I just want to say thank you for all the sacrifices, I know you’ve made a lot, and I appreciate your support and you always being there. I know that it probably wasn’t easy at times, so I’m glad you get a chance to see what it’s like for me to play in the nhl, do what I love to do every day, and I just want to say, I love you. Thanks Mom.
Sid making his Mom cry with the message he recorded for her on Moms’ Weekend :’)
Anonymous said:Can you do a Sydney crosby imagine the way you did your Andre buravosky. Maybe it can begin where they meet at a teammates house then another part: he proposes at the Stanley cup final and then another part: the wedding and then another part: where they start having a family and then it skips to where they have 3 kids and you’re watching your husband teach your kids how to play hockey in the backyard.
A/N: this request if going to take me a long time to get through and i wanna apologize now.. also yes i completely switched up how they met, simply cause i’ve had this idea in my head for a while and thought it’d go well with this request too cause i can keep the story going :))) there will be general dates at the beginning of each part !!!!
Word Count: 3,046
Cole Harbour was abuzz as you drove through the downtown street. A smile tugged on your lips. You knew very well it wasn’t just the vacationing families, a familiar face caused the sudden uproar of the small town. A face you really wouldn’t mind seeing again.
You walked into the hockey area in Sochi with your two children, David and Jace, hoping to surprise your husband, Sidney. Sidney had been in Sochi for the last couple of weeks hoping to secure another gold medal for Canada and they were so close. They’re going to be playing Sweden for gold. You told Sidney that you and the kids couldn’t make it to the game and he was sad, but he understood. It was so hard to tell him that you were coming to Sochi, but somehow you managed to do it. As you and the kids came closer to the arena, you noticed Jonathan Toews, who also helped you plan this, standing by the door. When you finally reached him you gave him a brief hug and thanking him for helping you plan this out. “Anything to make Captain Canada happy.” He said with a smile. You smiled back at him and went through the door. The kids were bouncing up and down excited to see their father. Jon lead you to the ice were they were practicing and the minute the kids saw the ice they let shot towards it, dragging you with them.
They ran to the boards and screamed “DADDY!” Sidney’s head whips around and once he sees you and the kids he smiled so hard you thought his face was going to break. He skates over to where you guys were standing and picks the kids up, one in each arm. He hugs then tightly to his body and kisses their heads murmuring how much his missed them. They look up at him and say in sync “We missed you too, daddy.” Then Jamie Benn and Patrick Sharp offer to take the kids around the arena and they go willingly, excited to meet Sidney’s team mates. Once they take the boys Sidney skates up to you and says “So you couldn’t come, eh?” “Hush, I thought it would be nice to surprise you.” You say with a smirk. His bare hands wrap around your waist and brings you as far as the boards would allow you. “And what a nice surprise it is.” He whispers before connecting your lips together. You both smile in the kiss, realizing how much you both missed each other. “Not to ruin the happy reunion, but we do have to practice.” Carey Price says with a smile. You and Sidney both smile at each before he gives you one finale peck on the lips and heads over to the other bench were the coach is. Jamie and Patrick hand you back David and Jace so you guys can watch their practice.
*time skip to the game
You and the kids were sitting with Trina and Troy Crosby, all decked out in Team Canada clothing. It was already the end of the second period and Team Canada was winning 2-0. You had a good feeling they’d win, but anything could happen. About 5 minutes later both teams came out with determined looks on their faces. You caught Sid’s eye and blew him a kiss and then mouthed “You got this.” He gave you a heart-stopping smile and went to the faceoff circle. The third period was almost done and Team Canada had managed to get another goal, making the score 3-0. As the final seconds counted down and then the buzzer went off, Team Canada had won the gold medal. Everyone jumped up on their feet, screaming at the top of their lungs and hugging pretty much everyone they could reach. The reaction on the ice was the same as the stands, the guys were smiling and man-hugging each other. After everything had calmed down it was time for medals. The smiles never left the faces of team Canada as the medals were put around their necks. You, the boys, and Sidney’s parents all went down to the Zamboni entrance and the minute you got to the open doors, you were wrapped into a big sweaty hug. You smiled at him and leaned your forehead against his. “You did it, baby.” He just gave you a huge smile and kissed you passionately. You kissed back with a smile on your face, which caused Sidney to smile bigger. You pulled away and Sidney put you down just in time to catch two small little bodies. “Daddy, you did it!” They said at the same time. “Yes we did boys, yes we did.”
