#chat web application

[lookwhatyoumademelou]

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[elixentblog]

Elixent Technologies Pvt Ltd specializes in mobile and web app development, including chat apps, service platforms, and SDK solutions. With over 6 years of experience, we deliver innovative and scalable digital solutions.

[kpissolution]

Do you want to present simulated environments for your users within a defined budget? Or learn more about the trends and technologies of virtual reality (VR) app development in 2025. If yes, then you on the right place. KPIS Pvt. Ltd. is the leading Virtual Reality (VR) app development company in India, to help your business with future-ready success with our customized solutions. Our team of VR app developers always integrates their expertise and hands-on experience for customized solutions. So, that you get market-focussed and best-in-class mobile and web applications. Moreover, we present customized VR development services that meet your business needs and customize solutions.

[ourenterprises]

Boldy post to the public Forum with the luxury of being anonymous. enjoy my latest creation

[robomad]

Building a Chat Application with Node.js

Building a Real-Time Chat Application with Node.js

Introduction Chat applications have become a staple in modern web applications, providing real-time communication between users. Node.js, with its non-blocking I/O and event-driven architecture, is an excellent choice for building chat applications. In this guide, we will walk through the process of building a simple chat application using Node.js, Express, and Socket.io. Overview We will…

[excellisit]

Building Chat Applications with Laravel Echo: A Guide to Real-Time Interactivity

In the ever-evolving landscape of web development, the demand for real-time communication features has surged, giving rise to the need for robust and efficient solutions. Laravel Echo, a powerful tool integrated into the Laravel framework, emerges as a key player in facilitating real-time interactions, particularly in the realm of chat applications. A leading web development company in Kolkata provides professional services on building chat applications with Laravel Echo. 

In this comprehensive guide, we'll explore the fundamentals of Laravel Echo, its integration with Laravel Broadcasting, and how developers can leverage this dynamic duo to build engaging and responsive chat applications.

Understanding Laravel Echo and Broadcasting

Laravel Echo: The Voice of Real-Time Web Applications

Introduction to Laravel Echo:

Laravel Echo is a JavaScript library that simplifies the implementation of real-time features in web applications. It serves as the bridge between your Laravel back end and the front end, allowing seamless communication and data synchronization.

Features and Benefits:

Event Listening: Laravel Echo enables the listening for specific events broadcasted by the server, such as new messages or user updates.

Broadcasting Channels: It provides a straightforward way to subscribe to and broadcast events on channels, facilitating organized communication.

WebSocket Integration: Laravel Echo seamlessly integrates with WebSocket protocols, ensuring low-latency, real-time updates.

Laravel Broadcasting: Broadcasting Events to Multiple Clients

Introduction to Laravel Broadcasting:

Laravel Broadcasting is the Laravel framework's built-in solution for real-time event broadcasting. It utilizes various broadcasting drivers, including Pusher, Redis, and more, to broadcast events to multiple clients simultaneously.

Event Broadcasting Workflow:

Event Creation: Define events that should trigger real-time communication, such as a new chat message or user activity.

Event Broadcasting: Laravel Broadcasting broadcasts these events to subscribed clients through a selected broadcasting driver.

Client-Side Listening: Laravel Echo on the client side listens for these events, triggering actions based on the received data.

Building a Real-Time Chat Application with Laravel Echo

Unveiling the synergy of Laravel Echo and Laravel Broadcasting, this guide empowers developers to craft engaging chat experiences that transcend traditional communication boundaries. 

From setting up real-time events to implementing presence channels and optimizing the chat interface, join us in exploring the intricacies of Laravel Echo as we bring the immediacy of real-time interactions to the forefront of web development.

Setting Up Laravel Broadcasting: 

Installation and Configuration

Install Laravel Echo and a broadcasting driver of your choice (e.g., Pusher, Redis).

Configure Laravel to use the chosen broadcasting driver in the broadcasting.php configuration file.

Creating Chat Events

Event Creation:

Generate an event class for chat messages using the php artisan make:event command.

Define the necessary properties within the event class, such as the sender, message content, and timestamp.

Broadcasting the Event:

Implement the ShouldBroadcast interface in the event class to indicate that it should be broadcast.

Laravel automatically handles broadcasting the event when triggered.

Broadcasting Chat Messages

Server-Side Broadcasting:

When a new chat message is created, broadcast the chat event using Laravel's event system.

Laravel Broadcasting takes care of pushing the event data to the selected broadcasting driver.

Client-Side Listening:

On the client side, use Laravel Echo to listen for the chat event.

Define actions to take when the event is received, such as updating the chat interface with the new message.

Implementing Presence Channels

Introduction to Presence Channels:

Presence channels in Laravel allow you to track the presence of users in real-time.

Useful for displaying online users, typing indicators, or other presence-related features in a chat application.

Setting Up Presence Channels:

Define presence channels in Laravel Echo and configure the back end to authorize users to join these channels.

Update the front end to display real-time presence information.

Optimizing and Enhancing the Chat Experience

Discover how to seamlessly integrate real-time features, implement presence channels, and employ innovative strategies. It helps developers create a dynamic and immersive chat environment that goes beyond conventional expectations, providing users with an enriched and interactive communication experience.

Authentication and Authorization

User Authentication:

Authenticate users within your Laravel application.

Laravel Echo automatically binds the authenticated user's ID to the broadcasted events.

Authorization for Channels:

Implement channel authorization to ensure that users can only access channels they are authorized to join.

Laravel Echo provides mechanisms to handle this authorization seamlessly.

Implementing Typing Indicators

Real-Time Typing Notifications:

Extend the chat application by implementing real-time typing indicators.

Broadcast typing events when users start or stop typing, updating the interface for all connected users.

Storing and Retrieving Chat History

Database Integration:

Store chat messages in the database to ensure persistence and enable retrieval of chat history.

Implement methods to fetch and display chat history on the client side.

Security Considerations

Secure Broadcasting:

Implement secure practices, such as using HTTPS and securing broadcasting channels, to ensure the confidentiality and integrity of transmitted data.

Data Validation:

Implement robust validation for incoming chat messages to prevent security vulnerabilities.

Conclusion: Elevating Interactivity with Laravel Echo

In conclusion, Laravel Echo emerges as a game-changer for developers seeking to enhance their web applications with real-time interactivity. Whether you're building a chat application, collaborative tools, or live update features, Laravel Echo, in tandem with Laravel Broadcasting, provides a seamless and efficient solution. By following the outlined steps and considerations, developers can empower their applications with the dynamic responsiveness users crave in today's digital landscape. A leading web development company in Kolkata also helps build chat applications with Laravel Echo. Laravel Echo opens the door to a new era of user engagement, where real-time communication is not just a feature but a cornerstone of modern web development.

[ranidspace]

there's a lot of fear mongering around the new firefox terms of service and privacy policy and most of all of it is bullshit and, just fear mongering. One thing that is concerning however is the following:

Your use of Firefox must follow Mozilla’s Acceptable Use Policy, and you agree that you will not use Firefox to infringe anyone’s rights or violate any applicable laws or regulations.

Before this would only apply to mozilla services such as the matrix chat, firefox send (rip), the vpn, or whatever, but now they are saying it is applied to the browser as well.

And one of the things you shouldn't do according to the policy is, you guessed it:

Upload, download, transmit, display, or grant access to content that includes graphic depictions of sexuality or violence

So mozilla (perhaps accidentally, companies love to do this but also mozilla is kind of stupid), just said you cannot use firefox to browse porn. If it is intentional and they double down on this (which I'm really not sure if they even can, firefox is a program running locally on your computer, it's not a service they can just ban you from or anything like that, again, mozilla is a bit stupid), it's not a reason to use chromium. In the terms of service they also write:

These Terms only apply to the Executable Code version of Firefox, not the Firefox source code.

"the Executable Code" is vague, like does it count if you build it locally on your computer, or is it just the mozilla packaged versions of it downloaded from official sources or whatever idk.

But i think it would make sense forks don't count as the terms apply to "Firefox" and not anything else. So here's some alternative browsers which aren't firefox, but are firefox based:

Librewolf: just firefox, all the crap removed, and lots of privacy features turned on as well. Google is disabled in the search bar, but you can enable it again with a bit of a hack, and by default, history and cookies is cleared when you close it. You can turn that off easily. Basically identical to regular firefox otherwise, it's what i'm currently using.

Zen: Very new but gaining popularity quickly. kind of buggy due to it's recency, but people seem to love it. Main focus is customization, but with improvements in privacy, and speed. Pretty different from other browsers, but that might be what you want.

thats. basically the main two rn. i dont think anything else really would be good for most people and even as someone who really likes to get into things deep with privacy and security and shit i think librewolf is just fine. there's lot of other options but they're kinda all in the categories that these two cover.

While nowhere near in a state to be used as a regular browser, i would keep your eyes on Ladybird which is undergoing the insane challenge of making a web browser from scratch; it's not based on chromium or firefox. The first alpha version is projected to come out next year and it seems very promising.

[artfight]

If you have ever wanted to help out Art Fight, now is your chance because staff applications have opened once again! Make sure to read over the applications and contact us if you have any questions.

Chat and Site Mods are currently an unpaid volunteer position. You must be 18+ to apply, and have participated in at least one Art Fight. You can learn more about this position here: https://artfight.net/info/volunteer

Web Developers are a paid position. You must be 20+ to apply. You can learn more about this position here: https://artfight.net/news/85.dec-art-fight-update-theme-poll-developer-apps-etc

Unfortunately, we are not able to notify applicants who have been rejected due to the number of applications we receive.

[chow0w]

Redesigning a Winglet - part 5/7

Happy Wednesday, as always! the victim of today is Cordelia!

This design is certainly more expressive than some of the other ones, but unfortunately this winglet already seems to have a lot of angry types. For the sake of the redesign, I thought it would be nice to completely revamp this character!

