#ThursThreads – Tying Tales Together – week 583

Welcome back to the home of #ThursThreads. Wow. Year 11. Holy smokes! Y’all kept with me past a decade. I’m astounded.

Today is Thursday and that means it’s time to start flashing, like we have for the past 11 years. I had no idea when I started it would keep going! This is Week 583 of #ThursThreads, the challenge that ties tales together. Want to keep up each week? Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook and the Group on MeWe.

Need the rules? Read on.

Here’s how it works:

  • The prompt is a line from the previous week’s winning tale.
  • The prompt can appear ANYWHERE in your story and is included in your word count.
  • The prompt must be used as is. It can be split, but no intervening words can be inserted or tenses changed.

Rules to the Game:

  • This is a Flash Fiction challenge, which means your story must be a minimum of 100 words, maximum of 250.
  • The story must be new writing, not a snippet from something published elsewhere with the prompt added.
  • Incorporate the prompt anywhere into your story (included in your word count).
  • Post your story in the comments section of this post
  • Include your word count in the post (or be excluded from judging)
  • Include your social media handle or email in the post (so we easily notify you)
  • The challenge is open 7 AM to 8 PM Mountain Time
  • The winner will be announced on Friday, depending on how early the judge gets up.

How it benefits you:

  • You get a nifty cool badge to display on your blog or site (because we’re all about promotion – you know you are!)
  • You get instant recognition of your writing prowess on this blog!
  • Your writing colleagues shall announce and proclaim your greatness on Facebook, Bluesky, MeWe, and Mastodon, etc.

Our Judge for Week 583:

Lover of Words, Creative Writing MA, and Interracial Paranormal and Contemporary Romance Author, Nikki Prince.

Facebook | Goodreads |

And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

“Try not to look so threatening.”

All stories written herein are the property (both intellectual and physical) of the authors. Comments do not represent the views of the host and the host reserves the right to remove any content. Now, away with you, Flash Fiction Fanatics, and show us your #ThursThreads. Good luck!

12 Replies to “#ThursThreads – Tying Tales Together – week 583”

  1. Revised version:


    He was ready to leave. To head home. June had given him all the information she was willing to give. There was always more, though. Stuff buried deep, so far below the surface that extracting it was more painful them keeping it secret.

    One more foray, he decided. Tonight anyways. He was on her side, her emissary, the gatherer of facts that would allow her and her children to be whole.

    Safe, as well.

    “June,” he started slowly, softly, “I’ve been doing this a while. I know somethings just never get said. Or maybe said too late. What aren’t you telling me? Trusting me to tell me?”

    Danny wasn’t expecting much. She looked away, said “no,” turned towards him, said, “yes,” sat down, said, “Maybe it was the war.”

    She paused and he said, “Ted was born in ’29. Too young to fight.”

    She nodded. “Yes. He didn’t go. Lawrence, his cousin, Larry, like an older brother. He went. Was killed.”

    “That obviously impacted him,” he said.

    “Not always. Bad dreams every so often. And…”

    “And…?” he asked.

    “A sort of a simmering anger. Ted is really able to control his emotions quite well, but sometimes little things stupid things will set him off. He’ll suddenly get angry, twisted, and try not to look so threatening, no more than normal; he looks so normal most of the time…but something takes hold…”

    “Has he ever struck you?”

    “No. But he makes fists, grabbed me twice…”

    Like a volcano, Danny thought.

    250 revised WIP

  2. “I hired you as a bodyguard to keep people from accosting me. I didn’t mean to have you totally scaring them off.” The young woman stared at Misau over the edge of the ivory fan, waving it in front of her face slowly. “Try not to look so threatening. I’m supposed to be aloof.”

    “Yes ma’am.”

    “Ugh, don’t say ma’am. That makes me sound…old.” A grimace at that thought.

    Misau stepped back, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. It was going to be a long night. She settled in her spot behind where the woman sat, scanning the crowded room. Everyone came to wish the woman a happy birthday but her gaze locked on the next in line. The man waiting was made up more than the women, curled hair, rogued cheeks and enough perfume to choke a stable of horses. But his own bodyguard was the predator with the sharp grin, blood red eyes and the horns no one could see. And there might have been a tail. The lack of reaction meant that he had a glamour up or everyone would have taken off hours ago.

    Shit. So much for a fluff job. She needed to be as threatening as he was, without the supernatural abilities. She needed to make sure that there weren’t any casualties.

    219 words

  3. “Try not to look so threatening,” Igor said, adjusting the monster’s neck bolts. “Women prefer tall, dark, and handsome, so you’re already a third of the way there. And after I give you a spray tan, you’ll be fighting the ladies off.” He topped up the atomiser’s reservoir with teak oil and gave it a quick pump.

    “I’m not sure that it’s me,” the monster said, his features mournful and grey. “And I don’t really think people will notice if you turn me Malibu bronze. I’m a big lunk, wearing a pair of divers’ boots, covered with scars.”

