#then the lil show gordons doing is fucking nuts

[this-should-do]

barney canoes every blunt hes given and gordon is extraordinarily bold when hes high

bonus/alt ending

anyways everyone thank these tags on my last weed boys post for this post

[tigerdrop]

in lieu of doing more strenuous hand-based activities heres the Dogboy Gordon In Heat Megamix ive been talking about. i wrote this over the course of a couple months in an effort to feel okay about writing horny shit again and i only just realized there are nearly 6 thousand words here. and they only really fuck for like 10% of that

ta-dah

ive thought a lot about gordon being stuck back at gordonhouse after getting kicked out of barneyhouse. i think its ripe for a lot of pining. (and yes, he is pining over the guy hes actively banging. hes being a big mopey idiot over the fact that he doesnt get to have his fuckbuddy around 24/7.) absence makes the heart grow fonder or whatever and gordons already at a baseline of "wheres benrey. wheres benrey"......and now i am about to turn it up to 11

so lets say......gordons starting to feel weirdly under the weather. sweaty and irritable and tired. hes holing himself up in his room a lot, wrapping himself up in blankets to fight off a chill and a sniffliness that wont go away. and hes gettin awfully moody, too. real fuckin testy. starting shit with freemind for no reason and snapping at og gordon like hes a teenager. and......hes nesting, almost, or at least, gathering up a whole bunch of blankets and pillows and anything that smells vaguely like benrey. (hes not really aware hes doing this last thing.)

basically, long story short, feetman is fucked up. hes pathetic. hes being a huge bitch. at least og gordon feels vaguely sorry for him, and expresses this by way of observing him and trying to treat it. for science. its better than freemind, who just loudly complains about him being a huge bitch and reeking up the place. theres something weird coming from vr gordons corner of the house.....a musky, heady, hormonal kind of thing that makes freemind act simultaneously territorial and irritable and more lascivious than normal. and that also piques og gordons attention, because having both of them be wound up little freaks at the same time is enough to make even the most resilient person pull their hair out

now gordon primes got his suspicions as to whats going on, but hes not gonna tell vr gordon that he suspects hes going into heat. that would compromise the experiment, and all that. so poor gordons just going thru all this shit not knowing what in the fuck is wrong with him and getting more worked up and irritable about it by the day. hes convinced that hes just got the flu, or something......except, uh, haha, jesus christ he is horny all the FUCKING TIME

he doesnt get it! he feels like shit all the time, so why is he constantly fighting off boners and having weird wet dreams and thinking about-- well. his fucking boyfriend, he guesses. (are they boyfriends?? he doesnt know. he gets a weird, sharp pang when he thinks about them not being boyfriends, at this point, but its not like theyve ever talked about it!) gordons half-convinced that hes just losing his mind from being stuck inside all the time and he really just wants to see benrey again. its, like, all he thinks about. (see? hes losing it. theres the proof.)

the sucks thing for everybody else is that gordon is also Extremely Vocal about how shitty he feels and how much he wishes he didnt feel shitty so he could go see benrey and how much he cant stand benrey for not being able to read his mind and come over when he feels bad. eventually freemind gets so sick of his shit that he decides to cut out the middleman and get benrey involved directly. "come take care of your fucking dog before i call the aspca! animal neglect is a crime, asshole!"

(if pressed, freemind would adamantly reject the idea that hes being nice to gordon. but on some level, hes kinda sympathetic. the guys clearly miserable, and he just keeps asking for the same fucking thing. might as well humor him to shut him up.)

vr gordon is completely unaware of these machinations, however. hes just holed up in his room trying to work out what makes him feel better because, uhh, powerade isnt helping

jacking off doesnt do a whole lot for him anymore. like, it feels good, but its not very satisfying. gordon just ends up feeling more restless than anything afterward. and hes always stupid horny. more blankets. a box fan. less blankets. sleeping with one of benreys shirts pressed up to his face. grinding into his pillow when he wakes up hard from yet another weird dream. theyre all a little helpful, and he feels like hes working towards the right thing, somehow, but its never really enough to take the edge off

and then.....he tries......jerking off more. especially when he realizes that its bizarrely soothing to do so while he can smell benrey up close and personal on that stupid shirt of his. better still when he rolls onto his side.....and then his stomach.......rocking his hips into the mattress until he gets the idea to lift his hips a little. and......oh. cool. something kind of......clicks. in his head. as he raises his hips higher while he keeps his arms wrapped around a pillow and benreys shirt jammed against his nose. hes got that lil moment of realization that this is good, actually. this feels like a good move. and its making some of that discomfort melt away

and gordon thinks about.....how it felt. earlier. when they were with barmey. and benrey had him just like this, ass up, face down, and was spreading him apart and licking him open and making him submit and he groans so fucking hard that embarassment just rips through him like lightning. but his tail starting to wag a little faster.....electricity shooting through his belly......and he cant help but wonder. what if benrey had kept going? pulled back and-- maybe, replaced his tongue with his fingers, one at a time, curling them inside him and telling him how well hes behaving and-- and his dick throbs, hard, and gordon realizes he wants fingers inside of himself right fucking now, thank you, hes not fully certain how to accomplish it be he is going to fucking try

(sigh) so my guy figures out about the old fingers in the ass trick. and i need you to understand that i am fully convinced that this is one of those guys who has an uproarious reaction to getting fingers in his ass. mr repressed and uptight over here doesnt really get what the big deal is until he gets braver and pushes a little deeper and hes rock hard in an instant, goodbye, just like everybodys favorite creative writing exercise

and this is what he decides to do for a solid day or two without leaving his room, because, honestly, this is awesome. and the longer he spends jerking off the less time he spends stressing about the fact that his imaginations getting really vivid, here. sure, like, hes no stranger to weird dreams even before this, but this is the first time hes really letting his mind run wild and this dude is nonstop thinking about being bred and gordon still has no fucking idea that hes in heat. doesnt even occur to him

unfortunately this also does not solve his problems but at least it feels baller and it keeps him occupied. also, unfortunately, the increased rate of jerking off is causing a serious uptick in Dog Smells, the effect of which is turning freemind into a nightmare. its just not good vibes in this house. enter: benrey

now i need you to understand that when these two meet up again i want gordon to get Emotional. think about how genuinely excited he gets to see some of his pals in canon. the like......excitement and disbelief when benrey shows up outside his window throwing rocks at it before noclipping in. he forgets to even act pissed off at first. i think it would be super fucking cute for him to drop the game for a moment just out of shock, basically. his tails waggin, his ears are perked up, and hed probably tackle benrey to the ground if he wasnt also a sweaty, trembling mess whos been holed up in his room for days.

and benrey has No Fucking Idea what he has walked in on here. as far as benrey knows, freemind just demanded he get over there and take care of his dog.