First, I decided to make her trans. Why? Doesn't matter. Second, I needed to replace the name 'Cordelia,' since that's my girlfriend's character... I looked at a few different fish species names, but decided on 'bigfin' after my favorite squid in the end. Since the bigfin squid is a deep sea creature, it seemed cool to give them deep sea attributes - but I thought about it some more and honestly there would be a lot of difficulties adjusting to life at jade mountain after being raised in such a high-pressure, low light environment. Deep-seawings are so cool, but putting them in jade mountain seems a little unethical.

Moving on - the biggest changes I made to Bigfin were definitely adding/removing some design elements, such as webs and markings (so like basic seawing features.) I also changed her expression! It now rests much more neutrally - I it could be interpreted as slightly serious or just observational, depending on the person. I was hoping to replace the angry personality with a more motivated/optimistic kind of demeanor. I imagine Bigfin is probably one of the more easygoing members of the winglet - not out of ignorance or naivety, but trust in her ability to navigate the challenges to come. She would get along best with Arrow-Arum and (surprisingly) Ficus, while thinking Startalon is too pessimistic and Saguaro is too... intense.

Bigfin would be a good teammate during stressful, quick situations - but her logic may sometimes be unhelpful in a longer, more strategic discussion. She has all the optimism and confidence in herself, but can sometimes lack in the planning needed to follow through...

Overall, she's an excellent addition to her winglet!

Thanks for checking in this Wednesday! I hope to see you all soon - and to anyone who doesn't know, I am hosting an art competition right now! There's just over a month left to enter: so if you're an artist who likes free money and fun times, you might want to se this!

Here's my server, where you can submit an application:

we're also chatting it up in here, so feel free to stick around and play wordle (≧◡≦) later!!

[clovenhooves-dot-org]

about cloven hooves

clovenhooves.org is a forum for feminist women. It was created in order to give women a place to promote woman-centered news; share feminist resources; and learn, discuss, and chat with one another. clovenhooves aims to be an expansion of the feminist and woman-centered web, alongside places like ovarit.com, spinster.xyz, radblr, r/fourthwavewomen, and other feminist/pro-woman online communities.

There is an application process to join, this is intended to keep trolls and bad faith actors at bay. You can read about the process in this post if you are interested in joining.

Updates on the forum are posted on this Tumblr blog. Feel free to send asks or direct message this blog for any questions, comments, suggestions, and so on. 💜

[vandme12]

Cereal Cannibal - Misaki x Seung-min Kim G.N Reader

WORDS : 7000

PROMPT : FALLING FOR YOU

CHARACTER USED : Misaki from Killer Chat!

INSPIRATION FROM : Seung-min Kim from My Sweet! Housemate!

SUMMARY : Misaki gets a new house, with a housemate, who's their landlord, who's also a cannibal

Misaki sat on the cold, metal floor of their bunker, staring at the last few bills in their hand. It wasn’t enough. Not even close. The place they had been calling home was no longer an option—issues with the owner, debts piling up, and now, they were being forced out. It sucked. Hard.

They had no choice but to leave.

“You should check out the deep web listings,” Ronin suggested, leaning back against the worn-out couch that Misaki had scavenged months ago.

Angel scoffed. “That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

V, ever the practical one, just shrugged. “It’s not the worst idea. There are some surprisingly legit places there. Just be careful.”

Misaki groaned, running a hand through their short, messy hair. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

Their friends didn’t say anything, and the silence was answer enough.

So Misaki did what they had to do. Digging through the deep web, they scrolled past one shady listing after another until they stumbled upon an absurdly cheap offer—1,000 yen rent. The catch? They had to live with their landlord.

“Well,” they muttered to themselves, “I’ve dealt with worse.”

With a deep breath, they sent in their application. It wasn’t long before they got a response—approved.

Misaki sat cross-legged on the cold, metal floor of their bunker, hands clasped together as they muttered an impromptu prayer. “Listen, God, I know I haven’t been the best person—kinda kill people for a living, but, uh, desperate times. If you could just let this rent application go through, I swear I’ll… I don’t know, maybe stop calling Angel cannibal?”

“Liar,” Angel deadpanned

“Okay, okay. I’ll just do less.”

Ronin rolled their eyes. “You’re praying to God for a shady deep web apartment?”

“Hey, I’m broke, desperate, and out of options. Divine intervention is my last hope.”

V, raised a brow. “Or, you know, common sense.”

Before Misaki could snap back with a sarcastic remark, their laptop chimed with a notification. Their heart pounded as they scrambled to check their email. They half-expected a rejection, a scam link, or some weird cryptic message about selling their soul. But instead, there it was:

“Come on, come on,” they muttered under their breath, bouncing their leg impatiently.

Ding!

Their email refreshed, and there it was—a response.

“APPROVED.”

Misaki blinked. That was… fast. Almost too fast. Shouldn’t there have been, like, an entire government-level interrogation? A credit check? A deep dive into their very questionable employment history? Instead, it was just a short email.

They clicked it open, and their eyes skimmed over the entire terms and conditions.

All ten lines.

If you like the house, come to the address and check it out.

I’ll give you a copy of the key.

Consider yourself my roommate/housemate if you stay.

Pay rent on time, or at least try.

Don’t break my stuff.

If you see anything weird, ignore it.

Seriously, don’t ask questions.

The basement is off-limits.

No loud noises after midnight.

Welcome home! 😊

Misaki reread the email three times before looking up at their friends. “This is either the best or the worst decision of my life.”

Ronin “That’s it? I’ve seen more rules on the back of a cereal box.”

Message: Hey, if you like the house, come to the address and check it out. I’ll give you a copy of the key, and boom, you’re my roommate/housemate. See ya soon. – Landlord

“…That’s it?” Misaki blinked.

Angel talked. “Where’s the absurdly long lease agreement? The blood pact? The firstborn child sacrifice clause?”

V looked unimpressed. “I was at least expecting a ‘terms and conditions may apply.’”

Ronin whistled. “Honestly, that’s the most efficient rental process I’ve ever seen.”

Misaki reread the email, waiting for some hidden attachment or fine print, but nope. That was the whole thing. “They didn’t even do a background check.”

Angel smirked. “That’s probably a good thing for you.”

“Fair.”

Misaki took a deep breath, looking at their friends. “Alright, I guess I’m moving in. If I disappear, avenge me.”

“Absolutely not,” V said immediately. “You did this to yourself.”

Ronin told “Just make sure to check the bathroom for hidden cameras before you settle in.”

Angel smirked. “And if your new landlord asks if you’re allergic to anything, lie.”

“Gee, thanks for the support.”

They zipped up their bag, they felt the tiniest bit of apprehension creep in. Something about this felt too easy. Too convenient.

But then again, their life had never been easy or convenient, so maybe they were just due for a win.

Or, you know, an absolute disaster.

Either way, it was too late to back out now.

Misaki just grinned. “You say that like I don’t already regret every decision I’ve ever made.”

Angel smacked the back of their head. “That is NOT how that works.”

“Whatever, I’m taking the deal.” Misaki pumped their fists in the air. “I HAVE A HOME! SUCK IT, CAPITALISM!”

Ronin, Angel, and V just stared at them.

V sighed. “You’re gonna die.”

“Probably,” Misaki admitted. “But at least I’ll die with cheap rent.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Misaki closed their laptop and started packing their things—which wasn’t much. A duffel bag of clothes, some weapons, a few stolen snacks (for the road), and a single, slightly worn-out plushie that they definitely didn’t sleep with every night.

Misaki strutted through the dimly lit streets of Japan like an absolute chad. Sure, the economy was in the gutter, they were drowning in debt, and they were about to move into a suspiciously cheap apartment that might very well be a front for organ trafficking, but hey—positivity!

"It's fine. Everything's fine," they muttered to themselves, adjusting their duffel bag. "You just gotta impress the housemate, win their heart, and boom—temporary stability. Easy."

They clenched their fist in determination. This was just another mission. Instead of taking someone out, they were trying to not get kicked out. Same skill set, really.

After a long walk filled with self-pep talks and avoiding eye contact with salarymen crying into their vending machine coffee, Misaki finally arrived at the address.

The house looked… normal. Suspiciously normal. The kind of normal that felt wrong in their chaotic existence.

Taking a deep breath, Misaki knocked on the door. No answer. They rang the doorbell. Still nothing.

Then they noticed the door was slightly open.

"Oh, yeah, no red flags here at all," they muttered sarcastically before pushing it open.

"Uh, hello?" Misaki called out, stepping inside.

And that’s when they saw you.

Standing there in the dim light, you looked like a husk of a human being. Your overgrown bangs drooped over your face in a messy, unintentional crossover pattern, like they were actively trying to hide the shame of existence. There was a slight, tragic wave to them—like your hair had once had hope but had long since given up.

Your grey-teal, slightly droopy straight eyes had the kind of dark circles that could only be achieved through years of sleep deprivation, existential dread, and an overwhelming hatred for your job. You were in office wear—a dull, slightly wrinkled suit, tie barely hanging on like your will to live.

Misaki immediately clocked you as a salesperson.

And, oh boy, you looked hideous.

Not in a way that was physically repulsive, but in a way that screamed "I have seen things. I have suffered. And I will suffer again tomorrow from 9 to 5."

Your posture was the physical embodiment of why am I here?, and the way your dead-fish eyes met Misaki’s? Pure, undiluted regret.

There was a long, painful silence.

Misaki blinked.

You blinked.

Misaki cleared their throat. "Sooo… you're the landlord?"

You exhaled through your nose. "I wish I wasn’t."

"Uh-huh." Misaki glanced around. "Cool, cool. Great energy in here."

You gestured vaguely behind you. "Rooms that way. Rent’s due whenever. Don’t break anything. Don’t wake me up. If you summon a demon, tell it to kill me first."

