SenVersum

Lurking account to follow Interactive Fiction tumblr

[senversum]

Emergency Commission for food

hello, im in desperate situation, I've been starved and i need money to be able to restock my food. im opening one slot commission for $35 instead of $50. if you are interested, you can go to my Ko-fi, Thank you :heart:

emergency food

Commission available on Ko-fi.com

[senversum]

Emergency Commission for food

hello, im in desperate situation, I've been starved and i need money to be able to restock my food. im opening one slot commission for $35 instead of $50. if you are interested, you can go to my Ko-fi, Thank you :heart:

emergency food

Commission available on Ko-fi.com

[senversum]

still open btw :) *please feed me

[summeroflove-if]

What's changed:

If you played the original Chapter 1, you'll notice this is essentially a different game. The original came in in at 26k words, the rewrite is 469k. The prose has been overhauled from the ground up, with richer writing, deeper characterisation, and far more branching to reflect your MC and their choices. Scenes that existed before have been rebuilt rather than revised, and there's a significant amount of new content that wasn't in the original at all.

What happens:

Arrive at the villa and meet your fellow islanders one by one as they enter.

A one-on-one conversation with one of the nine other islanders before the coupling, who you spend that time with is your choice.

The coupling ceremony, where you'll be paired up for the days ahead.

Word count

469k words total (+443k from the original Chapter 1). Individual playthroughs are a fraction of that, the word count reflects how much the content branches to account for your choices and your MC.

A note for returning players: Chapters 2–11 are no longer accessible while the rewrite is in progress. Chapter 1 is the only playable content for now, but it's a much more substantial Chapter 1 than the one you remember.

Game Summary:

Welcome to Summer of Love. You and nine other singles will enter a luxury villa and couple up, spending a month in each other’s company, along with a few extras along the way – you’ll live together, eat together, sleep together, and hopefully, fall in love together. Sound familiar? Thought so – but instead of coupling ceremonies being split by boys and girls as is typical in shows like these, the public will be the ones deciding the order of who gets to pick, and as the cast is an all-bi one, you can pick whoever you like, so long as they haven’t already been picked. At the end of the month, the most popular couple will win £500,000. As for the other couples? As there are no dumpings, everyone has the potential to find love, and those in exclusive relationships by the end could also win £100,000 per couple. Ready for your summer of love to begin?

Play here!

@if-news-again @interact-if

[senversum]

Emergency Commission

—Opening Emergency Commission—

ko-fi for more samples:

Buy SenVersum a Coffee

Become a supporter of SenVersum today!

Hi, im offering a commission again, im kinda in urgent need of money to get away from my house and rent a place for my own.

my Dad and lil sister has been mentally abusive even tho im the one taking care of the house after my late Mom passing 2 years ago. but today it turns into physical to the point they curse me to die (like tossing me to the floor, hitting with steel pipe, etc). i just can't take it anymore. i lose my job to take care of my lil sist since she was like 4 years old because my dad getting chased out of the house after we caught him in infidelity. but now after we allow him back into the house and my lil sist turned 17 y/o they turn against me.

i provided a picture of one of the injury i just got from my dad roughhousing today but i will blur it to not disturb anyone, sorry in advance.

Edit: sorry i don't know how to put a blur/spoiler on image on Tumblr.

[senversum]

more samples, full rendered with extra BG.

[senversum]

more sample~

[senversum]

Emergency Commission

—Opening Emergency Commission—

ko-fi for more samples:

Buy SenVersum a Coffee

Become a supporter of SenVersum today!

Hi, im offering a commission again, im kinda in urgent need of money to get away from my house and rent a place for my own.

my Dad and lil sister has been mentally abusive even tho im the one taking care of the house after my late Mom passing 2 years ago. but today it turns into physical to the point they curse me to die (like tossing me to the floor, hitting with steel pipe, etc). i just can't take it anymore. i lose my job to take care of my lil sist since she was like 4 years old because my dad getting chased out of the house after we caught him in infidelity. but now after we allow him back into the house and my lil sist turned 17 y/o they turn against me.

i provided a picture of one of the injury i just got from my dad roughhousing today but i will blur it to not disturb anyone, sorry in advance.

Edit: sorry i don't know how to put a blur/spoiler on image on Tumblr.

[senversum]

more samples, full rendered with extra BG.

[senversum]

Emergency Commission

—Opening Emergency Commission—

ko-fi for more samples:

Buy SenVersum a Coffee

Become a supporter of SenVersum today!

Hi, im offering a commission again, im kinda in urgent need of money to get away from my house and rent a place for my own.

my Dad and lil sister has been mentally abusive even tho im the one taking care of the house after my late Mom passing 2 years ago. but today it turns into physical to the point they curse me to die (like tossing me to the floor, hitting with steel pipe, etc). i just can't take it anymore. i lose my job to take care of my lil sist since she was like 4 years old because my dad getting chased out of the house after we caught him in infidelity. but now after we allow him back into the house and my lil sist turned 17 y/o they turn against me.

i provided a picture of one of the injury i just got from my dad roughhousing today but i will blur it to not disturb anyone, sorry in advance.

Edit: sorry i don't know how to put a blur/spoiler on image on Tumblr.

[summeroflove-if]

Hi loves. I'm going to be honest with you because I think you deserve that.

I'm in a rough spot financially right now. I'm housebound, I've been trying to find ways to make money for weeks, and it hasn't been working. So I'm doing the thing that feels uncomfortable and just... asking.

The chapter one rewrite is almost done. 375k words, probably about two weeks out. You've been so patient and so kind about this whole process and I genuinely cannot tell you how much that means to me.

If you've ever enjoyed Summer of Love—the characters, the chaos, the all-bi cast—and you're in a position to, my Ko-fi is https://ko-fi.com/summeroflove. Even a couple of pounds makes a real difference right now. No pressure, no obligation, just me being honest with people I trust.

And if you can't, a reblog of this post genuinely helps more than you know. I love you all a normal amount.

[robotvampire]

[December 1, 2025]

This is the twelfth demo update for Fellow Traveler and also marks the four year anniversary of the game’s initial publication!!

With Act 4 being added, Episode 3 is now complete!!

260k total, approximately 70k per playthrough.

You get to:

Place some hex bags

Find out what really happened to Jo

Learn a bit of lore

Flirt with Blair (or don't; conditional)

Drive off into the sunset (sort of)

The usual suggestion: please play through the demo from the beginning so that stats and such are up-to-date.

Play the demo here!

💖

[sometiktoksarevalid]

[twinflamedreams]

[plasticfangtastic]

Dunno if anybody will see this but this person made a how to guide on how to make this at home (this guide is from 2 yrs ago btw)

Lectern Book by Verdant Core

A handy spreadsheet to work out the dimension of the parts to cut

[nourasbasha]

A final signal. Gaza is completely cut off from the world—no internet, no connection—and Israel is blocking every attempt to reconnect, targeting anyone who tries. Now Iran is being bombed and the region stands on the brink of explosion while we remain trapped in deadly silence. If this message reaches you, it may be our last chance. Help us secure a safe home and education for our children❤️‍🩹 Don’t let Gaza disappear in silence.

[nourasbasha]

I am risking my life and the lives of my children just to use an eSIM and tell you what’s happening in Gaza. Please don’t hesitate to share this and donate if you can. The situation here is terrifying.

[the-passenger-if]

Hey, gang. How is it going? It’s been a while since I last posted, and although at first it was because I was working on my new projects, as of late it had to do with a medical emergency regarding my partner. I don’t usually talk about him (I think I’ve mention him once or twice on my personal blog) but we’ve been together for a long time and last December I thought I was going to lose him.

It shook me hard, gang. And it’s only now that I feel more or less ready to open up about it, and take care of my socials while at it. The thing is, everything that went down has left us a bit uncertain about the future. So much so, I’ve been contemplating creating a Patreon.

It’s still too soon to tell, but I guess I wanted to let you all know in case someone is interested.

I’ve also written down a snapshot of December-January. Call it group therapy.

Hope everyone is doing fine, for my part I’m feeling better. Lots of hugs!

It’s 3 AM when I wake up. In the dark, something huge plummets from the sky like the blade of a guillotine falling in slow motion. A plane, I’m sure of it (I’m always sure of it) and it’s coming down to crash on my two-room home.

I stay motionless in bed, staring at the dark, my heart about to burst out of my chest, and I wait...

And I wait…

But the plane sails away, the baritone screaming of the blade following behind.

I don’t leave my bed until I can’t hear it anymore.

Later on, I tell my parents and grandma about it at lunch. “I feel like something bad is going to happen.”

“Something like what?”

“Dumbest answer? A plane is going to crash down on my house. Less dumb answer, el Flako is going to have a car accident.” A blade made out of a car roof or door, slashing the air, slicing through the tender flesh of his neck. His head flying out of the cabin of his truck, or falling on the passenger seat.

I laugh because at 1 PM it sounds stupid and I can almost wipe out the awful image of his headless body from my mind. My aphantasia is nowhere to be found whenever I picture the most horrific deaths of the people I love.

My mom gives me a blister pack of my grandma’s anxiolytics. “Take a quarter whenever those thoughts appear.”

When el Flako comes from work I tell him I can’t wait for December to end. When he asks me why that is, I tell him it’s a shit month and that everything bad always happens in December.

I take a quarter of a pill whenever I feel like bad news are around the corner. I’m jumpy. Car honks make my skin itch all over, a kid scream makes my heart race. It’s worse at dawn. Planes keep playing chicken with me.

It’s December 24 and el Flako and I spend christmas eve camping in front of the Río Talabera. We drink pear cider and beers while stargazing. No planes follow me here. I didn’t take my anxiolytics with me.

We travel back home. My dad is sitting out when we arrive. A single look at his face tells me something is very wrong. He looks old.

“What happened?” I ask.

“The water tank fell through your roof.”

It fell on grandma, I’m sure of it. “Is everyone alright?”

“Yes.”

Then why do you look like it killed someone? I want to ask. Instead I push, “For real?”

“Yes.”

My muscles relax. Yeah, it sucks. It’s the third water tank that gets obliterated—the first one burned down before we could even install it, the second one flew off the roof in the storm of December 17, 2023. This one was full, and a faulty base couldn’t withstand one tonne of water. Death by fire, air, and water; this shit is really starting to look like the avatar of water tanks.

It’s fine I tell myself, nobody is hurt, it could’ve been so much worse. Sure, it broke a more or less small part of my very new roof, but I’m sure we can fix it.

Innerly, I let out a sigh of relief. This is it. This is why I’ve been fearing something falling down on me. Case closed.

December ends in a week from now.

My anxiety drops for exactly 5 days.

It’s 5 AM on December the 30th andI’ve just sat on the toilet when my phone starts ringing. It’s el Flako’s brother. “Don’t fret,” he begins, “[el Flako] passed out at work. Another trucker called an ambulance and is with him at the hospital. I’m about to go see him.”

“Could you pick me up first?” I ask. If he can’t, I’m taking an uber, but he can.

We spend the entire hour-long trip to the hospital assuring each other el Flako is fine; he never has breakfast before going to work, not even mate or mate cocido. It has to be that. We purposely avoid discussing what his coworker said about el Flako being unable to speak, or stand by himself. Or how he couldn’t follow the paramedic’s instructions while on the ambulance.

When we finally arrive, we zip through rows and rows of tired, scared looking people waiting for news of their own relatives in the Emergency wing.

“There he is,” says el Flako’s brother, and I spin my head around waiting to see my life partner. Instead I see a late thirties, early forties guy sitting on a metal chair. He is rubbing his eyes.

He is crying.

He is not crying.

He is crying because el Flako is dead.

He is a coworker, not even a close one.

He turns to see us approach, and my stomach drops. He looks like my dad before he told me the water tank had taken a piece of my roof with it.

He stands up.

I can’t feel my legs.

He is crying. His eyes are red.

I feel like I’m walking on stilts, or like all my joints have fused together.

“Hey,” he says. They give each other a dap, and when he tries the same with me, I go for a greeting kiss. I always accept daps, but there’s only one thing in my mind at the moment.

Is he dead? I want to ask. “Is he awake?” I ask instead.

“Yes,” he replies. I think I say something, I think I give thanks to something—the universe, god, the devil—I’m not sure. I’m not religious but I was born in a catholic country and that stuff is hard to shake off. “The doctor wants to talk to a relative.”

“I go,” I say, and el Flako’s brother gives me the go ahead. I’m not el Flako’s relative, I am his partner. Our anniversary is in 2 months: 17 years since I asked him to be my boyfriend. But we aren’t married. His brother doesn’t mind, though; he isn’t married to the mother of his children either and they’ve been together for almost 20 years.

The doctor tells me el Flako had a brain hemorrhage. He asks me if el Flako takes drugs. No, he doesn’t. Does he drink? We had some wine last night, I say. The doctor looks confused.

“How old is he?”

“34,” I reply, and, “What is the worst case scenario?” Because my anxiety is killing me, and I need to know there’s a roof to all of this, a limit, something. I’m drowning in the middle of the sea here.

“Worst case scenario, he slips into a coma,” the doctor tells me.

Not death, my mind takes a hold of that fact like it’s a rope ladder someone threw at me from a helicopter.

And maybe because the doctor realizes I haven’t understood the severity of the situation, he adds, “It’s a lot of blood pushing against his brain. It’s shifted his longitudinal fissure—the ‘crack’ of the brain between the two cerebral hemispheres.”

The doctor tell us “relatives” to go in and talk to him. El Flako is awake, and the moment I see him it feels like I can breath again after having my head underwater. He says he’s fine, but half of his body lacks strength, he’s speaking as if drunk, and so low I have to lean in really close to hear him. His brother tells him to stay calm and that everything is going to be OK before leaving.

“You were right,” my life partner mutters. “About your gut feeling. Something bad did happen.” We laugh. We kiss. Then he is crying.

El Flako is a sensitive guy, but I haven’t seen him cry since we were in our teens and would have dumb fights which culminated in both of us crying. He is doing it now in that silent, tears sliding-down-your-cheeks way. He is scared. I am too, but I hug him and kiss him over and over again. “You are here with me,” I tell him. “You are alive and being taken care off. They got you just in time, don’t fret.”

I have to go. I don’t want to go. I don’t feel like myself when we are apart. We were 17 when we met and started dating, the same span of time we’re about to celebrate in our next anniversary.

I sit in the waiting room feeling like a gutted fish, hollowed up inside, like a carcass, like half of my soul is locked away. It sounds so dramatic, and I’m never been particularly romantic, but I swear there isn’t another way to properly describe it. I’m half-empty.

That first night I return home at around midnight. My mom brings me food and checks on me. I haven’t cried the entire day. I don’t cry with her in the room, but I do cry in the shower, and I cry harder when I get into bed.

Why him? Why? He is one of the most good-natured people I know. He doesn’t deserve this.

But who does? Life doesn’t work that way.

I fall asleep, but I don’t dream.

On the next 3 days we learn El Flako has an arteriovenous malformation, and that it can be treated with a procedure called a brain embolization. It costs 20.000 dollars, and I’m already thinking about asking for donations on this blog, but I don’t need to; his obra social* takes care of it.

They transfer him to their sanatorium that same day. The ambulance trip is uneventful, and while they take him to the ICU, I stay down in the lobby to fill in forms.

He spends the next 10 days in that room before the medical supplies arrive, and he can’t be more done with the situation by this point: all of his roommates are comatose, two of them pass away of horrifying injuries while he’s placed in there, the urinary catheter hurts him, he can’t have his phone with him and obviously he can’t watch TV in there. They keep sedating him, so every day I visit someone that looks like my Flako but is maybe half of the person I know. He wants out. I want him out of there too.

His neurosurgeon asks to speak with a relative before the procedure and I’m half-way to the elevators when I look back at el Flako’s parents. “Go ahead,” his mom tells me. The surgeon is so young, and he says the procedure should go well, but there’s always the possibility of rupturing an artery and leaving el Flako in a worse state. He’s been getting better ever since; the strength in his muscles is coming back, and he doesn’t speak slurring his words anymore, although the slight stutter he’s always have has worsen. “Any more bleeding is bad news for him,” the neurosurgeon tells me, “But if we don’t do it, you can be sure his brain will bleed again.”

I sign the papers.

“You can talk to him before we bring him here.”

I do just that.

“It is what I want,” el Flako tells me. “I’m tired of being coop up here.”

“Aren’t you worried?”

“No.” He thinks about it. “Can it go wrong?”

I wonder if I should lie, but only for a second. “Always. It’s a medical procedure. But if you don’t do it, then it will definitely bleed, and we will be back where we started.”

“Yeah.” He grabs my hand and I give it a tight squeeze.

They take him away. I’m incomplete again. I take half a pill.

I fall asleep in the waiting room. I don’t dream. I haven’t since December the 30th. I think the part that handles my dreaming sticks to him.

Four hours later, at half past 10 PM they call us up. I am waiting outside the operating room alongside el Flako’s dad. The neurosurgeon, steps out and offers both of us his hand to shake. “It was a success,” he says and I feel like I need a wider face just so I can smile a bigger smile. Then to me, he adds, “Everything I say could go wrong, didn’t. He’s just waking up from being under.”