(INTERLUDE: here is the part where i gin up a freemind POV of this exact scene. b/c i am out of my fucking mind

so. i had the thought of a freemind POV chapter where hes spying on gordon and benrey.....because. gordons in heat. ive talked about that scenario before too (literally so many FUCKING times okay i just need this dude to have the uncontrollable urge to be bred like a little bitch! and for benrey to take pity on him and make him feel better by nutting in him literally as many times as is physically possible!!!)

but i wanna manifest it in this specific way: from an outside perspective. voyeurism is great and also i have a one track mind and basically the only time i traffic in Other Guys in this fandom anymore is as a participant in gordon and benreys horse shit. Im not apologizing for this

lets say.....vr gordons behavior has been getting worse and worse for "unknown reasons" and freeman prime just sees it as a key observational opportunity for his research. while freeminds getting really irritated at how much its cutting into his normal way of life. for one thing, vr gordons room reeks, and he cant even escape it in his own room! and its turning him into a feisty, aggressive, and loud son of a bitch. but he cant even resolve it in his usual fashion at this point (baiting vr gordon into another competition/fuckfest) b/c gordons being a little sadsack holed up in his room and doesnt wanna play

but also.....he kinda just feels bad for the guy at a certain point. hes clearly really miserable and looks downright ill and all hes asking for is to see his boytoy again. (gordons convinced that hes dying, and feels the need to dramatically speak to benrey one last time before he croaks.) so freemind decides, in all his benevolence, to go over gordon primes head and drag the guy over there anyway. (with machinations, not his literal bare hands. what is he, a caveman?) he reasons that itll be a good opportunity to twist gordons arm into groveling at his feet later

and he spies on the two of them in gordons room.....why? idk. possibly something to do with investigating this relationship between a gordon and a barney that he had yet to fully analyze. tl;dr he gets trapped in their closet for a remix of that one barmey voyeurism chapter b/c why the fuck not

i just.....i dont know.....i think theres something really charming about a 3rd party not being able to fully make out what theyre saying or doing but piecing things together anyway.....like benreys weirdly soft tone of voice when hes talking to a super agitated gordon. as far as any of them know, hes not really like that. he either sounds bored or smug, but either way, its usually straight-up antagonistic

it would make freemind bristle to hear it b/c its almost a mocking tone, but.....it makes gordons shoulders drop and gets him to let go of some of that tension and thats probably fascinating to watch. literally soothing him like a stressed out dog, huh. smoothing back his hair and murmuring things in a low, even tone that freeminds enhanced hearing still isnt good enough to make out. (the guy mumbles, okay? he needs a fucking toastmasters meetup.)

it would equal parts horrify and fascinate freemind, in my onion. watching a version of himself fall that hard into the loyal pet role.....its pathetic! for all that gordon goes on about not being a slave to his instinct or whatever, he sure is doing a bad job of acting like it! its like watching himself, but worse.

and benreys having to soothe him like a startled animal b/c he doesnt even know whats wrong with himself, but theres something thick enough on the air that even benrey can smell it, and hes taking some stabs at the dark. especially with how charged some of the shit gordons saying is......"i cant fucking take it anymore", "you smell so good", "i dont know whats wrong with me, man, my dick hasnt gone down for days and im pretty sure i need a doctor-- no, a real one, not the other gor-- NOT a vet, JESUS"

and the whole time.....freeminds peeking from behind a closet door. watching them devolve from outright hostility into "gordon climbing into benreys lap and shoving one of benreys hands up his shirt and demanding that he fucking touch him already"

normally i dont think freemind would be averse to a little bit of voyeurism, here. if it was anybody else, hed probably at least engage in a little heavy petting. but this is getting weird, man. he cant shake the uncanny feeling that this is something too intimate for him to be watching. for one thing, gordons whimpering like a goddamn dog just from a little necking, and for two, hes never really been the kind of guy to watch people make out for 15 minutes before they get to the good stuff

its just kind of unsettling how much these two clearly really, really like each other at this point. its not like watching gordon prime give vr gordon a handjob as part of a "test". freemind expected more of a hatefuck kind of deal out of these two, what with how often gordons normally going on about how much he hates the guy, what a pain in the ass benrey is, how he just wishes benrey would stop jerking him around.....etc. freemind could shit himself right now. that lying bitch!

i imagine its also kind of painful, on a personal level, for him to watch this borderline-sappy shit. he cant even fathom being on the receiving end of that behavior, let alone from......well. theyve all got their barneys, right? and gordon primes basically doomed himself to incel status b/c he wont nut up and do anything about it. freemind just assumed they were all in the same boat: cursed to casual sex with their roommates/clones, forever, and unable to achieve any kind of intimacy b/c all 3 gordons are fucked up in the exact same way. since theyre all just diff flavors of the same fucking guy, right?

well, theres the evidence that hes wrong. and that vr gordons better than him, somehow. thats gotta suck, bro

anyway then he watches vr gordon get railed in the ass a bunch and jerks off anyway b/c its still hot. see ya)

��take care of your dog”. huh. hes got no clue what that means but, yknow, he does kinda miss his dog. hasnt seen gordon in awhile. and he immediately comments "wow. you look fucked up" in as blunt and unsympathetic a way as possible. but gordons so far gone that he cant even work up a good anger about it. he is pretty fucked up, man. and benrey sits on the bed and slaps his forehead with a palm to take his temperature (and that gets gordon to bitch at him, finally, that thats not how you do it, asshole) and judges that, uh, he is hot. in his expert opinion

and thats when gordon kinda grabs his sleeve and tugs it and starts tryin to say something. hes really bad at it, because he is having to perform the mortifying task of Owning Up To It, but eventually he manages to grind out that he needs benrey to touch him, please. just pet him. something. he feels really bad and he just needs benrey to scratch his fucking ears. this is the most gordon can cop to in one go, and it is such a sad struggle to watch, but benreys caught off guard by it and he feels weirdly bad for gordon upon hearing it so  hes just like "whoa, okay" when gordon tugs his hand to his head

gordon groans the moment his fingernails start scratching behind the ears and digging into his scalp. even just that much feels really fucking good. its comforting, for one thing, and its benrey, for another, and the physical touch feels so fucking good right now that goosebumps are crawling down his neck. gordon cant help but lean against benrey and bury his head in the crook of his shoulder. he wants to hide his face from scrutiny and he wants to get closer but he doesnt know how to say what his fucking problem is

and benreys weirdly quiet. just kinda mumbling and shushing him intermittently, awkward and not sure what to do b/c this is a level of intimacy he was not expecting but gordons sure is responding nicely to a second hand in his hair

so having both of benreys hands scratching at his scalp is really getting to gordon. hes scritchin behind the ears and gordons tails wagging at a mile a minute. the feelings making goosebumps race down his neck and arms. he starts kind of mumbling something into benreys shoulder, how hes been feeling so fucked up lately, and he squirms a little closer. hes not really aiming for anywhere in particular but every neuron thats firing in him right now is telling him to get closer. make contact. he missed the fucking guy, what can he say.