Misaki nodded slowly. "...Love the enthusiasm."

Misaki had a problem.

Not just the broke assassin in crippling debt problem. Not just the this house is suspiciously cheap and my landlord looks like a walking depression commercial problem. No.

They had a problem in a new environment problem.

Which meant they were everywhere in the house within the first five minutes.

First, they tried to unpack, but then they got distracted by a weird stain on the wall that looked like blood (was it blood?), then they decided to check the kitchen because snacks, but then they opened a drawer and immediately forgot why they were even there. Then they somehow ended up in the hallway, staring at a random light switch, flicking it on and off just to see what it did.

Then—CRASH.

A shelf. A whole goddamn shelf. How? How?! It wasn’t even their shelf!

They just stood there, frozen, processing the fact that in five minutes, they had somehow committed their first property damage offense in the new house.

That’s when you walked in.

Dead-eyed. Drained. Like a husk of a man who had just worked a 16-hour shift selling printer ink to people who wanted to die just as much as you did. Your tie was loose like you had considered strangling yourself with it earlier but then sighed and went, not today, maybe tomorrow. Your bangs were a mess—probably hadn’t seen scissors in over a year. Your dark circles were so deep they looked like they were sponsored by a horror movie franchise.

You saw the shelf. You saw Misaki. You sighed. Deeply.

Then, in the most exhausted voice known to humankind, you muttered, "It's fine."

Misaki squinted. "…Wait, seriously?"

You blinked slowly, rubbing your eyes as if you had aged 40 years in the past 40 seconds. "Yeah. Whatever. I'll fix it later. It's fine."

That was when Misaki realized something horrifying.

You were so goddamn tired that you had transcended anger. You had seen so much bullshit in your life that a random destroying your furniture on day one didn’t even faze you.

They felt guilty. Misaki never felt guilty. They were a menace by nature. But you… You looked so damn miserable that it physically hurt them.

They tried to lighten the mood. “Uh, sorry about the—uh, shelf thing. But! Hey! At least I didn't burn the house down?”

You stared at them. Just stared.

They shifted awkwardly. “I mean, technically, I could have! That’s improvement, right?”

Silence.

Then you muttered, "Hello, Misaki."

Misaki blinked. “Oh, uh, actually, my name’s not Misaki, it’s—”

They paused, realizing their mistake.

Then, dramatically, throwing their arms out, they corrected themselves.

"MISAKI!"

There was a long pause. You just stared. The kind of stare that screamed ‘I am too tired for this but I will endure.’

Misaki waited for you to react. Maybe a sigh? A head shake? A single sign of life?

But you just closed your eyes for a moment, like you were mentally preparing yourself to deal with them for the foreseeable future.

And when you reopened them, you still looked exhausted. Still looked like you hated your job, your life, everything.

And Misaki—chaotic, impulsive, disaster of a person—felt something they rarely ever felt.

Pity.

You rubbed your temples, trying to fight off the migraine that had been steadily building for the last—what, three years? Maybe longer? Time was a blur when you lived in a constant state of exhaustion.

Misaki had already caused minor property damage. You should care. You should be concerned. But instead, you were just so damn tired.

With a sigh, you trudged over to the small, cluttered table in the living room, grabbed a stack of papers, and slapped them down in front of them. "Contract’s here. If you like the place, sign it. If not, you can leave and go back to… whatever questionable living situation you came from."

Misaki blinked. “That’s it? No interrogation? No ‘I need your government ID’ or ‘sign away your soul’ clause?”

You sighed again. Deeply. “Rent is 1,000 yen. I don’t care when you pay it. Just… get it to me eventually.”

They stared at you. Hard.

You could tell they were waiting for you to drop some sort of catch, some hidden clause that would reveal this was actually a scam or a murder plot. But there was nothing. Just you, standing there in your wrinkled office wear, looking like you’d rather be anywhere else.

They slowly pointed at you. “Why… aren’t you asking any additional details? Like my job? Or my background?”

You shrugged. “I don’t care.”

That seemed to stun them. They just stood there, processing the sheer lack of effort you were putting into this situation.

You checked the time on your watch. Your shift started in ten minutes. You were already late. Your boss was probably foaming at the mouth waiting to scream at you, but honestly? You had stopped caring about that job ages ago.

Still, you needed it to pay for this miserable excuse of an apartment.

You ran a hand down your face and muttered to yourself, "God, I need a new job."

Misaki tilted their head. “You work sales, right?”

You scoffed. Bitterly. “If you can even call it that.”

Your voice turned dull and lifeless as you mocked yourself. “Hello, sir, would you be interested in our limited-time printer ink bundle? No? That’s okay, let me waste five more minutes of your time explaining a warranty that you’ll never use. Oh, you’re walking away? I see. I am but a worm beneath your shoe. I exist to suffer. Thank you for your time.”

Misaki blinked. Twice.

You exhaled sharply and rubbed your eyes. “I swear, if I stay here one more minute, I’m going to get fired.”

They stared at you. Hard.

Then, with zero hesitation, they said, "I wanna stay."

You blinked at them. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“You just got here.”

“Yep.”

“The shelf thing just happened.”

“Uh-huh.”

You exhaled through your nose. “You’re a very eager one, huh?”

Misaki shrugged. “Look, you’re tired, I’m tired, and this place is cheap. Seems like a win for both of us.”

You didn’t argue. You just reached for the contract, flipped it to the signature page, and handed them a pen. “Fine. Sign here.”

Misaki took the pen with an enthusiastic nod and scrawled their name in an exaggerated, dramatic fashion.

MISAKI 🐱

You stared at it.

They smiled.

It was a completely normal, cheerful smile.

Like nothing about this situation was weird.

Like they hadn’t just put a cat emoji in their official contract signature.

You dragged a hand down your face. "Why."

Misaki just grinned wider. "Why not?"

You sighed for what felt like the hundredth time today. “Welcome home, I guess.”

Maybe you’d regret this later.

Maybe you wouldn’t.

Either way, you had exactly five minutes to sprint to work before your boss started sending you death threats via email.

You grabbed your coat, already halfway out the door when you paused and looked back at Misaki. They were busy poking at the contract like it was a rare artifact instead of a legally binding document, probably still amused at the fact that they got away with signing it with a cat emoji.

With a sigh, you muttered, “Don’t open the door for strangers.”

Misaki scoffed. “I’m not a kid.”

You rubbed your temple. “I know. Just… saying. Sorry.”

That should have been the end of it. You should have walked out and gone to work, but something snapped inside you, and suddenly, words just started tumbling out of your exhausted soul like a faucet with a broken handle.

"Look, it's just... I've had the worst week. No, month. Maybe year. My job sucks, my boss looks like a diseased ferret in a cheap suit, I haven’t had a full night’s sleep since 2018, and now I’m standing here in my own apartment, warning a fully grown adult about basic safety like I’m some overworked single parent—"

Misaki blinked. Twice.

"—and I have to leave right now because if I don't show up at work, my paycheck will be so small I’ll have to start stealing sugar packets from cafes just to survive!"

They nodded slowly. “...That’s a lot, dude.”

“Yeah,” you exhaled, rubbing your eyes. “Anyway. I was gonna make dinner later. If you want, you can join me. Whatever I cook will probably be mediocre at best, but at least it won’t be cup noodles.”

Misaki’s eyes sparkled. SPARKLED. “I accept.”

"Cool," you mumbled, too drained to process their enthusiasm. You turned and left, already dreading the shift ahead of you.

Meanwhile...

The moment the door shut, Misaki EXPLODED.

"HAHAHAHA! I GOT A HOME!!"

They dramatically threw their arms up and immediately grabbed their PC, clutching it like it was their firstborn child. "YAY!"

Ronin, V, and Angel, who had been waiting for an update, got an earful as Misaki hopped onto a call.

“GUYS! I’M IN!”

Ronin snorted. "Took you long enough. So, what's the place like?"

"Honestly? Pretty normal. But my landlord—"

Angel cut in. "Wait. You met them?"

"Yeah?" Misaki flopped onto their new (and slightly squeaky) bed. "They look like they haven’t slept since the invention of capitalism. Like, imagine a guy who’s been dealing with too much bullshit, and you multiply that by, like, fifty. That’s them."

Ronin cackled. "Sounds like a great roommate dynamic. A sleep-deprived office worker and a contract assassin. Truly the dream team."

Misaki smirked. "I'm pretty sure I could break a plate in front of them and they’d just sigh and accept it as part of their fate."

V, who had been oddly silent until now, finally spoke.

"Misaki."

Misaki blinked. "Huh? What’s up? You almost never call me."

V didn’t respond immediately. There was a slight pause, as if they were carefully choosing their words. Then—

"If that person is dangerous, you can tell me."

Misaki’s teasing expression softened a little. V wasn’t usually the overprotective type, but when they were, it always hit different.

"Awh, V…" Misaki grinned, but this time, it was more genuine. “Don’t worry. If anything sketchy happens, you’ll be the first to know."

"...Good," V muttered

Misaki stared at the screen for a second before chuckling softly to themselves.

Yeah. Things might be weird.

But at least they weren’t alone.

Misaki sprawled across their new bed, lazily twirling a stray lock of hair as they grumbled into the call. “Man, my landlord is so boring.”

Ronin snorted. “Already talking shit? You literally just moved in.”

“No, like, seriously.” Misaki threw their legs up against the wall, staring at the ceiling. “There is nothing about them that makes them even remotely interesting. They’re not cute, not hot, not even a charming idiot. Just a sleep-deprived husk of a person. Like, imagine if a tax return became human.”

Angel wheezed. “Not a tax return.”

Misaki kept going. “Dude looks like they’ve been slowly decaying under fluorescent lighting for the past decade. You ever see someone who just radiates corporate misery? That’s them. Their entire personality is ‘I hate my job, I hate my life, I hate that I’m standing here breathing air right now.’”

