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Grilled Cheese is a product of Village Compute

Version devBuilt at: 2026-10-16 08:00:47 EDT

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Black and White drawing of a woman in pants and boots, with an exposed midriff and a short leather jacket. She has a gun in either hand and a determined look on her face. There are cracks all over her skin, and she has fairy-like wings.

The orderlies failed in their attempt to corner the lizard, which deftly ran around them and out the door, the two men in fast pursuit. The doctor completed her checkup and left. Gary found his phone on the bedside table and typed in a message to Scott:
“It was all a bit hazy last night. I'm not sure what hospital I'm in, or even which town. I've a shrewd notion it's the Franz Kafka Memorial but I'll ask and let you know. If you can make it, please come and see me before I turn into a giant bug. If you can't get in, ask a lizard. They'll know.”
The message came back almost straight away:
“Look up!”
Gary looked up and saw that Scott was in the doorway.
“That was quick,” said Gary.
Scott chuckled. “I never left. If anyone asks, I'm your brother. I didn't think they'd let me stay if I wasn't family.”

Sorrel smiled dumbly up at the roof of his tent. Only one side of his vision was clear, the other was fuzzy. But that didn't matter. He would have gladly gone blind for that. Permanent eye damage wasn't new to him anyway.
Lu's face came mostly into view with a proud, crooked grin. He fixed Sorrel's glasses (his vision came back fully into focus) before softly kissing him several times, cradling his face with his palm.

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For a moment, she could have sworn she heard their heartbeats, the breath whistling in their lungs. Then her own thudding heart overrode whatever noise had deceived her.
The group stared at her, then someone with watery blue eyes, pasty skin and graying hair raised an eyebrow.
"Even awake, she don't look like much."
Another with lanky dark brown hair and sallow skin snickered. "Can't imagine why anyone'd want a girl who looks like the back of a toilet."
Paige's head felt like it was floating away, miles away from her body. Dammit. I can't let these goons get the best of me. She bit the inside of her lip hard, hoping the pain would clear her mind. As she grimaced, the fuzz in her mind finally starting to clear, the goateed goon with brown eyes sighed.
"Who are we to say otherwise? The ways of Her Holiest aren't for us to know." The goon pointed at the one with the graying hair. "Now go get him."
The graying goon spit on the floor, then skulked out the door.

- From NO SKY LIKE MIDNIGHT, by Nora Shear

The word "fuzz" is in bold pink text. There are star decorations in each corner and a meteor decoration above the text.

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Besides, thinking was somewhat beyond her, at the moment. Her head throbbed. Actually, her entire body throbbed, her head was just the worst offender.
Fox tried to sit up, but couldn’t quite muster the strength to do so, so instead she sank back onto the bed with a groan.
There was a scrape of chair legs on stone and a moment later Av’ry appeared at the bars, a stern-faced guard shadowing his steps.
“You’re finally awake! You really had me worried this time, Fox,” he said.
“I’m not dead, then?” she croaked. “I wasn’t certain.”
“Not quite. Though it was a close thing.”
She could tell. Heavy-duty healing left a mark, and she had been subjected to it often enough to recognize the familiar ache. Not just the mending of a trifling wound, either. Someone with skill had reached into her every vein, power burning through her like a wildfire.
It wasn’t an experience she would ever recommend. It was better than being dead, but only by the slimmest of margins. If you had a low pain tolerance, it could easily tip the other way.
“What exactly happened? I’m a little fuzzy on the details.”

He pinches the light with his thumb and forefinger and stretches it, putty-like, until it’s long and fibrous. Then he loops it over his finger and shapes it into a tiny knot.
He flicks it in my face.
I sputter and sneeze. My head fills with a warm, fuzzy glow.
“What’s the Moth King planning?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” my mouth replies.
Shit. My brain did not authorize those words.

WIPSnips a bluesky writing community tag
October 10 - fuzzy
Share a line from your WIP with the daily word for inspiration
Use #WIPSnips. Don't forget Alt Text for graphics
Synonyms, variation and vibes are fine.
Support others on the #WIPSnips tag!
Hosted by rosie-j-potter.bsky.social

The image behind the text is a border that is dark blue with gold stars with a black background with neon blue border. An illustrated caticorn holding a pencil and writing in a book with a rose behind one ear is in the lower right corner. A different version of the same illustrated caticorn is curled up writing in the lower left corner

Anime character Kyo Sohma from Fruits Basket sitting in a crouch while engulfed in exaggerated flames. Used to represent Rein's external appearance: stubborn, guarded, tired, and perpetually one inconvenience away from physically combusting.

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#WIPSnips prompt: raid

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One part of Leo's mind was focused on getting Paige out. The other part was gnawing on how everything had gone from bad, to worse, to catastrophic.
Venatori. Here. Now, of all times.
Leo had run into Venatori before. The religious order had been established millennia before he'd gone through his passage to post-mortal. Alder had shared that the Venatori hunted anyone even tangentially associated with post-mortals.
Leo hadn't really understood. Not until they killed the entire human village that had been helping him and Alder.
He'd barely escaped the ambush the Venatori had set. But he’d lost control in his efforts to avoid their trapwires and hidden blades, his wings setting fire to the houses. Somehow the Venatori had been expecting his fire, and had doused the remaining houses with some kind of accelerant. The fleeing people had been...
Leo forced the memory away. His wounds hadn't healed for months, but it was nothing compared to the torture the humans had suffered.

- from NO SKY LIKE MIDNIGHT, by Nora Shear

The word "Ambush" is in bold pink font. There are star decorations in each corner and a meteor decoration above the text.

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“No,” the doctor insisted. “Staying here is suicide. Getting up is trying.”

“Trying to die.”

Nat was back on her knees. Her face was stern, the blue eyes glittering with annoyance. “So what you’re telling me Vola Falone, is that you survived down here for days, killed a full-grown lizard with one eye shut, cracked their map with no resources, still managed to find the exit...and now you’re ready to give up?” Vola shrank at the judgement and disappointment on the normally-kind face. “Get the fuck up.”

“I--”

“Some psycho metal band was playing. Frontwoman was a demon that somehow got past the city wards. They’re saying some fan got alone time with the singer and beat her to death. Once they found the body, the city swarmed in and cracked down on the place hard. Word on the street is they’re still trying to figure out how a demon got past the protection wall. But now Wali’s on extra alert because he’s afraid the Cutting Room crowd is gonna be looking for a new place to hunt.” Leo shook his head. “Never did like that place. Plus they serve Vultures.” He turned his head to spit, then caught Amanda’s death glare and turned it into a cough.