Here, I mean.

Well, I would look at your art, but I'm not sure I could give helpful feedback.

Other than having to link to things rather than post directly in the thread, I personally don't see any issue with using this thread as a place to gather feedback on fanart as well as fanfic.

It's not about a lack of place, I'm more being pouty at the lack of people.

Latest chapter: [link]

This chapter has the Trio in it. [link] hope you find some sympatico fanartists soon, ita. I never got much past stick figures, myself.

You know what's ickier than writing a sex scene? Going back to edit several sex scenes in order to make them less explicit in order to make them fit FFN standards. And then going back over all of them two more times because one realizes one's idea of suggestive is probably still too full of named body parts and actions which are a bit too specific. Icky, icky, icky.

Thank heavens for AO3.

Also, now I have vastly more sympathy for pulp romance writers whose euphemisms can end up being so ridiculous.

And now I have an urge to abandon sensuality and eroticism and jump right into the crudest written bad-porn I can manage. Fuck, tits, dick, pussy, bunghole, stick it in and push it harder, harder, scream yeah fuck fuck fuck .

less explicit in order to make them fit FFN standards

Does that even count anymore? I just wrapped up reading a 18 year olds into BDSM fic featuring anal beads (aren't you all glad I shared) on FFN, and the author has plenty of stuff that explicit for my pairing. I thought it was only empty talk at this point.

What's the penalty if you get dinged for porniness?

Ao3 has been having technical issues...tell the truth, it's just *whipped*

I liked this fine when I posted it, but now I'm having some doubts about my Spike.

"Damn," Buffy cursed under her breath as she tried, for what seemed to be the millionth time, to get Raylan's head out of recidivism statistics, and into calling her back, and maybe, please, God, patrolling tonight? Her mom tried not to complain, but she could see that Joyce's headaches were becoming far worse. They should probably go to Urgent Care. Giles said he could stop in that night and check in on Dawn, but as a fighter? He made a better librarian. She had to have this resolved very soon or her mom would go all stoic and try to treat her pains with all the herbal stuff Tara gave her, which was sweet and all, but not like being checked by someone who knew something.She pictured Raylan's abandoned phone blasting out the opening of "Honky-Tonk Woman" loud enough to annoy the person in the next carrel but not really even denting her sweetheart's sense of purpose. Sometimes, it was great having a partner who was so single-minded(although thinking about it sometimes made her blush, but at a time like this? It really sucked. She was pretty sure it was only worry that made her curt when she said "Don't worry about it...I'll get someone else," and she wasn't even sure what she was going to do till she counted the three twenties in her pink purse...a relic of much lighter, happier days. Dawn, who despite testing into the gifted program in junior high, was chortling at "Spongebob", barely noticed when she slipped out, let alone askingto come like usual. It was a rare reprieve.
Striding purposely toward the cemetery, she allowed herself a momentary wish that her dad could have been a cliche right here in Sunnydale...maybe he could have taken Joyce to the doctor or something, left her with only the *one* difficult destiny, what would be wrong with that?
Despite her businesslike intentions, she felt herself beginning to well up and she was grateful for the cover of darkness. She made her way to Spike's crypt and pounded on the door. A moment later she heard something about "bloody pizza delivery" and the door was open a crack.

"Slayer...you're not Domino's. .."

"Never mind that. I hate to admit it, but I need you, Spike."

"Sheriff Matt Dillon's not getting it done for you, is he? Having a romance with his horse, or something?"

"What the hell are you talking about? And why are you getting a pizza? You don't need to eat."

"You don't need to eat pudding cups, either, but I know that you do."

"Mostly, those are Dawn's...wait, are you going through my garbage now? And when did Matt Dillon play a sheriff?"

"Your trouble, Slayer, is that you're just so bleeding young.Still, you must want...something." Spike couldn't resist laying it on, even though her not knowing what he was on about did rather puncture the fantasy. Even he had to admit, though, that American telly had come a long way since those early days. He sometimes missed his ducktail, though. Eating girls with circle pins...mid-century had been an underrated era, menace-wise. It had to be, he supposed, with three channels.

"I need you to help patrol tonight," she said, holding two twenties out like a distress flag. "So I can take my mother to the emergency room."

No wonder she forgot to be repelled about the garbage. He had had this whole line about knowing his enemy, and recon, but he didn't need to bother now.

Buffy saw, with some surprise, that the vampire looked concerned. "Is your mum going to be all right, then?" He lunged forward, but he only took one of the proffered bills. "I don't know. I really hope so."

"I'd do it for free...this is just to replace my pizza.I don't want to leave *y'all* completely undefended, unlike a certain former coal miner of our mutual acquaintance."

"Stop it...I didn't come here to talk about him."

"It's not my fault 'Fire in the hole' turned out to be just an expression, love, now is it?"

"Don't be disgusting, Spike. For the record, (continued...)