sid pants

Words- Sidney Crosby

Originally posted by wonthetrade

Ok so I hope you guys like this one! Apparently a lot of people like dirty Sid XD So I went with that! So if you aren’t reading this one up next is: Tyler Seguin! If you are then enjoy!

Warning: Smut, sex, smexy time, cursing

Anon Request: I know you have a lot on your plate for writing so please take your time. But can I request Sidney Crosby post Stanley Cup smut ? Keep up the writing 😘


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anonymous asked:

Is there a real life source for the whole "Sid has all his pants custom made" thing that is in all of the fic or is that just a generally agreed upon assumption because of his butt's size? This feels like a weird question to ask but it's been bugging me for weeks.

That’s actually real!

Here’s a reference to it:

…one of Sidney Crosby’s nicknames in the Pittsburgh Penguins locker room is “Creature”, which Duthie writes is a nod to Crosby’s “freakish lower body.”

“It is huge,” Duthie writes. “Gigantic. Hugantic. His caboose would make J-Lo jealous. His thighs are bigger than my torso. All his pants have to be custom made. | Article

There’s also this video from when he was 18 where he talks about how he has a place back in Cole Harbour where he goes if he wants a nice pair of jeans.

fuubah  asked:

Does Sid just think its ok to go pants-less because he aint got no junk, ITS NOT OK SID. PUT SOME PANTS ON. PUT SOME SKINNIES ON, PUT SOME SHORTS ON, I DONT CARE, LEAVE SOMETHING TO THE IMAGINATION COME ON. Also what is Sid's favourite piece of clothing, since its clearly not pants!

Jamie: Wow how about you fuck off, and let Sid wear (or yanno not wear) whatever the hell he wants?

anonymous asked:

I want more cold Sid buried in Geno's coat but I'm also a huge fan of Geno being a giant baby about the cold and refusing to get out of bed until Sid finds the pants he unceremoniously flung at the wall the night before (and maybe also casts a warming spell on his socks because he trusts Sid not to accidentally set him on fire)

“Geno, help me find my clothes,” Sidney’s voice says, sounding like honey. Geno wonders if that’s where all the Veela-ness went to. That, and possibly his spectacular ass. “I can’t leave the castle naked–”

Geno rises finally, groaning as he did so. “I think I like you naked–wait.” He rubs his eyes. Sidney is fully clothed. “You lie to me. Sidney, why?” 

“Of course I did,” Sidney says, tossing Geno’s pants at his head. “I have Potions at 9:30. And you have Charms at that time as well. You have ten minutes.”

Embrace the Cuff

I’ll admit it—up until I moved to New England for University, I had never really worn cuffs on my trousers. Even the lone pair of forward pleated trousers in my closet had plain bottoms (to facilitate easy alterations and accommodate my changing height during my teenage years).  I had always liked the idea of cuffs but was never brave enough to sport them on my flat front trousers. Yet, seeing photographs of Ivy League college students in the 1950s and ‘60s sporting cuffs on their slim, flat-front khakis and grey flannels was a reassuring sight.  I recall GQ “endorsing” cuffs on trousers back when I was in middle school, and from then on, every editorial featured a model in tight-fitting, low-rise pants finished with a deep cuff that ended above the ankle. Additionally, during my visit, I noticed that the guys at Sid Mashburn are large proponents of cuffing their plain front trousers, with nearly every employee who wasn’t wearing jeans sporting the look. Although traditionally a sartorial “no-no”, anchoring down non-pleated trousers with a substantial cuff gives the pant a clean line in addition to attracting attention to the wearer’s footwear.

I can recall one instance that further solidified my appreciation of a good trouser cuff. When I walked into J. Press on Madison Avenue (when it still existed, RIP) around the age of seventeen and saw the tortoise-bespectacled salesman clad in a tweed jacket and cuffed, high-rise khakis, I knew that was the look I wanted. It was traditional, yet stylish. Moreover, I always stress timelessness in one’s manner of dress, so the key is to wear your cuffed trousers like you would any other plain bottom pair. As far as cuff size goes, I’m a firm believer in the “go big or go home” school of thought. Cuffs should be at the very least 1 3/8” inches deep. Why even bother with any less? In my opinion, the sweet spot is right at 1.5” or 1 ¾”. Some guys go for more at 2”, but it’s simply a matter of personal preference. Disregard what people say about shorter guys needing smaller cuffs and vice versa with tall gents.

