House full of ghosts, but they all look like skinny pretty boys in thigh highs and skirts. That’s the vibe here. You move into this creaky old place after your dad dies, with that weird heavy silence in the walls, and instead of dust and spiders you get these tiny smooth femboys showing up in your room, your shower, your bed, your head. They’re not transparent, they’re not “woo spooky”, they sit on your lap, breathe on your neck, grind on you, but everybody else just walks through them like air. So you’re having this soft yaoi daydream, dick hard, while the neighbor talks about plumbing, and this little crossdressing brat is licking your ear and calling you “onii-chan” even though you’re not related at all and also he’s legally an adult, calm down. The game sort of leans into that mental question: are you losing it, or is this a very specific kind of gay blessing that only you get. And it doesn’t answer. It just smiles at you with another pair of glossy lips and asks if you want to kiss him or make him choke on it.

What I liked is how it swings between horny and kind of sad without warning. One second you’re picking a dialogue option about whether you want to pull his panties aside or make him keep them on while you push inside, the next second he’s asking if you’re scared to end up alone like your dad. The writing is weird, like the dev’s first language was feelings and porn, and English somewhere after that. Some jokes hit, some lines feel like Tumblr from ten years ago glued to Pornhub comments, but it sort of fits. The boys are all petite, flat chests, soft tummies, smooth thighs, and yeah you can tell the art is AI if you stare too long at hands or backgrounds, but honestly I was zooming in on the bulges and the way the skirts ride up when they sit wrong on your face. There’s this one scene on the stairs where your foot clips inside the step a bit, and it drove me insane, like, why that specific angle, why that tiny glitch, I kept thinking about it during a blowjob scene for no reason. Dialog choices actually do matter a little, you can be gentle or trashy, “are you okay?” or “open wider”, and they react in these small ways, shy smile, needy whine, a little blush when you call them “good boy”. Sometimes the pacing drags with too much inner monologue about grief, and then suddenly a petite femboy is riding you raw in your dead dad’s bedroom and moaning your name like it’s a blessing. The whole thing feels like someone’s horny therapy session turned into a visual novel, sloppy at the edges, kind of broken, sometimes really sweet, sometimes just filthy, like when the quiet one sits on your face and pretends you’re not there, “since I’m only in your mind anyway”, while your character is literally gasping into his damp panties. It’s romantic, but also not, but also yes. I don’t know. I clicked every lewd option I could and still felt weirdly soft in the chest after the last route, like I’d just masturbated to my own loneliness in cute thigh highs. In a good way, or maybe not.

Guard uniform, shitty fluorescent lights, that stink of sweat and bleach that almost comes through the screen, and then this guy shows up in your block. Artemis. Wrong kind of pretty for a place like that. Soft face, sharp eyes, mouth that looks like it was made to talk back and suck cock, both. The game just throws you into that fucked up mix of power and attraction without a slow intro, which I liked. You’re already in the role, already the one with the keys, but somehow he feels scarier than the whole cell block. Not scary like monster, scary like "I know exactly what you want and I’m going to make you admit it." The flirting starts way too early to be healthy, way too late to stop, and every line he drops has that vibe where you can’t tell if he’s actually scared or just acting weak so you’ll push harder. And yeah, it’s mostly reading and choosing, but it doesn’t feel dry, because half the time I was alt-tabbing out of sheer secondhand shame, then going right back in like a horny idiot.

The thing that got me is how the game keeps playing chicken with your morals. You get these choices like "do the professional thing" or "maybe just touch him a bit" and it sounds simple, but the writing keeps nudging you, poking at your curiosity, making the “nice” options feel kind of fake. At some point I realised I was picking the worse path just to see how far the dev will go, and it does go pretty far into fucked territory. There is that whole predator vs prey dance, but it flips. You start as the guard, the big man with the baton, but Artemis knows how to tilt his head just a little, sit on the bunk in that half-feminine pose, open his legs too wide, make you aware how easy it would be to hurt him and how much he kind of wants you to. Or pretends to. Hard to tell. That tension is the hot part, not even the actual explicit bits, though those are written with enough dirty detail that I had to stop reading on my phone in public transport after one very specific line about making him kneel on the cold floor of the cell. The world is cruel, the prison is worse, but the horny brain prevails.

