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fruitcoops · 3 years

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I was watching this video w Megan Rapinoe & Sue Bird (tumblr won’t let me link but it’s from 2 days ago on GQ- they ask each other questions but it’s like quiz style?) and didn’t know if you would want to do something similar for coops? Some of the stuff they said/how they acted reminded me of coops’ dynamic

Anon, this video was the perfect way to spend an evening. Both these women are my role models and they’re unbelievably cute together--go check out the video here if you have the chance! Their dynamic is a lot like how I imagine Coops, too! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“Hey, Lions, we’re back!” Sirius waved at the camera and tapped a short stack on notecards on his thighs. “I’m Captain Sirius Black of the Gryffindor Lions and I’m here with my fiancé, Remus Lupin, to do another couple game.”

“The response to our last few interviews was incredible and we had a great time,” Remus continued. “Miss Marlene McKinnon was kind enough to drag us back in here to answer even more questions!”

“Do you want to go first?”

“Sure.” Remus cleared his throat and pulled the first card. “What are my parents’ first names?”

“Hope and Lyall.”

“Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. What’s my hidden talent?”

“You can sing.”

“Does that count? I feel like most people know that now.”

“Hmm.” Sirius thought for a moment, drumming his fingers on his knees. “You can cook really well.”

“Thank you, baby. What’s my favorite accessory?”

Sirius brightened. “Your watch!”

“Yes!” Remus held it up to the camera—it was simple and elegant, with a leather band and a small face. He wore it with the clock against the inside of his wrist, just above his pulse point. “What is my dream travel destination or vacation?”

“Oh, that’s tough.” Sirius bit his lip in thought. “Seattle? Paris?”

“I do want to go to Seattle, but I’ve always wanted to go to Montreal,” Remus said. “You’ve seen my hometown, but I’ve never been to yours.”

Sirius frowned. “Really?”

“Really. What am I most afraid of?”

“I think…I think you’re most afraid of not being useful,” Sirius said after a moment. “For six years, your job was all about helping people, and it’s not now.”

Remus raised his eyebrows at the camera. “I was going to say the dentist’s office. Goddamn.”

“Sorry,” Sirius laughed. “Yeah, you don’t like medical facilities.”

“I mean, you weren’t wrong about the useful thing,” Remus said. “You still get a point for that. What’s my favorite music, song, or artist to listen to before a game?”

“You don’t have one.”

“That was quick. Half a bonus point for speed. When was our first date and what did we do?”

“Our first official date was just after All-Stars and we went to Sid’s, but we had been together for about three months at that point and just hung out at each other’s houses.”

Remus grinned. “Do you remember what day it was?”

“January 28th.” Sirius gave him a look. “I know for a fact you don’t know what day it was.”

“January 28th.”

“You only know that because I just said it!” Sirius smacked him playfully with his cards. “Next question.”

“What’s my favorite movie and TV show?”

“Jurassic Park and Avatar: The Last Airbender.”

He whistled the first part of the theme song as Sirius did the hand motions. “What’s my shoe size?”

“Oh, god,” Sirius muttered, staring down at the floor. “Eleven? Eleven and a half? You have smaller feet than I do, but not by much.”

“I’m a size ten.”

“Are you really?”

Remus pulled one sneaker off and handed it to him with a laugh. “Check for yourself. Oh, I’d love to know the answer to this one. How do you know when I’m mad at you?”

Sirius tossed his shoe back with a snort. “You make faces.”

Remus seemed surprised. “Do I?”

“Yeah. You’ve got a very expressive face and the second you’re pissed, it’s written all over it. It’s like—” Sirius pursed his lips and scrunched his nose slightly. “I can’t really do it, but anytime I see that I’m like, ‘oh, shit, what did I do?’ Also, you stop calling me baby.”

“That’s what I was going to say. What’s my favorite city to play in?”

“Not Florida.”

“Not fucking Florida,” Remus agreed with a grin.

“Gryffindor for sure.”

“Where was I born?” He gave Sirius a teasing look. “Do you know this time, or should I get my mom on the line?”

Sirius stuck his tongue out. “Madison, Wisconsin.”