He opens the door and I catch a glimpse of el Flako and the people in charge of keeping him alive and well. A group of five women and men get at the feet of his bed. “One, two, three,” they say before pushing it out of the room. I lost count of how many Thank yous I shoot their way, and they beam at me as they accept them.

El Flako is still dazed, but he holds up a hand when his dad and I wave enthusiastically at him. He doesn’t put it down even as the orderlies roll him into an elevator.

He is discharged from the sanatorium 2 days later. We get married a day after our 17th anniversary.

I’m dreaming again and I only take anxiolytics whenever it starts to feel too much like the last five minutes of a Nightmare on Elm Street movie. I guess that stuff won’t get magically fixed, but we’re taking it one day at a time.

*I can’t find the English translation for “the agency in your job that takes care of your hospital bills”. In Argentina it’s Obra Social, and every month they take a part of your payment so they can pay for your medical bills (and your partner’s and children’s) should you need it down the road.

[shrubsparrow]

I made an art/anatomy tutorial about birds! I hope people will find it helpful!

[senversum]

Please Help (Urgent Commission)

im opening an urgent commission for 2-3 slots (you could dm me here or visit my ko-fi at https://ko-fi.com/senversum)

My chubby cat (Meng2) has not been well for the past few weeks, he has high temperature (did he caught a cold or something? Im not really sure), He barely move around lately coz he got no energy and he could only sleep or lying down the whole day, lately he tend to cough and puke daily, he also got a diarrhea, he lost his voice and lately i could barely hear his meowing, he already lost a lot of weight.. im afraid of him getting any worse and i wanna bring him to a professional/doctor for some medical care but im basically penniless, i dunno what happened to him.. he is a cat i got from my late mother whom just passed away in 30th April, i dont wanna see him suffer any longer.

Please help me give him the medical help he needs ಥ‿ಥ.. thank you.

[retquits]

SAM'S NEW WINTER OUTFIT IS A PERSONAL ATTACK

[luxmundi-i]

This is not a natural disaster. This was not inevitable. They didn't grow up like this. It was inflicted on them by the vilest sadists on earth.

[osakaonryoif]

3 and a half character portraits!

Here, I have 3 and a half character portraits to share that I commissioned and then completely forgot to put on my tumblr lol. The artist is the highly talented @senversum, please give him all the love for this, cause this is his work not mine. <3

Kaito Busujima:

Midori Yasukawa:

Makoto (Male and female versions)

M

F

I hope you all love these as much as I do! Thank you again, @senversum, for being a pleasure to work with!

[whatlovelybones-if]

this has been my wattpad baby for a long time and now i’ve given it an interactive makeover. @albywritesfiction and i have been working on coding it and after a lot of trial and error, we finally made a decent demo out of it!

i won’t be making any blog for this as it’s just a fun interactive fanfiction project which we’ll be updating on the side, but it may change in the future, who knows. for all the percy jackson fans, i guess this will be a bonus on top of the new PJO show.

this was first released on wattpad back in 2014 (yes, i was like 12 back then) and since then, i’ve converted it into something in which readers can actually play as the protagonist. although my old wattpad account was deleted (rip kissmylefttoe), i’m happy to say that i had my old cringey drafts to recover and edit 😭

huge thanks to alby for actually making a coherent product out of all the messy ass codes which they had to sort through 😭 without them, this project wouldn’t have seen the light of the day at all. i love working with them and this collaboration has been overall stellar!

explore the world through new lenses as you tackle fighting Greek monsters and gods who want you dead.

customize your name, gender, pronouns, sexuality, and your godly parent out of the Big Three.

zeus, of the sky, thunder, lightning, kingship, honor, and justice.

poseidon, god of the sea, storms, earthquakes, droughts, floods, and horses.

hades, god of the underworld, dead, and riches.

get expelled for the ninth time in a row.

unravel dangerous prophecies and find out why the Fates should stick to playing bingo in a retirement home.

make some friends and some very dangerous enemies.

visit a casino, fight Medusa, and a chihuahua.

destroy a national monument.

take a trip to atlantis, hell, and heaven (sort of).

prevent another civil war from happening before the summer solstice.

lace-up your shoes, grab your pen and shield, and embark on a quest to retrieve zeus’s master bolt before he gets very, very angry.

sounds like a party you’d be interested in? play it here