A good cause Hawaii Five-0 || Danny/Steve, Grace || PG-13
Danny comes home one night to find Steve sitting crosslegged on the floor facing Grace, sitting in the same pose on the couch. Between the two of them there's a mess of string which just looks like a bad idea in the making, but it seems to make sense to the two of them, who are laughing. Danny wonders who taught his daughter how to knit.
Steve's feeding her yarn, slowly, and patiently winding it up when she has to pull it out for mistakes, which seem to be happening more than actual stitches.
"New school project?" Danny asks, dropping the groceries on the counter. There's nothing that won't hold a few minutes.
"It's for school," Grace says. "We're knitting penguin sweaters."
"They do live on ice," Danny says, sitting down next to her on the couch and giving her a hug. She leans into him for a few seconds, her hands stopping for a minute.
Danny plants a kiss on her hair and lets her straighten up again, so that she can continue working. He catches sight of Steve's face in those few seconds, with that look of how did I get so lucky that he tries to hide from Danny, god knows why, the big goof.
He nudges Steve's knee with his toe to remind him that it's a two-way street, and that to Danny, he's the lucky one before standing up again to go put their food away.
Danny's mostly done when he hears their low voices in the living room, and then Steve's there, just behind him circling his waist with his big, wide, warm hands. Danny leans into his chest as he lets the fridge door drift shut. Steve nibbles on the tip of his ear, and Danny laughs. Not because he's particularly ticklish right there, but because Steve is making him interested in things that aren't exactly appropriate to be thinking about with his daughter about ten feet away, though an open door.
He twists around so that Steve's hands are on his back, fingers playing with the waist of his jeans, and stretches up to kiss Steve. Just a light peck and slight pressure with his hips, a promise for later.
"Uncle Steve!" Grace calls, and Steve kisses him back, squeezing Danny's hips to say yes, later and disappears back into the living room.
John looked up with a boyish grin at Sherlock's flat tone, "Yes, you heard that correctly."
"Penguin sweaters?"
"Yup!"
"Let me see if I have this correctly: You're learning to knit, so that you can knit penguin sweaters."
"Little ones, yup! Little sweaters. For little penguins. They're little penguins so they need little sweaters." John's grin was starting to hurt his cheeks.
He watched as Sherlock sucked in his breath, held it for several seconds, then exploded out with "Why?"
John's grin got even wider, "Because of the oil spills." Oh he was having far too much fun with this, watching Sherlock's microexpressions as his friend tried to work out the logic chain behind this. "The oil sticks to the little penguins' feathers and destroys their protective coating. The rescue workers wash the oil off and that destroys the feathers' water-proofing and insulating qualities, so the little penguins get a chill. So they put these little sweaters on them to keep them warm until their feathers can replenish their coating."
"Alright, I suppose that does make sense," Sherlock conceded, "But why are you going to the trouble of knitting stripes into them?"
"If I'm going to be knitting something as ridiculous as penguin sweaters, I want to have as much fun with it as possible." John grinned wider still as Sherlock gave up. No, no, he couldn't resist... "Want to help? I've got extras."
So he was quite surprised when Sherlock shrugged and said, "Alright, I suppose so. But we'll need to pop 'round to the wools shop, I'm not using those."
John looked at the needles in his hands, "These are wrong? Wait, you know how to knit?"
"Of course," Sherlock shrugged again, "Mummy taught me, and her way was a darned sight faster, I can tell you that."
Now it was John's turn to shrug, "Alright then. Since I'm just learning anyways, I might as well learn to do it your Mum's way if you're so convinced it's better. Let's go."
* * * *
"What."
John and Sherlock looked up with boyish grins at Mycroft's flat tone, "Yes, you heard that correctly."
"You two are knitting penguin sweaters?"
"Yup!" they chorused.
Mycroft pointed an accusing finger at Sherlock, "You are knitting penguin sweaters."
Sherlock held up the tiny tube of wool, "With stripes! In a Fibonacci sequence!"
"And using Mummy's needles too, I note."
"Of course."
"It really is faster," John added.
Mycroft pinched the bridge of his nose. He really didn't know what to say. "Well.... I suppose everyone needs a hobby."
Fibonacci sequence! I bet Sherlock is actually a great knitter. But he never finishes anything because he keep coming up with idea to make it better and starts over again. (This is adorable <3)
(Not so much fic as very brief fragment. But I only had 10 minutes.
Avengers fandom || G
Tony looked at Steve. Then he did a double take and looked at him again. For good measure, third looks were taken. One could never be too careful with these things.
“Are you…knitting? Of course you’re knitting. Of course Captain America knits. Steve, I don’t know how to break this too you, but you’re not actually everyone’s grandma just because you’re from the fifties. There are no laws making you be adorable and old. Nick Fury won’t come after you if you stop making - what the hell is that anyways?”
“It’s a sweater.” Steve told him calmly, ignoring the rest of his outburst. As per usual. “For penguins.”
“Penguin. Sweater. Captain America. Knitting. I take it back, you are everyone’s grandmother. Why Steve. Why. Tell me I didn’t buy a penguin for Avenger’s Mansion last night. I like to think I’d remember something like that. Did the Hulk raid a zoo? Did Loki turn Barton into a penguin? Because if he did Penguineye doesn’t deserve homemade Cap sweaters not after what he did last-“
“There was an oil spill, Tony.” Steve sounded preternaturally calm, even when he was interrupting Tony. “The penguins need help. Avengers help people. So I’m helping.”
“Penguins aren’t people Steve. Not even Clint Barton penguins.”
Steve just shrugged at that. “I saw you rescue a kitten from a tree last week. And I’m pretty sure Black Widow volunteers at animal shelters. Helping animals is practically a secondary part of the Avengers charter by now.”
