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hammerbones · 8 months
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maddiesflame · 2 years
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The Trouble With Love headers
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deandoesthingstome · 1 year
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Night Moves
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Chapter 1
Pairing: Walter Marshall x OFC (Alexandra Pierce)
Series Summary: When Walter Marshall is called to investigate a homicide by the railroad tracks, he quickly uncovers an unsettling pattern. Alexandra Pierce just wants someone to find out what happened to her friend. She has some secrets, too. And Walter’s going to uncover them.
Word Count: 1422
Series Warnings: In general, this series will depict assault, murder, stripping, hooking, rough sex, make up sex, fingering, oral (m and F receiving), p in v sex in various positions, self-loathing, failed relationships, smoking, drug use, drug addiction, general violence, and maybe some comfort. +18, Minors DNI
Chapter Warnings: Smoking, mention of stripping, mention of hooking, a dead body, grumpy Walter
Disclaimers: I do not own Walter Marshall, Night Hunter (Nomis), or any other characters from that movie, but I do own this OFC (Alexandra Pierce) and these words. Do not repost as your own. Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are more than welcome. It’s how I get my nourishment.
Header made by me, with pics found from Pexel.com and the internet. Dividers are not mine, but check out the masterlist for credit.
Playlist: I’ll be adding to this Night Moves playlist with each chapter. Songs 1- 3. I really hope you check it out, at least "Low" - Chet Faker. Whatever you think Walter's taste in music might be, these words hit home about him for me. Direct Spotify link here.
Masterlist
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Don't look at me
I'm the bus stop boxer
Going down by the railroad tracks, where
People know that they better not relax
I'm the man, baby, I am the man
This is where I can make you understand
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“Trixie, wait up!” Sasha called from the club entrance. She was just tucking her stilettos into her shoulder bag and trying to cross the parking lot as quickly and gracefully as she could in her regulation heels, thankful for the unseasonably warm spring evening. 
That was just one of the amazingly ridiculous club rules designed to toss women off balance, literally and figuratively. Augie’s Cabaret couldn’t actually tell a dancer what to do outside of work, no matter how much they tried to entice women into extracurricular jobs. But the parking lot was leased to them just like the building. So performers showed up and left in the “outside uniform.” Tight fitting, preferably low cut crop tops and hip hugger minis with as much skin showing in between, above, and below as possible. And though dancing took place in much higher heels on the stage inside, two inches was the minimum height for the lot.
Sasha caught up just at the sidewalk where Trixie had stopped to light a cigarette. She offered the pack and Sasha snagged one gratefully. Everyone’s nerves were stretched tight and if a few smokes could shave off some of the edge, Sasha wasn’t going to feel bad about it.
Trixie smirked and waited while Sasha pulled her flats from her bag, replacing each heel one at a time before nodding they could head off.
“Did you hear about Angel?” Trixie asked.
“No. Oh shit!” Sasha exclaimed, turning to watch Trixie’s face. “She get roughed up, too?”
Trixie took a long drag and nodded, tapping the ash off her cigarette.
“Fuck, that’s like three we know of right? All around here?” Sasha asked.
“I’ve heard of a few over near Glenwood, but yeah. Angel, Sheri, and Magda - all here near Hennepin.”
“Dating?” Sasha asked, using the euphemism the women preferred.
Trixie inhaled and nodded slowly again. Sasha looked away before her face betrayed her concern, just in time to spy the large crack in the sidewalk. She stepped gingerly to be sure her foot didn’t get caught and mentally patted herself for insisting on changing shoes for the walk and bus ride home. If she hadn’t been trying to keep as much info about her personal life from the club owners as possible, she would have just driven. But the shared walks and rides gave her an opportunity to get to know her co-workers better and it kept the bouncers from knowing her license plate number. 
“I do not know how the fuck you walk home in those heels,” Sasha said, tossing her butt to the ground and pulling her long windbreaker out of her bag. “Your feet have to be killing you. I saw they scheduled you for two extra stage dances tonight. You okay with that?”
“Girl, I asked for it. I am so far behind with them.” Trixie took another drag and exhaled the smoke slowly. “I still have last month’s rent to work off and the first is coming up again soon. I’m so fucked.” 
“Do you know what you’re gonna do? Not…” 
“I’ll do what I have to do,” Trixie interrupted.
Sasha knew what that meant and fought every urge she had to remind her how dangerous it was. How there was no security down by the tracks like there was at the club. How anyone buying there wasn’t exactly gonna be rolling in cash, so she couldn’t quote club prices. How even if the club takes a larger cut of that illegal income than they do stage and floor work, at least she wouldn’t be isolated and without security.
But Trixie had already warned her months ago when Sasha had started at the club: Be careful how you talk to the other performers. They aren’t children and they don’t need your judgment. 
Trixie knew her from the clinic where Sasha had done some volunteer work and was shocked to see her at amateur night trying to hide behind a bombastic neon pink wig. Sasha recognized Trixie, too, and cornered her afterwards, begging her not to say anything to anyone about who she really was. She just wanted to see if she could actually get up on stage and put her old dance lessons to use before she asked for a job.
Trixie was wary, but liked her from the clinic and gave her the benefit. Sasha explained that she hoped to learn a little more about the circumstances that tended to lend themselves to starting a career in adult entertainment and what, if anything, women who found themselves here might need to either stay safe, both physically and emotionally, or get out altogether. Trixie agreed to help her navigate the waters. But she also made sure Sasha remembered to treat them like human beings. Not that Sasha would have ever intentionally done anything other than that, but when you don’t come from the life, there is always something to learn. Or rather unlearn.
