It’s weird how this game starts like it wants to be romantic, and then ten minutes later it’s already elbow-deep in pure dirty chaos. One minute Violet’s giving you that look like she’s pretending to be shy, the next she’s dragging you somewhere private and asking if you’ll “watch her with someone else.” I swear it caught me off guard even though the tags should’ve warned me. There’s a sense the dev probably reads too much late-night fanfic because somehow Rangiku shows up, then Tsunade, and none of it makes any sense story-wise but it *works*, in that guilty way where your brain says “nah” but your hand’s already on the mouse. The animation’s smoother than expected - especially that ridiculous scene with Fubuki teasing you through a half-open door, talking about her “training schedule” like that explains anything.

Anyway, what actually surprised me was how human some of the writing feels when it stops trying to sound like porn dialogue. Like there’s this one quiet bit after the whole netorase mess where Eric just sits, pissed off and turned on at the same time. It’s clumsy, messy, hot - exactly how that sort of fantasy should feel. But then it immediately ruins the mood by throwing in a crossover cameo from Makima, who literally does not care about continuity and just starts talking about control mid-blowjob. Still, that kind of randomness is what makes it addictive; you never know if the next click is gonna bring soft moaning or someone getting their ego destroyed. Kinda like browsing old adult forums again - half cringe, half fascination.

Oh, and whoever coded the exhibitionism scenes deserves a medal. The one with Violet teasing you in public while pretending to check her phone, yeah - that’s burned into my brain. There’s something slightly broken about the transitions, though I almost prefer it that way; it makes it feel less scripted, more like stumbling into something you shouldn’t see. I keep telling myself I’m done with it, then remember there’s still that hidden route with Tatsumaki and bam - back again, no shame left to lose.

Didn’t expect a parody game about cartoon moms and princesses to hit that weird sweet spot between trashy and oddly sincere, but here we are. It starts all innocent - bright colors, the kind of smooth animation that screams “safe for work” for about five seconds before the camera decides it’s not. The first scene with Violet trying to figure herself out (and failing, spectacularly) caught me off guard. She fumbles, she blushes, she *asks questions* like a real person instead of a scripted puppet. Then Helen shows up, and the tone flips. Suddenly it’s not awkward anymore, it’s charged - like someone turned the thermostat up but forgot to tell the characters. I laughed once, then shut up quick. Didn’t expect to feel anything, honestly.

The transitions are too slow, though. Like, you can feel the kinetic novel format dragging its feet sometimes, holding poses too long between lines. But the writing sneaks up on you - it’s not clever, but it’s self-aware enough to poke fun at itself. Elsa and Anna showing up later? Total chaos. The kind of chaos that makes you question who’s actually in control - the player, the “director,” or the girls themselves just deciding they’re done pretending. There’s one scene - you’ll know when you see it - where everything goes from soft kisses to something much rougher, and you can practically hear the line snapping between “curious” and “corrupted.” And yeah, the POV angles are shameless, but that’s kind of the point. It’s not pretending to be art, even when it accidentally becomes it for a frame or two.

What sticks isn’t the sex (though, okay, the anal bit was animated way too well for a parody). It’s that weird emotional aftertaste - like watching a bootleg Disney ending where nobody gets redeemed, they just get *real*. The soundtrack fades out, the light lingers on sweat-slick skin, and you realize the game never promised catharsis, just exposure. And somehow, that’s more honest than most “serious” adult titles trying to act profound.

It starts with a weird kind of quiet, like you’re waiting for someone to say something they shouldn’t. The first scene pulls you in because it doesn’t even try to be shocking - it just *is*. Anna’s voice has this tone that sits between teasing and sincere, like she’s half‑ashamed of wanting to talk about what she wants. And then you realize, the game isn’t really about her leaving for Italy; it’s about how much you can stand watching her become someone else. There’s a moment where she sends you a photo - nothing too wild - and yet it feels heavier than the later scenes where everyone’s naked. I think that’s the trick: it makes you feel complicit before you even click the next line.

The humor sneaks in when you least expect it. There’s a bit where one of the side characters, can’t even remember his name now, tries to give “advice” about open relationships using a sandwich metaphor that’s absolutely terrible but somehow right. The writing jumps from filthy to tender so fast you almost get whiplash. Sometimes it feels mean on purpose, especially when Shego shows up - yeah, they went full parody there - and suddenly the tone flips again, all green eyes and cruel smirks, leather snapping against skin like punctuation. The game keeps forgetting it’s supposed to be sexy and then accidentally becomes it. One minute you’re laughing, next minute someone’s wrists are tied and you’ve forgotten why you were amused.

I’ll admit, I got weirdly obsessed with the sound design. The moans don’t loop cleanly; they stutter, slightly off‑tempo, and that imperfection makes it more real. There’s a scene with a mirror - voyeur stuff, sure - but what caught me is how the reflection lags a frame behind. Maybe intentional, maybe not. Doesn’t matter. It messes with your head. The pacing’s uneven, some transitions abrupt, but that chaos fits the story. If I could change one thing, I wouldn’t. Or maybe I would, but only to make it worse. Hard to tell anymore.

Anna looks like that person you see in the subway who already gave up on the day before 9 in the morning. Gray office, gray boss, gray everything, with the one bright spot being Lucy spamming her phone with stupid memes and soft kisses through text. That feeling when your life is dying slowly but your girl sends you a selfie in elf ears and a tiny bikini and suddenly your whole body goes “oh”. That’s where this game lives, in that dirty little spark between “I love her” and “I kinda want to ruin this”.

Stuff escalates fast once Lucy sends those cosplay photos. They aren’t just cute. They’re horny as hell, and not just because her chest is almost falling out of the costume. There’s this guy, Sig123, always right there in frame, just off to the side, a hand on her hip, a shadow leaning in, and the game keeps shoving his presence in your face without shouting it. One shot has his fingers holding the zipper on her back, another is his lap visible under her as she sits “for the pose”. You’re Anna, looking through Lucy’s gallery, pretending it’s fine, scrolling, zooming in on small details like lipstick slightly smudged or her eyes not looking at the camera, and your brain just starts writing its own porn fanfic you never asked for. Suddenly you’re jerking off to the idea of your own girlfriend being shared, and you hate it, and you also click “next” again.

What I liked is that it doesn’t treat cheating like a simple switch. It starts with these harmless POV fantasies, like you jerk off in the office bathroom imagining Lucy on her knees in that cosplay, but the angle is wrong, and then you realize in your head it’s not you she’s looking up at. That little snap in your stomach? The game leans on that. One moment you’re watching a soft lesbian scene between Anna and Lucy, lazy morning tongues and bed hair, and the next you’re rewatching a clip of Lucy “just rehearsing” a group photoshoot concept and suddenly there are extra hands and extra mouths and you can’t tell if it’s real footage or something Anna is imagining over the top of it. It blurs porn and memory. Or maybe I was just horny and overthinking, but it felt like that.

There’s a nice little cruelty in how often it sticks you in first person while everyone else ignores your feelings. You get POV scenes that should feel loving, Lucy riding you slow, ahegao face way too much for a couple that’s “just having a normal night”, and instead of feeling romantic it starts to look like she’s practicing for someone else. Later, when the group sex stuff hits, you kinda recognize moves she did with you, and that stings in a hot way. At one point, there is this cosplay orgy sequence where Anna is half participating, half watching Lucy get passed around, and it plays it almost casual: a tongue between her legs here, someone gripping Lucy’s hair there, your girlfriend moaning another person’s name, and the camera just lingers like it’s your eyes trying not to blink. The lesbian bits are not some side fetish either, they’re the emotional knife. Two women who clearly care about each other, then one of them slowly getting addicted to attention, to cameras, to being used like a prop while the other discovers she likes the idea of her girl as a public toy way too much. It’s messy, horny, a little mean, sometimes too exaggerated with the faces, but in that way where you roll your eyes and still keep clicking because you want to see just how far Lucy will go before Anna snaps, or worse, before Anna starts directing the whole fucked up show herself.