 For a bit of historical background: the trouser cuff, or turn-up as the Brits say, has its origins at the tail end of the 19th century, with Edward VII of England boldly having his tailor create a sartorial invention to prevent the bottoms of his trousers from getting muddied in foul weather. English gentlemen concerned with soiling the floors of their grandiose country estates after trudging through mire along with city-dwellers alike rapidly adopted the style. By the early 20th century, almost no trouser bottom went by un-cuffed. At traditional institutions like Brooks Brothers, J. Press, The Andover Shop, and Paul Stuart, the cuffed, no-break flat front trouser has been a standard since the 1950s—the latter two, however, being more progressive and English-inspired, tended to embrace the British trait of the forward pleat with their cuffed trousers. For most of the 20th century, Brooks Brothers’ best-seller, the rather shapeless No. 1 sack suit, was standardly equipped with flat front trousers and a generous cuff.

 Whereas in previous decades, flat front, cuffed trousers transcended geographic location, these days there seems to be a regional divide. In my time spent between New England and the region south of the Mason-Dixon line, I’ve noticed that the South restricts cuffs on trousers solely to those with pleats. Upon my arrival back down South from my first semester of college, I chatted with my sartorially adroit former guidance counselor. A UVA man and a Brooks Brothers devotee from birth, he had finally retired the habit of wearing reverse-pleated trousers (rather thankfully). When I suggested that he try putting cuffs on his flat front trousers, he replied, “I’ve already stopped wearing pleats, and I draw the line at restricting cuffs to pleated trousers.” Much to my chagrin, I observed that this was the opinion of most men in the South. However, in the Northeast (specifically New England) cuffs are embraced on trousers of all varieties. Furthermore, it should be noted that pants with a higher rise (i.e. sitting at the natural waist) look best with cuffs. They provide that leg-lengthening look that flatters the more vertically challenged or average height folks like yours truly.

 When contemplating fabric choices, a cuff weighs thicker cloths like tweed, corduroy, or flannel down beautifully, but they’re just as at home on seersucker, khaki, tropical wool, linen, madras, and a wide variety of others.

 Do yourself a favor and get your tailor to put some cuffs on your pants with no trouser break. Whatever you do, don’t roll them up.

(images via leffot, Sid Mashburn, Social Primer, and oxfordclothbuttondown)

steorran  asked:

Magic Mike!! I don't care what ship but I require glitter trash makeouts in my life

As a general rule, Sid hates clubs. They’re loud, and all the surfaces are sticky, and all the women are scary. And grabby.

Colby won’t take no for an answer though, says, ‘But it’s my birthday,’ in a borderline whiny tone.

Sid rolls his eyes, pulls a shirt over his head and says, ‘Okay, fine,’ if only to stop Colby from bugging him. He’d figured it would be a standard team night out, he’d have a couple of beers and bow out early to chirps from the French-Canadian club lurking in the corner with shots and smirks.

Apparently, this is not a standard team night out, unless things have changed drastically since the last time he allowed himself to be dragged to downtown Pittsburgh.

There’s a low, circular stage in the middle of the club, and Sid eyes it suspiciously as they all crowd into a couple of booths, and Biz clatters off in the direction of the bar.

Sid unwinds a little halfway through his first beer, has a proper look around the club. The music is familiar, at least, the same banging stuff that seems to play at every club, and that makes it’s way into the Pens locker room with alarming regularity. Until… suddenly, it’s not. The music changes mid song into something a lot more… innappropriate. Cheers start up from a group of women, and… is that a smoke machine?

Sid turns round to squint at Colby. ‘What kind of club is this?’ he asks.

Flower cackles, loud and obnoxious, but fails to enlighten Sid in any way, shape or form. Sid has a sinking feeling in his gut that he knows exactly what kind of club this is.

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anonymous asked:

i don't understand how sid's pants are capable of falling down? I'm 100 and twelve percent sure that ass could hold up the world's biggest pants

some mysteries are unsolvable