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Roughing
Last Updated:
2023-08-05 01:57:21
Latest chapter
Blindside Beauty The OK Corral Showdown
Billings, Montana, was a city transformed. The streets were alive with banners, news crews, and fans in every color—black, red, and purple for the Cannibals; baby blue, red, and Confederate grey for the Mississippi Militia. The WWIF Championship had come to the high plains for the league’s first-ever neutral-site final, and the whole country seemed to be watching.The Cannibals’ bus rolled up to the Wolves’ arena under a sky streaked with gold and violet. Alexandra Jordan pressed her forehead to the glass, heart pounding. The moment felt bigger than football. It was legacy, family, and the weight of three seasons’ worth of dreams.Arrival and AtmosphereInside, the arena was a living storm. The stands were a patchwork of colors, the air thick with anticipation. Cannibals fans had traveled from Denver, Militia fans from the Deep South, and the locals—most in Wolves gear—were just thrilled to be hosting history.Alexandra stepped onto the field, her cleats crunching on the painted turf.
Blindside Beauty Statement Game
The Denver Coliseum was a cauldron of noise and color, black, red, and purple banners rippling above a crowd hungry for history. The Cannibals had been here before—on the edge of greatness, the city’s hopes on their shoulders. But tonight, the stakes felt different. The Texas Thunder, self-anointed “Cannibal Killers,” were in town, swaggering and vengeful after nearly toppling Denver in the regular season. The media called it a grudge match. The fans called it destiny.Alexandra Jordan stood at midfield during warmups, helmet in hand, eyes narrowed at the Thunder’s sideline. She could feel the tension in the air, the ghosts of that narrow escape months ago. The Thunder had come to end the Cannibals’ reign, and they wanted everyone to know it.But Alexandra had other plans.The Rematch HypeThe week had been a blur of headlines and trash talk. The Thunder’s coach declared on national TV, “We’re not just here to win. We’re here to end the Cannibals’ dynasty.” Thunder players posted vide
Blindside Beauty Playoff Pressure
The Denver Coliseum pulsed with anticipation, its black, red, and purple banners rippling above a sea of fans hungry for history. The Cannibals had returned home after their heartbreak in Mississippi, their regular season finale ending in a bittersweet tangle of pride and pain. Now, everything narrowed to a single focus: the playoffs. Survive and advance. Make history, or become it.Alexandra Jordan felt the weight of it all as she walked into the locker room for the first practice of playoff week. The air was thick with tension and hope. She’d spent the flight back from Mississippi replaying every snap, every missed tackle, every moment she’d locked eyes with her father, her brothers, her stepbrothers across the field. She’d felt the ache of loss, but also the pride of seeing her home state rise. Now, the only thing that mattered was the Vipers.Preparation and TensionJenifer Walter ran practice like a general preparing for battle. Every drill was crisp, every mistake corrected on t
Blindside Beauty Homecoming Heartbreak
The Mississippi sky was a deep, endless blue as the Cannibals’ charter bus wound through the pine forests outside Jackson. Alexandra Jordan pressed her forehead to the window, watching the familiar landscape blur past. She hadn’t been back to her home state in months, and now she was returning not for a reunion, but for a reckoning.This regular season finale was different from any other. The Mississippi Militia—her father Thomas’s dream, her brother Rodney’s pride, and her stepbrother Sam’s project—had become a reality, thanks in no small part to Jeremy’s vision and support. The Militia, an all-men’s squad clad in baby blue, red, and Confederate uniform grey, were fighting for their first playoff berth. For Alexandra, it was a homecoming layered with pride, pain, and the bittersweet weight of family history.Wilfred, her stepbrother, watched every game from his wheelchair on the sideline, paralyzed since that fateful Saturday in college. Alexandra’s redshirt freshman year at Ole Miss
Blindside Beauty A Place to Call Home
The Denver sky was a soft watercolor of gold and blue as Alexandra Jordan finished her morning run, her breath clouding in the crisp air. The regular season was winding down, and the city buzzed with playoff anticipation. But for Alexandra, a different kind of restlessness had settled in—a longing for something more stable, more lasting, than the endless cycle of games, practices, and interviews.Her apartment felt smaller these days, cluttered with gear bags and unopened mail, the walls closing in after each exhausting day. She’d always loved its independence, the way it felt like her own little fortress. But lately, it felt more like a stopgap than a sanctuary.After a quick shower, Alexandra headed to the Coliseum for the Cannibals’ light workout. The locker room was filled with the usual banter—Heather teasing Mia about her playlist, Trisha drawing up plays on a whiteboard, Jenifer Walter checking in with each player.Alexandra joined in, but her mind wandered. She thought of Jere
Blindside Beauty Hearts in the Home Stretch
The Denver Coliseum glowed under the autumn twilight, its field marked by the scars of a season’s battles. The Cannibals’ practice had run long, and now the stadium was nearly empty, save for the echo of a whistle and the distant hum of the maintenance crew. Alexandra Jordan lingered at midfield, helmet dangling from her fingers, sweat cooling on her brow. Her body ached in that familiar, satisfying way—proof she’d given everything, even as the team’s playoff fate hung in the balance.The tail end of the regular season was always a crucible. Every play mattered, every mistake magnified. Alexandra felt the pressure in her bones, but she wore it like armor. She was the Cannibals’ anchor, the one her teammates looked to when games grew tight and the air thickened with nerves. Yet tonight, as the sky deepened to indigo and the city’s lights flickered on, she felt a different kind of fatigue—a yearning for something softer, something just for herself.She didn’t notice Jeremy at first. He
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