1940s slang

Gas - either a good time or something that was really funny
Pass the buck – pass responsibility for
Above my pay grade – don’t ask me
Killer-diller – good stuff
Fat-head – stupid or foolish person
Chrome-dome – word for a bald headed man
Eager beaver – enthusiastic helper
Fuddy-Duddy – old-fashioned person
Dope – Back in the 1940s this word meant information, however now it is another word for drugs.
Drop – This word meant to kill.
Geezer – This word was a derogatory term for an older person.
Bum rap – This referred to a false accusation.
Bust your chops – This phrase was basically meant as a scolding, maybe to yell, but not to literally hit someone.
Broad- a woman

Carry a Torch – to have a crush on someone
Cat’s Meow – something splendid or stylish; The best or greatest, wonderful
Dame- a woman
Gams – a woman’s legs
Grandstand – to show off
Applesauce – an expletive; same as horsefeathers, As in “Ah applesauce!
Jalopy – old car
Joint – a club, usually selling alcohol
Keen – attractive or appealing
Kisser – mouth
Line – insincere flattery
Stuck On – having a crush on
Swanky – ritzy
Swell- wonderful
Wise guy- a smart ass
Scram – ask someone to leave immediately
Gussy-to smarten up or dress up
outfit Military unit, a term with cowboy origins.
bad news- trouble
can- jail
ease up- calm down
get a load of that- look at that
hitch- to get married
hotshot- expert
in my book- in my opinion
patsy- scapegoat
pull - influence
paw- hand, as in “paws off!”
crummy - rotten, no good
wolf- aggressively forward man
get lost!
beat- exhausted
dang it!
Fall Guy - Victim of a frame
what a peach - referring to a sweet, charming, nice young woman
Buck up - cheer up, stiffen your spine

anonymous asked:

Steggy film noir AU (bonus: skinny!steve)

Ohhh good one!

  • Peggy Carter was a disgraced federal agent, too willing to do whatever was necessary to get the job done. She made a name for herself in all the wrong circles, and after her fall from grace, she became the fixer, the woman who would find the person who couldn’t be found, catch the person who couldn’t be caught, destroy the person who couldn’t be destroyed.
  • Steve Rogers was an artist who was loved by all but known by few. When his best friend James “Bucky” Barnes went missing after weeks of muttering strange names in his sleep and late night meetings with shady figures, he knew that the regular authorities would not be his allies in his attempts to find his best friend.
  • Peggy was halfway through a bottle of whiskey when the slight blond man with power behind his gaze strode into her office, lip bleeding and one eye almost swollen shut. He threw a file down on her desk (narrowly missing the now useless badge she had stolen on her way out from the agency) and said two words that made the room spin (and not because of the whiskey): “Red Skull.”
  • The file, according to Steve, had been obtained by him from some less than morally upright members of the police force, and he wanted to hire Peggy to help him find Bucky and retrieve him from the hold of the man who had ruined Peggy’s life, killed her brother, and engineered her expulsion from the job and the world in which she had thrived. (She said yes, because how could she not take this chance for vengeance)
  • Their search took two years and 1200 cups of coffee, late-night meetings in back alleys and early-morning discussions on a bench three blocks from Peggy’s flat. Even as they became consumed with ending the reign of the Red Skull, Peggy found herself sitting close enough to Steve that their thighs touched, and Steve found himself looking for excuses to touch her forearm, her brown curls, her cheek. 
  • She thought she lost him in their grand attempt to destroy the Red Skull and save Bucky from his clutches, and the dancing date they had foolishly made before infiltrating his stronghold hung heavy on her heart for eighteen months, until Steve showed up at her door, a foot taller and towing a man with a metal arm behind him, telling stories of serums and winter fortresses and a too-long sleep
  • (Every time they danced, in clubs and their flat and on a picnic at the park, he stepped on her feet. But that was okay, because she stepped on his too)

[send me an au]

Fic teaser:

London, 1951

There are two types of people who come to the Trader’s: those who pay by the hour and those who pay by the month. The first type hide their faces behind wide-brimmed hats and upturned coat collars. The second type knows no one cares about their identity. They are invisible, forgotten. Pariahs wearing their scars like badges of honour.

Hardy had never imagined he’d be one of them.