It’s pretty dark without the game patting you on the head about it. No big speech about trauma, just little details: the way he flinches when you move too fast, the way other guards talk about inmates like meat, offhand comments about what happens in the showers. It’s messy, morally and sexually, like one of those old yaoi fanfics on LiveJournal that half of us cut our teeth on, only a bit more grown up and kinda meaner. Artemis is that type: slight, almost fragile, but with enough lip to make you want to shut him up by grabbing his neck. He’ll tease you, call you "officer" with this tiny smirk, then suddenly there is this one line where he sounds genuinely terrified and it punches you right in the gut while you still have a hard-on. The choices make you complicit. You can try to be the good guy, but the text never lets you feel clean, and honestly that’s why it sticks. Sex here is power, manipulation, pity, and actual lust all tangled together, not separated into nice categories. If you like your gay prison fantasies soft and wholesome, this is not that. If you always wondered how far a bored, lonely guard might go with a dangerous little femboy inmate who knows exactly what card to play, this thing crawls under your skin, rubs up against every bad impulse, and waits to see which button you press next.

Galactic Athletes feels like someone mashed together the Olympic Games, a horny soap opera, and that one locker room fantasy you never told your therapist about. You play as Finn, a new medic at Thebes Sporting Complex, and on paper his job is to keep all these huge, ripped, very not shy athletes healthy. In practice he spends a lot of time with a tablet in his hand, a hard-on in his pants, and a boss who basically tells him: “Guess who wins, guess who loses, or you’re screwed.” The twist is beautiful in a stupid way: every event ends with the winner fucking the guy who comes last. Gold medal equals top. Last place equals fresh, sweaty bottom. Sports science meets porn logic, and somehow it makes sense while you play.

The whole thing runs like a horny prediction game inside a visual novel. You move through event schedules, medical checkups, locker room talks, post-match “therapy” sessions. Before each event you look at the athletes, listen to their cocky bragging, check their conditions, and try to guess who’s going to take first and who’s going to eat the dust, and then eat something else later. There was this one javelin scene where I totally misread a shy, lanky guy, thought he would choke under pressure, marked him as last. Then he absolutely destroyed the field, turned around with this smug little smile, and later I had to watch him pin a muscle monster to the bench and grind him into it while Finn stands there trying to pretend he’s taking clinical notes. That moment hurt my ego more than it should, but I still rewatched it twice. For “research.” The sex scenes don’t feel like some random gallery you click through. They are chained directly to how you read those guys, how you interpret their bodies, their nerves, their stamina. If you fuck up your predictions, somebody else gets fucked, and not in the way you hoped, which is somehow worse than losing in a normal game. And yeah, it calls itself a league, but the whole setting feels closer to ancient Greek mythology fanfic where Zeus opened a gay gym and never invented clothes. I know Thebes is from Greek tragedies, but here it’s basically a giant sex clinic with running tracks.

What I enjoy most is how the game treats the athletes like horny gods and also idiots at the same time. They are tall, thick-chested, thighs like tree trunks, and there is zero shame about how much attention is on their cocks, their asses, the way sweat sticks to body hair. You get these surprisingly tender moments too, like one sprinter limping in after a bad run, Finn icing his leg, both of them talking about pressure and fear, and then five minutes later the same guy is buck naked, bent over a massage table, groaning while the new league champion pushes in slowly, and Finn is on the side trying to judge if this counts as “recovery protocol.” I wish the game actually punished wrong predictions harder sometimes, like really lock you into awkward pairings and force you to watch your least favorite guy get topped over and over, just to be cruel, but it kind of plays nice with you in a way that doesn’t match how brutal sports can be. Still, you get that nice balance where sometimes you are genuinely reading their psychology, like “he’s too confident, he will blow his load early,” and sometimes you just pick the one whose ass you want to see ruined. It pretends to be about strategy, then laughs and shows you two sweaty men going at it against the wall of the locker room while towels slowly slide off the hooks. It’s all gay, all the time, and proudly so, like old-school bara doujin met a modern queer sports anime and they got very drunk together. I opened it thinking “ok, just some porn with medals,” and somehow ended up caring who makes Champion’s league and who falls into Redemption league hell, which to be honest, is where all the best fucking happens anyway.

War in this game doesn’t feel clean at all. Everything is humming, buzzing, a little wrong, like the whole space station is breathing slow and wet around you. You’re tossed into Alexis’ head right after this lunar mess, and the world around him is all hard metal, cold corridors, alarms that whine in the background while the camera just lingers too long on another guy’s neck, his jaw, the way sweat slides down under the collar of a uniform that’s clearly one size too tight on purpose. It’s funny, because the story pretends to care about strategy meetings and patrol routes and alien intel, but the real action is in those tiny pauses when Osman leans a bit too close, when Evan’s voice drops for no reason, when Leon looks like he wants to punch a wall or kiss it. There’s this low constant echo in the sound design, just a little reverb on footsteps and doors, and somehow it makes every quiet conversation feel like it’s happening in a hidden corner where you’re not supposed to be, but you stay, because of course you stay.