and one of benreys hands......slips down to gordons face. his jaw. a thumb pushing into that soft little divot between his jaw and neck, like hes trying to push up into gordons fucking teeth. its weird and bizarrely intrusive, but benreys hand is broad and warm and gordon leans into it anyway, groaning with relief. its not like its not doing anything for him. kind of the opposite, actually. then he palms at gordons neck, and gordon starts breathing harder. he can feel his heartbeat rabbit-fast, pushing against benreys skin (and theres no way benrey isnt feeling that, too).

benrey eyes are lidded and his breaths starting to get heavier, too. naturally, yknow, since gordons practically draped over him right now, melting all the more the longer benrey keeps petting him. oxytocin is crazy, man, especially when a guys in the full throes of some kind of chemical meltdown of the glands. gordons eyes are screwed shut, tail thumping furiously against the bed, and hes panting at benreys neck like hes a fucking dog.  he just doesnt know how to articulate what the fuck his problem is

benrey smells insanely good to him right now, and gordon just blurts that out. benrey gives him some shit for it, but when gordon only makes a weird noise in response and fists his hands in benreys hoodie, it makes him shut up real quick. hes squeezing out words about feeling like he needs something, but its clearly a fucking effort. its almost pitiful

so. gordons crawled right into benreys lap, too impatient after days and days of feeling like this (you know, being in heat, in so many words). hes been pounding off like crazy, that brand new collar of his strapped to his neck nearly every time b/c hes that desperate to feel… well. *benrey*. he cant fucking jerk off to thoughts of anything else - porn doesnt do it for him, and his fantasies slip right back to the same thing every single time. its frustrating! hes bisexual, for gods sake! its not like hes normally immune to the wiles of the Phat Ass White Girl, but lately he just keeps ending up on his hands and knees and whining benreys name into his pillow and he couldnt focus on a girls rack if he tried

point being. hes being awfully fucking demanding. (and also, hes wearing the collar *right fucking now)*. he shoves benreys hand up his shirt and shivers the moment he makes contact with gordons burning-hot flesh. and hes demanding that benrey touch him already, jesus, hes losing his mind! and benreys just crooning at him, “bossy, huh,” but hes scritching gordons ears and palming at his side and nosing at gordons neck and gordon starts to feel like hes melting into it. his protests at being talked down to are perfunctory at best

benrey licks a stripe up gordons neck and starts muttering his stupid horseshit right in gordons ear and it makes gordon clutch his shoulders so tight, claws digging into the meat of him. benreys kind of into it, though, and it just makes him laugh, low and harsh and right in gordons ear. that just makes gordons problem worse. he lets out quiet, nasal whines on every exhale, like a literal fucking dog.

he starts teasing, like, “haha, you’re *gagging* for it, bro,” but gordon doesnt respond with the defensiveness he expects. instead, its like opening a floodgate - he is, hes fucking *desperate*, okay, his dick hasnt gone down in days and he wants benrey so bad he cant see straight and he cant stop thinking about him and all of this comes tumbling out of him at once. gordons trying to press himself as close to benrey as he can physically get, legs straddling benreys lap and arms clutched tight around his back. and when benrey prods a little more, tells gordon to say what hes been thinkin about, gordon starts to pant, squeezing his eyes shut. but he cant bring himself to do anything more than choke and stutter on the words

hes half-hard in his underwear already (and, lets be be clear, he was only in boxer briefs and a tank top to begin with. hes sweating buckets and its the least amount of clothing he could get away with wearing around the house) and his tails thumping a mile a minute and hes so far gone, just from benrey talking down to him and kissing his neck and scratching his ears. but hes not budging yet, so benrey slides that hand on his ears over to his ponytail and *yanks*. tells him, “speak.” gordons dick twitches rapidly, and he lets out a sharp sound, and he finally says it: he needs benrey to *fuck* him, jesus

benrey lets out a harsh breath at that. “yeah? thats what puppy wants?” and the nickname should blister him, make him feel to embarrassed to continue, but gordons too desperate to care. he just starts spewing a litany of “god yes”s and “please”s. hes getting harder and harder, pressed up against benreys belly, and benrey can *feel* it. “good boy,” he mutters, and those claws dig harder, that panting gets louder and harsher

he slips a hand around to gordons back, rubbing slowly for a moment as if to soothe him, and then slides it under the back of gordons boxers. and lower still. starts rubbing at gordons hole. that gets a quiet “oh god” out of gordon.

gordon cant help himself - he rocks forward against benrey, just a little, rubbing his bulge against what he realizes is benreys *extremely* hard dick in his sweatpants. hes not the only one whos got it bad. but he *is* the only one whispering, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” as benrey pushes a little further, makes as if hes about to breach gordon dry. the poor guys so needy that he probably wouldnt even argue!

but benrey just stares at him, wide eyed and flushed, mouth hanging open a little. gordons so hot for this that it surprises the both of them.

anyway after some boring position finagling benrey coaxes gordon onto his hands and knees, running a broad hand down gordons shaking back. and he pulls back gordons tail, exposing him. its so fucking humiliating - gordons got his face buried in a pillow, and his ass in the air, and hes never felt so *vulnerable* before. he wants to argue, he wants to lift his head and look back to make sure that everythings, like, okay back there - benreys staring at his entire asshole, okay, and he wasnt exactly anticipating benrey making a house call to fuck him in the ass - but every time he lifts his head, or starts to say something neurotic about it, benrey chides him about it. clicks his tongue. tells him, “hey. dogs dont talk” or “i said *bow*, bro”.

for all his insisting that hes a real guy, that hes not just a dog, gordons feeling less and less like a human and more like something in thrall to his instincts. the condescension rankles like it always does, but doing what benrey tells him to feels good. feels natural. presenting himself like this feels like what hes *supposed* to do. it doesnt stop him from running his mouth entirely, but it helps to mitigate some of the embarrassment.

and then… benrey *licks*. gordon tenses and gasps. he doesnt know how benrey can stand it, its gotta be, like, unhygienic! but that didnt scare him off the last time they tried this, and its not like gordon hasnt thought about it since. hes thought about it a lot, actually. but hes been too neurotic to ask for it. benreys not stupid, though. hes a good dog owner (at least, so he thinks) and hes gonna take care of his dog. so he licks again, and again, pressing a little harder against gordons hole on each pass with the broad side of his tongue until he dares to breach it with the tip.

gordons rock hard again in an instant. his dick hangs between his legs and drips onto the sheets. he digs his fingers into the pillow now, tearing holes in its surface with those sharp nails of his, and he makes embarrassingly high noises that he muffles into into the pillow, too. hes tense, hes so fucking tense, he should be clamping down and making benreys task really fucking hard, but theres bright pink sweet voice dripping from his hole and benreys rubbing the side of his thigh in an effort to soothe him and both of these things work in tandem to get him to relax. and benrey works his tongue in further, further than a human ought to.

