Grilled Cheese

ExploreLog inSign up
Terms of UsePrivacy PolicyCommunity StandardsHelpGet the app

Grilled Cheese is a product of Village Compute

Version devBuilt at: 2026-10-17 03:54:26 EDT

PhotosVideosAllPeople
LatestRanked
@talesbyjin.bsky.socialSep 29, 2026, 10:14 AM

#Snippetshare #WritingQ

I had to try really hard to find a snip that wasn't Spoiler Central. Hopefully this is enough to pique some interest without giving up all the goods~🦈

#writingcommunity #TY4LM

I grabbed a second broom and made my way back out the window. Down on the courts, Marin had already set to sweeping the sand away at a pace that would be quick even for me. But she wasn’t breaking a sweat. I couldn’t understand what it was with these sisters. I had spent so much time with them, but I understood so little. Why were they here? Why was my father involved with them? Or the government for that matter? All this time, and I still kept those questions to myself. I’d gotten over the worry of accidentally mentioning I had seen them that day summers ago. Enough time had passed that it didn’t really matter anymore. But they hadn’t said anything about seeing me, either.
@melwaverly.bsky.socialSep 29, 2026, 9:35 AM

From WIP 1 - These Words Remain Unsaid

So many questions!

#Snippetshare #WritingQ

“I know,” Julie said. “But never mind that. I have some news. What are you doing a week from now?” “I don’t know, Jules. I think I might be in Paris.” Julie froze. “Really?” Izzy rolled her eyes. “No, not really, Weirdo. We’re high school students. Our schedules are pretty much go to school, go home, half-ass our homework, rinse and repeat.” She arched an eyebrow. “Why?” “Because we have a gig—a real one.” “What? Where? How? When?” Julie laughed. “So many single-word questions—where to start? ...” Mel Waverly - These Words Remain Unsaid, chapter 9
@sainiku.northsky.socialSep 29, 2026, 5:24 AM

#Snippetshare #WritingQ

She has a plethora of questions, but just can't get them all out.

#WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

As he began to leave, a million different questions raced to my lips, all struggling to be heard. But only one squeaked through. “What about my statement?” Isaac stopped, his hand already grasping the handle of the door. I could see little of his face as he stared towards his exit, but through strands of his long gray hair, the wide venomous grin that spread across his lips was clear as day.  His voice rang low, yet strong with a dark finality. “There is no need. I’ve already written your lines, saving you the trouble of speaking them.” He gently swung open the door. “Goodbye, Jane Sothara. You will be missed.”
@bumblebigirl.bsky.socialSep 28, 2026, 7:07 PM

Wendy has a number of questions for a talking weasel in this scene
#Snippetshare #WritingQ

“Hey!” His legs flapped about uselessly over the void. “What’s the big idea?!” “Information.” Wendy smiled sweetly. “In my experience it comes so much more freely when a very long drop is involved.” “You bitch!” Weasel slashed in Wendy’s direction with his claws. She responded by letting him fall again. Dido scrambled to the edge to see, but Wendy dropped back down and retrieved him before he struck the bottom. “I need happy thoughts for this to work, shit-for-brains!” she informed him as she emerged above the lip of the hole. “You better keep me in a good mood! How did you find my friend here? How do you know who she is?” “I don’t know nuffin!” he squealed, looking rather less defiant. “They turns up and we sell ’em! Gotta make money somehow! There’s a recession!” Wendy let him drop again. She cut saving him a bit finer this time. “Bad time to make jokes! You know where she comes from, don’t you? How? Who told you?” “We used to work for the Captain!” He was nearly sobbing, which was quite satisfying to watch. “He’s the one who knew about the other place!” “Captain?” Wendy’s eyes narrowed. “Captain who?” “Just the Captain! That’s all I know! I was just the hired help! No one ever talked to me!” Wendy grinned wickedly. “Oh. Well, then. I guess I don’t need to either, do I?”
@alexfromawen.bsky.socialSep 28, 2026, 5:31 PM

I debated going with Mona peppering her aunt Gwen on what it means to be a Lost One (vampire), but instead, thought I'd go with Princess Eva starting off her betrothal w/ Cameryn when they don't even speak the same language...or do they...?
#WritingPrimpts #SnippetShare #WritingQ #SapphicFiction

