a green shirt today, like a leprechaun,” He continued, squeezing Jack’s sides. “And you’re voice to go as high as a leprechaun’s,” He said lifting up Jack’s shirt and swirling a finger in his navel, making the irishman squeal. “So you must be a leprechaun.”

“MAHAHARK STOHOHOHOP!” Jack pleaded. “Can’t the leprechaun take a few tickles?” Mark said digging into Jack’s sides. “FAHAHAHACK! MAHAHAHARK!”

“Would the leprechaun like to say something?” Mark asked not stopping his attack. “STOHOHOHOP CAHAHALLING ME A LEPRECHAUN!”

“But that’s what you are. My cute little leprechaun. In fact… I’m not going to stop until you admit it.”

“NOHOHOHO! PLEHEHEHASE!”

“All you gotta do is say that you’re a cute little leprechaun and I’ll stop.”

“NOHOHOHO! N-NEHEHEVER!” “Well, guess I’ll have to take it up another notch.” The older man said drilling his thumbs in Jack’s hips. Jack’s laughter went up an octave, tears pricking the ends of eyes, threatening to fall.

Thankfully for him, Mark began to slow his fingers so that they were lightly tracing shapes along Jack’s sides and Jack’s laughter was reduced to an infinite state of giggles.

“So now, are going to admit that you’re a cute little leprechaun?” Jack hesitated before answering, trying to catch his breath. “I-I’m nohohot a leprecha- FAHAHAHA-!” Mark interrupted Jack by blowing a raspberry on side. His very sensitive right side.

Jack thrashing and kicking like mad as the tickling sensations ran all through his body. And the feeling of Mark’s tickly stubble rubbing against his exposed skin drove his absolutely insane.

“Wrong answer. Now, would you like to try again?” Mark asked innocently. Jack quickly stopped to collected his composure before opening his mouth to answer again.

“Fihihine. I’m a leprecha- AHAHAHA- WHAHAHAT DID I DOHOHO?!”

“You didn’t answer fast enough.” Mark said blowing another raspberry onto Jack’s side. “OH COHOHOME OHOHON!”

“Come on Jackaboy, you can do it. I have faith in you.”

“I-I’m a leprechaun. There, I said it.” “Good. Now say that you’re a ticklish little leprechaun.”

“Oh come on. FAHAHAHA-! ALRIGHT ALRIGHT!” Jack screamed as yet another raspberry was blown onto his ticklish side, but this time he felt Mark purposely rubbing his stubble on his side. He couldn’t possibly handle anymore of this torture if he wanted to keep his sanity intact. Once the tickling sensations slowed to stop he quickly spoke.

“A-Alright. I’m a ticklish little leprechaun. T-There.” Jack said gasping for air as he tried to catch his breath.

“And don’t you forget it.” Mark said letting go of Jack’s wrist and standing up. Jack curled into a ball on the floor, left a giggling mess. “Why are you this laughing? I’m not even tickling you.” “Still tickles.” He said rubbing his side, getting rid of the ghost tickles still lingering on his skin.

Mark chuckled grabbing Jack arm and help him to his feet.“Come on, let’s go watch TV, leprechaun.” Mark said kissing Jack’s cheek. Jack smiled and blushed once again, accepting his role the ticklish little leprechaun he was.

Harlem {Rory Flanagan X Reader}

prompt: based off the song Harlem by New Politics. Reader is Brittany S. Pierce’s sister and has a crush on Rory Flanagan.

Warnings: ??? poor writing?? idk.

Author’s Note: Hey Guys I’m Beth and i don’t really have an authors note at the moment. also look at the gif that i put! isn’t it cool? enjoy the story! :)


Your name: submit What is this?

I spend my money on irregular miracles.

“I want a box of Lucky Charms, but only the marshmallows.” smiled Brittany, your sister. She was talking to the new Irish Kid, Rory Flanagan.