the tip was one thing, but it gets wider as benrey pushes it in, and its just as good as it was before - better, even, because now its just the two of them, just a master and his dog, and benreys the only one he wants to see him like this. bent over and whimpering. he cant— he cant stomach the thought of anybody else doing this to him. hell, there was a point once where the idea of stomaching *benrey* doing this to him would have made him laugh. but here he is. benreys fucking him open with his tongue and pressing against something thats making him see stars and gordon just wants *more*. he says it so sweet, too, voice growing hoarse and raw as he begs benrey to just fucking do it already, he doesnt wanna come like this!

gordon gets so worked up and emotional about it that benrey takes the time to scratch behind his ears again, shushing him and telling him to chill. benreys got him. hes been a good dog, and good dogs get treats. hearing the words “good dog” makes gordons entire body flush. thats all he wants, really. he wants to be a good dog. he wants to be *told*. he blurts out, “oh my god— say it again,” and benreys like, “huh? say what? youre gonna have to be more specific,” clicking the last syllable. it makes all the hairs on gordons head rise and prickle with shame. the best he can do is mumble it into his pillow.

benrey hears it, though, and tugs at gordons collar from behind, just enough to raise his head. “whassat? you want me to call you a good boy?” gordon cant bring himself to answer that directly, but his stupid body betrays him by making him whine. jesus christ, yes, thats all he WANTS! he needs benrey to be good and nice to him for once in his fucking life and give him what he wants instead of taking, taking, taking! but benrey just tells him that hes gonna have to earn it. gonna have to be *real* good for him. gordon could fucking snarl at that, but benreys pulling back to rub his dick between gordons cheeks and against his hole and that shuts him up pretty fast because hes *so close* to getting what he wants and hes not about to fuck it up now by running his big dumb mouth

and then… he starts to push in. that sweet voice has loosened gordon up enough to take even benrey, who, uh, is definitely the bigger of the two, in that regard. he goes slow, uncharacteristically so, and gordons chest heaves with the force of how hard hes breathing. a quiet string of “oh god”s spills out of him as he tries to crane his neck back to watch. the head breaches him with a strange popping sensation, and benrey groans, loud, as the rest of him slides in with little resistance in comparison. “good,” he pants in turn, “youre takin it so good,” and—

and gordon comes, in weak, aborted spurts. it snuck up on him. he clenches so fucking tightly that it winds benrey a little. he breathes out, “whoa. did you—” but gordon just begs him to shut up, keep going, hes not— hes not done yet, its always like this, its not *enough*. his dick barely even flags afterward, it just hangs there, achingly hard and dripping with cum. benrey cant even find it in himself to make fun of him. he wants it so fucking bad, doesnt he? and he feels so good, so fucking tight and slick around benrey that the only thought running through his head is “gotta take care of my dog gotta fuck my best friend gotta nut in him and make him howl”. so he pushes himself alllll the way in until theyre pressed together, skin to skin.

then he starts to move. slow, careful thrusts, more for benreys benefit than gordons. if hes not careful, hes gonna blow his load, right then and there, and hes trying to make it good for gordon, too, okay? unlike *some* of them, hes not gonna bust in two minutes and then spend the next half hour crying and trauma-dumping to the guy hes still got his dick inside of.

once he thinks hes got a grip, though, benrey starts fucking him in earnest, and that changes gordons vocalizations from weak little whimpers into something louder. less restrained. hes given up any pretense of being quiet so that his other selves dont hear that hes snuck his boytoy into his room. just loud, wordless moans on each thrust, initially muffled into the pillow but soon spilling into the wider room when he turns his head to catch his breath. the only words hes managing are “oh god” and “please” and “benrey, benrey, *benrey*”, and benrey just responds to him like, “yeah? thats good? fuuuck, bro, so good for me,” all short of breath and barely able to speak himself

he wants to see gordons face. he *needs* to see gordons face. needs to see what hes doing to him, needs to see that cute fuckin blush of his. so he tugs on gordons collar again, bringing him to his hands and knees properly instead of that bowing position. and then further still - pulls him back so that benreys on his knees, and gordons on his knees in turn, on his lap, cock still buried inside of him and fucking him in short, hurried thrusts. “paws up,” benrey tells him, and gordon does it. instantly. no resistance. just folds them at his chest like a real dog would.

“whos a good boy?” benrey croons, right in his ear again. gordon gasps, “i-i am!”

“yeah? youre a good boy?” nod, wail. “whose— whose good boy are you?”

and gordon chokes on his response. he cant say it, he *cant*, he doesnt want to be benreys but he does, he *does*. he doesnt want to be benreys because its not fucking fair! he cares so fucking much! so much more than benrey does, it feels like, obsessing over the guy like hes wrapped thorny vines all around gordons heart and he cant so much as shift in his seat without feeling the tug and the ache and thinking of benrey again. and benrey doesnt care, he never fucking cares, except—

except he showed up at gordons house, in his room. without even being asked. like he knew something was wrong. and he— hes always talking to gordon, shooting him stupid texts just to make him laugh. scheduling *date nights* for them. date nights where, yeah, maybe they couldnt see each other in person, and maybe they always end in some kind of depraved sexual act, but its not like gordons not into it. hes frighteningly into it, actually. and hes *so* into hearing benreys voice, low and crooning, right in his ear, and seeing him lean on an elbow and smile at him afterward. its— its practically genuine. and benreys always making excuses to talk with him, do things with him, watch stupid fucking movies that only gordon cares about and stream with him on twitch to help boost his subscriber count and—

and—

oh god. maybe he *does* care. that might be more terrifying than the alternative.

then benrey yanks the collar again. presses the whole of gordons back against his front in one hot, unbroken line. and asks, “i said, whose good boy are you, bro? *speak.*”

“benrey,” he blurts out, a ragged moan, “d-dont make me sa-AY it, oh god—”

“no?” benrey stills suddenly. his hands keep gordon stuck in place, unable to move or bounce or feel benrey shift inside of him. “thats, uh… thats too bad, friend. this trains for good boys only. good dogs go to heaven 2. no bad dogs allowed. gonna have to, uhh, escort you off—”

“im not a bad dog!”

“i dunno, gordo. bein’ kind of, uh… disobedient.”

(sorry. thats all i got . byeeee)

[kidsviral-blog]

Meet Sage The Gemini, The Bay Area Rap Scene's Surprise Breakout Star

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Meet Sage The Gemini, The Bay Area Rap Scene's Surprise Breakout Star

The “Gas Pedal” rapper might be the first genuine pop-crossover star to come from this tight-knit, influential community. But if he looks like he’s not enjoying the ride, it’s because he’s got a chip on his shoulder the size of Northern California.

