What's new

A few photographs go up on a rail with their years torn off — moments in history, landmarks, artworks, or sports, music and screen stars. Chat types the tile numbers oldest to newest; the first exact order wins, and the prints slide into place and get their years stamped on. Closer years pay more, a wrong order costs a strike and tells you how many you had in the right spot, and your room isn't dealt a photo it has already put in order.

Each regular's whole repost tab now counts, not just the first page. A room that could field a few hundred rounds can field thousands, and repeats get rarer.

During a round the top three sit in a strip along the bottom next to the round counter, and the full board takes the cast's space once the answer is out. Before, the board and the cast fought for the same rail and the bottom rows were cut off.

A TikTok video goes up — one that somebody who plays in your room actually reposted. The creator who made it is shown; the regular who reposted it is not, and chat races to name them. The answers are your own regulars, so the game gets better the longer people have been showing up. Whoever reposted the video sits their own round out by default, since they already know — there's a setting if your room would rather they shouted their own name.

If you use the Stream layout — the one with the camera sidebar — your capture URL was being shifted sideways by the width of that sidebar, with no sidebar in it. The camera was correctly left out of the capture; the gap it normally sits in wasn't. It only showed up in TikTok Studio, because its built-in browser shares your normal browser's settings and picked up your layout choice, while an OBS browser source starts fresh and never did. Fixed at the source: the gap now appears only where the sidebar itself does.

New setup option — "Who extends the clip". Auto is the old behaviour, now on a shorter beat. Manual holds on every step until you press Extend clip, so you can read the guesses out, take a bid, or just let the pause sit. The stage tells you it's waiting on you. Gifts still bump the staircase either way. The clip lengths changed too: 1 → 2 → 4 → 7 → 11 → 16s instead of 1 → 2 → 4 → 8 → 16 → 30. Because the clip resumes rather than restarting, the old ladder gave you about a second of new music on each of the first two presses and then fourteen seconds in one go at the end. Now every press adds a little more than the last, and the reveal still plays the whole track.

The photo bank goes from 330 subjects to 522, weighted at the albums that were running thin — Pop culture nearly doubles, Historical figures and Science both go up by two-thirds, and Landmarks gains 27. Combined with the deck memory below, Mixed now runs about 52 sessions before a photo comes round again, and the smallest album about five. Everything new is free-licensed and credited on the reveal, same as before.

The photo deck now remembers what your room has already been shown. Before this it was reshuffled from scratch every session, so a host running the default ten photos hit their first repeat in the third stream — and on a single album, the second. A repeat photo isn't an easier round, it's a dead one: the room recognises the whole frame in half a second. Mixed now runs about 33 sessions before anything comes back around.

Every Party game that puts chat's own words or drawings on your stage now has a stop button. In Never Have I Ever, Most Likely To and Would You Rather it's "Bin this prompt": the round goes away with no reveal, nothing in the recap, and whoever wrote it doesn't get the pen again for the rest of the session — including any they'd already bought with a gift. Chatvas has the same thing for the canvas. Before this the only way past something you didn't want on screen was to reveal it first, which is exactly backwards.

Draw-and-guess with the pen handed to your room. Everyone who joins the lobby is in the artist pool; you pick one from your controls, they open your companion page and get a secret word only they can see. Their strokes land on your stage live while everyone else races to name it in the comments — with the last few guesses floating over the artist's canvas so they can steer. No timers unless you set one: you call every beat, so nobody plays rushed.

Scattergories for a live chat. A letter is dealt and a list of categories goes up; everyone fills their own sheet in secret — in chat or on your companion page — and nothing is revealed until the round closes. Then the scoring turns it into an argument: an answer only scores if you're the ONLY one who wrote it, so the obvious one is worth nothing and the room can challenge anything that looks like a stretch. Majority rules on the challenge, and you can gavel it early.

Every Party game with a prompt deck — Never Have I Ever, Most Likely To, Would You Rather — can now hand the pen to chat. Set "Who writes them" to chat and the game picks a random chatter before each round and gives them 35 seconds to type it; it goes up with their name underneath, exactly like a gifted one. Only people who have actually played are eligible, the pen rotates to somebody new before it repeats, and if they don't deliver the deck's own card plays on time — the round never waits on one person. There's an Alternate setting too, for deck, chat, deck, chat.

Two options, one impossible choice — and then an argument. Chat picks a side with a or b, the room splits, and the floor opens: one chatter from each side takes a podium and their messages go up as the case for it. The vote stays OPEN the whole time, so the round isn't won by the bigger side, it's won by the side that changes minds. A ghost marker on the bar shows where the room started and every defector's face walks across the divider, so you can see the swing without reading a number. A gift buys you your own side's podium, another buys you the next question. Third game in the Party category.

Never Have I Ever asked chat about themselves. This one asks them about each other. A prompt goes up — "most likely to start a cult accidentally" — and the room nominates by @username while the tally races on screen. The biggest bar takes the crown, and the crowned chatter gets the mic to defend themselves while everyone else types (t)rue or (f)alse and the bar moves under them. A gift buys immunity for a round (it clears votes already cast on you), another buys the right to write the next prompt, and the night ends with roles — Most Wanted, The Prosecutor, The Untouchable — instead of a scoreboard. Second game in the Party category.