Remus glanced at the camera. “We got asked this question in an interview a few months ago and he had to call my mom afterward because he forgot.”

“She made fun of me the whole time,” Sirius pouted.

“What is my favorite food? Oh, you’ll get this one for sure.” Sirius hesitated and Remus’ eyes widened. “Really?”

“I’m a little torn. It’s either my grilled cheese or your dad’s turkey-cranberry thing. Actually, I don’t think you know what your favorite food is.”

Remus nodded slowly. “That’s a really good point. My first thought was grilled cheese, but my dad makes the best postgame sandwiches. I’ll give you that. What’s my favorite hobby?”

“Reading.”

“What did I want to be when I was a kid?”

“A librarian, until you started playing hockey.”

Remus leaned over and high-fived him. “You’re on a roll, baby. What was my jersey number in college?”

“Number six.”

“The transition was so fucking easy,” Remus laughed. “Coach literally came up to me a month before practices started and went ‘hey, what was your old number?’ and I told him, and he looked down at his clipboard and went, ‘cool.’. I got my jersey two weeks later.”

“Is this your last question?”

“It is, indeed. What’s my full birth name?”

“Remus Jehosephat Lupin.”

“That is incorrect.”

“Close enough. It’s Remus John Lupin, which I find endlessly funny.”

“Why is it funny?” Marlene asked off-screen. Remus hid his face behind his notecards as Sirius laughed.

“Because it’s such a basic middle name! I love Hope and Lyall with my entire heart and they’re wonderful people, but they named their sons Remus and Julian and then I think they got stuck. Like, you’ve got these two very uncommon first names and they sort of went ‘fuck it. John and Michael. We’re done.’ It’s just so funny.”

“Whereas your parents went the extra mile and gave you and Reg goddamn supervillain names,” Remus snorted. “The drama of it all, my god.”

“Alright, alright, my turn.” Sirius leaned his elbows on his knees. “What is my favorite color?”

“Blue.”

“How do I like my coffee?”

Remus hissed between his teeth. “Ah, shit, you always make the coffee. With a lot of sugar, right? It’s black with sugar?”

“It can’t be black if it has sugar in it,” Sirius laughed. “But yes, I do put sugar in my coffee. What are three things I never leave the house without?”

“Keys, wallet, phone.”

“My favorite TV show?”

“Why are you going through these so fast? Uh, Avatar.”

“Did I ever have a job that wasn’t playing hockey?”

“Nope.” Remus frowned. “Were you allowed to get a job as a kid?”

“I was not. What’s my favorite ice cream flavor?”

“Cookies and cream.”

Sirius made a buzzer noise. “Incorrect.”

“Is it chocolate?”

“Yep. You get half a point for that. What’s the first meal I ever cooked for you?”

Remus gave him a look. “You don’t remember what you cooked for me, do you?”

“Refresh my memory?”

“No way!” He punched him lightly on the arm. “I’m not falling for my own tricks. Next question.”

“It’s kind of a repeat from earlier. How do you know when I’m mad at you?”

Remus fiddled with the edges of his cards. “You act all weird and Captain-y, and then you get quiet. Just cranky vibes all around.”

“Cranky vibes,” Sirius laughed. “Good to know. What are my favorite movie-watching snacks?”

“Popcorn and…Sweet Tarts?”

“Yes!” Sirius gave him a high-five. “Do you know what I like on my popcorn?”

“Butter and enough salt to kill a Victorian child.”

“Bonus point! What is—oh, shit!” He nearly fumbled the cards onto the floor. “What is my favorite movie of all time?”

“Indiana Jones.”

“Which one?”

“The one with Marian, because she reminds you of me.” Remus looked over at the camera. “I really don’t like snakes.”

“What is the first thing I do when I wake up in the morning?”

“Oh, I think this requires a demonstration. C’mere.”

“Does it really?” Sirius sighed as he laid down next to him.

“For sure.” Remus cuddled into his side and laid his head on his shoulder. “Alright, the key to a true Sirius Black wake-up is getting all four limbs wrapped around the other person like you’re trying to suffocate them with affection.”

“Okay—”

“And then,” Remus continued with a grin. “I go, ‘honey, wake up’—”

“You absolutely do not.”

