Names. Lots and lots of names. And just being very careful with that one English grammar rule of a pronoun referring to the last noun used. They feel awkward while writing; they are invisible to the reader.
I hate epithets, they throw me out of a work.
So like. For my friend, I'm writing one of the rarest of rare SGA/SG1 crossover pairings, but it's our rare pairing, so, and the entire thing is just lots of names. I will give you an example from my WIP that's my break from serious orig fic. (Fair warning, I have one slightly non-canonical nickname, but it's a personal thing in between the two of us, I cannot stress that enough, we've spent, uh, a couple decades developing our personal headcanon here?)
Elizabeth arched her back, almost without her conscious mind involved. She was too far from Janet, she needed too much, and was too, too close to a mind-shattering orgasm. Janet was gentle, stilling her fingers, looking up through her eyelashes at Elizabeth with that same wicked smile that made her weak-kneed when they were eighteen.
"Janet, I want--" Elizabeth went from smooth diplomat to fumbling, desperate and wanting with Janet's fingers filling her, Janet's mouth on her, but not moving. Elizabeth tried to take control, to arch her hips and insist that Janet give her everything she needed, but no, as soon as Elizabeth moved again, Janet pulled back and pressed her free hand on Elizabeth's stomach, holding her in place.
Janet pulled her fingers out and Elizabeth whimpered, as Janet slid the pads of her fingertips along Elizabeth's entrance, dragging them through slick, wet heat and shorting out Elizabeth's brain. Fire danced along her nerves.
"Don't move, Liz. Just wait for me." Janet's voice was low and sultry, and her breath fluttered along Elizabeth's clit. It was almost too much. It wasn't enough.
She wanted. She ached. Elizabeth was nothing but need and desire and Janet was playing her body like a finely-tuned instrument, with every muscle trembling in anticipation. "Janet, damn you," muttered Elizabeth.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2022-01-25 02:27 am (UTC)I hate epithets, they throw me out of a work.
So like. For my friend, I'm writing one of the rarest of rare SGA/SG1 crossover pairings, but it's our rare pairing, so, and the entire thing is just lots of names. I will give you an example from my WIP that's my break from serious orig fic. (Fair warning, I have one slightly non-canonical nickname, but it's a personal thing in between the two of us, I cannot stress that enough, we've spent, uh, a couple decades developing our personal headcanon here?)
Elizabeth arched her back, almost without her conscious mind involved. She was too far from Janet, she needed too much, and was too, too close to a mind-shattering orgasm. Janet was gentle, stilling her fingers, looking up through her eyelashes at Elizabeth with that same wicked smile that made her weak-kneed when they were eighteen.
"Janet, I want--" Elizabeth went from smooth diplomat to fumbling, desperate and wanting with Janet's fingers filling her, Janet's mouth on her, but not moving. Elizabeth tried to take control, to arch her hips and insist that Janet give her everything she needed, but no, as soon as Elizabeth moved again, Janet pulled back and pressed her free hand on Elizabeth's stomach, holding her in place.
Janet pulled her fingers out and Elizabeth whimpered, as Janet slid the pads of her fingertips along Elizabeth's entrance, dragging them through slick, wet heat and shorting out Elizabeth's brain. Fire danced along her nerves.
"Don't move, Liz. Just wait for me." Janet's voice was low and sultry, and her breath fluttered along Elizabeth's clit. It was almost too much. It wasn't enough.
She wanted. She ached. Elizabeth was nothing but need and desire and Janet was playing her body like a finely-tuned instrument, with every muscle trembling in anticipation. "Janet, damn you," muttered Elizabeth.