V hummed. “...So, what you’re saying is, they’re not your type.”

"EXACTLY." Misaki pointed at their screen like V could actually see them. "I’m telling you, there is a 0% chance of me falling for them. Zero. Absolutely no potential for romance. If my life was a dating sim, this person wouldn't even be a side character. They’d be like... the NPC running a convenience store who has one line of dialogue.”

Ronin was dying. “Bro. You moved in like two hours ago. How are you this sure?”

Misaki scoffed. "Because! No charm. No personality. No tragic backstory with just the right amount of angst to make them attractive. Not even a hint of adorable dumbass energy. My standards are on the floor, and somehow, they still didn’t pass."

Angel whistled. "Damn. So what are they?"

"A blank slate," Misaki declared. "Like, just a person. An overworked, underpaid, ‘I’m too tired to care’ person. They didn’t even care about my background. Just said, 'Sign here' and 'Don't open the door for strangers.' Like, where’s the spice? The mystery? The suspiciously convenient tragic past?”

V sighed. “You’re disappointed your landlord isn’t a walking red flag, aren’t you?”

Misaki gasped. “How dare you.”

“So that’s a yes.”

“I don’t want them to be a red flag!” Misaki flopped onto their stomach. “I just expected something. But no. Just a corporate zombie with an office job and the social energy of a potato.”

Ronin smirked. "Sounds like you feel bad for them."

Misaki scoffed. "I don’t—"

Angel cut in. "Oh, you totally do."

V chuckled. "Misaki’s about to adopt this poor soul."

"I AM NOT—” Misaki groaned, rolling onto their back dramatically. “Okay. Fine. Maybe I feel a little bad. Like. Bro looks so exhausted. Their eyes have dark circles so bad it looks like they’re wearing eyeliner—but not in the hot way. In the ‘I have never known rest’ way.”

Ronin cackled. "So what I’m hearing is, you’re gonna start feeding them proper meals and fixing their life."

Misaki scoffed. "I am not—”

Angel interrupted. "Misaki. You literally just agreed to have dinner with them."

Misaki paused.

"......okay but that's different!"

"Is it?"

"YES. I mean, come on, they look like they live off black coffee and regret. They need help."

V sighed, amused. "So you are gonna try and fix their life."

Misaki grumbled. "Shut up."

Ronin grinned. "You're so falling for them."

"AM NOT."

"You so are."

Misaki groaned loudly, smacking a pillow over their face. "WHYYYY."

Angel laughed. "Face it, dude. You already care."

"I DO NOT—"

"Yes, you do."

"I AM NOT—"

"Yes, you do."

Misaki groaned louder, kicking their legs. "UGHHHHHHHHHH."

V just chuckled. "You can keep lying to yourself. But we’ll be here when you eventually eat your words."

Misaki dramatically pointed at their screen. "MARK MY WORDS. I will not fall for this person."

Ronin smirked. "Yeah, yeah. Sure."

Angel hummed. "We’ll check back in a month."

V sighed. "A week."

Misaki groggily cracked one eye open, blinking at the dim light seeping through their window. Something felt off. Their brain, still half-asleep, took a few seconds to piece it together.

The clock.

They shot up. 9PM.

“OH SHIT.”

They scrambled out of bed, nearly face-planting as they tripped over their own bag. "I SLEPT SO LONG—WHY DID NO ONE WAKE ME UP?!" Their first day here and they already looked like some lazy freeloader. The impressions? SO BAD.

And worse—FREE FOOD.

They were supposed to eat with their landlord. That was the deal. The agreement. And now? They were about to walk in like some sleep-deprived goblin asking for scraps. No, no, no, I need to salvage this—

Still in their slightly rumpled clothes, they rushed out into the hallway—only to pause.

Why was it so dark?

Like, yeah, okay, it was night. But this wasn’t just regular night darkness. This was horror movie darkness. The kind where someone would definitely get jump-scared if this were a film.

"...Maybe they thought I was still sleeping and didn’t want to disturb me?" they mumbled to themselves, rubbing their arms.

Still, that meant their landlord was up. And they were probably in the kitchen.

Misaki crept forward, heart pounding from both oversleep anxiety and the eerie vibe of the house. They reached the kitchen door and, taking a deep breath, swung it open.

And immediately wished they hadn’t.

Because there, standing at the counter, was their landlord.

Covered in blood.

Chopping human hands.

"...What."

The sound of a knife steadily hitting the wooden cutting board was the only thing filling the silence. The metallic scent in the air? That was not normal food.

Misaki, frozen, stared at the scene before them. The dim kitchen light flickered just enough to make it worse. Their landlord, sleeves rolled up, hands stained red, expression completely blank.

Their mouth moved before their brain could stop it.

“...Uh. H-Halloween props?”

Their landlord didn’t even blink. Their voice was dry. Flat. “It’s human meat.”

Misaki gawked. Then screeched, “YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO AGREE WITH ME!”

Their landlord just went back to chopping. “You asked. I answered.”

"LIE TO ME, DAMN IT."

The chopping continued. Misaki, still standing in the doorway like a dumbass, did their best not to freak the hell out.

Okay. Okay. There were two options here.

Run.

Pretend this isn’t happening and get some free food.

...Misaki was so hungry.

But also. THIS WAS REALLY BAD.

They swallowed thickly. "O-Okay. Haha. Funny prank. Y-You got me. W-Wait—wait, actually, this is a prank, right? Like, like, come on. Haha, Misaki’s an idiot, they fell for it, right? Hahahaha—"

Their landlord finally looked up, blinking at them.

"...You missed dinner."

Misaki blinked back. THAT'S NOT AN ANSWER.

They forced a stiff smile. "Haha. Yeah. Super sorry about that. But, uh, back to the insanely concerning thing you’re doing—"

Their landlord sighed, sounding just...so unbelievably tired. "Do you want food or not?"

Misaki’s stomach betrayed them instantly.

A loud, miserable growl echoed through the kitchen.

Silence.

Misaki wanted to die.

Their landlord just went back to chopping. “Sit down.”

Misaki’s legs moved before their survival instincts could stop them. WHAT WAS WRONG WITH THEM.

They plopped into a chair at the kitchen table, brain screaming at them the whole time. This is bad, this is bad, this is—

A plate was placed in front of them. A steaming dish of...something.

Misaki stared at it.

Their landlord sat across from them. Staring. Expression unreadable.

Misaki picked up their chopsticks very slowly.

"...So. Haha. Just to clarify. What...exactly...is in this?"

Their landlord took a sip of their tea. "Food."

"...But, like. What food?"

A long pause. Too long.

"...Meat."

"What kind of meat?"

Another pause.

Misaki squinted.

Their landlord sighed. "Not human."

Misaki exhaled so hard they nearly passed out. "THANK YOU." They hesitantly took a bite, still on edge but way too hungry to care anymore.

"...It’s good," they mumbled through their mouthful.

Their landlord shrugged. "I know."

Silence settled between them as they ate.

Eventually, Misaki, unable to let it go, squinted again. "So, like. If I didn’t walk in on you just now, were you gonna tell me about the whole...human hands thing?"

Their landlord sighed like they had the worst headache. "...I was going to clean up before you woke up."

"*Oh, so you had a PLAN.**"

"Yes. Until you ruined it."

"SORRY FOR WAKING UP AND CATCHING YOU WITH BODY PARTS."

"Noted."

You let out a tired sigh, rubbing the back of your neck as you casually wiped the blood off the knife. “It’s nothing. Just some weird-looking shit.”

Your eyebags were doing all the talking for you. They were deep, dark, and probably had their own tragic backstory at this point. Combined with the blank, sleep-deprived expression on your face, you looked exactly like the type of person who’d chase someone down a dark alley with a kitchen knife—except you were too tired to actually run, so you’d probably just slowly walk after them like some unstoppable horror villain.

You smiled.

And not a comforting smile.

A dead inside but definitely hiding something smile.

Misaki, for some reason, just sat there, staring at you like they were contemplating something deep. You waited. And then, out of nowhere—

“…NGL, you do look kinda hot with eyebags.”

You blinked. “What?”

Misaki immediately sat up straight. “NOTHING.”

Your exhausted brain short-circuited for a moment. You knew you looked terrifying. This was not a “hot person” moment. You were literally covered in blood, and they had the audacity to say that?

You squinted at them. “Are you flirting with me while I’m holding a knife?”

Misaki, shoving more food into their mouth to escape the situation, spoke through their chewing. “Hahhaha what nooooo you misheard me anyway sooo you’re a serial killer?”

You sighed, pushing the knife aside. “No.”

“…A cannibal?”

“No.”

“Serial killer?”

“No.”

“Cannibal?”

“No.”

“…Serial killer cannibal?”

You stared at them, absolutely deadpan.

“Cannibal serial?”

The stare continued.

“…Cereal?”

You rested your chin in your hand, blinking at them very slowly, like a tired cat contemplating murder.

“If you’re thinking about calling the police,” you finally said, voice dry and smug, “just know you can’t.”

Misaki raised a brow. “And why is that?”

You gave them a look, gesturing vaguely at their whole situation. “You see, Mx. Misaki—” (you dragged out their name for extra dramatic effect) “—you are completely fine.”

Misaki paused, chopsticks halfway to their mouth. “I feel like I should disagree with that.”

You shrugged, leaning back in your chair with the most exhausted but smug expression ever. “No, you won’t. If you were that desperate for a place to stay, why would you start questioning things now?”

Silence.

Misaki hated that you had a point.

You let your head tilt to the side slightly, your tired smile stretching just a bit. Your overgrown bangs crossed over your face, casting shadows over your already dark-circled eyes. You looked crazy. Like, the kind of crazy that wasn’t even trying to be threatening—it was just naturally unsettling.