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Photograph by Aylin Zafar for BuzzFeed

“Good luck, put some talcum powder on your nuts, and drink some water.” Sage the Gemini, a 21-year-old rapper from Fairfield, Calif., laughs as he reads aloud a text message from his friend IamSu, a fellow Bay Area rapper and producer named Sudan Ahmeer Williams. Su is only three years older than Sage, but he’s become an encouraging, older-brother-type figure in the past couple of years, and the two have recorded, performed, and traveled together as a part of HBK Gang (short for Heartbreak Gang), a crew of rappers, producers, and video directors that Su co-founded.

It’s late October 2013 and Sage — born Dominic Wynn Woods — is getting his hair cut in a greenroom backstage at BET before making his TV debut on 106 & Park. Standing at 6 feet 5 inches, Sage easily towers over most people, but his presence and movements feel more like that of an overgrown kid than anything intimidating. Toned and fit, he has the look of a heartthrob, and girls on social media coo over the jade-hued eyes that gave Sage his stage name. He’s joined in the room by his four dancers — Dmac, Chonkie, Liyah, and Wani — and his DJ, Lucci. Most of them are a bit younger than Sage, but they all grew up together in Fairfield and have been friends since high school.

Sage is the only member of the HBK crew with his own backup dancers — dance has always been an important part of growing up in the Bay, a crucial element of the area’s culture and energy, even if the best-known recent signature moves have come out of the L.A. hip-hop scene, where the “jerk” and “Cat Daddy” dance fads bloomed. But Sage’s two breakout hits, “Gas Pedal” and “Red Nose,” and their accompanying dances have resurrected dance in the Bay thanks to people uploading videos of their own routines to YouTube and Vine.

Seated around a TV screen in the BET greenroom, Sage’s crew watches his DJ Lucci check lighting and sound onstage. Lucci dances alone, turning side to side, his arms drumming up and down, like Sage does in the “Gas Pedal” video. Lucci’s hair is long, curly, and half-braided, and he’s unaware that his friends are watching him. “He just came out of the womb dancing!” Sage laughs. “The doctor ain’t even cut the umbilical cord, he’s already got it, swinging!” He jumps up and simulates coming out of the womb while dancing.

With his day-one friends, Sage is at ease — but he regularly alludes to a time when he was less comfortable and less accepted. “They used to call me Lil Bow Wow’s little brother when I was younger,” Sage tells his manager, Stretch, referring to the ‘00s kid rapper now known just as Bow Wow, and one of 106 & Park’s hosts. “Because I was light-skinned and my nose didn’t really fit my face. It was hecka funny because now those same people are gonna be watching and be like, ‘What the fuck?’”

Public appearances with famous people will be the norm for him over the next couple of months. He signed a major-label deal with Republic Records last summer, and since, his schedule has been filled with promo appearances at radio stations, tour dates with HBK, and performances at high schools, all pointing toward the March release of his debut album, Remember Me.

After a quick rehearsal, the group performs two songs during the show’s live taping: “Gas Pedal” — the single that caught Republic’s attention and has gone platinum since the label signed Sage, with almost 45 million views on YouTube. Justin Bieber even hopped on the official remix of the song for the album. His second hit, “Red Nose,” has been certified gold.

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Photograph by Aylin Zafar for BuzzFeed

After the performance, Bow Wow interviews Sage. He’s more self-deprecating than you might expect for a budding star, pointing out that he’s not “really rapping” seriously on “Red Nose.” “That’s just catchy stuff,” he says. He’s reluctant to step into the playboy role expected of good-looking, famous twentysomethings, but he’s also a confident romantic, telling Bow Wow that he’s ready to get married. “I been through a whole lot, and I don’t wanna just be runnin’ around on Twitter like, ‘Hey… come backstage,’ you know? I’ve been a loverboy since the seventh grade,” Sage tells Bow Wow.

Later, the crowd goes wild as Dmac teaches Bow Wow the “Gas Pedal” dance — a variation on the J12, a dance made up by a 19-year-old from Oakland, and which was popularized around the Bay Area by dance videos soundtracked by local rapper Clyde Carson’s song “Slow Down.” “Ahh, that was so cool!” one of the dancers, Wani, says as the crew leaves BET’s studio. As everyone else celebrates, Sage walks ahead, scrolling through Twitter on his phone. He says he wishes a few things were slightly different with his performance, but overall he’s happy.

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Photograph by Aylin Zafar for BuzzFeed

In early January, Sage, IamSu, and the rest of the HBK Gang take photos for a magazine feature story in the Berkeley Hills. That evening, after the HBK guys have gone home, Sage is sitting with his younger cousin Jodie and a handful of childhood friends at a Popeyes in Berkeley, everyone giggling as Sage walks back and forth across the restaurant, filling its small space with his long-limbed dancing. He does voices: impressions of friends, a wheezy Donald Duck. Later, pausing their conversation mid-sentence without skipping a beat, they tell an older woman she’s “very pretty” as she’s leaving. She’s flattered. Sage is charismatic, charming, and sweet, without it ever feeling over-the-top or disingenuous. He’s quick to compliment people, and he looks them straight in the eyes, earnestly, while he does it.

By having his first two singles sell really well, securing a nice major-label deal, and quickly recording an album that hasn’t been shelved, Sage flouts prevailing notions about what a rapper from the Bay Area can do. The region has long operated in its own kind of bubble, at the margins of the national hip-hop conversation. In the 1990s, “when people thought of ‘West Coast music,’ they’d think of L.A.,” says Sage’s manager Stretch. The Bay has produced a handful of nationally recognized acts over time, like the imaginative linguistic stylist E-40 and pimp-rap pioneer Too Short. More recently, labels flocked to the Bay in the mid ‘00s, signing acts like The Team and The Federation, who were associated with what was locally known as the hyphy movement.

None of those acts found enduring nationwide success, but you can still regularly hear hyphy-era tracks from Keak Da Sneak and E-40 on the radio in the Bay, where classics never go out of style and local tastes still rule the airwaves. “The Bay just marches to its own drum,” IamSu tells me on the phone in March. And, if uncredited, the influence of the Bay’s minimal, slapping production can be heard in today’s prevailing West Coast sound, the simple keyboard-plink productions of L.A.’s DJ Mustard. “That hyphy movement woke L.A. up,” E-40 tells me in December. But on the national scale it was always hard to get people to care. “We just get looked over [in the Bay].”

“Bay music has a lot more funk in it,” IamSu says. “It’s a lot looser … The whole movement is more expressive.” But if mid-2000s hyphy could sometimes veer goofy in its funkiness, Sage’s music is slick. He delivers his verses in a deadpan drawl and in a soft-spoken near-whisper. “Gas Pedal” is light and fun, but not at the expense of sounding sexy.