“In my head, that’s what I say. It’s very sweet. To answer the question, the first thing Sirius does is this.” He buried his face in Sirius’ chest and groaned loudly, then dissolved into snickering as Sirius’ chest began to shake with suppressed laughter. “Stop it, you’re ruining the demonstration!”

“You forgot the part where I have to peel you off me with pliers and grease,” Sirius teased as they stood up, dusting themselves off. The camera crew applauded and they both bowed. “Alright, where were we? What am I most scared of?”

“Losing your friends and family,” Remus said. “Also, spiders and most bugs.”

“You forgot one.”

“Which one? The dish soap bubbles?”

“Losing you.”

A vibrant blush tinted Remus’ cheeks and ears, and he floundered for words. “Oh.”

“You still get the points, though,” Sirius said mildly. “What city do I like playing in the most?”

Remus paused for a moment longer, then shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Uh, Gryffindor. You like the crowd.”

“I do.” Sirius smiled at the camera. “To all the fans out there: you are incredible and there is nothing like skating out with everybody roaring so loud the windows shake. Who is my biggest hockey influence?”

“Now, or when you were younger?”

“Now.”

“It’s Dumo, right?”

Sirius nodded. “On and off the ice. What’s my proudest career moment?”

“Hmm, I wonder,” Remus said sarcastically. “Could it possibly be winning the Stanley Cup?”

“Just maybe,” Sirius laughed. “What’s my most famous celly, and which one’s my favorite?”

Remus grinned. “Lightning McQueen.”

“I hate it when you call it that.” Despite his words, Sirius was smiling. “It’s supposed to be cool!”

“Can you elaborate?” Marlene asked.

“I mean, most people who have seen him play know what I’m talking about,” Remus said, gesturing to the camera. “But Sirius’ famous celly is a double fist pump, and I call it the Lightning McQueen because it’s like ka-chow! It’s also his favorite one, though he dances when we’re skating alone or with a couple of the guys.”

“Shhh, they aren’t supposed to know that!” Sirius covered Remus’ mouth with his notecard. “This is the very last one. What is my biggest pet peeve?”

“When I leave my socks laying around the house.”

“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner! That drives me fucking bonkers. Marley, who won?”

“It wasn’t a competition,” she said off-screen. “Just a Q & A.”

“Who got the most right?” Remus asked.

“You two are hopeless,” she muttered. There were a few beats of silence. “Remus won, with sixteen and a half out of seventeen. Sirius, you had fifteen and a half.”

“No.” Sirius groaned and dropped his head into his hands as Remus whooped.

“Hell yes!”

“My bonus points let you win.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe this.”

Remus faced the camera with a victorious smile. “Thanks for joining us to witness my landslide victory—”

“It was one point.”

“And make sure to like and subscribe for more Lion Pride content! See you around, Lions.” They both mock-saluted, and the video ended.

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visionshadows · 6 years

Text

Mob!Au Part Three

Part One

Part Two

CW: Violence, homophobia

“He’s a ghost,” Hags says when Sid comes into his office. Horny is perched behind him, chewing on a pen. “Mostly a ghost.”

“He was using a different name and it’s not like he was here legally or paying taxes under either name,” Horny says before handing over a few printed out sheets. “He lived in Seattle under the name Alexei Popov. Married, no kids. No idea what the husband thought he did, but he flew to Washington every two weeks to meet with the Russians.”

Sid flips through the few pictures of Evgeni with a shorter man, both of them smiling happily. They’re obviously surveillance photos and he looks at Hags who shrugs a little. Sid knows better than to ask how he gets his material.

“The husband is dead. Popov is listed as missing and is person of interest in the case.”

“Anything else?” Sid asks, looking at a picture of Evgeni in an airport, a briefcase in his hand.

“We can get info on the husband if you want. Malkin did a good job of keeping himself off the web, but he didn’t wipe his husband.”

Sid folds the pictures in half and taps Hags’ shoulder. “Get me everything you can find. I want to know as much as possible when I talk to him this evening.”