A confession goes up, chat types !have or !never, and every voter's avatar walks to their side of the stage — live, with the whole room watching the split form. No points and no winners: after the reveal, someone from the minority takes the hot seat to tell the story (a gift lets the sender pick who, and !pass always works), and the night ends with roles — The Menace, The Saint — instead of a scoreboard. First game in the new Party category, alongside Read the Room.

A half-typed search sits in the box and chat races to finish it the way the internet actually did. The hidden completions rank like autocomplete — the obvious one is worth the least — close phrasings land on the same row, and your biggest gifts can claim a row outright. Family Feud rules in search-results clothing.

Platinum and Silver were near-identical at the size an avatar actually renders, so the rings above Gold blurred together. Platinum is gone and the tiers above it moved down: Diamond now lands at 100 wins and Legend at 200, down from 500. Nobody dropped a rank — everyone who had Platinum is Diamond, and long-standing regulars who were never going to reach 500 now have a top rung in sight.

Every game now has proper instructions instead of three lines: what chat literally types, the near-misses that silently don't count, and the bits your own settings change. There's a Rules button while you play — opening it pauses the game so you can answer "why didn't my word count?" without the round running out behind you.

A mini-game used to jump straight from playing to the scoreboard, so the Chatexto word, the final ladder and every answer key vanished before anyone saw them. The break between rounds now replays the game's own result screen above the scores.

Moments accepted any word of a name, so shouting "great" won eight different photos and "franklin" could take the wrong person entirely — while Ali, Poe, Big Ben and accented names were rejected outright. Rank Rush's Instagram and YouTube boards had a stray row from the source table sitting at number one that nobody could ever claim, so those boards could never be cleared.

Some games showed how fast chat answered as "8423ms" and others as "8.4s". It's seconds everywhere now.

Pin a comment on TikTok — the rules, the current question, a viewer's answer — and it now sticks to the top of the chat panel here too, instead of scrolling away with everything else.

Gifts used to look exactly like a comment, so the thing you most want to catch mid-game was the easiest to miss. They're cards now, with the gift's own art, the sender and the total diamonds.

Chatexto's closest guess stopped sliding backwards to a worse word on long rounds. Community Feud no longer declares "no survivors" when somebody clearly won. Long achievement and milestone names wrap on the results screen instead of being cut off, and starting a session no longer flashes "streamer is not supported" before it works.

The join lobby is off by default now — press Start and chat plays. Turn it back on per game if you want the roster to fill first.

Rank Rush and A Moment in Time can now be drawn in a Match. The host's End game button also stopped hanging on multi-round mini-games — it used to end one round and leave the match stuck.

Starting another round of the same game reuses the session you're already in rather than tearing it down and building a new one, so chat stays connected and the next game is up immediately.

Social-account boards accept people's real names, not just their handles — "cristiano ronaldo" takes @cristiano. Long boards scroll to the full list instead of stopping at the top ten, and a ticker names each claim as it lands so chat can see who took what.

A photo album for your stream — a moment from history, a landmark, or a face fills the page, and chat races to name it. The year and the story ink in on the reveal, so every round teaches the photo it just showed.

A whole category goes up — every state, every element — ranked by something nobody can see. Chat races to claim names; first to call one takes it, and the biggest pays the most. Once the famous ones are gone, the points are in the middle of the ordering.

No card, no billing info — sign in and play. The launcher shows how many free games you have left, and only finished games count: abandoned lobbies and test runs are free forever.

Games can't start until your stream chat is connected, but the shelf used to look completely normal and just ignore your taps. Locked games now show a lock, the reason sits right above the shelf with a Reconnect button, and tapping one tells you what it needs.

What's new is now a section in the launcher nav, so you can catch up any time instead of only when the banner appears — a dot marks notes you haven't read. The section row itself also stopped cutting labels in half on phones and now keeps the section you're on in view.

The stream sidebar now follows your saved streaming handle (not your login) and says when the stream is offline instead of freezing quietly. The launcher pill notices a stream ending within seconds, and the status page stopped reporting outages nobody had.

Words now always read forwards — backwards finds rewarded guess-spam over sharp eyes. Hosts get reveal and next-round controls, and the finder's avatar no longer covers the first letter of a claimed word.

Settings trimmed from 14 to 9, a randomised Mixed pool is the new default, landmark rounds landed, scoring is shown on stage, and the finish screen was rebuilt.

Run a game night on a single stream — one room, one roster, back-to-back games.

Every opening clue was rewritten to be guessable-but-not-instant, and three new categories joined the pool.

A mall-concourse stage identity, and logos that spelled out their own answer are gone from the pool.

A letter board goes up and chat races to call the hidden words — themed boards, crossing capsules, double points for long finds.

Recall now runs on your actual TikTok sticker set by default — chat replies by sending the matching sticker back through TikTok's own picker, not by typing.

The word goes up on stage for everyone except you. Chat's job is to talk you onto it without saying it, yours is to guess out loud, and the clock is running the whole time. It's the one game where the host is the player and the room is the puzzle — and it reads on a clip better than anything else on the shelf, because the funny part is you being wrong.