And yet, somehow, it worked.

Misaki sat there, staring at you like they were trying to process several emotions at once.

They squinted. Then they sighed. “God. Damn it.”

You arched a brow. “Problem?”

Misaki rubbed their temples. “No, it’s fine, I just… really, really hate that you’re kinda right.”

You chuckled, pushing their contract across the table. “Good. Now, are you actually gonna sign, or do I have to sit here and look at you until you cave?”

Misaki snatched the pen. “You’re terrifying.”

“You’re still here.”

“Shut up.”

They quickly scribbled their name on the contract. And, in a moment of true genius, wrote Misaki—except they added a little meow at the end.

You squinted at it.

You stretched your arms over your head, your bones cracking like a horror movie sound effect. “Alright, you can sleep now. Unless…” You tilted your head, that same eerie, exhausted smile tugging at your lips. “You wanna watch me cut?”

Misaki immediately recoiled. “No!? Nah, ewww, bro. The hell!?”

You chuckled, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. “It’s okay. Just know this, Misaki…” You let your smile linger as you picked up the knife again, voice dropping to something too casual for the situation. “…I know where your room is.”

Misaki stared at you. Then, very slowly, nodded. “Yes. Because… we live in the same apartment.”

“Exactly.” You grinned, tapping the blade against the cutting board. “Just making sure you remember.”

There was a pause before Misaki narrowed their eyes. “…Are you actually gonna eat it?”

“Yes.” You said it so matter-of-factly, like it was just a regular grocery store steak.

Misaki gagged. “BRO.”

“Waste of meat otherwise,” you replied, moving the chopped… pieces into a storage container like this was just your regular meal prep. “I’ll store it.”

Misaki looked so deeply disturbed. “You look like a whole-ass horror movie antagonist right now.”

“Yes,” you said, unbothered, still focused on your work. “I am a mess. Last time, the dry cleaners didn’t believe it was just suit paint. Had to be real careful.”

Misaki rubbed their face. “Jesus. The fact that I don’t even know if you’re joking or not is crazy.”

You glanced up from your task, eyes dark and unreadable. “Don’t try anything stupid, Misaki.”

They stiffened slightly. “Uh. Yeah. Of course not.” They pointed a thumb toward the hallway. “I’m just… gonna go this way…”

You gave a slow nod. “And I’m gonna stay here…” You trailed off, staring blankly at the cutting board.

Misaki hesitated. “And… do what you do…”

You smiled again, soft and exhausted. “Good night, Misaki.”

They stood there for another second, just long enough to question every single life choice that led them to this moment. Then, very quickly, they left.

Because if they stayed in that kitchen any longer, they were pretty sure they were going to start questioning their sanity.

Misaki slammed their door shut so hard the walls rattled. They didn’t care. Their heart was pounding in their chest, adrenaline coursing through their veins. They pressed their back against the door, locking it in one swift motion before triple-checking that it was actually locked.

They had just walked in on their new landlord butchering human hands.

HUMAN. HANDS.

They squeezed their eyes shut and took a deep breath.

Okay.

This was fine.

This was so fine that their fingers trembled as they fumbled with their phone, opening the group chat and pressing the call button for the three people they trusted most in this world.

📞 Calling: Ronin, Angel, V.

Each ring made their pulse spike. Misaki was practically vibrating with panic by the time someone finally picked up.

“Who died?” V’s voice came through first—sharp, unimpressed, and already so incredibly done.

“I DID.” Misaki whisper-screamed, throwing themselves onto their bed and clutching the phone like a lifeline. “I JUST FOUND OUT MY LANDLORD IS A SERIAL KILLER—ACTUALLY, NO—A SERIAL CANNIBAL.”

Silence.

It stretched on for a few painful seconds before Ronin, always the worst possible person in situations like these, finally spoke up:

“That’s so f*cking cool.”

“SHUT UP, GOREBIY.” V immediately snapped. “MISAKI, GET OUT. NOW.”

Angel, normally chaotic, actually sounded concerned. “Wait, wait, wait, explain. Are they, like… bad bad? Or just… you know… manageable?”

“OKAY,” Misaki took a deep, shaky breath. “So, I woke up, right? And I go to the kitchen—AND THEY’RE JUST CHOPPING UP HUMAN HANDS.”

Ronin whistled. “Damn. Whole hands? That’s commitment.”

V exhaled sharply, like they were personally suffering. “MISAKI.”

Angel hummed. “…Maybe they just like fresh ingredients.”

Misaki squinted. “Angel.”

Angel cleared their throat. “I—I mean—that’s weird! Super weird! Ha ha! Who would do that?! Not me.”

“You absolutely would, and you’re in denial.” Misaki deadpanned before continuing. “ANYWAY, I was like, ‘bro, is this some kind of Halloween prop or something?’ AND THEY JUST—THEY JUST DRYLY WENT, ‘IT’S HUMAN MEAT.’”

V: “LEAVE. GET OUT. CALL THE COPS.”

Ronin: “WHY WOULD YOU CALL THE COPS? THIS IS FREE CONTENT.”

V: “I SWEAR TO GOD, RONIN.”

Misaki flopped onto their back, exasperated. “NO, Y’ALL, LOOK. They seem chill. I don’t think they’re gonna eat me. I’m just saying—THEY’RE A SERIAL KILLER, LIKE US.”

Silence.

A heavy, judgmental silence.

V: “…That does not make it better.”

Angel: “That kinda makes it better.”

Ronin: “That definitely makes it better.”

V: “I NEED NEW FRIENDS.”

Misaki sat up, grinning. “Look, I swear, I think they’re cool. A little dead inside. A little tired of life. A little unhinged. But, like, in a fun way.”

“…Misaki.” Angel sighed. “Tell me the truth.”

“Yeah?”

Angel sounded incredibly unimpressed. “Did you think they looked hot?”

Silence.

A very dangerous silence.

Then, Ronin burst into laughter.

“OH MY GOD.”

V groaned like they were physically in pain.

Angel sighed, exasperated. “You’re so hopeless.”

“I—” Misaki felt personally attacked. “OKAY, LISTEN, IN MY DEFENSE—THEY HAD A PINK APRON ON.”

V: “WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING!??”

Ronin: “NO, WAIT, I SEE THE VISION.”

Angel: “Honestly, I kinda get it.”

V: “STOP AGREEING WITH THIS.”

Misaki pointed at nothing. “They looked extremely messy and hot. Like, imagine eyebags so bad it looks like they’ve been awake for years. They had the tired, dead-inside psycho look but with, like, a pink ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron.”

“…Oh my God.” V sounded like he were suffering.

Angel sighed. “Fine. I won’t tell you to run. But. If they start getting weird with you—”

“WEIRDER.” V corrected.

“—you call us immediately, alright?”

Misaki saluted. “Aye aye, captain.”

V groaned louder. “I’m going to find you a new place. Don’t die before then.”

“No promises.” Misaki grinned.

And with that, they hung up, absolutely pleased with themselves.

Because, let’s be honest.

This was gonna be fun.

For the first few days, things were… weirdly normal.

Sure, their landlord was a serial killer and a cannibal, but Misaki had seen worse. They were alive, weren’t they? Not chopped up in the fridge? Not marinated in some mystery sauce? That was a win.

Besides, they had their own room, cheap rent, and, most importantly—free shit.

Like, actual free shit.

Their landlord didn’t just let them stay, they gave them access to everything.

Netflix? Free. Wi-Fi? Free. Streaming services? Free. Some random subscription to an online manga site? Also free.

All just handed over.

Misaki had barely even asked. One offhand comment about boredom, and boom.

"Oh. Here. Just use mine."

BRO.

They were living the life.

Their job wasn’t too bad, either. As long as they kept doing their work remotely, no one cared. Meanwhile, their landlord was busy being a corporate slave—dragging themselves to their soul-sucking job every single morning and coming back more and more dead inside.

But hey. That was their problem.

Misaki? Misaki was thriving.

At least… until today.

Misaki woke up to a noise.

It wasn’t an alarming noise, per se, but it was… consistent. A weird, low dragging sound.

Their brain, still foggy with sleep, immediately jumped to the worst conclusion.

Oh no. They’re dragging a corpse again, aren’t they?

Great. Fantastic. How wonderful.

They rolled over, pulling the blanket over their head. Maybe if they ignored it, they could go back to sleep.

...But the sound didn't stop.

If anything, it started sounding worse.

Like something falling.

Something heavy.

That... didn’t sound like a body.

Curious—and slightly concerned—Misaki sighed, pushing themselves up. They dragged their feet as they left their room, rubbing their eyes. The hallway was dark as hell, but they could vaguely make out the shape of their landlord collapsed on the floor.

...What.

What.

Panic immediately shot through their body.

"OH, SHIT."

They rushed forward, kneeling beside them. "HEY, HEY, WAKE UP—WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?"

Their landlord groaned, eyes fluttering open. They looked **even worse than usual—**which was impressive, considering they always looked like they’d been awake for seventy-two hours straight.

Misaki frowned. “Dude, what the hell? You okay?”

Their landlord sighed.

Then, in a deep, tired, deadpan voice, they muttered:

"I hate my job."

…

Misaki blinked.

"Bro, you just fainted. Are you dying?"

"No. I just hate my job."

"Okay, but like. Why."

Their landlord slowly sat up, rubbing their face. "Because it's hell."

"That’s not a reason."

They groaned, dragging a hand down their face. "I deal with the dumbest people imaginable. Every day. Just absolute idiots. My boss is a parasite. My coworkers are stupid. And my clients? Even worse."

Misaki hummed. “Sounds like hell, alright.”

Their landlord exhaled sharply. “I swear, I would rather be—” They suddenly froze, seeming to remember who they were talking to.

A fellow criminal.

A fellow killer.

Someone who would absolutely call them out.