Warnings for mentions of child abuse and hate crimes and descriptions of sexual content, violence, and gore. AO3 Link

The city smelled like blood. It had been raining for days, maybe even weeks, but it seemed to Mickey that the pavement would never be clean, never washed away of the stains soaked in. It was to be expected, the stench. It was not commented on. Mickey supposed that was fine with him. It was his job, anyway, finding the blood that others ignored, and ignoring whatever blood came after he reported what he knew. This city was perfect for him, and he for it, sitting in his office with his head tossed back, looking out upside-down into the gray day through his open window.

Keep reading

Nights at the Trader’s.1

Characters: Alec Hardy x Hannah Baxter ; Ellie Miller, Paul Coates, Ben, Bambi, Duncan. 

Genre: Film Noir AU; Broadchurch x Secret diary of a call girl xover

Rating: Adult

Summary: London, 1951. Hardy has recently moved to the city and is staying at The Trader’s Inn, a seedy hotel on the bad side of town. He’s a by-the-book cop and prides himself on being more upstanding than most of his colleagues. Until Duncan approaches him with an interesting offer: his mistress, Hannah, has gone missing, and he’s willing to pay the DI a lot of money in exchange for his collaboration and discretion. With the help of his resourceful secretary, Mrs. Miller, he will uncover truths that threaten his own secrets.

TW: lots of smoking and drinking (as per the genre)

A/N: Duncan was Hannah’s editor and boyfriend, he was played by James D’Arcy

Many thanks to the brilliant fadewithfury for the beta.

Catch up here or on or on  Ao3

June 1951

London. What a city for Detective Inspector Alec Hardy to waste away the rest of his days, solving petty crimes and drinking too much. He enjoyed its rudeness and its anonymity. He liked the way it had rebuilt itself after the war, a brand new London, but its scars still shone.

His eyes unfocused, and he caught his own reflection on the glass pane: unkempt hair, stubbly cheeks and sunken eyes. What a sight.

A sharp whistle caught his attention, and he looked down at a group of bobbies on the sidewalk. They were having a smoke and cat-calling women passing by. A strong blast of wind ruffled the ladies’ dresses, and they looked up as the sky resonated with ominous thunder. Pedestrians ran amok, seeking shelter before the storm broke. Lightening flashed, a brief warning before the rain.

In another office, someone had left the radio on. The staccato of fat drops against glass complimented the melody weaving its way through the empty second floor of the police station.

Hardy’s eyes darted to the drawer where he kept a flask of whisky— Glengoyne, from his hometown— but he decided against it.

Keep reading


Drarry Inspirations -  Laura AU

“If he would just step out of that painting, it’d be a great help, eh Mr. Harry?” Dobby asked. Harry huffed out a laugh and glanced at the cool grey eyes in the immortalized image of Draco Malfoy. The now familiar smirk taunted him from above the fireplace. He idly wondered if Malfoy had actually  smiled like that or if the painter was a just bit in love with him at the time. 

Probably both, Harry thought wryly, shuffling through his statements and imagining what would be like if Draco Malfoy and his smirk decided to step out of that canvas and solve his case for him.


Couple of quick sketches for @artistefish’s fic ‘Miroku, Private Eye’ (I.e., my new obsession). The idea of a 30’s/film noir AU is possibly one of the best to come to the internet. Plus I can’t get enough of InuYasha calling Kagome “Kitten.” Hope you like these :’)

The Extractor

Once a criminal mastermind, Dom Cobb hasn’t been the same since his wife pulled the Dutch act. Oddly enough, the head doctors declared her sane. Rather than take the fall for it, Cobb made a clean sneak. No one’s ever asked him if he offed his wife, and he’s not tipping his mitt any time soon.

1940s drinks

Note that cocktails from the 1930s and ‘40s were predominantly based on gin, rum, brandy or whiskey - vodka did not make an appearance (in American cocktails) until the 1950s.

  • Gimlet
  • Whiskey sour
  • Manhattan
  • Martini
  • Sidecar
  • Tom Collins
  • Gin rickey
  • Old fashioned
  • Mint julep
  • Mojito
  • Scotch & soda
  • Rye whiskey (straight, out of the bottle)
  • Sherry flip