#mousekateer

[bunburie-a-blog]

@mousekateer

     “Hey Cowboy.” Is he the only one feeling the heat here? A bead of sweat rolls down the back of his neck, he feels it trickle down his spine and it makes him shiver in spite of everything else. He’s the first one in their unit to forego the shirt. Maybe he’ll start a trend.

They’ve been stationed out here for what feels like days, sitting around nursing blistered feet and going permanently half-hungry on shitty rations. Snafu himself is sitting pretty with a small collection of cookies and peach jam that he swiped from an army supply drop a few hours ago. He dips a cookie in the jam, swirls it around. Crumbs fall off and speckle through it. He thought about spitting in it to mark it as his, but some of the fuckers around here would eat it regardless. Anyway. He has Cowboy’s attention. It takes him a second to remember why he wanted it in the first place.

     “Why you lookin so glum, boo? We in paradise. Blue skies. You see a cloud up there? We got hours of doin fuck-all but this. ’S just like vacation.”

[jungianthing]

@mousekateer

     “Well this was real fun, but I better absquatulate, bud.”

[beautifuldisneystarship]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!!

[whitestetson]

@mousekateer

‘You look like you’ve done more ropin’ and ridin’ in your life already, more than I ever will do.’ Raylan doesn’t usually have to entertain conversation about his hat directed towards him by other Stetson-wearers. Sometimes exceptions have to be made.

[jungianthing]

@mousekateer

     “Five foot nine, huh.” He thinks he might be the first one to break the silence after Hartman’s gone. He’s barely speaking above a whisper, but it’s the creak that sounds when he lifts up one of his legs and pushes at the underside of the bunk with his foot that really does the job. “That true?”

[bunburie-a-blog]

@mousekateer

     Cowboy comes into the room and Cece is stretched out over the entire sofa. She tips her head back so she can see him, upside down. “Jimmy wrote me about you.”

[jungianthing]

@mousekateer

     It’s hot, but not the kind of wet heat they got used to in Vietnam. Joker’s mom froze orange juice the day before and he’s licking carefully at a homemade popsicle in the shade under the tree in the back yard. He shifts a little and his arm bumps Cowboy’s shoulder.

     He doesn’t often voice the more sensitive thoughts that come tripping through his head, but maybe it’s heatstroke or brainfreeze or just that his impulse control is dangerously low, because he licks a dribble of juice off the back of his hand and says, lightly, “I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

[jungianthing]

@mousekateer

     Joker doesn’t believe in God, and just about every single recruit is aware of that thanks to Hartman’s line of questioning the other day. There’s a service in the chapel on Sundays, to which Joker doesn’t go. Some of the others do, though, either because they actually do believe or because they just want an excuse to get out of the room for a little while. Whatever. It’s not so bad in here when it’s empty. He hobbles over to Cowboy’s bunk and sits down, lifting a leg up onto the bed to inspect his bare foot.

     “Holy shit. Check out the size of this blister, bro.” He sounds delighted.