They cleared their throat. “Uh. Metaphorically.”

Misaki snorted. “Sure, sure. Totally not suspicious.”

Their landlord just groaned.

They looked so done with life. So exhausted. So miserable.

And—ugh. Misaki was starting to feel bad.

Like, yeah, their landlord was a murderous cannibal, but they are nice!

Misaki sighed as they trudged toward the kitchen, rubbing their face. The day had already been too much, and now they had to figure out what to cook for you, of all people.

You, the psychotic, dead-eyed, possibly-a-murderer-but-still-weirdly-chill roommate.

Still, they did feel kinda bad for you. Not bad enough to ignore the human meat in the fridge, but bad enough to cook something edible.

They pushed the kitchen door open—

Only to suddenly get shoved against the table.

Their back hit the surface with a dull thud, and before they could even process what happened, there you were.

Standing over them.

Looking at them.

STUDYING them.

Like a damn predator.

Misaki’s heart jumped. Their entire body locked up, every survival instinct they had screaming at them to run.

And then—

Then, their eyes drifted down.

And they saw the shirt you were wearing.

They blinked.

Once.

Twice.

HUMAN BY CHANCE, ALPHA BY CHOICE.

They just stared.

Dead.

Silent.

As if their soul had physically left their body.

Three full seconds passed before they finally spoke.

“…You cannot be serious.”

You tilted your head. “What?”

Misaki slowly lifted a hand and pointed. “THAT. WHAT YOU’RE WEARING.”

You glanced down at the godforsaken t-shirt, completely unbothered. “Oh. It was on sale.”

“OF COURSE IT WAS.”

“I think it’s funny.”

“IT’S NOT.”

You ignored their entire reaction. Instead, you just stared at them again.

And then you spoke.

“You look really delicious right now.”

Misaki blinked.

They froze.

Their brain completely short-circuited.

“…Th-thanks? I try?” They ran a hand through their hair, suddenly hyper-aware of their own appearance. “I mean, I thought I was average-looking, but—”

Wait.

WAIT.

HOLD ON.

Their brain finally caught up with the situation.

Misaki jerked back in horror.

“BRO. I’M NOT FOOD. GET THE HELL OUT.”

You snorted. “Relax. I promised I wouldn’t eat you.”

Misaki squinted. “That doesn’t make this less creepy.”

“I just wanted to take a look at you.”

“FOR WHAT?!”

You shrugged. Your eyes scanned them, like you were inspecting something. Calculating.

Then, suddenly—

“What’s with the gun?”

Misaki stiffened.

They immediately reached for their holster, confirming their weapon was still there. “...What?”

“You’re armed,” you said simply. “Why?”

Misaki scowled. “Uh, duh, I’m not stupid? I just moved in with a cannibal. You think I wouldn’t bring a gun?”

You blinked. Then, without hesitation—

“What kind of a killer are you?”

“EXCUSE ME?”

You gestured vaguely. “You’re clearly trained. What’s your thing?”

Misaki’s eye twitched.

“…I’m an assassin.”

You stared.

“…Oh.”

Silence.

More silence.

Then—

“So you’re bad too.”

Misaki threw their hands up. “OH, AND YOU’RE SO SAINTLY?”

“No, I’m just saying. You kill people too.”

“THAT DOESN’T MEAN WE’RE THE SAME.”

You tilted your head, watching them. “Why do you do it?”

Misaki exhaled sharply. “Because I’m broke.”

“...That’s it?”

“I have debts.” They crossed their arms. “Paying for my parents.”

You froze.

The air shifted.

For the first time, you didn’t have anything to say.

Misaki narrowed their eyes. “What? Surprised?”

“…No.” Your voice was quieter now.

Misaki was still standing in the kitchen, arms crossed, replaying the last five minutes of their life in their head like a buffering video.

What the hell just happened?

They had been ready to make you food because, surprise surprise, even unhinged serial killer cannibals needed to eat actual meals sometimes. Then, suddenly, BAM. They got slammed against the table, stared at like a premium cut of wagyu steak, and then hit with the existential crisis of realizing their creepy, horrifying, serial-killer housemate might not be as emotionless and dead inside as they originally thought.

And now? Now, they were standing there, hands in their pockets, watching as you wandered back into the kitchen like nothing happened.

Like you hadn’t just acted like some kind of deranged, sleep-deprived maniac in a cursed T-shirt.

You looked at them, tilting your head slightly, before rubbing the back of your neck.

“...Maybe I’ve fallen for you.”

Misaki choked on their own spit.

“I’M SORRY, WHAT—”

You sighed like this was some grand, tragic confession instead of the most batshit insane thing you could possibly say at this moment.

“I usually eat my housemates,” you said casually.

“EXCUSE ME?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Two so far. Both gone in a day.”

Misaki took a full step back. “What the actual—”

“But you feel different,” you continued, like you hadn’t just admitted to literal cannibalistic homicide. “I don’t want to eat you.”

“Oh, WHAT A RELIEF.”

“You make me feel… energized.” You stared at them, brows furrowed slightly, like you were still trying to figure it out yourself.

Misaki swallowed, every muscle in their body tense. Should they be running? Because they should probably be running.

And then—

“So, do you want to eat together?”

Misaki blinked.

“Do I want to—HELL NO.”

You shrugged, completely unfazed. “Okay.”

Silence.

Then you tilted your head, as if a new idea suddenly popped into your deranged little mind.

“Do you want to be lovers?”

Misaki’s brain blue-screened.

“WHAT.”

You nodded, still way too casual about this whole thing. “Lovers. Dating. Romance. That stuff.”

Misaki stared at you.

Long.

Hard.

As if staring at you long enough would force you to make sense.

It did not.

“What the actual hell are you talking about.”

“I’m saying we should date,” you said, blinking at them like they were the weird one here.

Misaki took another step back. “WE HAVEN’T EVEN BONDED.”

“Okay,” you said with a slow nod, like you were completely open to negotiation.

“Okay?”

“Do you want to marry me instead?”

“WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. HELL.”

You just blinked at them again, waiting for a response like this was some totally normal topic of conversation.

Misaki dragged a hand down their face. “Dude. We haven’t even—WHY is that the next logical step?!”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. But I am falling for you.”

“OH MY GOD.”

Silence.

More silence.

And then, as if suddenly struck with divine inspiration, Misaki sighed deeply and crossed their arms. “Fine.”

You tilted your head.

Misaki smirked. “I’ll give you a challenge.”

You raised a brow. “A challenge?”

“Yeah,” they said, grinning. “February. It’s the month of love, right?”

You just nodded.

Misaki leaned in, poking your forehead lightly. “You wanna win my heart? You got one month to make me like you back.”

You stared at them, processing.

Misaki’s smirk grew. “And if I do like you by the end of February, then maaaybe we’ll talk about this ‘lovers’ thing.”

You were quiet for a long moment.

Then, with that same exhausted, dead-eyed expression, you nodded.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

You nodded again. “Yeah. Also, you don’t have to pay rent for February.”

Misaki paused.

“...Wait. Hold up. What?”

“No rent,” you repeated. “February’s free.”

Their eyes narrowed. “Are you… bribing me?”

“Yes.”

Misaki grinned. 'Okay!'

IT'S NOT OKAY

Misaki collapsed onto their bed like a ragdoll, face buried in their pillow as their entire soul reeled from the conversation they just had.

What the hell was happening.

They had moved in less than a week ago. Found out their landlord was a literal serial killer/cannibal. Somehow weren’t dead yet. And now?? Now their psychotic, sleep-deprived, blood-covered housemate was falling for them??

What kind of romantic horror-comedy bullshit was this??

And worse, WHY was the rent-free month kinda tempting?!

Misaki groaned into their pillow before rolling over and grabbing their phone. They needed backup. NOW.

They dialed The Chaos Hotline.

Aka: Angel, Ronin, and V.

Within seconds, V picked up.

“Misaki,” V said immediately, tone suspicious. “You never call. What happened.”

Ronin’s voice piped in from the background. “Oh, oh, is this about the cannibal landlord? Are they hot?”

Misaki sat up. “WHY is that your first question?!”

“Because it’s important.”

Angel sighed. “Misaki, please tell me you didn’t get into a hostage situation again.”

“No! I mean—maybe?! I don’t know!” Misaki ran a hand through their hair. “Okay, LISTEN. They—they confessed to me.”

Silence.

Then—

“What?” V sounded like Misaki just committed a war crime.

“LMAO” – Ronin.

“Holy shit.” – Angel.

Misaki flopped back on the bed. “I don’t know how it happened!! One second they were staring at me like a five-star wagyu steak, and the next they were like, ‘I think I’m falling for you.’”

Angel gasped. “You made the serial killer catch feelings?”

Ronin wheezed. “BASED.”

V was not having it. “Misaki. Get. Out.”

“Dude, they said I don’t have to pay rent for February.”

“STAY.” – Ronin.

“OH MY GOD.” – V.

Angel hummed. “So… ”

Misaki clenched their fists. “STOP ASKING THAT.”

“Which means yes,” Angel said smugly.

“I—LOOK. I MAY HAVE SLIPPED AND CALLED THEM HOT, OKAY?!”

More silence.

Then:

Ronin. Wheezing. “You—YOU LIKE THEM TOO, DON’T YOU?!”

Misaki exploded. “I DO NOT LIKE THEM BACK. I JUST THINK THEY LOOK KINDA HOT COVERED IN BLOOD. IT’S AESTHETICALLY PLEASING, OKAY?!”

V. Exasperated. “MISAKI.”

“I’M NOT.”

“You’re literally getting romanced by a serial killer, and you’re already calling them hot when they’re covered in human remains.”

Misaki groaned. “This is not happening. This is a stress response.”

Ronin snorted. “Sure, buddy. Keep telling yourself that.”

