Papercuts1 > Recent Status Updates

Very cyberpunkily descriptive and lots of techno-speak, with snappy action kicking things off.

At this point, I’d suggest a salt-and-burn.

Creepy paintings, faint whimpering and cold drafts - its giving “gothic” indeed.

So this one’s friends-to-lovers, then.
I like both Sally and Wyatt, although he gets way too excited about her wearing a thong.

This is exhausting, in a way that feels necessary.

[My son’s] face, which I could finally, suddenly, gloriously remember, did to me what it always did when I looked upon it. It filled me up with a terrifying mix of emotions: love, guilt, the weight of responsibility, pride, sadness, affection, joy. It had always been that way, since the day he was born. Colossal joy, unimaginable fear, indelibly intertwined. A thorny vine upon which roses grew.

Feels like wading through tar, but also deeply personal, so I’m gonna keep going, just like the main character.

Kids, I TOLD you to always use a condom, too. *sigh*

The spice is spicing, but it’s a little too in-the-face for me. Like, literally. And - ew - on a bathroom sink in a bar? You do you, kids, but that’s a no from me. *sprays Clorox*

THERE WAS ONLY ONE HORSE 🤣

It’s turned into an evil thriller now, with time running out.

Oh, this took a dark turn. A really, REALLY dark turn. I’m a little scared how this will end.

*eye roll* I know. We’ve been here before. I’ve tried cowboy romances and didn’t like them. So why, again? Easy - the perimenopause gets what the perimenopause wants. And currently it wants to fall asleep to the twang of a Texas accent and the description of a man’s butt in tight-fitting bootcut jeans.

“The cottage is hunched like its mistress, curved inward as if it cannot bear to look at the world. Something drips from the windowsills, puddles by the door, sadness is wrapped around the place. I take another step, and it slicks onto my shoes.”

Oh no. Oh my heart. 💔

No, we’re not doing that. We’re not killing off any of my favorite characters today. *glares*

‘Everything in Valentine's life still hurt, and the future was so uncertain that he needed something physical to grab hold of.
He held on to Osric.’

Oh? A throuple? We have poly rep now, too.

Still soft spoken, still gentle, but now with kisses included.

Densely written intro with loads of info- and history-dumping. And it’s clearly a complex space opera. Might not be my thing, but I’m giving it the chance to warm up and grow on me.

Valentine: „What do you call a mind like that?“
Osric: „Wonderful.“

(Valentine is neurodivergent, possibly ADD-ish.)

I have such a spot for artificial beings becoming sentient and learning how to human.

New genre unlocked: cozy trans dystopian sci-fi.

This is so eerie. And I’m beginning to understand the title. Which makes it even more eerie.

‘“I know how it feels to have people look at you and not see who you really are," Osric said, quietly. "Or to refuse to see it."’

If this is going where I think it might be going, we have the most ingenious and fitting link between (post)-pandemic literature and the AI topic I’ve come across so far. And I both hope and fear I’m having the correct hunch.

A very interesting parable between this trans boy yearning for gender-affirming surgery and hormones, and the AI stuck in a foreign, android body it wants to get out off.
I like these two already.

The pandemic part is eerie and makes my skin a crawl a bit. The AI part is very intriguing. Did it foresee all this? Did mankind listen to its warnings? Or not?

What the flying fuck NOOO!!!