Clyde Carson, a former member of The Team whose 2012 Bay hit “Slow Down” inspired “Gas Pedal,” says that he immediately recognized a star quality in Sage — the kind that gives him a shot to break out of the Bay’s insular community. “I’m always hearing songs that kind of emulated our sound,” Carson tells me. “But it was something ‘bout him that I was like, this kid is … [With] this kid it might not just be the ‘Gas Pedal.’” Carson says Sage has a charisma that’s hard to come by for most artists. “His personality is big. I always tell him, ‘You have to go into acting and all that shit, man.’ I’m like, ‘Don’t waste that personality. Get your ass on TV and get all the money you can get.’”

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Courtesy of Sage the Gemini / Via instagram.com

Born in Hunter’s Point, San Francisco, Sage moved with his family to Fairfield in the North Bay when he was 7. “Everybody moved out because either we would’ve been dopeheads, dead, or in jail,” Sage told radio personality Sway last fall. In the suburbs, he found outlets for his showboat personality. In middle and high school, he recorded songs on his computer with a cheap plug-in microphone, acted in school and traveling stage plays, and made comedy videos that he posted to his own YouTube channel. “I would post a funny video, then another funny video, then a song. Then a funny video, then a song,” Sage says.

In high school, Sage and his little brother mowed lawns and cleaned garages to earn money to buy recording equipment, a detail he brings up on “Put Me On,” a song from Remember Me that’s dedicated to the naysayers in his hometown:

“I’m from Fairfield and n****s still mug me the hardest / Just because I can’t help you n****s be artists? / And got the nerve to tell me, ‘Don’t forget where I started’? / I know where I started / N***a, that’s the problem / Tryna buy equipment where money was the problem / I can outsmart ‘em / Me and my brother Cadence / Both 13, tryna clean n****s’ places / Just to buy a first microphone at Gordon’s.”

Fairfield is actually pretty remote; in the northeast corner of the Bay Area, up past Vallejo, it’s far from the center of the Bay’s rap scene. Sage grew up watching young crews of Bay rappers like The Team, whose 2004 single “It’s Gettin Hot” was a regional smash, and The Pack, the Berkeley crew of skater hippies from which enigmatic rapper Lil B emerged. Tucked away in Fairfield, watching other people rap like it was a team sport, he felt isolated and alone.

“People were just rude,” Sage’s cousin Jodie, who grew up acting in school and regional plays with Sage and learning about poetry from him, tells me in Berkeley in January. “They always had nice clothes and always had cars and money. We didn’t always have all of that. [We] couldn’t fit in with everybody.”

Sage was good-looking enough to model, even appearing in underwear campaigns. (He wouldn’t reveal what brands, but when I throw out Calvin Klein and Hanes, he says I’m “not far off.”) He remembers feeling ugly, and it seems he returns to this well of teenage frustration often, to propel himself. “Girls didn’t like me in school,” he says. “I didn’t have nice clothes.”

On Remember Me’s title track, he directs a taunting refrain at anyone who teased him: “Fuck the cool crowd, bitch, I’m a nerd.” And later: “They used to treat a n***a like a stepchild / I felt like that white dude on 8 Mile.” That Sage compares himself to Eminem doesn’t come off like a throwaway joke. Like Em, he dropped out of high school to focus solely on music, and now sees rap as a means to annihilate his opponents and prove doubters wrong. It seems that Sage wants to release a successful album, at least in part, to seek validation from the popular kids who brushed past him and the girls who dismissed him.

In 2012, after “Gas Pedal” started picking up steam in the Bay Area, Sage posted a video of thanks to his supporters on his YouTube channel. Sitting in the same bedroom where he recorded many of his comedy videos, shirtless, he dispensed some advice to young people looking to try to make it in rap. “For those who know me, you know my real name is Dominic Woods. I went to Clearwood, Dover, Fairfield High, and Rodriguez. If you was there with me, you would know a lot of people wasn’t with me,” he says earnestly into the camera. “If you’re out there and you want to rap and a lot of people isn’t with you, let ‘em go. Because take it from me, I got passed up by all the girls, all the n****s laughed at me when I wanted to get a collab and stuff — but we’re not here to talk about that, it’s all positivity.”

Now many of the naysayers who ignored Sage previously have emerged from the woodwork, as often happens at the dawn of someone’s success, asking for favors. On “Put Me On” from Remember Me, Sage raps about the pressure he feels from people who feel entitled to a piece of his success: “I can’t help you if I’m tryna help myself / Get off my chest, I can’t invest with no wealth / Like I said, most of y’all wasn’t there when I started / Might’ve ‘made it’ on paper / But I’m still ‘new artist.’”

Jodie says Sage wants people to work hard for themselves, not even giving Jodie, who’s pursuing an R&B career, a free handout to jump on his songs without first working for it. “They feel a certain type of way because he’s not saying, ‘Oh, yeah, let me put you on my song and help you get up there,’” Jodie explains. “But he did that to me, and I’m his own family. Because nobody gave him what he had,” Jodie says. (Sage later tells me that he’s kicked Jodie out of his house in an effort to motivate him. “He started getting too comfortable,” he says. “Eventually he can come back, but I want him to realize he needs to work for it.”)

Sage has been working at his music for years, and he fits right into HBK’s energetic group dynamic, but he’s still the new guy, and his popularity is a recent phenomenon. “He came up so fast, it’s crazy,” IamSu tells me later. “He was going through hella shit that took me years to find out, [and he went through it] in 10 months.”

“For [Sage] to be higher up than anyone in the Bay Area in such a short amount of time so quickly, it’s just amazing,” Jodie says, while stealing a French fry from Sage at Popeyes.

“I’m not bigger than Su, though,” Sage interrupts, shaking his head. That’s debatable — Su brought together HBK Gang and has landed several songs on the radio, but, on his own, he’s never released a single as successful as “Gas Pedal.” Still Sage sees him as his idol and biggest influence, even saying later that he still gets nervous around him.

So does Sage just not want to jinx it? He shakes his head again, looking down at the table: “I’m not bigger than Su.”

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Photograph by Aylin Zafar for BuzzFeed

Both Sage and Su have set themselves up to be big because they’re producers as well as rappers, according to Stretch, who’s been deeply entrenched in the Bay rap scene for well over a decade, most notably managing the late Bay legend hyphy icon, Mac Dre, in addition to acts like Mistah F.A.B. and Kreayshawn. “Hip-hop is moved by producers, and if you don’t have an identifying producer or an identifying sound, it’s not gonna work,” he says. “The problem you had before with the Bay Area was there were no set producers. Sage is a producer. Su’s a producer. They want to have more input and they helped shape the sound that we have today. It’s coming from a different place than just rapping on someone else’s beats.”