V sounded done. “Okay, so what’s your plan? Because if they’re a serial killer, you probably shouldn’t lead them on.”

Misaki hesitated.

“…I may or may not have made a deal.”

Angel perked up. “Oh?”

Misaki winced. “I told them… that if they can make me fall for them by the end of February, then maybe we can talk about the ‘lovers’ thing.”

Silence.

Then:

Ronin. Losing their absolute shit. “MISAKI, WHAT THE HELL?!”

Angel cackling. “THIS IS A ROM-COM.”

V. “MISAKI, THAT’S NOT HOW YOU HANDLE A CANNIBAL KILLER.”

“I PANICKED, OKAY?!?!”

Ronin was dying. “You gave a cannibal a dating challenge?!”

“Yes??”

“Bro.”

Misaki groaned, covering their face. What the hell was their life.

Angel giggled. “So what’s their next move, you think? Romantic dinner date? Valentine’s Day surprise? Ooo, what if they give you a human heart in a box?!”

Misaki shuddered. “PLEASE don’t manifest that into the universe.”

V sighed. “You need to be careful, Misaki. If they actually get attached, that’s dangerous.”

Misaki huffed. “Relax. I got this. I’ll make sure they fall out of love before the month ends.”

Ronin snorted. “Or you’ll fall for them first.”

Misaki scowled. “No chance in hell.”

Angel smirked. “We’ll see.”

[artificial-transmutations]

Beating Recession

Recession sucked, that much was clear to Logan even before he checked his email inbox. When he saw a few replies to his job applications from the last days, he sighed. He didn't need to open the mails to know that the news was bad, but he did so anyway.

"We regret to inform you..." - Logan didn't even read on. He had lost his job as an apprentice electrician about half a year ago. The company was going under, and Logan, the youngest and least experienced worker, was the first to go. That's how it was in this business. Since then, he had applied to every single position that came up - but apparently, the current economic situation was so bad that nobody needed another worker.

Logan had hoped that his apprenticeship would get him a job, but the fact that he was only 20 and had not much practical experience hurt him. Slowly, money was becoming a pretty big problem. Whatever savings he had (for some real estate of his own! As if that was going to happen!) had melted away over the last months. His rent was due, and he had no income.

In fact, he was one month late with his rent already, and although his landlord had been cool about it, Logan did not see how he would be able to keep his apartment. He really, really wanted to avoid moving back in with his parents who had their own problems, too.

So, what was he going to do? There wasn't much more to do than keep looking for a job, even though his chances were slim.

He opened LinkedOut and looked for openings, just as he had done multiple times before this week. The sparse list of jobs had not changed, so Logan scrolled on.

He was about to give up again when a listing caught his eye.

"Escape unemployment today! Change™ job agency will find the perfect job, for the perfect you. Apply here!"

He had heard of such agencies before, and the results were not pretty. Usually, they just took the applicants' data and sold it on. They would claim to have found a job for you, but it usually wouldn't work out, and the applicant would have paid money for this useless service. Still, Logan was curious enough to click the link. If they wanted money, he would back out immediately - it was not like he had any to spare.

To Logan's big surprise, when he clicked the link, a new page opened, with a web-based chat interface. Before he could close the tab again, there was already a message in the window. It read:

"Kevin: Hey, and welcome to the Change™ job agency. My name is Kevin. How may I help you today?"

It was a nice surprise that they didn't try to sell him anything or even ask for his data before he had entered the website. Well, no harm done. He might as well give them a try. Hesitating slightly, Logan's fingers hovered over the keyboard before he typed:

"Hi. I'm Logan and I'm looking for a new job."

The answer came quickly, but not so quickly that Logan would suspect the other person to be a chatbot. After some moments, Kevin's reply appeared on the screen:

"Great. What kind of job are you looking for? And what kind of salary are we talking?"

Logan considered the questions. This was probably the point where they would ask him for his data. He silently cursed his excessive caution. Of course, they had to ask these questions. How else should they offer him anything?

"Uhm. My last job was as an apprentice electrician, but at this point I would be pretty happy about just any job. The salary should be high enough to pay my rent."

Logan hesitated before hitting enter. He didn't want to come over as quite so desperate, but the truth was, he was.

"Okay, no problem. Do you have a preferred working sector?"

What a weird question. Why did it matter what industry he preferred?

"Uhm, not really. I guess anything is fine."

"Very well. Before I look up what's there in our database, I would need some basic information about you. Namely gender, age, ethnicity and sexual orientation."

"Wait. What does my sexual orientation have to do with a job? Besides, why do you need to know my ethnicity? Is this even legal?"

Logan had typed furiously and pressed enter before thinking about his reply.

"I understand your confusion. We here at the Change™ job agency strive to find not only a job, but the best job for the best you, so we need to know what we're working with. It wouldn't be very appropriate to apply a person as an actress who is really good at sports, now would it? Of course, you have to understand that your answers are confidential and will not be disclosed to any third parties, especially not your future employer."

That was fishy deluxe. Logan really didn't want to feed some unknown job agency all that highly personal information. On the other hand,... what did he have to lose?

"Well, I guess it can't hurt. Uhm. I'm a male, 20 years old, I would call myself white and I'm heterosexual."

"Wonderful. One last question: Are you comfortable with nudity and public sexual activities?"

"Wait, WHAT? I mean, uhm, sure, I guess? I mean, why should I need that?"

"This question is purely to determine if we should also have a look in the adult entertainment section of our job offerings. Alright Logan, please stand by while I enter your data into our search engine."

Logan leaned back. He felt a bit uneasy about all that. But it was not like his answers could lead them directly to his apartment, so he felt relatively safe.

A minute or so passed, and Logan started to think that he had been tricked after all, but just as he was about to close the tab, a new message appeared.

"Sorry for the delay, I had a few calls. We found two jobs that could be a fit. The first one is an office job in a big insurance company. To be honest, it's not that good of a fit and it doesn't pay very well either."

"That's fine." Logan wrote. He was incredibly on edge now. Could it really be so easy to find a new job? And he even had a choice?

"What's the other one?" he added to his previous message.

"Okay, the other job is a bit more unconventional, but we have the feeling it could be a great match. It's an actor position in the porn industry, at the famous XXX Incorporated."

"Porn? What? Are you serious? I mean, I don't have anything against porn or nudity or whatever, but I'm not sure if this is the kind of job I want."

Logan felt mixed feelings. The prospect of being some office drone sounded pretty uninteresting and a low pay wasn't all that good either. But a porn actor? Logan had to admit, the thought felt somewhat interesting, but he doubted he had what it took for that? Weren't porn stars famously hung and well-built? That was certainly not Logan. Just as he pondered those thoughts, Kevin's answer appeared:

"I understand Sir. So, should we continue with the first job opening then?"

Logan bit his lip, but the curiosity got the better of him.

"Wait. What does the second job entail? I mean, I'm not exactly... equipped for the porn business."

"Well, as I have said: It's an actor position, so you would star in some new adult entertainment productions. While I understand your modesty, our records show that you are more than adequately gifted for this kind of job."

Logan felt confused. He absentmindedly scratched his crotch before he replied:

"Uhm, sorry, I don't think you understand. I don't really think my..." Logan paused. Was he really going to write that? It was embarrassing, but at least he could be reasonably sure he would never meet this Kevin in real life. So, he continued:

"... penis is big enough for such a position."

The answer came promptly.

"Really? Better have a look to be sure ;-)"

A winking smiley? That wasn't very professional. Actually, the whole sentence wasn't. Still, Logan couldn't stop himself from glancing at his crotch. What he saw made him take a double take. His soft cock was forming a visible and ample bulge in his jeans. Logan knew that he was slightly smaller than average, so that was ridiculous. It was almost a... a porn star-sized bulge!

He stared at his package, but it wasn't growing any smaller. With trembling hands, he opened his jeans. Immediately, a well-filled pair of boxers escaped the confinement of his jeans. The dick print of his soft member was clearly visible in his underwear, and it wasn't just much bigger than Logan remembered. It was among the biggest bulges he had ever seen in his life!

His hands explored the impressive manhood through his underwear and felt every centimeter of the hardening dick. He had no idea what had caused this growth, but he wasn't complaining. Before he could interact more with it, however, he noticed another message on the screen.

"Are you still there, Sir?"

"Sorry, yes." Logan hurried to reply. What was he going to write? "I was below average just a few moments ago but now I have one of the biggest cocks in human history"?

Instead, Kevin answered.

"Good! I trust you had a chance to inspect your assets?"

"Uhm, yes."

"So, have you made up your mind, or should I look into the office position?"

Logan was torn. He wasn't sure what he had seen just a moment ago. Still, his enormous cock that was half-hard in his boxers was there, undeniably.

"Let's go with the porn star position." Logan finally typed, and his heart was racing.

"Very good! Now, as I mentioned, the position is in the adult entertainment sector. Do you know the company XXX Incorporated?"

Logan thought quickly about it before replying: "No, sorry, never heard of them."

"That is not at all surprising, since they specialize in the adult sector for homosexual men. According to your data, you identify as heterosexual. I hope that won't be a problem?"

Of course, there was a catch. Logan had heard about these gay for pay people and he hesitated yet again. They paid well, supposedly, but...

"Uhm. Would that mean I would need to be on the receiving end?" He wasn't too close-minded and could imagine kissing another man if he had to, perhaps even receiving a blow job from one. But having another person fuck him in the ass? No, that was way beyond his comfort zone.

"I believe the technical term you are looking for is 'to bottom'." Kevin replied, and added another message shortly after:

"But the company is, in fact, looking for a 'top' actor. They put it like this: 'We are looking for a well-built top for our new productions.'"

Logan was relieved. While he was a gold star gay man (why did he put 'heterosexual'? That was utter bullshit!), he was a strict top. This position sounded better and better. Still, one thing raised some new doubts.

