This broke-ass protagonist hits you right in the feels, honestly. Like watching your buddy crash on couches after his life implodes, except this dude's got Disney princesses throwing themselves at him. The setup feels weirdly authentic - kicked out, wallet empty, desperately job hunting in some forgotten town where everyone knows everyone's business. Then boom, suddenly he's surrounded by Elsa wanting to Netflix and chill, Jasmine ditching Aladdin for some quality time, and Belle getting real creative with those library books. The whiplash between realistic struggle and fantasy fulfillment shouldn't work but somehow does? Maybe it's because the writing doesn't pretend this makes sense, just rolls with the absurdity.

What gets me is how they handle the Disney angle without being cringe about it. These aren't just copy-paste characters with new outfits - Pocahontas has actual personality beyond the noble savage trope, Mulan's got that warrior confidence translating into bedroom dominance, and Wednesday Addams brings her signature deadpan humor to some surprisingly kinky scenarios. The visual novel format lets them flesh out personalities between the steamy scenes. Though honestly, some dialogue feels clunky when they're trying too hard to sound modern while keeping character voices recognizable. Rapunzel's dirty talk sounds like she's reading from a script sometimes, but when Ursula starts getting freaky with those tentacles... damn.

The dating sim mechanics feel tacked on rather than integrated - you're mostly clicking through conversations waiting for the good stuff. Which is fine because the good stuff delivers hard. Chel from El Dorado absolutely steals every scene she's in, and the variety keeps things interesting even if some encounters feel rushed. Princess Tiana deserves way more screen time considering how much effort went into her character development. Still scratching my head over why they included Kidagakash from Atlantis - seems random but her scenes are surprisingly hot. Game's definitely not polished but the raw enthusiasm makes up for technical shortcomings.

I don’t even know what I expected when I clicked on *that* thumbnail, but this game’s hotel isn’t a place you walk into - it’s something that kind of swallows you. The first girl greets you with that half-dead sparkle, like she just crawled out of a morgue and straight into your lap, and somehow it works? Her skin’s got that faint blue tint, but when she starts talking dirty, you forget the “zombie” part real quick. There’s this weird rhythm to how the rooms unlock - like the game is teasing you, always dangling another girl behind some invisible counter. You think you’re done after the scientist chick who keeps calling you “specimen,” but then bam, the door slides open and there’s Luna Snow looking like she wandered out of a Marvel crossover fanfic gone horny.

What messes with me is how inconsistent everything feels in the best way. Sometimes it’s tender, sometimes it’s like watching a fever dream where Velma Dinkley is teaching you anatomy lessons you definitely didn’t get in school. The moaning animation syncs up too well with the clicking sound - tiny thing, but once you notice, you can’t unhear it. And don’t get me started on the hotel lobby music, which sounds like someone mixed elevator jazz with funeral bells; somehow it fits when a zombie nurse is giving you a handjob that looks way too professional. The cum-as-currency idea? Ridiculous, yet satisfying. It’s like capitalism finally found its true form. I kinda hate how much I laughed at myself keeping score like a finance bro.

There’s one glitch that drives me nuts: sometimes the girls’ eyes freeze mid-blowjob, like you’ve offended them spiritually, but maybe that’s the point? Half the charm is that it doesn’t apologize for being messy. The writing swings from cheesy one-liners to genuinely filthy pillow talk that catches you off guard. You’ll finish one scene thinking, “Okay, that’s enough,” and five minutes later you’re unlocking Katara doing something that’d make Nickelodeon lawyers cry. It’s a trainwreck in a silk robe, and I mean that as a compliment.