(2/2) It DOES get loud and crowded in the apartment sometimes though, so when Feuilly wants some peace and quiet he goes over to Enjolras’ house, or Prouvaire’s – they can tell when he just wants to have some space to think, and don’t mind a companionable silence. (They usually end up in big conversations eventually, anyway, but he gets that time to decompress first–and if he just falls asleep instead, neither of them minds at all.)
Ohhh! I had honestly NEVER considered this! I’ve wondered about Feuilly’s lodgings, because I don’t know a lot about how, realistically, a young worker making 3 francs or less per day would live, but this is lovely. It’s crowded, yeah, but it also explains how he actually has time for his political pursuits, if they cook for each other and stuff like – whatever few chores there must be.
And now I want to write fic about this! there’s a lot of aspects to this: how does the he feel sharing this space with a family, being a part of their lives but also – separate? How is he with the children ahhh that has such cute potential. But also like – is he worried about what his involvement on groups and politics might mean for them? after all, they are a family, concequences would be much bigger for them – or are they involved in some ways too?
did they look for him at the barricade, did it mean he actually did leave people behind
let me tell you about the amazing potential of Cosette and Feuilly as foster siblings opening a coffee shop together
It has a large counter in a U shape, and one half of it is decidated to the coffee and the other to the tea; there are plants and dainty tea cups and feature art and crafts from local people, which Cosette and Feuilly still personally pick and they have impeccable taste
it’s all open space and large tables, there are workshop organised every week – first it’s their friends teaching whoever wants to come about skills, relaxation techniques, or discussions about what’s happening in the world, but it ends up being so popular they have an actual schedule and a website to book your place in one of these workshops
they have poetry nights, too
Cosette makes the sweetest hot chocolates and chai lattes and Feuilly’s so good with latte art
they hire pretty much anyone who needs a job, no matter what their pasts or experiences are – that’s how Marius ended up learning how to make pastries, and he’s good at it
they have a suspended coffee system that never go under a dozen suspended coffees available
because Valjean’s not getting any younger, he feels bad about not being able to do as much as before, and Cosette and Feuilly know he’s getting a bit lonely, so they 100% include him in their venture and he works there part time and he loves it and he meets people and talk to them and I’m so happy guys I just want Jean Valjean to be happy that’s the only thing that matters
AN OPPORTUNITY TO TALK ABOUT FEUILLY! thank you friend 😀
- so. he’s a complete nerd. like, he really is. His Brick description is not so much a list of personality traits as a list of special interests. That, actually, says a lot about his personality. He’s passionate, and enthusiastic, and a giant nerd.
- kind of awkward too? he’s pretty confident about his knowledge of said interests, but he talks about them – all the time. even when it’s not really related to the subject at hand. He rants whenever someone – willingly or not – gives him the opportunity to. he gets so offended on the behalf of others and injustices and betrayal. every single time. Bless him.
- He considers his own education as a way to deliver himself. He learned to read and write by himself, and while this would be impressive about anyone, but it’s even more knowing what we do about Feuilly’s background. He probably started working/apprenticeship really young, because the orphanage or wherever he was staying wouldn’t – couldn’t – have kept him on forever. But he still taught himself to read, seeing it as a mean to rise up beyond his circumstances. That’s more than hard work – that’s hope and ambition and dedication and desparation all blended together.
- and he never loses that? it’s liked to his passion, really – he knows he/the world can be better, and he holds on to that, always strives towards that, even though his life must have been really difficult sometimes.
- honestly he’s like the opposite of Grantaire in many ways – he has every reason in the world to be bitter and cynical, but he’s not. he’s so passionate (I’ve said it like three times oops) and he’s so. trusting? like. even more than Combeferre, who wasn’t surprised when the generals didn’t come to their aid. Feuilly was genuinely heartbroken over it, like – you’d have totally expected him to know that these higher-ups would have let them down like they’ve let them all down before, and he’s been let down a lot in his life, but he didn’t. whether he’s instinctively trusting or makes himself trust because he refuses to be bitter is a matter of interpretation, but. that’s really something.
- it’s one of the reasons I picture him as a bit younger than most of the fandom does, really, because 1) being a worker in the 1820s/1830s (or today really) doesn’t at all mean that he has to be older than students, especially if it’s such a big deal that he never got to go to school in the first place, and 2) that idealism and trust and enthusiasm sentimental aspect of his personality just seems different than the sort of laid-back experience of the older members like Bahorel and Bossuet, idk.
- oh man this is already so long why.
- I haven’t even gotten to fanon/improvised traits I like to give him.
- he’s just. a cutie. okay I’ll try to find other posts I’ve written about this before and reblog them.
my gripes about the way Feuilly is portrayed in fandom is usually when two (often related) things happen: his canon personality gets replaced by a bunch of classist cliches, like grumpy, swearing, fighting, macho, rude, close-minded etc, or when he becomes a sort of Bahorel-lite, with fighting, drinking, swearing, loud, and always mentionned as part of ‘BahorelandFeuilly’, never as an individual person (I dislike Bahorel’s characterisation in that too, but he usually is at least a little better? closer to his actual personality? anyway)
besides these two frankly terrible trends, I think, as with every character in this fandom, we have some leeway when it comes to personality traits. We have the descriptions in the book, which are frankly both precise and vague at the same time it’s kind of beautiful, as well as the way they’re played in the musical, different movies/shows/etc. so. my take on characters is not more valid than any other that’s done with, you know, some thoughts and consideration for the material and implications.
enjolras is so affectionate when he’s sleepy?? it’s ridiculous. he either curls up around you and starts playing with your hair and complimenting you or he sends long winded texts/vn about how much he loves his friends. it’s ten times worse if feuilly is around
(the symbolism of this moment is painfully apparent to both of them )
Yeah that’s… exactly as sad as I thought it would be, and the colours only add to the effect.
I’m glad you…like??..it? It’s good that the suffering is adequate?!?! oh gad why do I like a history fiction
So I wasn’t going to do anything this year, and then suddenly this happened. It’s unproofread, so don’t hesitate to alert me to any typos – I’m super rusty at this, so I expect there are many.
Though Enjolras had ordered sleep, Feuilly was not alone in quietly tending to his affairs. Around him, men sorted through their pockets, refilled pipes, scribbled hasty notes to their loved ones on any scrap of paper they could find. He heard murmurs of conversation as his comrades sat in twos and threes, clasping hands and brushing shoulders. He had never been a soldier, but he somehow knew that this very scene had played out countless times before in countless places across the globe. He felt as though he were part of a never-ending play, as though he had stepped into a role played by countless actors before him, one that would be reprized until the bloody curtain of history at last fell on the human race. The thought offered as much comfort as it did despair – never had he felt himself more part of the world as he did now, squatting crouched behind their barricade, the streets beneath his feet uneven and dripping with blood and with history. He felt as though he could reach out and touch all the others who sat, as he did, awaiting death with open eyes and a steady heart.
“Are you not going to take our general’s words to heart?”