NFL SUNDAY CHAOS: Week 10 2024

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Gutter Cat

Күн бұрын

Пікірлер: 24

@ShayyTV 14 күн бұрын

this is definitely all of the NFL games occurring on sunday, i agree

@Starliite69 12 күн бұрын

you come up in the most random places its crazy

@GutterCatNFL 12 күн бұрын

shay is in some of these videos

@Starliite69 12 күн бұрын

@@GutterCatNFL ive never seen your videos before which is part of why this is so funny that hes just here on a 200 view vid

@aaronhealy4350 6 күн бұрын

I love this stuff

@haziedabnuuy 7 күн бұрын

saquon

@GutterCatNFL 15 күн бұрын

I may have gone too far in a few places

@_PROXIMITY_MINE_ 10 күн бұрын

DROP THE JETS YAOI AND MY LIFE US YOURS!!! I WILL DO TRICKS ON IT!!!

@GutterCatNFL 9 күн бұрын

I only wrote a few paragraphs of what I thought I'd read out before extending it with ChatGPT for the bit This is all I wrote: Davante Adams suits up for another Raiders game. He wonders who will be his partner today? AOC, no Minshew, no AOC, no Minshew! It doesn't matter, the result is always the same. He yearns for better days, a time when life was simpler, he yearns for his true partner Aaron Rodgers. Rodgers was promised he would fly high with the Jets, yet they can't get off the ground. He wishes he was back in Green Bay, where he could throw to "one of the good ones". "AARON!" Rodgers hears in the distance, when he turns he can't help but sprint to the warm embrace of his lover. Davante and Aaron lean closer as their lips meet and for a brief moment, the weight of the world seems to disappear. The stadium around them fades to a soft murmur, as if the universe itself is holding its breath. Davante feels the familiar surge of adrenaline-an old, comforting feeling, one that only Aaron could bring out of him. The cheers of the fans become background noise as he lets himself be consumed by the connection, the bond they had once shared on the field, now manifesting in this fleeting, forbidden moment. But reality soon crashes back in. The brief kiss, a spark of nostalgia, a glimmer of something long lost, is over before either of them can fully savor it. They pull away, a knowing look passing between them-an understanding that no matter how much they yearn for the past, they are living in the present, and the present is... complicated. Past this I extended it with ChatGPT for the bit, I have not read it I have no idea what it says: Aaron, his eyes gleaming with that characteristic fire, grins. "You miss me that much?" Davante smirks back, brushing his hands through his hair, already regaining his composure. "Something like that," he mutters, glancing down at his uniform. The silver and black of the Raiders feels heavy today-he's out of sync. Minshew, AOC, it doesn't matter. His mind is still in Green Bay, still in that perfect rhythm, still with Aaron. Aaron shakes his head, a playful chuckle escaping him. "Man, you're always gonna be Green Bay to me. You know that, right?" Davante's heart sinks a little, but he forces a smile. "Yeah. But Green Bay's not the same without you either." The two of them linger in silence for a moment, the unspoken weight of their past season together hanging in the air. Despite everything-despite the trades, the new teams, the fractured paths-they both know it would never quite feel the same without each other. Finally, Aaron turns toward the sideline. "You know, you've still got it, right? That fire. That edge." Davante hesitates. "Does it matter when the QB can't get the ball to me?" Aaron looks back, his smile faltering, but his gaze sharp. "It matters when you keep working. It always matters." Before Davante can respond, he feels the tug of the present again-he's in a Raiders jersey now, not a Packers one. The game is starting. The clock is ticking. A distant voice from across the field calls out, breaking the moment. "Adams! Get your head in the game!" Davante exhales sharply. "Yeah, yeah... I'm coming," he mutters, walking away, the weight of his longing for Aaron, for simpler times, hanging heavy on his shoulders. But as he jogs back to the line of scrimmage, he can’t help but glance up at the scoreboard one last time. On it, an image of him and Aaron, in their glory days, flashes in his mind. He can't go back. But damn if he doesn't wish he could. As the game begins, Davante’s mind doesn’t fully leave the memories of Aaron. His feet move on autopilot as the quarterback-whoever it is today-calls for