shinysylver (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shinysylver) wrote2011-04-06 11:21 pm
shinysylver) wrote2011-04-06 11:21 pm
Stream of Consciousness Steve-Style
So ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jesseofthenorth encouraged me to do a writing exercise for my 500 words today. I started out trying to write about everything Steve has in his cargo pants...but it got kinda stream of consciousness crazy. jesseofthenorth read it and seems to think it is worth posting so here it is:
Steve was always prepared for any and all eventualities. Fire fight on the beach? Not to worry Steve always had at least two guns, three knives, and a box cutter or two tucked away on his person. Handcuffed in a dark cellar? Steve had a lock pick set, a skeleton key, a nail file, and a small LED flashlight in the various pockets of his cargos. He would be out in no time. In fact there were very few things that Steve didn’t keep in his cargo pants. He had it all from first aid supplies to high calorie crackers.
Steve always wore cargo pants for a reason and that reason wasn’t fashion or even comfort. He wore them in order to store everything he might need. Although, they were much more comfortable than the slacks that Danny and most of the other detectives wore and Steve was just vain enough to realize that they made his ass look fantastic. Not that he had been standing in front of the mirror looking. Not at all…
Anyway, not everything he carried was for battle or survival. He had other practical uses for the pockets. When he went out for beers with Danny, he could hide his wallet in a small out of the way leg pocket and no matter how often Danny groped his ass he wouldn’t find it. And speaking of Danny groping his ass…he had one whole pocket devoted to condoms and lube. Well condoms, lube, and a tire gauge but that’s just because he was running out of space. Not because they used the tire gauge during sex. That would be silly.
It really was a good thing that he was a good packer because he had a lot of shit in his pockets. Figuring out how to distribute everything so that he didn’t tilt to one side or look like he was covered in strange growths was hard, especially that time that he had to hide an entire pineapple. He really didn’t understand why Danny wouldn’t even let the fruit into his apartment. Steve had seen him eat a slice in that frou-frou girly drink so he knew that Danny couldn’t hate the fruit that much. He just hated to let Steve win at anything. But Steve had smuggled it in anyway.
And yet, even knowing everything that Steve used his cargos for, Danny still made fun of him for them. Pac Man in Cargo pants indeed. He chose to take that as a compliment. After all Pac Man was one of the coolest video games of all time. Even Danny had to think so if he was bragging about making it to Triple Banana level. Steve still didn’t know about that one. He was a bit suspicious that Danny just said that to draw attention to his dick, which is indeed quite banana like. Steve did like bananas. They were his second favorite fruit after pineapples, although he didn’t really want to use pineapples as a sexual metaphor. Too prickly.
jesseofthenorth encouraged me to do a writing exercise for my 500 words today. I started out trying to write about everything Steve has in his cargo pants...but it got kinda stream of consciousness crazy. jesseofthenorth read it and seems to think it is worth posting so here it is:Steve was always prepared for any and all eventualities. Fire fight on the beach? Not to worry Steve always had at least two guns, three knives, and a box cutter or two tucked away on his person. Handcuffed in a dark cellar? Steve had a lock pick set, a skeleton key, a nail file, and a small LED flashlight in the various pockets of his cargos. He would be out in no time. In fact there were very few things that Steve didn’t keep in his cargo pants. He had it all from first aid supplies to high calorie crackers.
Steve always wore cargo pants for a reason and that reason wasn’t fashion or even comfort. He wore them in order to store everything he might need. Although, they were much more comfortable than the slacks that Danny and most of the other detectives wore and Steve was just vain enough to realize that they made his ass look fantastic. Not that he had been standing in front of the mirror looking. Not at all…
Anyway, not everything he carried was for battle or survival. He had other practical uses for the pockets. When he went out for beers with Danny, he could hide his wallet in a small out of the way leg pocket and no matter how often Danny groped his ass he wouldn’t find it. And speaking of Danny groping his ass…he had one whole pocket devoted to condoms and lube. Well condoms, lube, and a tire gauge but that’s just because he was running out of space. Not because they used the tire gauge during sex. That would be silly.
It really was a good thing that he was a good packer because he had a lot of shit in his pockets. Figuring out how to distribute everything so that he didn’t tilt to one side or look like he was covered in strange growths was hard, especially that time that he had to hide an entire pineapple. He really didn’t understand why Danny wouldn’t even let the fruit into his apartment. Steve had seen him eat a slice in that frou-frou girly drink so he knew that Danny couldn’t hate the fruit that much. He just hated to let Steve win at anything. But Steve had smuggled it in anyway.
And yet, even knowing everything that Steve used his cargos for, Danny still made fun of him for them. Pac Man in Cargo pants indeed. He chose to take that as a compliment. After all Pac Man was one of the coolest video games of all time. Even Danny had to think so if he was bragging about making it to Triple Banana level. Steve still didn’t know about that one. He was a bit suspicious that Danny just said that to draw attention to his dick, which is indeed quite banana like. Steve did like bananas. They were his second favorite fruit after pineapples, although he didn’t really want to use pineapples as a sexual metaphor. Too prickly.