oh, it REALLY is
like, everyone knows Combeferre is ridiculously knowledgeable about everything. And of COURSE Grantaire can do quotes and citations from every book and article he’s read since he was 12, it’s kinda spooky.
But everyone forgets about Bossuet. Everyone forgets he can and does engage everybody in conversation all the time about whatever they’re into, he’s an easygoing guy, he lets other people go on about their interests, and he listens, and he remembers, and now he’s kicking everyone’s ass at this game by your powers combined.
They’re doing it in teams, and somehow they all end up on the same side. It’s a bloodbath.
it happened once. ONLY ONCE. Now they are Not Allowed to be on the same team, and also they have to have on their team at least one (1) of the following players, for balance : Enjolras, Feuilly, Marius, or Joly* (who are of course all terrifyingly smart, but with a much narrower focus of interests than the game really rewards)
Also, following the Great Boardgame Bloodbath of 1829, Joly and Bossuet are Not Allowed to be on the same team, in any game, ever.
*Joly WOULD have a much wider range of interests, but : Med School. He weeps for all the popular entertainment he’s not having time for these days.
Joly, ‘Chetta and Bossuet call R “kid” because they have adopted him. That’s it. He’s their adopted child. *wipes tears away*
Musichetta : Be careful with your diet, love, bad cholesterol runs in the family
Grantaire : Why does that matter? I’m adopted!
Bossuet, slamming his fist against the fridge : What? Oh my God! Who told you?
Grantaire: Bossuet, I’m older than you..
For the couples meme: 23, Bini!
23, Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?
oh my god. Bossuet thinks about them on the spot – Joly always thinks about them too late/too slowly, and it’s frustrating to him, so, to compromise, they buy this notepad and put it on the fridge; Joly writes them whenever he thinks about them, leaving them for Bossuet to read when he wakes up in the morning. ❤
Joly and Bossuet in the 25th anniversary (yep, they died together)
Headcanons for Bossuet and Joly?
- Out of the two of them, despite popular belief, Joly is the clumsy one – Bossuet just happens to be on the receiving end of accidents more often than not. So, say there’s an unattended glass of wine on the table. Now, either Joly will accidentally knock it over, only for the contents to land in Bossuet’s lap, or the wine belonged to Bossuet and by the time he gets back to it Grantaire drank it.
- This has never stopped Combeferre from asking them to assist in his experiments – Joly is more than enthusiastic and Bossuet’s just happy that his friend is happy, so the occasional need to evacuate the house is just a risk they all accept. Combeferre’s neighbours, well, not so much.
- Actually it was Grantaire who introduced them to each other, before either of the three even knew what ‘Les Amis’ even were.
- Bossuet’s nowhere nearly as proud as Marius or Feuilly when it comes to asking for help but even he draws the line somewhere – and Joly always finds a way to sneak around it. Oh, woe is me, will you look at what that useless tailor did? This coat is way too big for me! Still, it would be a shame to just throw it away, would you like it?
- Both are very fond of practical jokes, but are also mindful of those who are not. Jehan, Enjolras, Feuilly and Combeferre are off limits, but no one else is safe. Musichetta included.
- Bossuet is liable to leave a clutter but Joly prefers his flat clean and in order, which in turn has vastly improved Bossuet’s household habits. (Joly is reasonably well off and he does employ a cleaning lady, but she can’t take care of every single household chore.)
- While Bossuet preferes to stay with Joly it’s not always possible – he has graced the sofas and spare matresses of each and every one of the core members of Les Amis before. Enjolras is a frequent target because he has a whole spare bedroom.
- They never outright stated what’s going on between them… The common members of Les Amis and their other, looser acquaintances only pick up that they are close friends and that’s that. The core members of Les Amis have just quietly filed away the fact that they belong together and either hold the opinion of ‘well, jolly good for them’ or chose not to further examine the question.
- Joly would very much like a cat, but his landlord won’t let him. He makes up for this by feeding all the neighbourhood cats.
- Joly makes a terrible fuss if Bossuet so much as sniffles.
you know the headcanon where Bossuet and Feuilly have a lifehack youtube channel?
I have a better idea: they have a a lifehack testing youtube channel (with scientific and ‘scientific’ explanations from Joly)
**throws kittenfluff into the void**
hellooo you’re taking prompts!! that is very good of you!! :D if you’re in the mood, can i request some Joly/Musichetta/Bossuet (platonic or otherwise, R-involving or otherwise) set in spaaace? or with awkward parental meetings? or (somehow, miraculously) both? :)
(I also had a prompt from @mayleavestars for JMBR coffee shop in space, so clearly I had to do space, coffee shop, and meeting the parents all at once!)
Joly looks up in alarm when Bossuet
skids into the shop during an afternoon lull, his momentum finally
stopped by the counter when he runs into it and promptly bangs his
personal communicator down on it. “I am ruining our weekend plans,”
“Did you forget an appointment
again?” Grantaire calls from the kitchen, where he’s making a batch
of his moon-famous muffins. “I keep telling you, we really need to
start a calendar for all of us so when we get Bahorel and Jehan to
cover for a day or two we can make the most of it.”
“I got a message from my parents,”
says Bossuet, eyes wide, and Joly freezes, because Bossuet adores his
parents, so it must be bad news. Musichetta, who has been ignoring
them with enviable serenity from where she’s planning out the week’s
menu, looks up, so it must be serious. “They bought tickets here
without telling me and they’re arriving this afternoon. On the next
shuttle. Mom sent the message from Earthport so I wouldn’t have time
to prepare myself.”