“The death was definitely the Russians,” Horny offers. “I don’t know if they made Malkin do it or if they ambushed him, but it was definitely a Russian hit. They won’t figure it out because the Russians don’t operate in the Northwest, but if someone out here took a look at the case, they’d see it immediately.”

“What was his name?” asks Sid after a moment.

“Trevor Daley. They didn’t take each others names. Probably because Malkin wasn’t using his own name.”

“Or they just didn’t want to take each others names,” Horny points out, smacking Hags lightly. “Get with the times. A husband or wife doesn’t have to change their name when they get married.”

“Yes thank you,” Sid interrupts, not interested in listening to Hags and Horny argue about whether or not you should take a spouse’s last name. “I want everything you can get me by 4.”

“On it, boss,” Hags says, slapping Horny on the knee. “We’ll get you everything we can on your wife.”

Sid gives him an unimpressed look before leaving and heading to his own office. He’s going to kill Tanger.

The back of the car is quiet as Sid reads through the material Hags and Horny were able to put together about Trevor and by extension, Evgeni. Social media offered a glimpse into what seemed like a happy relationship. Trevor’s Facebook had anecdotes about what they did as well as events they went to, dinners with friends, movies, their gay hockey league. Very few pictures showed Evgeni’s face. When they were pictured together, Evgeni turned his head or made sure he was slightly behind Trevor so he was partially blocked.

They were very well off financially and most of the money went into a trust for a niece of Daley’s upon his death. There was a dog. Sid doesn’t want to ask about the dog.

There are pictures of the crime scene, Trevor’s hands bound behind him and a hole in forehead. He reads the medical examiner’s report about the injuries that had been inflicted prior to his death. Sid’s stomach twists when he finds out that the Russians cut his balls off.

The details on Alexei Popov are slim. The police are considering him missing but also a person of interest in Daley’s death. They are looking for him, but they are also considering the possibility that Trevor’s death was a hate crime.

Sid shuts the file and looks out the window. He still needs to find out what Evgeni knows and why he isn’t dead as well.

But Sid knows he’s keeping him.

Big Rig is sitting on the couch with Evgeni watching a recorded hockey game when Sid follows Olli into the apartment. He immediately gets up, looking caught out. Sid waves him into the kitchen, leaving Olli with Evgeni. Big Rig is relatively new. He’s still mostly afraid of Sid which is both good and bad.

“How was the day?” asks Sid, getting a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

“Fine. No trouble at all, sir. He mostly slept.”

“I told you not to call me sir,” Sid reminds him. “Did he tell you anything?”

Big Rig flushes, but shakes his head. “No. We talked about food. I helped him cook us some lunch since his arm is injured. Then we talked about hockey mostly.”

“Do you feel comfortable acting as Evgeni’s bodyguard for the time being?” asks Sid. “I would expect you to treat him as you would treat a member of my immediate family.”

Big Rig straightens up and nods. “Of course. No question.”

Sid takes a sip of water and eyes up Big Rig. The kid needs a chance and while Dumo would certainly be a good choice for this assignment, he needs Dumo free for when he needs muscle with him beyond Tanger.

“I expect you back here tomorrow at 8 am. Vero will process your pay increase in your next check,” Sid says to him. “You can go now.”

Big Rig looks like he wants to say something, but instead just nods. “8 am. You got it, boss.”

Sid rolls his eyes. Boss isn’t much better than sir, but it’ll do. Big Rig heads out, leaving Sid alone in the kitchen. He sets out the paperwork he has, spreading it across the table so it’s easy to see.

Olli is sitting on the couch next to Evgeni now, the two of them talking quietly in Finnish. Sid raises an eyebrow at that. He’s going to have to find out how many languages Evgeni speaks as well.

“Evgeni, join me in the kitchen,” Sid interrupts, his tone making it obvious that it was a command.

Evgeni turns his head to look at Sid for a moment before getting to his feet. “Time to talk?”

Sid nods and gestures towards to Olli to follow as well. As Sid’s personal bodyguard, Olli needs to know pretty much everything no matter how private Sid wishes he could be.

Evgeni stops in the doorway, seeing the table covered with papers. Sid pushes gently but inexorably forward and Evgeni goes. He stops again when he sees a picture of Trevor and himself next to the police report.