Sage and Su’s sound cherry-picks from mob music (the throbbing, slower sound that preceded hyphy in the Bay), hyphy’s up-tempo joyousness, and jerk music, the dance-driven L.A. sound that came after hyphy. And as Clyde Carson distinguishes it, Sage and Su’s sound has all the fun of hyphy’s original iteration, but none of its ties to violence. Sage seems to live by that philosophy. He doesn’t drink, smoke, or do drugs, and he semi-jokingly calls himself a “safe thug.” He frequently talks about making music that will keep kids more interested in dancing than in handling guns. He was raised in the church and around women, he says, and it shows. He doesn’t allow girls backstage and has an almost old-fashioned, courtship-centric approach to relationships. In March, he told DJ Vlad that Kaylin Garcia, a model, dancer, and former cast member of Love and Hip-Hop, was his current love interest, but in subsequent radio interviews he’s revealed that they’ve met in person only recently. He tells me that the most special someone in his life is his daughter, Lai’lah, who’s 3.

Sage is betting that his underdog story and his update on the sounds of the Bay can appeal universally. But that mission comes with its own pressure. On the “Gas Pedal” remix featuring Justin Bieber, Sage hints at the weight placed on his shoulders: “It’s going up / No explaining the escalator / I’m tryna keep this alive / the Bay’s respirator.” And though Sage says that Republic hasn’t put any pressure on how his music is supposed to sound, the major label game still has rules: “It’s numbers. At the end of the day they want hits,” IamSu says. And Sage has a unique sense of just what in the Bay sound will resonate on a larger scale, he adds. He knows hits. “The kind of artist Sage is, he’s a superstar.”

Republic’s West Coast A&R Naim McNair, who signed acts like E-40, Clyde Carson, and The Federation to major labels years ago, signed Sage last year while scouting for new talent in the Bay. He says that the new generation may be laying a more lasting foundation than the prior hyphy movement. “I think other things come and go, but the kids from the Bay have definitely built a foundation in California that will last for a long time,” he says. “And there’s a lot of unity now.”

Yet there’s a natural star quality that his previous signees may not quite have had. “We definitely see him as someone who’s gonna push the needle, at this point he can do anything he wants. If he worked at it, he could play for the 49ers.” All that confidence, McNair says, stems from the years of hard work Sage endured in the isolation of his bedroom, and even still today. “He’s probably one of the most disciplined artists I’ve ever worked with.”

For as playful as he is in person, Sage is also his own harshest critic. With Remember Me, he tries to show he’s got the skill to stay in the game for more than two hits. “I’ll actually be rapping on [the album] instead of saying ‘spoon’ and ‘fork’ and ‘red nose.’ That catchy stuff that caught people’s attention; it’s like one of those things you have to do to break the atmosphere and get out into space.” But as much as he believes in his music, he’s still nervous and hesitant to boast or declare his album a success. He’s hesitant to make any assumptions about how his album will be received — or how he even feels about all of it — before there is a way to quantify its success. “I’ll see how the turnout is and then go from there.”

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Photograph by Macey Foronda for BuzzFeed

It’s Tuesday, March 25, the day of Remember Me’s release, and Sage is hanging out in the BuzzFeed’s New York headquarters — geeking out over seeing Law & Order star Christopher Meloni (who’s dropped by the office for an interview) and joking around with the life-size cutouts of celebrities around the office. He’s tired, though. It’s been a long day of promotional appearances and interviews and there’s more to go — a cycle that even seasoned veterans can struggle through, but is a true test for those new to the big-time. “It’s whatever,” he says. “I’ll be happy when I hit number one or I’m winning awards.” For Sage, there needs to be a clear metric to define just what that success looks like — haters can hate, but numbers can’t lie, and he made this album for the critics back home.

After taping a performance for David Letterman with IamSu, Sage zonks out in his hotel room. The last thing he wants to do is go out to a club, but there’s an album release party at trendy Meatpacking District spot 1 Oak that was arranged and put on his schedule. He’s performing two songs and there’s no way out of it.

1 Oak is bustling with groups of drunk out-of-towners, 19-year-old-looking city kids celebrating birthdays, and fashion models clad in skintight dresses and heels. A quick survey of the room reveals that no one is really there for the release party, nor do they know who Sage the Gemini is (at least not by name — they seem to recognize his songs later in the night). Robin Thicke bounds into the club with some young twentysomethings to join one of the groups near the small DJ stage. Sage shows up to the club around 1:50 a.m. with HBK rapper Kool John, their friend Rex, and Stretch. Kool John’s immediately having a good time, enjoying the drinks and orienting himself in the space, checking out a girl on top of a couch dancing against a wall. The crowd is getting down to a mix of twerk-friendly West Coast hyphy and ratchet songs, and the DJ takes the mic to announce that “Sage the Gemini is IN the buildiiiing!”

Sage, however, is sitting slouched over in the corner, his hoodie pulled over his head, absorbed in his phone. He hasn’t gotten much sleep in the past few days and he’s exhausted, and isn’t interested in talking to anyone. The juxtaposition between the debauchery and fun being had by Robin Thicke and whoever was willing to pay hundreds of dollars for a bottle of vodka and the lone Sage, whom the party was in honor of, is a little puzzling to watch.

Most 21-year-old rappers on the day of their debut would be reveling in all of this — if not the excess, then the spotlight. Sage stands behind the DJ booth on a small stage before he’s about to perform, observing the frenzy in front of him. He’s staring into space, cool and unaffected, and delivers his two hit songs with pitch-perfect tone and agility.

At the end of the set, Robin Thicke grabs a mic and starts chanting Sage’s name to the raucous crowd. Sage bursts into a huge smile, looking bewildered as he pulls out his phone to take a video of one of pop’s biggest stars not only acknowledging him, but giving him props. It’s one of those surreal moments that happen at the beginning of an artist’s career. Sage may not care about the perks and glamour, but he sure as hell cares about who’s paying attention.

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Photograph by Aylin Zafar for BuzzFeed

Read more: http://www.buzzfeed.com/azafar/sage-the-gemini-bay-area-interview

[powerranks]

Power Ranks: Week 1

A really shitty week in the NFL coincided with what was one of the least entertaining and low scoring weekends in fantasy, ever. Yes, I know there four of you that scored over 100, but the fact that we had THREE players score in the 50′s and a winner with 64 should tell you everything about this weekend. Other than Chris, who’s team went nuts, nobody that was at Anthony’s this weekend enjoyed watching their own fantasy team. If you think your team is bad, it probably isn’t, and if you think your team is good, it also probably isn’t. It was such a statistical outlier of a week. Only two (TWO, HOLY FUCK think about that for a second) quarterbacks that we actually started this week had more than one passing touchdown. Exactly ONE (!!!) running back in the entire fucking NFL scored more than one rushing touchdown, and it was Gilislee, who Dylan rightfully benched given how little we knew about the Belitricks situation. Only five receivers any of us actually started scored, and only one of them had more than 80 yards on top of the touchdown. Literally all the good tight ends sucked ass. DeMarco Murray played two snaps at Tight End (that’s not bullshit, I sent Dylan and Anthony a tweet about it) and blocked Khalil Mack on both plays. How many more of those until Dyl can start him at TE? I’m ready to move on from this weekend as fast as possible. 

Side note: all the Scott themed teams won this week! All of the corny player related pun team names lost. 