 Without hesitation, he obliged. Brittany kissed him on the cheek and walked away. it was obvious how much he liked her. he was pretending to be a leprechaun for her to talk to him. The moment he moved in with you and your family, she was all he cared for.

He wouldn’t ever notice that 1) she was a lesbian and 2) you were head over heels for him.

“Hey (y/n)” smiled Rory, making his way over to you.

“hey Lucky Charms.” (that was your nickname for him) “Speaking of, how the hell do you plan on doing that?”

“that’s actually why i came over here.”

oh, look at that, yet again, this conversation had gone, once again, to Brittany S. Pierce.

“I need your help. how much money are you willing to spend on cereal?”

Just like you, like me, like everybody else.

“(y/n)! I need to talk to you!”

here we go again.

“what do you want, Lucky?”

“i want to be like you.”

that was so close to the perfect sentence.

“why’s that, then?”

wait for it…

“because Brittany is into tough guys. i mean, you’re tough, right? no offence”

BOOM! There it is.

“why would you want to be like me, when you could be like everybody else?”

he looked down, like you would when you try to build up confidence.

“because i li…” he stopped himself. “because you’re my best friend!”

“Okay, I’ll help. but first, don’t you have a wish to grant, Rory the Leprechaun?”

“crap, yeah, i do. thanks again!” he called, running down the corridoor.

When it gets loud, i turn it up.

“(y/n), open up.”

“sorry, can’t hear you. Music’s too loud”

you turned it up louder.

“(y/n), please open up. i need to talk to you.”

this can’t be good. Rory just went to confess his love to Brittany, and tell her he’s not really a leprechaun.

you killed the music and opened the door. there stood Rory, his eyes all red and puffy.

“Rory, have you been crying?”

“yes. i mean, Brittany’s a lesbian, so that rules out being with her. and she knows i’m not a leprechaun, so she hates me for lying. what do i do now? i really like her. i mean, she’s not as pretty as you or as talented as you or as smart as you and i’m never going to get a chance with either of you now because youre obviously too perfect to like someone like me and- did i say all of that out loud?”

you smiled. “yeah, you did.”

“(y/n) Pierce, will you be my girlfriend?”

“depends on how good of a kisser you are.”

and i think you know where that went.

anonymous asked:

May I prompt some more Deamus? :) Seamus somehow manages to set his last clean shirt (or other piece of clothing of your choice) on fire and has to borrow one from Dean, whose clothes are like ten sizes to big. How would his day go in such a ridiculously unpractical garment?

(You can always prompt more Deamus!  Sorry for the ridiculous wait - enjoy!)

He had to roll the sleeves five times and they were still too long.  It went down to his knees, more like a dress than a shirt.  The collar dipped down too low, making a tie impractical (not that Seamus wore the ties often; plus he’d burned nearly all of those too).  He felt like he was drowning.  And this was all because he’d burned up all his shirts.

Not to mention he’d almost caught this shirt on fire at least five times today; the bigger size apparently made for a higher fire hazard.  It would’ve been more practical to ask Harry for a shirt, they were closer in size, but Dean insisted and Seamus hadn’t been able to say no to him yet.  Besides, his mam was sending him new shirts and they should arrive tomorrow.  He just had to last one day.

“Oh, look!” a shrill voice cried. “Finnigan’s wearing his boyfriend’s shirt today!”

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A Day At The Zoo: Tom Holland x WOC

Still a continuation of Texting Tom and Visiting. Reader is in London with Tom for Christmas. Tom volunteered Reader to be a chaperone with him at the zoo for Paddy’s school field trip. This should be interesting. (The way I wrote this one is Reader is African-American but of course you can always still read if you aren’t AA.)


You were in a nice deep sleep, dreaming about God knows what when you felt multiple sets of hands on you. You jumped up to see Tom, Paddy, and Tess all in your face. “What?” You whined. “Are you ready?” Tom smiled. You wiped your eyes, “Ready for what?”

“You and Tom are going to help chaperone my school field trip.” Paddy smiled. “Say what now?” You pretended to clean your ears. “Babe, I told you this yesterday.”

