bossuet week

9. ‘I love you’ said when baking chocolate chip cookies

Barely got this in before the end of Bossuet week and so it’s a bit shorter than usual, but hopefully you still enjoy, Nonny!

“I will have you know,” Bossuet said, waving the wooden spoon a bit like it was a conductor’s baton, “people think that I’m clumsy or uncoordinated or whatever, but I’m not.”

“I know,” Joly assured him before popping a chocolate chip into his mouth.

“But that’s not true,” Bossuet continued. “I mean, yeah, ok, sometimes accidents tend to befall me but not because of anything that I did, you know?”

Musichetta nodded, reaching out to wipe a smear of flour off of Bossuet’s cheek. “We know,” she said encouragingly.

Bossuet nodded officiously. “The truth, of course, is that I’m just exceedingly unlucky, and by virtue of that, tend to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, or have things happen in my vicinity that are not remotely my fault but can be blamed on my bad luck.”

“Or your bad timing,” Joly said, nodding.

“And on some occasions, drunkenness and stupidity get involved,” Musichetta said.

Bossuet considered that for a moment. “Fair,” he allowed.

“Anyway,” Joly said, reaching to dip a finger back into the mixing bowl full of cookie dough, “were you going somewhere with this or just stating it for the record?”

“I just want it noted that the cookies — or lack thereof — are not my fault,” Bossuet said, licking the spoon. “After all, I barely even touched the oven and it just…broke.”

Musichetta shrugged. “Think about it this way, though,” she said, gesturing around the kitchen where the three of them sat on the floor, eating the cookie dough that Bossuet had intended to bake, “if the oven hadn’t have broken, would we be sitting here right now sharing an excellent Saturday afternoon without a care in the world?”

“Save for a minor fear of salmonella that we are suppressing,” Joly added under his breath.

Bossuet cocked his head slightly. “I suppose not,” he said in answer to Musichetta’s question. “What are you getting at?”

Musichetta leaned in. “That maybe,” she said, her voice low, “the secret is that we really lucked out this time.”

Bossuet gasped dramatically. “Perish the thought!” he said, but a slow grin was working its way across his flour-streaked face. “Are you calling me lucky?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t go that far…”

Joly and Musichetta both laughed and Bossuet shook his head before tilting his head back to rest it against the oven door. “Well, lucky or not, what I do know is this: I love you both.”

Joly reached out to grab one of his hands, while Musichetta took the other. “And we’re lucky to have you,” Joly told him.

Courfeyrac gives Bossuet some advice on his love life. Joly is an excellent kisser. 

“Joly and Musichetta have been whispering.”

Bossuet hears the scratching of Courfeyrac’s pen cease as he turns around in his chair.

“I thought you were asleep,” Courfeyrac says. “Whispering about what?”

Bossuet crosses his arms behind his head, stretched across Courfeyrac’s sofa. “Me. I think.”

Courfeyrac puts his pen down, casting one last glance at the letter on his desk, only half-written. A love letter of some kind, Bossuet knows, to his current mistress. She’s a clever, funny girl Bossuet’s met before, who seems a lot like Courfeyrac himself, really.

“You?” Courfeyrac asks, quirking one eyebrow. “Why would they whisper about you? There’s no secrets between you and Joly.”

Bossuet scans the ceiling, thinking of what he wants to say. He’s not a worrier by nature, and he usually just takes things in stride.

But this.

This has him…perplexed.

For Bossuetweek 2018, which isn’t over until I say it is ( @laughedateverything, it’s still the 9th where I am)

Over the course of the day, Bossuet shows himself a bad student, a good peacemaker and an even better friend…

Slice of life, 4k, gen, canon era

Excerpt:

Bossuet smiled. A party would cheer up a sad, Joly-deprived day considerably. Joly planned to spend his free time today making up with Musichetta, who had taken to pouting at him rather alarmingly. Bossuet took great care to never get in the middle of their quarrels, but he was quite sure this particular one could be solved simply by limiting talk of cadavers and spending the time saved complimenting and enjoying Musichetta’s excellent qualities.

Yay, I’m not too late for Bossuet Week ! Since I’ve been a little under the weather recently, Bossuet is getting some reste from a cold. But at least he has a nice doctor boyfriend and a nice caring girlfriend to take care of him ! (In this house, when you’re sick, you get to wear Joly’s Ravenclaw scarf. It’s the Law).

Both their cats are rescues. Bossuet found the little black cat under the rain and brought him home. He named him Lucky. The orange one comes from the shelter where Feuilly works. They almost called him like their friend, but finally decided on Tangerine.

They totally did take sexy pics and display them in their room proudly.

Joly perfectly knows that it’s Bad to keep plants in the bedroom. That’s why he gathered a whole bunch of singing flowers on their windowsill. Sometimes, they sing “You are my Sunshine” all together.

So, a cute Bossuet!! Pls leave comments, I need the reassurance??

In this conclave of young heads, there was one bald member …

In honour of Bossuet week, have this [slightly] abridged reading of Bossuet’s first introduction in the Hapgood translation of Les Misérables, Volume III Book IV Chapter I, A Group which barely missed becoming Historic, read by Bossuet himself! 

[C’est la semaine de célébration pour Bossuet, alors nous démontrons cette lecture abrégé de l’introduction de Bossuet dans la traduction Hapgood du livre Les Misérables, Tome III Livre IV Chapitre I, Un groupe qui a failli devenir historique, lis par Bossuet lui-même!]

First encounters - Bossuet Week, day 3 (belated)

“Don’t forget, I need five dollars for school today.”

Gavroche dropped that line casually over breakfast, his emphasis on the first two words like this wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned it. If Bossuet didn’t have a mouthful of Nutella toast and, more importantly, wasn’t trying his level best to be a good influence, he would have called Gavroche out on this directly. Instead, he looked over at Enjolras quizzically. Enjolras had his brow creased in a matching expression.

Hangover nap