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twistingsnake 's review for:
Serious Weakness
by Porpentine Charity Heartscape
challenging
dark
funny
reflective
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I feel like I could rate this 5 stars. I might. There was a lag in the middle section that felt like it took away from how live wire and addicting this felt to read but if it haunts my brain long enough I might just give it the .5 anyway.
This actually is a modern classic. Emphasis on modern: this is a blood soaked time capsule for everything wrong and damaged with the kids right now. It’s a The 21st century Breakfast Club where everyone’s either a school shooter or a faggot or both. They’re going to read this monstrosity in 30 years call it a window to a different time. A greasy, peeling slur stickered window. Fight Club for fujoshis.
This thing is grotesque, insulting damaged, and actually funny. There’s a scene involving 20 drive through salads that might be the funniest thing I’ve read in years. It’s smart, self-aware, and the author is clearly getting off on how gross it all is. Which pisses me off a little, because I was too. It always has the opportunity to be brainless and embarrassing and it never is and it should be. A little. It’s just well written enough to never drink its own kool-aid into incompetency.
Insul might be the only good sadist this genre has ever produced and it’s because he’s just so pathetic and worthless you really see him for the human being he is instead of a knife wielding dick on wheels. It’s refreshing, but also it makes you realize why the women who write twink torture porn never give their evil sexy tops a rich inner life. Because it’s not really hot the type of person you’d need to be in order to chain someone to your radiator. This book is brave enough to say that. I do think the majority of this book’s audience will relate with the pathetic twink in the dress (as they always do! the top shortage of fucked up yaoi enjoyers is real and alive and is never going to die) I personally though, really understood Insul as someone who once wanted to chain a pathetic guy to my radiator just so he could see me.
At its heart it’s both a love letter and deconstruction of the jock sadist meets twink he wants to chop the legs off of genre. It loves its source so much, and gleefully hacks it into tiny technicolor pieces.
The last third of this book is so predicable but it goes about it in a way that absolutely isn’t it. It’s got balls. It’s so fucking weird. I inhaled it like someone else’s birthday coke. I kind of want to stop thinking about it but I don’t think I can.
Read this book. Or don’t? Depends on your search history I guess.
(I can handle pretty much anything a trigger warning can throw at me. I inhale sludge for sexual gratification but the sexual assault scenes in this felt like reopening an old wound and that’s probably the highest praise I can give to a rape scene.
These type of books never really understand what it’s like to be raped - actually - but this one
does. So do with that as you will.)
This actually is a modern classic. Emphasis on modern: this is a blood soaked time capsule for everything wrong and damaged with the kids right now. It’s a The 21st century Breakfast Club where everyone’s either a school shooter or a faggot or both. They’re going to read this monstrosity in 30 years call it a window to a different time. A greasy, peeling slur stickered window. Fight Club for fujoshis.
This thing is grotesque, insulting damaged, and actually funny. There’s a scene involving 20 drive through salads that might be the funniest thing I’ve read in years. It’s smart, self-aware, and the author is clearly getting off on how gross it all is. Which pisses me off a little, because I was too. It always has the opportunity to be brainless and embarrassing and it never is and it should be. A little. It’s just well written enough to never drink its own kool-aid into incompetency.
Insul might be the only good sadist this genre has ever produced and it’s because he’s just so pathetic and worthless you really see him for the human being he is instead of a knife wielding dick on wheels. It’s refreshing, but also it makes you realize why the women who write twink torture porn never give their evil sexy tops a rich inner life. Because it’s not really hot the type of person you’d need to be in order to chain someone to your radiator. This book is brave enough to say that. I do think the majority of this book’s audience will relate with the pathetic twink in the dress (as they always do! the top shortage of fucked up yaoi enjoyers is real and alive and is never going to die) I personally though, really understood Insul as someone who once wanted to chain a pathetic guy to my radiator just so he could see me.
At its heart it’s both a love letter and deconstruction of the jock sadist meets twink he wants to chop the legs off of genre. It loves its source so much, and gleefully hacks it into tiny technicolor pieces.
The last third of this book is so predicable but it goes about it in a way that absolutely isn’t it. It’s got balls. It’s so fucking weird. I inhaled it like someone else’s birthday coke. I kind of want to stop thinking about it but I don’t think I can.
Read this book. Or don’t? Depends on your search history I guess.
(I can handle pretty much anything a trigger warning can throw at me. I inhale sludge for sexual gratification but the sexual assault scenes in this felt like reopening an old wound and that’s probably the highest praise I can give to a rape scene.
These type of books never really understand what it’s like to be raped - actually - but this one
does. So do with that as you will.)