Oh, wow! I haven't seen any old-lady fic at DD since. . .well, probably since the last time I wrote some. And what a delightful return to the DD stage they make! Your plot is inspired -- I can't think of a better use for a "drag king" kink than Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank as Elvis. I can so clearly see her, with her silver pompadour and (I hope) her blue suede shoes. And I can imagine her as a young blade, too. No wonder Minerva fell for her.
Some of my favorite lines:
Instead of inky black hair piled into a cocky looking quiff, Wil’s hair had less volume and the colour was a bright silvery white.
It wasn’t rare for Wil to wear such things now, but she tended to do so more for her own comfort, and to accommodate the warm tweeds she had accumulated over the years when they took a walk to their local pub for fish and chips or a Sunday roast. What a great image -- so characteristic.
She could taste the faint and familiar tobacco on her lips, mingling with the strong flavour of brandy. Mmmmmm......
Wil began to look more confident and moved with a slight swagger to collect her guitar I can just see her.
and the gramophone hummed with memories. Lovely ending.
Some of my favorite lines:
Instead of inky black hair piled into a cocky looking quiff, Wil’s hair had less volume and the colour was a bright silvery white.
It wasn’t rare for Wil to wear such things now, but she tended to do so more for her own comfort, and to accommodate the warm tweeds she had accumulated over the years when they took a walk to their local pub for fish and chips or a Sunday roast.
What a great image -- so characteristic.
She could taste the faint and familiar tobacco on her lips, mingling with the strong flavour of brandy.
Mmmmmm......
Wil began to look more confident and moved with a slight swagger to collect her guitar
I can just see her.
and the gramophone hummed with memories.
Lovely ending.