“You didn’t tell me shit- Sorry Pads.” You tried not to curse in front of the innocent Holland brother. He shrugged, “It’s all good. But come on, please!” 

You adored Paddy and thought he was so cute like a little leprechaun(no offense but Paddy does look like an adorable leprechaun). “Ugh, fine. “


After a nice shower and a quick change, you still weren’t fully awake. “SO you’re telling me I have to be around 20 little fucks?” You whispered to Tom. He laughed and nodded, “It’ll be fine. We just have to make sure they don’t die.”

“What?” You yelled. “I can’t be responsible for another person’s child. I still can barely even take care of myself.”

“While I do agree with you on that one, it isn’t going to be that difficult.” You rolled your eyes at him as he pulled up to Paddy’s school. Paddy jumped out the car and ran over to his friends who were waiting outside for the field trip bus. “I’m only doing this for Paddy. He’s my favorite.”

“So I’m not your favorite.” Tom asked. “Not even close.” You smiled. He opened the car door for you and the children came bum rushing you. “I’m not trying to be responsible for all of these white kids. Get off.” You said pushing them away. Tom pinched the bridge of his nose and pulled you to the side, “Can we not do that race thing today.”

“What race thing? You know I’m not a good runner.” You answered innocently. “Not that kind of race, the one were you point out how white everything is.”

You looked around, “Well considering-”, he interrupted you,”Not today Y/N. Okay? Just for me.” He grabbed your hands and nodded. “Sure.” You smiled. 

The teachers gave you the run down on how the field trip was going to go. You and Tom were to read off the names of the children as they got on the bus. “Who named their child Cornelius?” You and Tom laughed. You read off the names, “Copper!”

“It’s Cooper.” Tom whispered. “Cooper, you know what I meant. Get on the bus.” You pushed the little boy on the bus. “Ibrahim!”

“So your mom couldn’t settle for Abraham. She had to be extra?”

“My mom just likes the letter “I”” The boy answered honestly. “Matilda!” You yelled. The little girl came forward, “Do you have any special powers we should know about?” You asked. She looked genuinely confused, “You’ve never seen the movie Matilda?”

She shook her head, “Oh okay.” You two just stared at each other, “You can get on the bus now.”

“Another Thomas, how original.” You said checking off the 3rd Thomas. “Look at little Harry Potter.” You pointed to the boy. Tom pulled your hand down, “Don’t point.”

You had to do a double take on a name, “Chardonnay?” You asked. The little blond girl came forward, “Your name is Chardonnay?”

“Yes it is.” She said. “Oh okay. You go girl.” You snapped your fingers. 

You yanked Tom close, “I don’t ever want to hear anybody joking on the name  Shaniqua again.”

A little girl walked up to you and Tom, “Hi, I’m Amelia.” Tom got down to her level and smiled, “Hi sweetie. How are you?”

“I’m well. I just wanted to let you know that I am allergic-”
“Oh boy. Here we go.” You said, Tom looked back at you and if looks could kill. “Gluten, Shellfish, Grass, Nuts, Eggs, and Dairy.”

“So you can only eat air and water?” You asked. Tom tried not to laugh, so he took the little girl’s hand. “I’m sure we can find something for you to eat there Amelia.”

She smiled and skipped off to the bus. Tom got up and looked at you, “You’re out of control.” He grabbed you and kissed you on the cheek. 

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Every Bossuet and Joly.  Ever.

Yes, they come in a pair.  Judging Laigles in Les Mis adaptations is a one-joke premise: they always have hair.  Like, almost inevitably.  Until recently, when some dude seems to have actually picked up the book and been like, ‘oh, whaaaaat??  you mean this guy has been bald all along and we haven’t picked up on that???  oh, okay.’  Joly is just lucky to exist in most adaptations, hair or no hair.

When they both exist, Laigle’s shown here on the left, Joly on the right.


