Sharp, cunning, and dangerous, Arthur’s good at what he does and knows it. There’s talk that he’s a gunsel. Strangely enough, everyone who’s ever hinted at the idea has ended up at the bottom of the Hudson.
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! knucklehead baby 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
A freelance scratcher, Eames works on either side of the law, depending on the fee. You’ll never know where his loyalties lie, whether he’s telling you the truth, or even his real name, but damn if he isn’t the best man for the job.
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)
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.
Robert Fischer has always stood in his father’s shadow. But with Maurice Fischer in ailing health, it’s his turn to step into the spotlight and take over for his old man. Is he up to it? Not if Saito can help it…
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.
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
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.
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
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
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.
Delicate, gracile, deadly, the late Mal Cobb was the sort of dame who could bring grown men to their knees. An exquisite broad in life, she lives on only in the mind of her husband and haunts his dreams at night.
“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 :’)
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.
A continuation of my sorta Avengers Film Noir AU. Natasha Romonoff would be, I think, an undercover Police Officer. I considered making her a Private Eye type, and someone suggested a Femme Fatale Moll thing, but I think that’s a bit of a misreading of the character.