this marks the...fifth attempt at acceding to puckling's kind request to tell her more about Sidney Crosby: Master BAKER (I double-checked, it was very clearly Sidney mastering the culinary arts, and nothing else). -missmollyetc

“Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”

A story about not!Russians, the Atlantis Hockey League, accidental offworld marriages (of course) and the intergalactic sex appeal of the mullet.

The third time, Sidney is taking out the trash, and the boy is having a staring match with a raccoon.

Wherein Sidney Crosby gets laid, and Russian diplomacy saves the day.

Last week Sidney had said, "We're totally fucked," and started hyperventilating; Geno had made calming noises for the next hour. Then Sidney'd gone out and had to deliver semi-positive soundbites, since apparently he is now the face of the "we can still have a season, please don't give up on us, we are trying so fucking hard" contingent.

“Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”

Sid and Geno are superheroes. Sid has an easier time of it than Geno does.

Sid refuses to be jealous of something that's two and a half feet high and can't play hockey. OR: The Pittsburgh Zoo named some penguins after the Penguins, and no one will let Sid forget the one named after him has its shit together, because all his friends are assholes. Also there's pining.

“They asked me, today, in an interview with Sid right next to me, about that thing I said last year. About leaving the Penguins, being a big star somewhere else.” “And you’re, what? Afraid he’s going to be angry with you?” Zhenya squirms. He feels hot and prickly, his emotions a soupy mess he can’t grasp in order to make sense of. “I think… I think I’m afraid he won’t be.”

He was dying to know, obviously he was dying to know; obviously he knew something had happened, with the way Geno and Sid kept looking at each other, and holding hands like that, which Sidney had never seen them do. And kissing on the couch, and Sid looking like he was up in the clouds, just totally gone, like his feet were floating at least a kilometer above the earth.

It’s safe to say that fatherhood seems to suit Evgeni Malkin.

The entire building is decked out for Christmas. Sparkling lights, the rich, glowing reds and greens of masses and masses of poinsettia flowers. It’s not hard to realize what’s going on. It feels like every titled, unmarried man between the ages of 20 and 40 who likes other men is here. Unbelievable. They’re marrying the King off with a fucking Cinderella-style ball.

Magnitogorsk is a city of iron, and so is Metallurg’s will. They will not be thwarted, they do not let go of what is theirs. So when one of their own, born, bred, and molded, tries to run? To spit in the face of all that they’ve given him? Metallurg does not give up what it owns.

Over the years, Mario has become accustomed to Sidney's many idiosyncrasies, but he has to admit the spontaneous de-aging is a bit unexpected.

Sid already has a stand mixer, a $400 blender, and one of the nice waffle makers you can flip with the handle, the kind they have at waffle bars in hotels. Geno has two magnetic racks of chef knives. Do they really need a wedding registry? Do they really need a registry at Williams-Sonoma?

There are six new bug reports in Jira since Sid checked last night at 10PM. An open-plan workroom over, Richie is giving the coworking space tour to the new guy. "There's Flower from NetProfit… and there's Sidney Crosby," Richie says. "He's with Penng now, but he was at Facebook early." "Facebook, wow," says the new guy. Sid resists the urge to climb under his own desk.

Evgeni Malkin is a star forward and three-time Art Ross Trophy winner. Sidney Crosby is the head chef of Nouma, a Halifax restaurant that boasts two Michelin stars. They cross paths in Pittsburgh.

Geno loves kids, but not the way Sid loves kids. Sid has a younger sister; Geno lived with Seryozha and Ksenia and Natalie for two years. Which is to say, he survived potty training and checkers and temper tantrums, as well as several toddler ballet recitals. Every time they work with the Little Penguins, it's like Sid is fresh off a thorough Obliviation. Geno, meanwhile, is prepared for war.

There was a newly-uploaded picture, one that hadn’t been there yesterday. Sid tapped it open. The only lights he’d bothered turning on were the down-lights above the kitchen island. He moved closer until he was standing directly beneath them, the better to see this latest picture. It was of a newborn. Or at least, a newborn’s hand, tiny and curling around Geno’s index finger, the Love for Lokomotiv wristband he never took off distinctive and visible at the edge of the frame. There was no caption.

"Sidney. Sidney." Geno seemed to be committing the name to memory on his tongue. "Beautiful name for beautiful man." "Oh my God this is gold," Duper whispered into the phone's speaker. (Or: How to navigate the aftermath of your teammate recording and distributing footage of you hitting on your captain.)

The first time Geno sees Sidney Crosby he’s crying into Tanger’s shoulder as Sid learns how to walk again on the big screen.

There's a tumblr post that's literally all about 'things your OTP could do that make people think they're married if they aren't' and instead of writing one, I wrote them all. OR, Dad and Papa are a perfect, healthy, happy couple. But, they're not a couple at all.