Why is this so hard to understand, Tony. Why don't you want to save the penguins, Tony. Tony. (Tony secretly spends thousands of dollars buying penguins sweaters after this conversation. Steve must never know.)
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Hawaii Five-0 || Danny/Steve, Grace || PG-13
Danny comes home one night to find Steve sitting crosslegged on the floor facing Grace, sitting in the same pose on the couch. Between the two of them there's a mess of string which just looks like a bad idea in the making, but it seems to make sense to the two of them, who are laughing. Danny wonders who taught his daughter how to knit.
Steve's feeding her yarn, slowly, and patiently winding it up when she has to pull it out for mistakes, which seem to be happening more than actual stitches.
"New school project?" Danny asks, dropping the groceries on the counter. There's nothing that won't hold a few minutes.
"It's for school," Grace says. "We're knitting penguin sweaters."
"They do live on ice," Danny says, sitting down next to her on the couch and giving her a hug. She leans into him for a few seconds, her hands stopping for a minute.
Danny plants a kiss on her hair and lets her straighten up again, so that she can continue working. He catches sight of Steve's face in those few seconds, with that look of how did I get so lucky that he tries to hide from Danny, god knows why, the big goof.
He nudges Steve's knee with his toe to remind him that it's a two-way street, and that to Danny, he's the lucky one before standing up again to go put their food away.
Danny's mostly done when he hears their low voices in the living room, and then Steve's there, just behind him circling his waist with his big, wide, warm hands. Danny leans into his chest as he lets the fridge door drift shut. Steve nibbles on the tip of his ear, and Danny laughs. Not because he's particularly ticklish right there, but because Steve is making him interested in things that aren't exactly appropriate to be thinking about with his daughter about ten feet away, though an open door.
He twists around so that Steve's hands are on his back, fingers playing with the waist of his jeans, and stretches up to kiss Steve. Just a light peck and slight pressure with his hips, a promise for later.
"Uncle Steve!" Grace calls, and Steve kisses him back, squeezing Danny's hips to say yes, later and disappears back into the living room.
Yeah, Danny is definitely the lucky one here.
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"What."
John looked up with a boyish grin at Sherlock's flat tone, "Yes, you heard that correctly."
"Penguin sweaters?"
"Yup!"
"Let me see if I have this correctly: You're learning to knit, so that you can knit penguin sweaters."
"Little ones, yup! Little sweaters. For little penguins. They're little penguins so they need little sweaters." John's grin was starting to hurt his cheeks.
He watched as Sherlock sucked in his breath, held it for several seconds, then exploded out with "Why?"
John's grin got even wider, "Because of the oil spills." Oh he was having far too much fun with this, watching Sherlock's microexpressions as his friend tried to work out the logic chain behind this. "The oil sticks to the little penguins' feathers and destroys their protective coating. The rescue workers wash the oil off and that destroys the feathers' water-proofing and insulating qualities, so the little penguins get a chill. So they put these little sweaters on them to keep them warm until their feathers can replenish their coating."
"Alright, I suppose that does make sense," Sherlock conceded, "But why are you going to the trouble of knitting stripes into them?"
"If I'm going to be knitting something as ridiculous as penguin sweaters, I want to have as much fun with it as possible." John grinned wider still as Sherlock gave up. No, no, he couldn't resist... "Want to help? I've got extras."
So he was quite surprised when Sherlock shrugged and said, "Alright, I suppose so. But we'll need to pop 'round to the wools shop, I'm not using those."
John looked at the needles in his hands, "These are wrong? Wait, you know how to knit?"
"Of course," Sherlock shrugged again, "Mummy taught me, and her way was a darned sight faster, I can tell you that."
Now it was John's turn to shrug, "Alright then. Since I'm just learning anyways, I might as well learn to do it your Mum's way if you're so convinced it's better. Let's go."
* * * *
"What."
John and Sherlock looked up with boyish grins at Mycroft's flat tone, "Yes, you heard that correctly."
"You two are knitting penguin sweaters?"
"Yup!" they chorused.
Mycroft pointed an accusing finger at Sherlock, "You are knitting penguin sweaters."
Sherlock held up the tiny tube of wool, "With stripes! In a Fibonacci sequence!"
"And using Mummy's needles too, I note."
"Of course."
"It really is faster," John added.
Mycroft pinched the bridge of his nose. He really didn't know what to say. "Well.... I suppose everyone needs a hobby."
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Avengers fandom || G
Tony looked at Steve. Then he did a double take and looked at him again. For good measure, third looks were taken. One could never be too careful with these things.
“Are you…knitting? Of course you’re knitting. Of course Captain America knits. Steve, I don’t know how to break this too you, but you’re not actually everyone’s grandma just because you’re from the fifties. There are no laws making you be adorable and old. Nick Fury won’t come after you if you stop making - what the hell is that anyways?”
“It’s a sweater.” Steve told him calmly, ignoring the rest of his outburst. As per usual. “For penguins.”
“Penguin. Sweater. Captain America. Knitting. I take it back, you are everyone’s grandmother. Why Steve. Why. Tell me I didn’t buy a penguin for Avenger’s Mansion last night. I like to think I’d remember something like that. Did the Hulk raid a zoo? Did Loki turn Barton into a penguin? Because if he did Penguineye doesn’t deserve homemade Cap sweaters not after what he did last-“
“There was an oil spill, Tony.” Steve sounded preternaturally calm, even when he was interrupting Tony. “The penguins need help. Avengers help people. So I’m helping.”
“Penguins aren’t people Steve. Not even Clint Barton penguins.”
Steve just shrugged at that. “I saw you rescue a kitten from a tree last week. And I’m pretty sure Black Widow volunteers at animal shelters. Helping animals is practically a secondary part of the Avengers charter by now.”
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