the snap. He lines up wide, scanning the defense, feeling the familiar tingle of anticipation that comes before every play. He’s done this a thousand times, and yet today, it feels different. His body moves in the motions, but his mind drifts back to those cold nights in Lambeau, to the rhythm of Aaron’s throws, to the way they could almost read each other's minds on the field. The ball is snapped. His route is crisp, sharp-perfect. But when the ball leaves the quarterback's hand, it’s not perfect. It wobbles. The throw is off. Davante doesn't even need to look at the stands to know what the crowd’s reaction is. He can feel it in his bones-the collective disappointment, the subtle undercurrent of frustration that comes when a star receiver can't connect with his quarterback. The pass bounces just beyond his outstretched fingertips. "Come on, man!" Davante mutters under his breath, frustration bubbling up inside him. He jogs back to the huddle, ignoring the feeling of all eyes on him, the whispers that are sure to follow. He wants to shake it off, to just focus on the next play, but it’s hard when every drop feels like a weight around his neck. He lines up again. His mind is still replaying the past-Aaron’s throws, his leadership, the way everything felt natural. He tries to focus on the here and now. Focus, he tells himself. You’re a professional. You're here for a reason. The ball snaps again, and this time, Davante breaks free with a crisp cut to the inside. The quarterback, AOC today, seems to be more in sync, more present. The throw comes in, smooth and on target. Davante adjusts, leaping into the air, his hands meeting the ball at its highest point. He pulls it in with ease, securing the catch as his feet land firmly on the turf. The crowd erupts into cheers. He can’t help the grin that creeps across his face. It’s a small victory, but it’s enough to silence the noise in his head. He’s still got it. He’s still capable of moments like this. Maybe I’m not lost, he thinks. But as he jogs back to the huddle, the moment fades. The play is over. The ball is handed off. The drive continues. And yet, somewhere deep inside, Davante knows the connection he once had with Aaron-the trust, the timing, the ability to read each other without speaking-will never be replicated. Not here. Not with this team. Not with these quarterbacks. Meanwhile, in New York, Aaron Rodgers is watching the game from the Jets' locker room. The aftermath of another dismal season, another lost opportunity to get off the ground, lingers over him. His achilles injury is still healing, and though he’s determined to return next season, the weight of watching his team struggle without him gnaws at him. He looks down at his phone, where the latest highlight from Davante’s game flashes across the screen. Davante’s catch, smooth and flawless, a reminder of what they once had. A fleeting smile crosses Aaron's face, but it fades quickly, replaced by a sigh. What happened to the dream? He watches the rest of the game, but it’s hard to focus. His thoughts drift, as they often do, to what could have been. The Jets were supposed to be the next chapter-the team that could bring him back to the promised land. But it’s not the same without Davante. It never was. Aaron’s phone buzzes with a new text. He picks it up, already knowing who it’s from. Davante: "You still watching?" Aaron stares at the message for a long moment. He’s tempted to type something back, to reach out, to remind Davante that despite the distance, despite the trade, despite everything-they’re still brothers. But instead, he just types back a simple, honest response: Aaron: "Always." He presses send, then puts the phone down, staring off into space. He could reach out. He could push for a reunion. But does he really want to go back to that life? To those days? Or is it simply the ache of something lost that lingers inside him? A knock on the door breaks his thoughts. It’s a staff member, offering him the chance to join a team meeting. But Aaron shakes his head, pushing himself up from the couch. "Nah. I’m good," he says softly, his voice thick with the weight of a season lost. He looks at the TV screen one last time, watching Davante jog back to the huddle, looking determined-alive, despite it all. Maybe, just maybe, there’s still time for both of them. Time to find their way back to what they once had. But for now, Aaron just leans back in his chair, closing his eyes. Maybe next year.