First time you get Alexis alone in the barracks, the game lets you click around useless shit, like his datapad, the locker, the stupid little plant that somehow survived an alien invasion. I spent way too long poking that plant. It wiggles in this pathetic way and doesn’t matter at all, but I kept expecting it to do something horny. It never does. Anyway, the real heat starts when Osman shows up with that lazy grin and sits on the edge of the bed, and the music just drops to this slow, pulsing beat that feels like it’s syncing with your pulse… or lower. There’s no silly fade out when things get explicit. You actually hear belts, zippers, the soft thud of bodies against the mattress, the little breath Alexis sucks in when fingers go somewhere new. The choices here aren’t explained much. You get lines like “Push him further” or “Hold back” and you’re just thrown into it. Sometimes the “gentle” option leads to Alexis getting his throat fucked rough, and the “aggressive” one just turns into a desperate cuddle against a bulkhead after a mission. That messy, not-quite-logical reaction of the game feels actually honest, like sex after trauma isn’t neat or predictable, it’s all over the place.

The sci-fi side is weirdly intimate too. You’re on this ship in the middle of nowhere, “protecting mankind”, but really you’re just watching horny soldiers try to forget everything for a while. A briefing room scene with Leon starts as a boring report about alien movements, then your choice to “reassure him” ends with his hand on your throat, pushing you back into the commander’s chair, the big holographic map of the war flickering calmly while he grinds against you, still half in uniform, half undone, like the galaxy can wait while he ruts. Later with Evan, you’re supposed to be calibrating some scanner, but the game keeps letting your eyes drift down to his crotch, his tailbone, the hint of muscle under the suit. The interface even tilts a bit, like Alexis is losing focus. There’s this one shot where the window shows the dark of space, a slow blue flare of some distant thing, and in front of it you just see their silhouettes, one guy on his knees, the other bracing against the console, sounds of sloppy head mixing with the quiet hum of the ship. It’s hot, but also kind of sad, and then suddenly it’s funny again because a random alert pops and you both have to scramble, dripping, to act like nothing happened. It’s clumsy, horny, sometimes too slow, sometimes it rushes you right into a scene where you’re pressed between two bodies and a cold wall, and none of it feels polished. Which is exactly why it sticks in your mind when you close the browser and realize you still hear that low ship hum in your ears, together with the little broken noises Alexis makes when someone finally pushes him way past what he thought he wanted.

Galactic Athletes: Blue League feels like somebody smashed together horny Olympic games, a trashy boys love manga and that weird fantasy you had in high school showers that you never told anyone about. You play as Finn, this kinda cute medic guy who is supposed to keep all these pumped up jocks healthy and at same time guess who will win and who will lose all the events. Which is already sexy because you are literally paid to stare at their bodies and “evaluate performance”. The game does not even pretend to be subtle. Every competition is basically “who is gonna end on top and who is getting fucked as punishment”, and the story just says it out loud. I like that. No fake moral. You sit there, watching these huge muscle athletes from different planets, checking their stats, listening to their trash talk in the locker room, and in your head you try to decide “ok this one looks cocky as hell, he is definitely the type that needs to be pinned down”. And then sometimes you guess right and the game rewards you with exactly the filthy scene you imagined, and other times it throws you a curveball and the big arrogant guy ends up moaning into the bench instead.

The vibe is very locker room fantasy but in space, full of rival teams, sweaty guys grabbing towels, joking about fucking each other, but then they actually do it. I like how Finn is supposed to be “professional” medic, but every time you open that scene gallery or click on their medical checkups, it is like: bro, you are not fooling anyone. When you check a player after an event you get choices that are normal-sounding on paper, like “inspect leg strain” or “verify flexibility,” but when you click you suddenly have his thigh in your hands and your face way too close to his bulge, and the text just goes full-on explicit. The sex is not soft either, it is very graphic and dirty, with guys talking about how bad they want to pound the loser, or how they love when a champion gets “reminded who owns that ass”. Sometimes the dialogue is kinda cheesy, but I still ended up reading all of it, like re-reading cringe sexts that turn you on anyway. Reminded me of scrolling Hornet and Scruff at the gym, pretending to “just check messages” while staring at all the thick guys doing squats. Also had one of those moments where I paused the game, opened Twitter and typed half a horny tweet about alien rugby tops before chickening out and deleting it. This game does that to you. It fries your brain a bit, in a good way, like when you keep reopening the same nude on Telegram because you “missed a detail” the first six times.