“What am I doing here?” I muttered, glanced down at my hands, a wave of frustration washing over me. Thoughts of attractive women and strange cultures did me no good right now. “Stuck with a fiancée I never chose, whom I must both marry to secure this alliance and save the realm, yet also I should not possibly marry because my mother believes it would be shameful and wrong.” Across from me, Cameryn watched me in that strange, penetrating gaze she had in the throne room, head raised and eyes narrowed. It irritated me. “You didn’t even consider the fact that you were the one who proposed we discuss the predicament we find ourselves in, but sent away the man who could help us do that, did you?” I demanded, giving my head a shake with a scoff. “Relying on strange, arrogant giants from across the ocean who know nothing about our lands…probably don’t even understand running water or electricity.” Cameryn snorted, muttering, “Syn’eri arnoch?” There was a tension in her shoulders, a shift that hadn’t been there moments before. No doubt my irritated tone had registered with her. “At the same time, we’ve not exactly made the best first impression, either, have we?” I continued, softer. “You came so far from your home, only for my mother to immediately insult your parents…that was unacceptable of her. For what it’s worth, I apologize on her behalf. Divine appointment doesn’t excuse rudeness. I wish I could make her understand.” As I spoke, Cameryn tilted her head slightly, her gaze still on me, and softly said, “Mi batuil di bhi baesheyl ar ses’suis ar dis van’farel.”“You continuing to speak isn’t going to make me magically understand you,” I muttered. All I could manage was a soft, bitter laugh, rubbing my temple as a headache threatened to take hold. “The one person who’s just as trapped in this situation as I am, and I can’t even understand you. It’s not like we can mime everything.” Turning toward the door, I added, “We should call the others back in; we’re getting nowhere like this.” There was a brief pause before I could rise, where Cameryn cleared her throat and spoke again, saying in a precise manner, “I said you were brave.” I froze, my eyes wide, fixated on the door to the hall. Turning my head back to her, slowly and almost reluctantly, I met Cameryn’s gaze. Her brows were knit together with a hint of concern. Taking a deep breath, I asked carefully, “What was that?” “You were brave, standing up to your mother. She does not seem to be a woman who accepts questions,” she replied, her voice carrying a beautifully musical accent to it reminiscent of Beovulf’s—yet distinctly in Brael, clear and ringing in the stillness. I shot to my feet in an instant, the sound of my chair crashing to the floor reverberating through the room, betrayal washing over me like a wave as I exclaimed, “You speak Brael?!” Cameryn flinched slightly at the sharp outrage that laced my voice. “I do, yes,” she admitted. I was in disbelief. “And you’ve been able to understand us this whole time?” I demanded, my voice trembling with the weight of betrayal. Cameryn remained seated, looking up at me with a resigned nod. “For the most part, I have, yes.” She replied softly.
@maruthauthor.bsky.socialSep 28, 2026, 3:14 PM

#SnippetShare

One of many instances of Rowan questioning things to death.

Photo, no description
@nightoffallengods.comSep 28, 2026, 2:48 PM

#SnippetShare

Pardon the longer snip, but this is a bit of a lore dump and also tracks to an answer that raises further questions while silencing them…

Roderika, Arlo, and Mary are mid escape when their route takes a macabre turn…

#WritingQ #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

The Sister shook her head, handing Reka a torch and lighting her own. "Come on, it's a long way yet." Mary led them down the steps, the stone walls to either side close and narrow. The stairs wound their way back and forth through the rock. The deeper they went, the colder and damper the air became. Reka, her mind still filled with the sights and sounds of the Faithful's ritual could not stop questions from bubbling up from her mouth. "What did Pius mean when he spoke of cleansing the world? What is Heaven?" The stairs evened out into large slabs and the tunnel opened up slightly, causing Mary's voice to echo eerily as she answered. "We are taught," she paused and shook her head "the Faithful teach that they are the chosen few of their previous world. That the Savior called them to this one as a reward for their faith. In their minds, this world is the Heaven they were promised as that reward. They raised me to believe that their faith would show the people of this world the error of their ways, that eventually they would abandon their false Gods." "False Gods?" Reka asked, bewildered. "I have met each of the Nine, and other minor Gods besides. There's nothing false about them." Then the way Mary spoke struck her. "You're talking about the Faithful like you're not one of them anymore." "I don't think | am..." Mary's voice was hollow. "Everything | was raised to believe was a lie." A flash of hurt and sadness crept back into her voice, causing it to waver. "I'm not even sure the Savior is real. I see now that Jonah, Pius, no one back there truly follows His laws. And if that truly was Him..." her voice shook again, this time from the shudder Reka saw run down her back, "what they're doing is not something I want to believe in." She could sympathize. No other ritual or ceremony for any other God she had seen turned her stomach the way what they'd seen did. "So, are the Savior and the Redeemer the same then?"Mary started to shake her head, then pulled a face. "I think "the Redeemer' is the name the people of this world gave him, or it was mistranslated early on. We... The Faithful only ever call him 'Our Lord and Savior'. I suppose you could say that the man on the cross back there is his manifestation in the world, like how you've told me the Nine do." They came to the bottom of the stairs and Mary stopped to raise her torch over her head. Reka raised her torch as well, peering at the walls around them. The dark stone had changed to be much lighter. It was also much more uneven, striated in odd layers. She reached out a hand and touched the wall, realizing as she did that they were no longer stone. The walls were lined with human bones. Her hand rested on a long thick bone with knobs on either side, and she snatched it back. She looked around and above herself again, taking the grisly sight in. "Polyana..." the prayer died on her tongue. The Goddess of Healing and Death had no place here. She would never allow something like this to be built. They came to a wide archway like the one before, except where the previous had been stone blocks set with skulls in their center, this archway was made entirely of them. Past the archway, the tunnel immediately branched, continuing forward as well as to either side. She and Arlo kept to the tunnel's center while Mary led them forward, their torchlight casting jagged shadows between the bones lining the walls and the eye sockets of hundreds of human skulls placed haphazardly among the rest. Every few yards there would be an alcove where a stone coffin would sit, identical to the ones above in front of the Saviors Altar, down to the strange cables running from the head and foot of each into the wall on either side. After the first half dozen they came to a junction, and corridors split off again to the left and right into the gloom. The corners of each point of the junction seemed to be made of spines. She reached out and ran a hand…They came to a second juncture before Mary answered, turning left without looking. "The First Saints, the people who were first brought to this world by the Savior. Each of these coffins holds a man who came from the Faithful's original world." "Only the men?" Arlo, looked around. "What about the women?" Mary held her torch up to the center of the next alcove they passed. In its light was a posed upper half skeleton, its arms outstretched in supplication and its skull turned towards the stone ceiling above. "It is a wife's duty to watch over and keep her husband. Even in death." That silenced Reka and Arlo's questions.
@scarletvmitchell.bsky.socialSep 28, 2026, 2:33 PM

Return of the Monday #Snippetshare #WritingQ!!!
🥳

I've Got a Few Questions...

Show me a moment where your character has several questions all at once.

#WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts