The first thing I noticed was how slow it loads in Chrome compared to Firefox, which is weird, because other VN players always recommend Chrome. But after waiting through that blank white flicker, the title just appears, no fancy menu, and it sort of fits - like someone coded the whole thing in one long night with half a plan and a hard-on. The writing swings between absurdly corny dialogue and tense, breathy pauses that actually made me lean forward. Erza’s route hit harder than I expected; the engine stutters a bit when the transition hits from teasing to naked skin, as if the code itself got flustered. At one point Mirajane just stares at the camera, half-undressed, saying nothing, and it’s unsettling but kind of erotic? My mouse double clicked because I didn’t know whether to keep going or stop and breathe.

There’s too much sound compression, though - headphones exaggerate that low moan into something that buzzes in your skull. I liked the way the text box shakes when you make a rougher choice; you can practically feel the humiliation radiate off the screen, and maybe I’m reading too much into it, but that’s the first time I’ve ever felt genuine shame synced with a save file. The whole guild concept keeps drifting around, promising missions, quests, whatever, but it really just becomes an excuse for swapping scenes of control and surrender, of bodies framed like code samples gone wrong. I wanted to click “Settings” to adjust volume, but instead stumbled into an exhibitionism scene that started before I could move. And it’s messy, nerve-pinching messy - some sprite layer got stuck, half-transparent, hovering over Lucy’s face mid-fellatio, and for once, the glitch worked. Like voyeurism baked into the source.

Mobile version? Don’t even bother - touch controls feel like punishment. Still, there’s something raw in how it refuses to clean itself up. It’s not the kind of polish you expect. It’s more like intimacy leaking through bad optimization. Or maybe that’s me making excuses. I tried capturing a screenshot for a forum thread, but my phone overheated, and now whenever I unlock the screen, I swear I still see Mirajane’s smirk fading into white.

“Tag” is weird in a good way. Like, you think it’s gonna be some cheap dirty clicker where you just mash through the same moans on repeat - but then it throws you into this slow, teasing chase where you’re somehow both the hunter and the idiot running from your own hormones. The idea’s childish if you describe it out loud, but in the game it feels dangerous, like getting caught with your hand somewhere it shouldn’t be. There’s this one early scene, you’re just standing in a park at dusk, and that milf character - yeah, the one with the kind of body that’d break a chair if she sat too fast - glances over her shoulder like she knows exactly what you’re thinking. It’s not “romance.” It’s bait. You try to act all polite, but every dialogue option wants to pull you into trouble.

And the animations? They’re rough in a way that actually sells it. Not polished like a studio thing, more like somebody poured too much passion into a weekend project and forgot to sleep. There’s a voyeuristic edge that sneaks up on you - like, you think you’re in control, then the camera lingers a second too long, your mouse hovers, and suddenly you’re complicit. The game keeps whispering, “you started this.” It’s not even about the sex half the time, it’s about that feeling of being seen wanting it. She bends, pretends not to notice, and yeah, it’s animated but your brain doesn’t care.

I’d give it the unofficial award for “Most Dangerous Public Boner Potential.” Because it’s not safe. Not emotionally, not morally. It makes you feel like a perv and then pats you on the back for admitting it. Weirdly enough, it works better that way. There’s a bug with the dialogue skipping, though - sometimes you miss a line right when she’s saying something filthy and it kills the rhythm. Still, I replayed anyway, just to catch that half-whispered line I missed. Maybe it’s broken. Maybe that’s exactly why it turns me on.

There is this lonely lake house, and the game just throws you inside it with this guy and his brother’s fiancée, and everything feels a little wrong from the first minute. Not in the cheap “boo” way, more like the air is too quiet, the water outside looks too still, and you feel like if you touch the glass you’ll feel something breathe back. I kept thinking about how I’d build a routine on that long wooden pier, the kind where I walk out slowly, heels clicking, fog on the water behind me, and then I just drop the coat and let the silence watch me grind. The game has that same feeling, like the world around them is staring while they do things they really shouldn’t. She walks around in these soft clothes that hang on her big tits and huge ass in a way that says “I’m comfortable” but also “I know you’re looking,” and the camera really loves her curves. Sometimes too much. There’s this shot in the kitchen where she leans over the counter and I swear the whole scene might as well be about her ass only, like the rest of the house stopped existing.

The story pretends to be all about survival, virus, quarantine, blah blah, but the reason I kept clicking was that slow teasing between those two. You see them try to be polite, to keep distance, then the eye contact lingers one second longer than normal, then the accidental brush of bodies, him going to the bathroom and hearing her masturbating inside, trying to control his breathing while she’s quietly moaning and thinking no one hears. That scene hit me hard, because I could picture a routine where I’m behind a thin curtain, only silhouette, hand between my legs, the audience just hearing breath and little wet sounds, never seeing everything until the very end. The game does that with the paranormal stuff too. It doesn’t jump in your face. You get these tiny glitches in reality, something wrong in the lake reflection, a shadow behind a window that should be empty, and by the time you get to the more explicit sex, your brain is already trained to expect something moving in the background. The animated bits go from sensual to almost nasty in a good way, like when she finally rides him and you see her tits bounce heavy and natural, but the light from the lake looks slightly sick, like the water is jealous and watching them fuck.

I liked that it’s basically a straight line story, no choices, no going back, just “you are this horny idiot, deal with it,” even if sometimes it feels a bit like watching a really long TikTok playlist instead of a game. There was one moment where he’s outside at night, flashlight shaking, hearing something in the trees, and all I could think of was how I’d dance with that flashlight in my mouth, body covered in oily sweat, pretending the dark wants to swallow me whole. Then you cut from that to a quiet morning coffee scene and her nipples poking through a thin top and it almost breaks the mood in a clumsy way, like the game forgot it was trying to be horror for a second. But when the lake finally shows its teeth, and they are forced to touch and hold each other for comfort that is absolutely not just comfort, it hits. The cheating angle is dirty as hell, because it never really tries to justify itself. She is scared, he is scared, and fear turns into arousal, then into full vaginal sex on that couch while something unseen scratches on the window. It made me want to do a number where the music keeps cutting out, like something is wrong with the speakers, while I grind on a chair as if I’m fucking a ghost that no one else can see. The only thing that really annoyed me is his stupid walk cycle in a couple scenes, he looks like he is always about to trip over his own dick, and for some reason that distracted me every time. But the mix of house intimacy, lake horror, and that slow, filthy teasing that bursts into raw, wet, animated sex, yeah, that stuck under my skin in a way I wasn’t really ready for.

It’s ridiculous, really - Fry crash-lands among yellow people and the first thing I notice is how the lighting in Moe’s bar makes everyone look like melted butter. That’s not a complaint, by the way, it’s kinda hot. The game starts off pretending to care about Fry’s “mission” or whatever, but everyone knows it’s about catching those awkward glances through half-open doors. You know that guilty thrill when you’re watching something you shouldn’t but can’t stop anyway? That’s the whole mood. I spent too long peeking at Marge cleaning up with that slow, bored face, and boom - there’s a toy lying around that definitely isn’t for cleaning. Then Homer walks in and I swear he stares at it like it owes him money. Anyway. The humor is nasty in a way I didn’t expect: cheap but confident, like it *knows* you’re gonna laugh right before doing something pervy.

It tricks you with “rpg” talk but it’s less about grinding stats and more about grinding, well, you know. One second I’m fiddling with an inventory full of… creative gadgets, next I’m accidentally triggering a voyeur sequence with Shauna and it’s both funny and embarrassingly detailed. The sort of scene you’d alt-tab from if anyone walked by, but also the one you’d think about while pretending to scroll Instagram later. What gets me is how Fry reacts; he’s equal parts idiot and horny philosopher, muttering about destiny while fumbling with something that buzzes. It’s peak absurdity, but somehow it fits this crossover chaos between Futurama and Springfield.

I keep telling myself the “writing” is what I like - the dumb jokes about quantum teleportation and Meg Griffin’s cameo that somehow spirals into a weird morality lesson (don’t ask what kind) - but nah, I’m lying to myself. It’s messy, dumb, sometimes too self-aware, but I don’t stop playing. The sandbox setup means half the fun is doing things out of order just to watch characters react like they remember last night’s mistakes. Sometimes they even mention you. That’s the part that kinda freaked me out. Maybe that’s the point: voyeurism isn’t about watching - it’s about getting caught.