    “But scars are cool. You could say you were schooled at Heidelberg, and they’re from duelling. You can already do an accent – you’ll just have to thicken it up, interchange your w’s with v’s, and avoid discussing the war if it ever comes up. Just speak like the Master does. Use him as a role model.”

    The monster looked doubtful, but he was obedient, even if it was an Igor addressing him. He shrugged his jacket from his shoulders and dropped his pants.

    Igor gazed up at the Baron’s creation, surveying the bulk of him. He had legs like Palladian columns and a torso that looked like it had been quarried and hewn from marble.

    And then there was something else, rearing up and almost poking his eye out.

    “Maybe if I adjust the cut of your pants,” Igor said, swearing under his breath. “I’ve a feeling that might be enough.”

    250 words – twothirdzrasta.blogspot.com

  4. Maura backed up then chided herself mentally. Hot shot prosecutor, remember? Yes, yes she was and she refused to let this man intimidate her. Or scare the bejeezus out of the woman they’d come to question. This expedition would likely fail. “Worst idea ever,” she muttered. Louder, she said, “Can you do me a favor?”
    Ronan stared but didn’t speak, waiting for her to continue.

    Ignoring the foreboding feeling, she sucked it up. “Try not to look so threatening.”

    “I don’t look threatening.”

    Was he amused? She had seen one corner of his mouth twitch. “You look like a serial killer.”

    “But this is my happy face,” he said, completely deadpan.

    A gigglesnort erupted and she covered her mouth and nose with her hand. “That’s it, bucko. No more Tommy Lee Jones movies for you.”

    This time, there was no doubt that the corners of his mouth curled up and she caught the twinkle in his blue eyes.

    He leaned in close and murmured in her ear. “And how are ya gonna keep me from watchin’ ’em? Ya plannin’ on bein’ shackled t’me twenty-four seven?”

    And why did that idea send excited shivers through her whole body? She turned her head just enough to whisper in his ear. “I’d prefer to just see you handcuffed to the bed.”

    She stepped back and caught the flash of feral red followed by gold in his eyes. It wasn’t a trick of light. “What are you?” she asked, not for the first time.
    250 Moonstruck Mafia: Boston Wolves WIP words

  5. The following two days were much the same. She flew over the mountains and headed toward the ocean. She spent the nights on the ground, on a wooden platform the machines made for her.

    The third day brought her to the ocean, and when she headed along the coastline, the mountains faded away, and the sand of the beach returned.

    On the fourth day, Sunshine found something different. Something new. A fishing boat, with a few men on it. She flew over the boat, and watched as the men on the boat panicked, grabbed bows and arrows, and shot at her.

    “What the heck did I do to set them off?” she wondered.

    The machines answered, “You scared them. They’ve never seen a fairy before.”

    “They’ve never seen a fairy?”

    “We haven’t changed everyone.”

    “Oh.” She flew out of arrow range, “Those are original human descendants?”


    “How can I talk to them?”

    “Try not to look so threatening.”

    Sunshine landed on the beach, still within sight of the boat, and the men. She stared into her reflection on the surface of the water, distorted as it was. “It’s the wings, isn’t it? They’re scared of my wings.”

    There was no way to hide her wings. She simply looked different from the men, and she guessed from their women. A winged demon, flying at their boat. She’d have to figure out how to not scare them to be able to talk to them. If they spoke the same language.

    249 Words

  6. “Alexander, you have resting bitch face; try not to look so threatening,” my sister, Ellie said fixing my crooked tie.
    “How do you do?” Louisa introduced herself.
    “Please take the photo now,” Ellie demanded of the photographer, Louisa.
    “The picture didn’t turn out. Let me try again, ”Louisa complained.
    “I told you this wouldn’t take.”
    “It’ Hallowe’en. I want a picture.”
    “I’ll try again,” Louisa stated.
    Focusing her camera, she clicked over and over again. Checking out her picture through her lens, she glanced back at us and she smiled.
    I smiled, I felt truly alive in her gaze, She was truly beautiful and then in a second her eyes grew darker and hollow and her lips non existent, I realized with fear this wasn’t Louisa.
    “Fooled you, didn’t I.?”
    “No,” Ellie replied.
    “You two escaped me before, but I’m here to collect you.”
    “Dona Morte aka Catrina?”
    “Come along now, you two, no more haunting and scaring the living.”
    “I don’t want to go this is our home,” Ellie complained.
    “No, this is your great nephew’s, Daniel’s home.”
    “We’ve been scaring baby, Danny?” Ellie stated surprised.
    “The house will be in good shape with Danny let’s go,” I commanded.
    “Can we have one last scare tonight?’
    “Sure, I’ll join you might be fun.”
    The first one is at the door.
    “Trick or treat,” they shout then they see Dona, Ellie and I the eyes go round they scream and run. Dona Morte is right this is fun, Happy Hallowe’en!
    250 words @SweetSheil

  7. Shinrin ushered the last of his fellow priests onto what he hoped was a trail to freedom. A guard was raising the alarm. Their rescuer drew two small swords from behind her back to face the guard. Slingstones hailed in around them. Shinrin felt a sharp crack against the back of his head.