"Hold on. I'm hung like a horse, but I wouldn't say I'm very muscular or even fit. I'm not much of a gym goer."

"Are you sure ;-)?"

Again, with the winking smiley! Kevin sounded so very professional most of the time, but then there were these messages. Logan scratched the back of his shoulder with some effort. Whenever he raised his arms so high the mountains of muscle on his upper arms danced and made it difficult to reach his back. Logan suddenly realized that something had changed - again! His shirt strained against his muscular chest, and as he lifted his shirt, he could see some cobblestone abs on an otherwise flat stomach. His calves had become thicker and strong. His jeans, which had felt slightly loose earlier, now seemed to be getting tighter.

Logan had never been very athletic. His body was lean, but not fit or muscular. That had certainly changed. When he looked at himself, he hardly recognized himself anymore. A huge dick, and a studly body.

Logan shook his head and let the shirt fall again. Whatever was going on, it was not a bad thing, was it?

"Alright, so I'm a buff top with a big cock. Is there anything else?" he smiled as he wrote that.

"Actually, there is one further requirement, but given your cooperation so far I don't believe it will be much of a problem either." Kevin replied, in his professional tone again.

"And what would that be?" Logan was intrigued.

"The company is especially looking for a, and I cite, 'huge, dominant Black top with large dick. Intellectual capabilities are not required'. Are you feeling up to that task? ;-)"

This time, Logan immediately raised his shirt to watch his body change. As soon as he read the words, his skin began darkening, first a golden bronze and then a rich black. It was a gradual change but happened very quickly. His muscles became even more defined, and his body hair thickened and grew even darker.

He didn't know what 'intellectual capabilities' meant, but as his body grew larger and thicker, he felt a strange fog entering his mind. It was a little unsettling at first, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. His usual thoughts quickly became overshadowed by his raising libido. As he grabbed his huge, Black throbbing cock, a dominant smirk crept on his mouth.

He turned his attention back to the computer and typed:

"Yeah, baby. I think I can make that happen. Just tell me who to fuck and I'll be there!"

He saw Kevin reply with a street address and a date and time, but Logan decided he would read that later. Now, his cock demanded his entire attention. He absentmindedly noticed his webcam turning on but paid it little attention. If Kevin wanted to watch him jerk his fat cock, he was very welcome to. After all, he just helped him find the job of his life!

That's certainly a way to beat recession! Also check out this blog!

[beesmygod]

if you were making a syllabus for a comics class, besides the obvious (homestuck, hark a vagrant, a comic from KC green, a comic from ONE), what comics would you say best represent webcomics as a medium/ are needed to represent the medium? I always liked your hitmen for destiny rec and was wondering if you knew anything else like that

if we're talking about representations of the format rather than just examples of good comics, i think the choices would be really different. for one thing i would cut hark a vagrant and kc green comics since, while both good, they "operate" more or less the same as print comics and utilize the internet primarily as a means of distribution rather than incorporating it into the creation process (beyond making colors websafe, when applicable)

as a lowbrow example, jerkcity (or whatever its called now) is a purely web-based creation. the scripts are private chats dumped into microsoft comic chat and generated from pre-made software assets. im not a fan personally, but there are xkcd comics that make conscious use of the web-medium/infinite canvas to create comics that can literally only exist in a web format (homestuck is the same, but on a massive scale which would make it hard to teach in this scenario). bouletcorp (english website dead? huge loss imo) featured quite a few comics that took advantage of readers needing to scroll in order to obtain more information. e.m. carroll's horror works capitalized on the use of scroll and click to induce tension in the reader. dinosaur comics managing to squeeze decades of comedic juice out of clip art dinosaurs arranged in the same layout every day.

i feel like a class about webcomics should be about the comics that differentiate it from the print medium, if that makes sense. manhua would also fit into this but i would choose cutbu as the example bc i love cutbu comics lol. they came back last year just so everyone knows. with a comic called 28th century superfan

[terramythos]

Its very funny for me to recall this but I used to be HEAVILY into neopets. back in the day people with really nicely named or painted pets would put them 'up for adoption' and require like, custom web page applications for them. Maybe people still do this, idk, but this was before you could legally 'trade' pets on the site.

I knew this lady who had some really great names (like common real words with fantasy undertones) on her pets and we were both frequent posters on the same off-site neopets forum. She was in her 30s and I was like 14 and we both were aware of this. Anyway she put one pet up for adoption and her requirements were insane, like it required huge writing samples and personal art of the pet and custom CSS coding for the app page and stuff like that to prove they really wanted the pet.

She asked me for feedback and I made an offhand comment that that kind of standard was a little ridiculous for a virtual pet on a kids website. We'd chatted before so I didn't expect a negative reaction, and like she'd asked ME for help so I was honest with her.

Anyway she completely flipped out at me. She started to leave angry or sarcastic comments on any post I made on the off-site forum for the next year or so. If she saw me post on the official Neopets chat boards she'd do the same thing. She led this campaign against me and insulted me to any mutual friends. She was fairly well known on the forum (I was too) so whenever she did special projects or anything she explicitly banned me from participating in any of them.

It was totally insane, she knew I was a young teenager and this was a full ass adult woman twice my age (and I have reason to believe she was truthful about her age-- she made a pretty sophisticated neopets fan site that required some professional understanding). I cannot stress enough this was for a minor negative comment on something that didn't matter on CHILDRENS WEBSITE NEOPETS DOT COM. This had to be mid/late 2000s by my reckoning.

After I'd moved on from the forum a couple years later and played Neopets less frequently she would STILL angrily comment on whatever Neoboard comments she happened to see me make. Like she did this for years. I don't think it was direct stalking because it was fairly random when it happened. I just ignored it.

She never even adopted out the pet, pretty sure what apps she received didn't follow the insane rules EXACTLY so she disqualified all of them

Now that I'm in my 30s I literally cannot imagine being that angry at a teenager. It's extremely funny what a loser she was. Like it was so beyond the pale it sounds like I made it up or am exaggerating. except I remember how upset I was being targeted and bullied by an adult for fucking years. I literally don't give a shit about it now but like I have to wonder how this woman copes with everyday life to have this level of obsessive hate for years over something a teenager said to her. Online. About a virual pet. So fucking bizarre, I have to wonder if she targeted others

[robomad]

Real-time Web Applications with Socket.io and Node.js

Building Real-Time Web Applications with Socket.io and Node.js

Introduction Real-time web applications have become increasingly popular, allowing instant updates and interactions. Applications like chat rooms, live notifications, and collaborative tools benefit greatly from real-time capabilities. Socket.io is a powerful library for building real-time applications, providing a simple and reliable way to implement WebSockets in Node.js. This guide will walk…

[mcyt-yaoi-exchange]

Hello, welcome to the MCYT Yaoi Exchange event! We are a brother event to @mcyt-summer-of-yuri. This post will serve as our introduction and our FaQ, so feel free to reference this post at any time.

Gift Requirements:

Writing - 1.5K word count minimum (if you intend to write multiple chapters, you must have at least 2/3 of your total story written by posting period and the first chapter must be no less than 800 words long. Also please let mods know in the Discord if you plan more than one chapter.)

Art - clean sketch with lineart minimum (or whatever point of the process this would be in your art style if lineart is not applicable)

Poetry - 100 word count minimum (or multiple shorter poems with a total of no less than 100 words)

Web-weave - at least 1 board containing 10 elements

Other -

Playlist: minimum 2 hours

Moodboard/Stimboard: minimum 2 boards equaling 18 elements

Video Edit: minimum 45 seconds in length

Any other ideas that fall under this category please discuss with the mods.

Please note: If you plan to choose the other category at sign up, please choose at least one of the other main categories.

What is not allowed:

• Themes of incest (canonical or in relation to headcanons specified in sign-ups)

• Themes of pedophilia (referring to ships containing minors, such as Child/Adult, Teen/Adult, Child/Child, or Teen/Child pairings, with an exception to platonic or romantic pairings consisting of only characters between the ages of 14 to 17 for Teen/Teen relationships)

• Themes of underage drinking/drug use (consumption of substances by characters under the age of 18)

• Themes of abuse (physical/mental/sexual harm inflicted on a character or mutually between multiple characters involved)

• Usage of slurs (words used in a derogatory fashion against a character in regards to aspects of who or what they are)

• Lack of consent (while dubious consent may be allowed if requested in your sign up, a lack of consent entirely will not be tolerated)

• AI generated art (this applies to fanart generated by AI, fanfic created using chat bots, and anything else along these lines)

What is "Yaoi"?

For the purposes of this event, we will not be accepting genderbends or trans headcanons of canonically cis female characters. Yaoi would include any pairing or character who would be eligible to fit into the gay umbrella. They/Them gays are also allowed.

Age Limit:

The age limit to join will be 15. To create/receive any NSFW gifts, on the other hand, the age limit will be 18 and we ask that your gift be censored when posted on Tumblr if it is a visual art medium (though if you wish to DM your giftee with an uncensored version, go right ahead!).

Included Fandoms/Relationships:

The fandoms and relationships will be chosen through an ao3 nomination period. We will explain more later.

Where will the event be held?

This event will be held on ao3 and Discord only. All event updates will come from this Tumblr account and via the announcements channel in the discord.

Collection Link

Discord Link

Timeline:

Mod Applications: June 16th - June 24th

Mod Review: June 24th - July 1st

Discord Opens: July 6th

Nomination Period: July 7th - July 20th

Sign ups: July 21st - August 7th

Gift Notification: August 8th - August 11th

Creation Date: August 8th (when you get the email assignment) - September 30th

Posting Date: October 1st - October 7th

Treat Posting: October 1st - October 31st

Mods:

Here is the team incase you might need us for anything.

@kaije224 @rutellingmeashrimpfriedthisrice @blocky-tides