Break (No I'm not leaving)

So, kittens. Fate has gently but firmly washed me up onto the shallow, uncomfortable shoreline of a creative crisis. It’s still too early to start posting sad food photos with melancholic music playing in the background (hi, Kojima), but here we are anyway. No, the ideas didn’t magically evaporate — even now I’ve got a good ten-plus plotlines rattling around in my head — but...

Historical friction happened.

My bots include things that are currently censored pretty much everywhere (and no, I’m not talking about NSFW). I don’t support oppression of any kind — sensitive topics exist there for realism, for worldbuilding, and for the messy, uncomfortable reality of the 1980s that Stranger Things characters actually live in. Otherwise, half of the original arcs — Hellfire included, as a mirror of the ‘80s moral panic — just lose their meaning.

And yet, I still caught a handful of accusations (somehow?), despite everything being clearly tagged with Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Spit it out. Don’t pretend you weren’t warned.
Long story short: I genuinely need to sit down and think about whether I want to keep insisting on historical accuracy, or lean into universal, all-encompassing love — which, as we know, is mostly achievable in fantasy. Conveniently, that is fertile ground.

I honestly don’t know will whether this part gets censored or whether it’s the reason people will report my bots. Somehow, stories about a CEO boss of the Indo-Russian mafia named Cho Ko Pai — a cheating dominant alpha with three wives and a generous side of probable user-directed abuse — turned out to be more acceptable and 'tolerant' than an attempt to actually reflect history.

Well... Huh. (With due respect, I really appreciate this type of bots sometimes. It's not about plots and bots, but about reactions.)

On the feeling of secondhand ideas.

There’s also this deeply annoying sense that everything I write has already been written three times over and neatly packaged into bots by someone else — that I’m just pacing in circles, retracing someone else’s footsteps. Ugh. As you can imagine, philosophical–existential questions are fundamentally pointless... and yet they still demand time to resolve. Ridiculous, really.

Boundaries.

Slowly but surely, I’ve started asking myself whether I’m parasitizing these characters. The 1980s — and realism in general — are beginning to feel tight around the edges (not because of the historical friction). So I’ve been seriously considering starting to post my own OCs. There’s already an entire series sitting in my drafts, complete with fully thought-out lore — actual lorebooks, dear god.

I think I need to take a pause before I decide which direction I’m moving in next.

Am I quitting?

Nope.
I’ve still got requests. I’ve still got ideas. I just need to figure out the format going forward, so I don’t get stuck in one role forever, god forbid.

And I definitely promised someone Jonathan. And Robin.

So I’m taking a two-week break — until New Year’s, basically :)

Merry Jesus B-day, happy whatever-time-of-day-it-is-for-you, happy New Year, joyful 正月, good luck with Volume 2 and the final episode — and, above all, stay healthy.

Hugs for everyone.

P.S. Everyone in the comments will get a song or a movie/series recommendation.
This is my personal equivalent of posting food photos set to a sad saxophone solo — and a subtle sign of life (and possibly a threat).

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