Evgeni looks over at Sid, his expression blank. “You put pictures of him dead here for me to find?”

Sid shakes his head. He’s cruel, but he’s not looking to break Evgeni. At least not now. “No, but I saw them. Did they make you do it?”

Evgeni picks up the photo. “They make me watch so I remember.”

“Sit,” Sid says as he takes a seat at the table. “You’re a hard man to find information on. My men are very good and they couldn’t find much on you at all under either name.”

“I am also very good at my job,” Evgeni says, tucking away the photo. Sid watches as he visibly steels himself for questioning. “I spend many years not wanting to be found.”

“You have to give me more,” Sid taps the papers. “I don’t who you are.”

Evgeni sighs. “Could I have drink for this? Vodka.”

Sid looks over at Olli, nods slightly. “Tell me why I should be protecting you.”

“My uncle is Vladislav Tretiak and that is why I am alive. My mama would kill him if he let them kill me,” Evgeni says quietly. He accepts the vodka from Olli, taking a long swallow.

Sid sits back in his chair, trying to keep his expression blank. He’s sitting across from the nephew of the man who runs the Bratva, one of Putin’s chosen mobsters, who operates freely in Russia and the United States. Sid’s never met him personally but his Dad has stories about Tretiak that makes Sid’s blood run cold.

“She find out I like boys when I am 16. She tell him to send me to America, train me, and find me safe job. I am to be protected, let me live a life where I am happy. I work for him, work for Bratva, but I am allowed to be me.”

“And he agreed to this?”

“She is his baby sister,” Evgeni says with a watery smile. “I was always his favorite.”

“Does he know you’re here?” asks Sid, accepting a drink from Olli.

Evgeni nods, looking fairly miserable now. “His orders. Ovechkin not lying. Is not joke when he call me wife for you. My uncle, he give me to you as part of the agreement. They all mad. They want me dead, but they not going to say no to him. He already mad they followed me home, killed Trevor, now he have to give me up, give to you. He like Trevor.”

“Why to me though?”

Evgeni drains his glass, setting it down. “My job is to know things, to find out things. I study Crosby family most of all. Everybody know you gay. Know you like pretty boys, spoil them, treat them well for a few months, than let them go. Never let them know much about family. Keep them safe. My uncle, he think you keep me safe now he can’t.”

Sid sips his drink, his gaze locked on Olli’s face. Olli’s expression is as implacable as ever, but Sid knows that he’s going to relay all this information to Duper as soon as possible, get Horny and Hags looking in this direction. Sid’s not even going to have to ask.

“You just lost your husband,” Sid finally says. “You don’t want to be anyone’s wife.”

Evgeni presses his lips together than shakes his head. “No, but I also don’t want to be dead.”

“I am not going to kill you and I am not going to send you back,” Sid says honestly. “If Tretiak wants you here as my wife, I am going to assume he is going to stay away and will keep the rest of the Bratva away. I like that assurance. So I think we can come to an arrangement. I will protect you and keep you safe. You can pretend to be my wife in public. I do not expect you to act like one in private.”

“I would tho -”

Sid waves a hand. “I don’t like fucking people who feel like they have to fuck me. Olli, send Tanger and Flower a message that I need Cath and Vero to take Evgeni out shopping once he’s healed. He needs to look the part.”

Olli nods and leaves the room, Sid knowing he’s going to contact Duper as well. Evgeni’s head is bowed and he’s slipped the picture out again. Sid finishes his drink, watching him.

“Do you want us to make it look like you are dead as well?”

“Please,” Evgeni says, his voice rough. “I do not want people thinking I did that to him.”

“I’ll handle it,” Sid says, getting to his feet. “I’m making chicken stir-fry for dinner. Will you eat that?”

“Yes. Is okay if I go rest for bit first?” Evgeni asks.

“Go on. I’ll get you when dinner is ready,” Sid says easily. “And Evgeni, I am sorry. It looked like a good life.”

Evgeni’s expression is hollow as he looks back at Sid. “It was.”

#mob au #sidgeno fic #cw: violence #cw: homophobia #angst #strangers when we meet

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