^^^1964 Italian miniseries, I Miserabili.  Bossuet exists in this one, but not Joly; sadly, this does happen more than it ought to.  Laigle’s a funny guy in this version, and he’s everything stereotypical that I had always thought excitable, gesturing Italian guys would be.  His version of Blondeau’s Funeral Oration, complete with ridiculous “Blondeau voice” imitation, might be as good as or better than that of our French friend, 1972 Laigle (see below), and certainly more rambling–I think he was making it all up as he went along…


^^^1972 French movie.  Probably the best interpretation of Bossuet and Joly’s relationship ever: these two guys were thick as thieves and completely adorable (both together and separately).  They are goofy dorks and how can we not love them for it.  I’m also really intrigued by Joly’s epic scar under his eye–looks like a saber slash or something, really makes one wonder about the story there.  In this version, they are the ones who are deeply engrossed in writing a crappy comedy play in the scene right before Marius has his epic Napoleon meltdown…With Laigle’s luck, I’m sure a comedy written by him and Joly would’ve turned out wretched, but still they are adorable even while writing wretched comedy.


^^^1982 French movie.  Sorry, Joly, Laigle’s all on his own again in this one.  He’s even getting your girl all to himself, since you’re not around:

But this Laigle is weird, because I get him completely mixed up with Bahorel in this version.  They’re like twins, no joke.  I actually had to re-watch their introductory scene about three times to make a positive ID on my own screencaps of them both…


^^^1985-present, British stage musical.  Okay, I’ll be perfectly honest here: they both exist, and I have no earthly idea which is which.  No, that’s not exact: I know Joly, because he has way more lines than Laigle.  He was also played by an incredibly hot guy on the American Third National Tour:


^^^2007 Japanese animated series, Les Misérables: Shoujo Cosette (レ・ミゼラブル 少女コゼット).  One of these guys is important in this version, and one of them is…not.  Can you guess which is which…?  I’ll give you a hint: one had been around since episode 26, and the other, though mentioned by name in episode 35, only really started showing up right before Lamarque’s funeral, in episode 38.  Also, one of them is clearly animated by the second-string animators, and the other by the third-string animators.

Yes, in this version, Laigle and Joly were not a matched pair.  Laigle was an actual character and Joly was like window dressing.  If anything, Laigle seemed to be more of a pair with Prouvaire…Make sense of that, if you can.


^^^2010 French bande dessinée.  Hm…………I don’t know what to make of this Laigle.  I just want to take all that skeezy beard hair and shove it up onto the top of his head.  Laigle with hair would be less creepy than bald, thickly-bearded Laigle.  And it’s not like Laigle with hair would be a new thing by this point…

There’s absolutely nothing I can say about Joly.  He looks a bit like a grumpy leprechaun here, but otherwise he’s one of the most unremarkable students in this one, at least appearance-wise.  That’s a good thing. 


^^^2012 American-British movie musical.  Ha, for once Joly is the stand-out here.  This guy is hilarious, and as tumblr knows well, he makes for amazing GIFs and funny-face still-shots.  Laigle, well…Let’s just say that I have literally been thinking he was a different guy for the past three years…The curse of the musical has once again caught up to unlucky Bossuet, who still has nothing to do in it and even fewer lines in the movie version than he once had in the stage version.


^^^2014-2015 Japanese manga.  Gotta say, they’re both pretty good here, so far.  Laigle still has too much hair, and Joly looks more like a straight-up sick person and less like a hypochondriac, but hey…I pick my battles.  At least they exist, right?



How unbelievable is it that these two get left out of so many versions?  (Or at least Joly does…)  I thought for sure that the 1934 or 1957 French movies would have them, but nope.  Joly’s not even in the 1982 French movie or the 1964 Italian one, and I thought, like, everybody was.  (Sorry Joly, really, I don’t mean to rub it in.  But hey, at least you’re not Bahorel, amirite?)  None of them are in the 1992 French animated one, and I am perfectly okay with that…