Like the fact that they aren’t all strung-out coke-whores and very few of them actually have the daddy issues everyone thinks they do. Which Sasha was gradually learning as she made efforts to befriend and chat with all the women she met on her shifts.
And so, against all her better judgments, so many of which she’d willingly pushed aside these past few months, Sasha let Trixie go once they reached her bus stop. 
“Be careful. Please. Do you have your cell? Your panic button?” Sasha asked, trying to mask her true concern while she donned the dark coat and covered up for the ride.
“Yes, mom,” Trixie stuck out her tongue. “Look, I get it. I know things have gotten a little scary out there, but I’m stuck, Sasha. I can't borrow anymore from the club and I need to get them paid back. This is my only option.”
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Walter Marshall shifts into park and grabs the dark blue windbreaker from the passenger seat before stepping down from his Ford extended cab and heading towards the line of cops and yellow tape marking the scene. He swings the jacket around his shoulders with ease, slipping his arms through the sleeves and marking himself as someone who belongs behind the lines. A few uniformed officers step aside, one picking up the tape to let the Lieutenant pass under as he nods curtly in thanks.
It’s a grizzly mess. Or it would be if the responding units hadn’t already covered the body tossed carelessly a few yards back from the tracks.
Walter makes his way to his new partner, Mick Jonas, nodding towards him with the same grim reserve he showed the rookies. The CSI unit is still snapping photos of the surrounding area and scouring the ground for possible evidence as he squats low and lifts a corner of the police blanket. It takes all his nerve not to drop it again just as quickly.
“Jesus. Fuck.” It never fails to hit him hard.
“Yeah,” Detective Jonas agrees, fidgeting with the cigarette pack in his coat pocket and grateful he hadn’t lit up like he wanted to just as Marshall appeared. He didn’t need another dressing down about preserving the scene.
“Looks like someone went 12 rounds with her and she was on the ropes the whole time. This track with anything you’ve seen lately?” Walter asks.
“Not with bodies, no.”
“Something else then?” Walter questions, standing once again and leading Jonas back over the line.
“My girl, Lila. You know, she’s an ER nurse. Says there’s been a rash of girls coming in, beat up.”
“Girls?” Detective Marshall stiffens, curious about the ages and whether this is something Faye could get caught up in.
“Well, you know … I mean…,” Jonas stammers.
“Right, street workers then. You can just call them women, Mick.” He didn’t like to think about the fact that sometimes they really were girls. 
“Okay, yeah. And, well, strippers, too. I mean, that’s what she said.”
“But no police reports filed?” Walter opens the driver’s door and nods toward the passenger side. “You need a lift back to the station?”
“Yeah, I do, thanks.” After climbing in and closing the door, he continues. “And no, yeah, police reports were filed. Want me to see if I can grab ‘em when we get back?”
“You do that.”
Chapter 2 
Taglist:
Anything: @kittenofdoomage @mayloma @sillyrabbit81 @fvckinghenrycavill @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @summersong69 @mollymal (I can’t tag you two, sorry) (Also throwing in a few from the old days for old times sake ;) @littlegreenplasticsoldier @anotherwinchesterfangirl @sebbytrash @feelmyroarrrr​)
Night Moves: @luclittlepond (I can’t tag you, sorry) @enchantedbytomandhenry @kingliam2019  @henryownsme @geraltsyenn4eva
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silvrqueens · 2 years
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sex, love and stiletto headers
hey guys, i never have post much about twitter headers, but my gallery is full of them and i decided to post
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dunglizard · 10 months
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so I’m at my ten year college reunion (yeah if you missed my header somehow I am literally in my thirties)
there is now a VERY nice LGBTQ pride student organization and I’m so glad that current/future students have those resources available
they had a brunch for visiting alumni today which brings me to the subject of this post: my wife and I saw an extraordinarily powerful guy wearing an iridescent snakeskin print crop top, black cargo pants, and stiletto heels
when she complimented his outfit he said “thanks, it was really cheap 😏”
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stilettoarchive · 2 years
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sex, love & stiletto messy headers.
like/reblog if you save, or give credits to © daisynlincoln on twitter.
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cobaltedits · 3 years
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sex, love and stiletto headers
like or reblog if you save and credits to julialmlins on twitter.
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stilettoedits · 3 years
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like or reblog if you save, or give credits to © aiexsinciair on twitter
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literaredits · 2 years
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stiletto/oxford messy headlines headers. like or reblog if you save/use it.
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oxfordedits · 2 years
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stiletto/oxford messy headers
like or reblog if you save / © emnacassidy on twitter if you use
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sinclairedits · 3 years
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• irresistibly yours headers
you can like or reblog the post. and if you want, credit penwlopepope on twitter
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bookstwipacks · 3 years
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love the one you’re with headers
like/reblog or credit lilycloren on twitter
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maddiesflame · 2 years
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After the Kiss headers
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kakmoya · 3 years
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─ emmacassidy headers
› like if you save or use | Ⓒ oliiemia on twitter
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astalisedits · 3 years
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love the one you’re with - jakegrace headers
like or reblog if you save 🤍
credits on twitter @tillienate
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heronstuff · 3 years
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emmacassidy headers
like or reblog if you save
credits to @evercstairs on twitter
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