Reminder: the number I give you doesn’t matter as much as the tier I put you in, I don’t see a big difference between teams in a tier other than small details.

The Little To No Chance of Any Good Waivers tier

1. Rick and Jordy (Chris “David drafted my team” Gatzow) (1-0) (LW:1)

So, as I thought, your team is good. You’re not going to get two pick sixes out of your defense every week, but your team should’ve scored more. Cooper dropped multiple touchdowns, and Howard dropped what might’ve been a touchdown. Nobody on your team really disappointed though, and that shows the 90 point floor you’ll have every week. I’d be worried about Cohen stealing all of the points from Howard, but either way your team is fine.

2. Aegon Targaryen M’FVCKA (Alex “typing out your team name is a bitch pls change it” Ahn) (1-0) (LW: 3)

I’m gonna beat the Matt Ryan Regression drum till I die this season. Take away the super fluky 88 yard Hooper touchdown, and he had less than ten fantasy points. Carr, however, looked good. He should’ve had more touchdowns as I said in Chris’s section. Elliott playing all year gives you a big boost, I really almost put you #1 but Jeffery looked bad amidst a good Carson Wentz day, and I’m worried about Jimmy Graham, not because he’s bad but because Seattle’s offense looks bad. You have a bunch of intriguing boom or bust yearlong guys (Decker, Williams, Bennett, Carson) and I think at least one of them turns into a viable flex. 

The “my team is good but also fucking terrible” tier

3. Scott’s Balls (Anthony “lutz wasnt good enough to win you 20 dollars bitch” Mendola) (1-0) (LW: 7)

I’m moving you up a bit just because I think while you had the best case Hunt scenario, you also had the worst case Bell and Gronk situation. Your lack of a receiver still really pisses me off for some reason, way more than I think it should. I’m not a Cam believer this season, but your runningbacks and Gronk might make any other position irrelevant. I feel the same way about your team’s floor as I do about mine and Chris’s teams, but the lack of receiver puts you down here. You even dropped Mahvin JONES.

4. Scott’s Penis (David “three and 0 against alec week one baby) Chinchilla) (1-0) (LW: 4)

I feel really dirty putting myself amongst these teams because I really didn’t play well. Here’s the only reason I think I deserve to be up here: I got tremendously unlucky to not score more, my players have clear defined floors, and I didn’t have Ajayi. Game script took Carlos Hyde out of the game early, and he still got 8 points on like 15 total touches. The Bills somehow didn’t give McCoy the ball one time inside the five yard line, where all three of their scores came. Reed had 8 targets, Allen and Garcon had 10. I just think my floor is high because of opportunities. If I can go 2-3 while Andrew Luck heals up, watch the fuck out because I’d finally have a quarterback.

5. Fournette About It (Jack “lost by how much Derek Fisher had on the clock against the spurs that one time” Cleek) (0-1) (LW:10)

You lost, but your team impressed me a lot! I still need to see a few more weeks of consistency from your rookie runningbacks, but so far so good. Hopkins still worries me, especially now that Watson is the QB. It’s a strange, weird fact, but the success rate of wide receivers with rookie quarterbacks is staggeringly low. Beshoy pointed out to me that the last good one was Steve Smith during Cam’s rookie year. Luckily, you have Diggs to plug in, but he’s another guy I need to see do it over an extended period of time before I believe it after last year’s late season collapse. I probably should’ve ranked you higher this week, but let’s make this week a prove it week for you.

6.  Beshoy and Some Backups (Beshoy “the earth is crumbling beneath your feet” Halim) (0-1) (LW: 2)

The nickname was a bit much, but I don’t feel nearly as good about your team as I did when I originally wrote rankings, since back then we still didn’t know Zeke was gonna play week 1. You had the worst possible scenario happen with your team last week. Rodgers had an awful match up, Abdullah wasn’t thrown to, Pryor was both a victim of his own bitchassness and Cousins playing bad, and the Henngod let you down (Which upset me, I’m his biggest fan). I still think this is one of the better teams, Rodgers - Gordon - Evans will always keep you competitive, but until someone else emerges I’m skeptical. You were really dependent on McFadden, but Adam Thielen might save the season. You always lose week 1 anyways, this meant nothing.

7. Don’t Trust a Youngerhoe (Dylan “younghoe was your fault” Jessop) (0-1) (LW:6)

Obviously it’s one week, and you only scored like three less than I did, but the Cousins regression tour seems to be happening already. He’s the only guy I really don’t believe in on the team, as pretty much everyone had an average game, including your tight end, DeMarco Murray. You were another one of the teams that was unlucky to not score more, and I think you’re gonna be just fine. Is it weird that I love your team’s floor but don’t think it has much upside?

The sleeping giant tier

8. Hammer (Tony “shockingly quiet this weekend” Mendola) (0-1) (LW: 5)

Tony lost twice this weekend, once to Chris and once to Beshoy for the #1 waiver. We should see bounce backs from pretty much your entire team, but there were some things I saw that really concerned me. Brady looked old as hell. Freeman may be a victim of the Falcons offense not being nearly as good as last season. Ted Ginn is your WR2. TY Hilton looks awful without Luck, and Fitzgerald is your only viable flex option right now. Morris is useless because Elliott is back, Murray got dunked on by Dalvin Cook, and Jamaal Charles fumbled. It was the worst case scenario, I know, but for the first time in my life, I’m not 100% sure tony’s fantasy magic touch can fix this.

The  “thank you for being wrong about my ranking :)” tier

9. Mixon It Up (Alec “thank you for being wrong about my ranking :)” Bernstein) (0-1) (LW: 8)

sup lil BITCH (PS: DYLAN IS THE ORACLE)

10. Scott’s Jizz (Scott “cursed” Felgenhauer) (1-0) (LW: 10)

Scott I really don’t know what to tell you my guy. Every single fucking year, this shit happens to you. The worst part about it is that you somehow won, which means no good waiver, and aside from David Johnson I really didn’t like your team to begin with. You now NEED Dak to Dez to be the best fantasy pairing this year, Thomas to replicate last year, and Kelce to be the number one tight end again, and then have ZERO points from running backs. I’m not sure what you do here, you may need to make a trade. 

PICKS

*your power rank doesn’t determine who I choose to win, matchups do

Fournette About it (Jack)(0-1) over Scott’s Penis (David) (1-0)

Scott’s Balls (Anthony) (1-0) over Hammer (Tony) (0-1)

Aegon Targaryen M’FVCKA (Alex) (1-0) over don’t trust a younghoe (Dylan) (0-1)

 - Both of your matchups are wild, but Alex’s are wilder

Rick and Jordy (Chris) (1-0) over Beshoy and some backups and Tarik Cohen (0-1)

Mixon It Up (Alec) (0-1) over Scott’s Jizz (1-0)

LAST WEEK: 2-3

GOOD LUCK BOYS