In January, his mother mentioned that Halifax regional council has proposed a vague bylaw aimed at curbing behavior that might impede traffic. It risked being interpreted as banning street hockey. So Crosby emailed Halifax Mayor Peter Kelly and members of the council urging them to reconsider rewording the bylaw, which they ultimately did.
“It was just one of those things where I could relate to the topic and I had a strong opinion about it,” he said. “Growing up, we played every day. It’s a sport we all love, and we don’t want to lose that.”
A few days later, he received a request from the Cole Harbor Wings, a peewee Triple-A team Crosby had played for as a boy. They were heading to the Quebec International Peewee Hockey Tournament and wondered if Crosby might be able to donate something for the players, a token to send off the team of twelve-year-olds.
When Trina Crosby phoned back Bill Morris at the Cole Harbor Minor Hockey Association, she advised him to bring a truck. Crosby had arranged with Reebok to supply the kids with gloves and helmets, hockey bags and sticks, and even toques.
“Being from a small town, when you go to those international tournaments, it’s not the same,” Crosby said. “It’s kind of looked upon as a small place, and you don’t always have the matching equipment teams from bigger cities or bigger teams have. I tried to help out with some things. No matter where you are or where you go in life or where it takes you, you always have to remember where you are from. For me, it’s just a way of trying to support a place that I loved growing up and am proud to be from.”
Soooooo we're getting comfort fics after that horrid game right? Please?
normally, geno doesn’t get up before sid. but last night was such a bad fucking loss, a shit-the-bed loss that left everyone tired and angry and not inclined to talking, that when he gets up this morning, sid’s still asleep, hair just sticking out of where he’s pulled the comforter around himself.
geno very carefully extracts his left leg from underneath sid and slides out of bed. after a second of thought, he leans over to brush a kiss to the sliver of sid’s forehead just barely peeking out of the blankets.
sid murmurs something indistinctly and rolls over, still all wrapped up in the blanket but now with a little more of his face visible. in sleep he looks less tired and stressed, and geno wants to keep him that way as long as possible, wishing he could sooth away the bruises and mid-playoff skinniness.
unfortunately, he can’t. but – he can make breakfast.
geno pads downstairs, having pulled on some old metallurg sweatpants that are wearing out in the heels and a t-shirt that might actually be sid’s, judging on how it’s riding up. as he walks into sid’s kitchen he stretches from side to side until his back cracks before pulling his phone out of his pocket. somewhere in the depths of his email is a message from trina crosby and a recipe.
twenty minutes later geno hears the sound of sid getting up, doors shutting and taps turning on in the bathroom. he turns back to the griddle, walking over to the sink and getting his fingers wet. with a flick, he gets a couple water drops on the griddle, listening for the sizzle that means it’s hot enough.
he’s just gotten three perfectly sized pancakes flipped when sid appears, yawning and shuffling over to stand in front of the stove. “what are you making?” he asks, voice rough from sleep.
“pancakes,” geno tells him, poking at the edges with his spatula.
“oh,” sid says, pushing his hair off his forehead and peering over geno’s shoulder. “are those – raspberries?”
“mmhmm,” geno hums. “plate?”
sid wordlessly passes over a plate so geno can carefully transfer the pancakes off the griddle. once they’re all off, geno hands it back, grabbing the mixing bowl and pouring out slightly sloppy ovals of batter, making sure there’s enough raspberries in each pancake.
“eat,” geno says, poking at sid’s hip with the clean end of his spatula.
“you don’t want any?” sid asks, politeness kicking in even as he takes two pancakes and starts buttering them.