That is … not disastrous. But it is
definitely very nerve-wracking. Joly takes a deep breath and can
almost feel Musichetta and Grantaire taking one in tandem. He
recovers from his deep breath first. “Um, can I ask why?”
“She said something about bringing
the earth to the moon colony if the moon colony won’t come to earth,
but really it’s to meet you two. Well, three, I keep telling them you
aren’t technically our boyfriend, R, but you’re my roommate, so they
@mamzellecombeferre i can’t copy past your prompt properly or make this super long because TABLET but as promised. The prompt was : Bossuet, Joly et Feuilly + one frayed unraveling sock, two ribbons and a paintbrush.
To find Bossuet sitting in the middle of Joly’s living-room, two candles lightened in front of him, and one sock laying on the ground next to them, was not as shocking to Feuilly now as it might have been a year back. He had been the witness of many odd things in Joly’s (and Bossuet’s really) rooms, and he generally tried not to ask too many questions. Still – Joly had been whispering since he’d arrived with the pamphlets for tomorrow’s evening, and Bossuet looked so serious, that this time Feuilly’s curiosity got the best of him:
“Is everything alright?” He asked, finding himself whispering too despite not knowing why. “What are you doing?”
“Alas,” said Bossuet gravely. “Here lies my last sock. She was as brave as one could living at my feet, but now i fear her time to keep me warm is over at last. I will mourn her as it is proper, for none was as itchy, full of holes yet faithful to the post as she. She will be missed.”
Feuilly blinked. Joly moved around him, and came to put a hand on Bossuet’s shoulder, his face full of sympathy, despite his lips twitching like they wished to smile. Feuilly hesitated, stared at his friends, then thought about his lonely lodgings, and sat in front of Bossuet.
“Why is there only one?” He asked.
Clearly Bossuet hadn’t expected him to play along, because his serious demeanour threatened to break for a moment, before he coughed and answered with as much feeling as possible:
“The other left a while ago, never to be seen again, during a trip to the washing rooms. And while we must applaud her will for freedom, for it is what we all want and wishes for, i’m afraid this was the last straw for this one. Abandonned by all, she decayed until she came to this state. There is nothing to be done with it now. Even our best, most talented seamstress as declared her done for. As such, we are saying goodbye today before burying it.”
Feuilly looked at the sock. It looked indeed in a very bad state, and it was clear it would never fit anyone’s feet again. Still – to throw things away was against his nature. He thought for a moment, and then he straightened up.
“You sock may very well never be a sock again,” he said. “But i have another future for it if you let me try, Bossuet.”
Bossuet looked surprised but intrigued. He waved at him permission, and both Joly and him leaned closer as Feuilly grbbed the sock, and started to examine it before twisting it experimentally.
“I haven’t done this since i was a little boy,” said Feuilly thoughtfully. “Do you guys have some strings?”
Joly looked around, then he asked: “we have ribbons?” And went to retrieve them when Feuilly nodded decisively.
Once in possession of that, Feuilly went to work, and filled the poor sock with one the ribbons, making sure it didn’t spill out of the sock’s hole. Then, he carefully took the other ribbon and tied it up around the sock, until it looked like the sock had a little round head, and a frayed dress, with some imagination.
“There,” he said, pleased. “Now your sock is a doll, and kids will be happy to play with it. I made my first doll like that. Of course, i got better at carving tree branches after that, but nothing truly remplaces little dolls like that. They’re softer.”
He raised his eyes, satisfied, but then saw the faces of Joly and Bossuet. They had stilled, their eyes sad and a bit shocked, and Feuilly suddenly felt embarassed by his creation. It was as if Feuilly’s poor childhood had suddenly invaded the room with all its pitifulness and ugliness, and awkardness was not long to follow. Feuilly flushed in shame, tried to find something to say, anything, to have them forget what he’d said when Joly suddenly declared thoughfully:
“Do you know, if you squint, the doll looks like Grantaire a bit.”
“It does,” said Bossuet, moving closer. “I don’t know if it is the color or the form, but all it misses is the ugly nose.”
“Feuilly,” said Joly, “you know how to paint, don’t you? R left us one of his paintbrushes yesterday, after giving up again to paint us. We should draw his face, and then offer the doll to him. He is no child, but i can only assume he will be delighted we have thought of him.”
Feuilly breathed out slowly. It was truly Bossuet and Joly’s gift, he thought, that none of their sudden cheerfulness felt forced or full of pity. When he smiled, they beamed, and something uncomfortable disappeared in Feuilly’s stomach.
“Alright,” he said, holding the sock doll carefully in his hand. “Let’s make it for Grantaire.”
Friendly reminder that the first person Marius talks to after he had just fallen out with his grandfather is Bossuet.
Marius who has to be absolutely heart-broken and angry, whose father has recently died, who has just made his grandfather kick him out, who has just left his financialy stable, secure life, the only life he’s ever had, who has no idea where to go, what to do, with next to no money and literally no one left.
Marius who then hears this random stranger calling out his name, a man he has never even met before and who just got kicked out of law school for someone he didn’t even know. A completely poor, young man who doesn’t even has a place to live, who does something nice for someone he has never met without expecting anything in return simply out of the sheer goodwill of his heart.
Bossuet is literally the first good thing that happens to Marius in this new, probably absolutely terrifying part of his life that just started.
He is like, the epitome hope here, that things might not be as bad as they seem. That even in the most hopeless times, there’s the brightness of unconditional human kindness.
I just. Love. Bossuet. So. Much.