Coming Soon to a Theater Dashboard Near You! DOUBLE DEALINGS.
Doubles movie poster by @stardustandskycrystals
Please take your seats. The show will begin soon!
That's right, get comfortable. We'll just start up this old projector and be with you in a jiffy. Be careful if you've chosen the absinthe...
Whirring clicks begin. Flickering on the screen. The smell of popcorn and mint candy. A high energy piano riff begins.
"A new sensation set to sweep the nation and the world!
A Stardust On Record Production
Starring: Pedro Pascal as
'Monsieur Ezra Peña'
and
'Señor Javier Peña'
And
ORIGINAL FEMALE CHARACTER as 'Dolly'
Double Dealings is a Javier Peña x OFC and Ezra x OFC 1920s!AU fic by @stardustandskycrystals and myself. The fic takes place in "The Basement", a speakeasy club in New Orleans, LA in 1927 and stars Dolly Hadley, a young singer entranced by club owner "Monsieur Peña". She has no idea that falling for her boss is about to become way more complicated when one Monsieur becomes two...
Notes to know:
À la Moulin Rouge, this fic has plenty of anachronistic music mentioned. With some exceptions, the rest of the fic is historically accurate. This is not a song fic.
This fic introduces a "poly vee" polyamorous unit. This means that one person is shared by two others, and the pairing is not a "throuple". Find out more about what that means.
Warnings will be listed at the beginning of each chapter. See this list for some tropes/content to watch for in Doubles.
French and Spanish are used periodically in various dialects, including Mexican Spanish, Creole French, Parisian French, and more. Neither of us are native speakers of these languages, however we have done our best to research and beta non-English words and phrases for accuracy. (Find something wrong? Let us know!)
Ready to see double? Cheers. 🥂 Click the read more for a sneak peek of chapter one. We're so excited to welcome you to The Basement!
“Perhaps,” is all he says, and the ache inside you pangs. You wish he had said more. Would say more. Would look at you again with those dark, endless eyes.
You swallow hard. “And what now?”
His gaze trails over you, almost lazily. “Hm,” Ezra grunts, as though amused. “Come tomorrow, pretty thing. Sing for me again before I have to share you, won’t you?”
The thing bubbling in you jumps and twists, purring. “Yes, sir.”
His eyebrow quirks.
“Monsieur,” you correct yourself, and when he smiles, you wonder if this is what the old stories mean, to be under a spell, to be bewitched.
“Again,” he murmurs.
“Monsieur?” you ask, your voice thick.
“Hm,” he rumbles, eyes sparkling. “Yes, I think you’ll do nicely in my club, oiseau. A little lark like you is exactly what these old bones need.”
“You think so?”
“No, girl.” His grin is a flash, a wicked thing. “I know so.”
His hand extends up to you to assist you off of the stage. When you take it, it’s dry and warm, and as soon as your French heels alight on the ground again, you’re slightly taken aback by how big he is.
It’s not that he’s tall. No, at least not much taller than most men, a head or so above you. It’s that up close, you feel really rather small. His left hand easily envelops your right, and the width of him is encompassing. Your eyes scan over the broad expanse of his shoulders, wondering as your cheeks warm whether the strange way he wears his coat like a shawl has anything to do with it. You catch the scent of coffee, tobacco, and something else. Cologne?
“Lola?”
Now you’re blushing, but you can’t deny a rivulet of pleasure drips down your spine at your new name. Your new identity. For at this moment, Lola can be anything.
You meet his eyes and discover they are a rich mahogany, and seemingly depthless as they stare at you, the corners crinkling slightly as a smile slides up one side of his face. You feel your pulse throb in your throat. Those eyes look like they could swallow you whole.
“Welcome to The Basement, Lola Sparrow,” Ezra says, and lifts your fingers to his lips in a brief kiss.