“eat,” geno repeats, pushing sid over to the barstools by the counter. “i wait. you need food. need to fatten up.”
sid wrinkles his nose at him, but he pours his special maple syrup over his pancakes and obligingly cuts off a bite with his fork. popping it into his mouth, he makes a noise of surprise.
“these are my mom’s pancakes,” he says once he swallows, staring at geno over the counter. “did you – did you make my mom’s pancakes?”
geno nods, checking the edges for popped bubbles. “ask your mama weeks ago, but not make until now.”
“i –” sid stops, voice catching a little. “thanks for – for this,” he says, and geno looks at him over his shoulder. sid’s hair is sticking up and his t-shirt is a little too big and he still looks so tired, but when he smiles at geno, it makes something stick in geno’s throat.
“i take care of you,” he replies, voice a little rough, and turns back to flip the pancakes.
Sid and Geno celebrating some tiny/big milestone for their toddler daughter.
for an adoption, it goes pretty easy. elena takes a liking to them the first time she meets them, six months pregnant and without options for taking care of her baby, and when she goes into labor three weeks before the due date, they’re sitting in the waiting room, geno staring blearily into his cup of coffee while sid half naps on his shoulder.
the baby, when she’s born, is obviously amazing – anna taylor, they name her, and she’s beautiful, tiny and wrinkled and perfect. she fits in one of geno’s hands when she sleeps, and sid crowds in close as geno cradles her at the hospital, sighing as he leans his head on geno’s shoulder.
however perfect anna is, though, she isn’t necessarily a very happy baby. she’s much more prone to staring at either of her fathers very seriously, like she isn’t quite sure what to make of them, and when the two months passes and she still doesn’t smile at them, sid starts to get worried.
“we’re supposed to be seeing social smiles right now,” he reads off his phone as geno bounces anna, testing the bottle he just made with a drop on the wrist.
“is probably fine, sid,” he replies as anna latches onto the bottle and coos. “not worry until three months, yes? anya just very serious baby.”
“still,” sid says, glancing at him worriedly, and geno walks over, dropping a kiss on sid’s forehead.
“will be fine,” he says, pulling a face at anna as she stares up at them both. “you see.”
“i know,” sid says, not quite disagreeing, but he still sighs hugely before reaching for anna. “here, i’ll take her. aren’t you supposed to call your mother?”
“ugh,” geno groans, but he hands anna over, watching as sid settles her into the crook of his elbow, taking the bottle and slipping it back into anna’s mouth before she can even cry about missing it.
he may or may not spend the entire phone call home watching sid with anna, focus mostly on how sid murmurs to her and gives her small smiles, but, well. his mother can deal.
two weeks later, the two of them are doing tummy time in the living room – sid had to call home, and that of course turned into half an hour of hearing all the news from cole harbor that trina crosby sees fit to give him. the game’s on, and anna’s reaching for her stuffed iceburgh and making small noises, and geno can hear sid in the kitchen, occasionally making humming noises and sighing.
“come on, anya,” geno says softly, pulling a face and dancing iceburgh away. “come a little closer – that’s it!”
anna babbles at him, reaching out for the penguin, and then – oh.
“sid,” geno calls, still staring as their daughter beams at him, or possibly the toy. “sid.”
“geno?” sid asks, skidding into the living room. “what is it? are you both –”
“we fine,” geno says, unwilling to look away from anna’s face as she smiles at him, all gums. “come see.”
“i’m going to have to call you back,” sid tells his mom, and then he crouches down next to geno. “geno, what – oh.”
“yes,” geno says, and then sid’s settling next to him, all three of them laying on their stomachs on the living room floor.
“she’s smiling,” sid says quietly, like he can’t quite believe it, and when geno glances at him, he’s grinning, crooked and huge. “geno, she – she's smiling, oh my god, our daughter’s smiling, geno.”
geno doesn’t reply, but reaches out to pull sid closer, so that they’re shoulder to shoulder, all pressed up together. anna’s moved on to chewing on iceburgh’s head, and geno’s elbows are starting to hurt from the carpet, and he wouldn’t move for the world.