    The towering priest turned slowly.

    “Who threw that?”

    He stepped toward the oncoming tigerlings, holding a hand out to his side with a prayer to the forest. A branchlike staff sprouted from the earth into that hand.

    “Now that looked cool! I bet these guys are scared now!”

    Their rescuer chuckled as she impaled the first guard and used his body for cover to pivot her other sword into the next opponent. Shinrin stepped up next to her and smacked another enemy across the face with his staff.

    Arrows navigated the night sky, inhibiting the approach of the massing tigerlings. Little time remained before the last two elves were overwhelmed.

    The enemy silently parted to reveal a proud, beauteous woman, neither tigerling nor elf. By her side, a musclebound fiend large enough to dwarf even the exceptionally tall Shinrin.

    “That’s not good.”

    “Maybe next time try not to look so threatening.”

    “Fall back!”

    Another woman’s voice preceded the next arrow. An arrow that stopped midair before crumbling to dust shy of the enemy enchantress’s right eye. Shinrin grit his teeth.

    “You go first. I won’t let you suffer for saving us.”

    “Don’t have to tell me twice!”

    250 Tale of Tenko words
    @DavidALudwig on Bluesky

  8. For a moment, neither of them said anything, and Allira wondered who he was. He wasn’t one of this year’s crop of ‘heroes’, but he didn’t look worn and grizzled like anyone from previous years. He looked young, fit, capable, and seasoned without being old.

    “Good morning. Can I help you?”

    That seemed like as good an opener as any, though she wasn’t sure how she could help someone who looked at home near the Tombs.

    He laughed, though it never reached his eyes. “I believe that’s my question.”

    She blinked. “Do I look like I need help?”

    He shrugged. “Mayhap not, but usually all the warriors who come to this place are looking for something.”

    “Oh.” She scowled and nodded. “Yeah, that’s not really my thing. I’m just watching the horses.”

    He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “You’re just here to watch the horses?”

    She nodded. “Yup.”

    “Have you no interest in the treasure of the Tombs?”

    She shook her head. “Nope.”

    He scoffed. “I find that hard to believe. Are you not a warrior yourself?”

    She tilted her head. “Oh yeah, I’m definitely a warrior, but I’m not interested in entering the Tombs. That’s for idiots and fools.”

    He laughed again, this time with more amusement. “Strange sentiment for a warrior with a short sword on one hip and a long dagger on the other.”

    “Yeah, well, I totally try not to look so threatening.” She rolled her eyes. “Who are you?”

    The knight hesitated. “I’m called Josten.”

    250 ineligible #WIP words

  9. Kiss the Cook

    Standing with. a grill in front of him and the sun on his shoulders, Cal couldn’t help but smile. This is what all the hardships and fighting were for–to build and protect, to nurture and feed.

    He carefully closed the lid, and moved to the second, smaller grill. there he checked on the skewers of veggies and tofu, While still warm, there was something about the food that just made him shiver. His stomach roiled at the thought of no meat. It was just–wrong.

    “Dad, I got this, you tend to the main grill I’ll handle the vegan side.”

    He looked down at his little girl and smiled. She wasn’t that little anymore and the vegan offerings had been her idea. He watched as she deftly turned the skewers and laughed at his expression.

    “A man who can face off a demon and sleep soundly the same night should be able to face vegan shiskabobs” she teased.

    “Ain’t natural,” he commented as he looked pointedly at the boy who’d come calling. Part of him felt sorry for the kid, but he’d run the gauntlet of uncles and aunties to make it this farl.

    “Oh, Daddy,” May sighed shaking her head. “Try not to look so threatening.”

    Cal held his hands out in a helpless gesture, pointing to the ‘kiss’ the cook apron he was wearing.

    “Dad,” she sighed. “it would be a lot less threatening if there weren’t a swamp monster chasing a sasquatch on it.”

    Cal smiled.

    250 words not including title

  10. I am not a people person. But I have to work, so I can do important things like, I don’t know, eat. Have a roof over my head. Important shit like that.

    Customer service sucks, because people can be so stupid and rude and gah! But it pays the bills, I can eat, and I’m not sleeping in my car.

    “Excuse me.”

    Oh boy. An LOL, as we say in the business. A little old lady. She’s holding out a cell phone, one that looks like it might not even work after all these years.

    I put on my best smile.

    “How may I help you?”

    She takes a step back. Is it my height? I’m average for a woman, neither fat nor skinny, a little chunky, broad in the shoulders and hips.

    “I can’t hear a blessed thing when the kids call.”

    I accept the old phone and easily unlock it. Calling our ‘can you hear me now?’ line helps me figure out the issue.

    “You had the volume on mute. I can show you how to fix it if it ever happens again.”

    Her eighty-year-old eyes widen and I try to maintain my pleasant smile.

    “You can fix it.”

    I charge her sixty dollars and she walks out slightly less friendly than at the start of the visit. One of my techs walks over.

    “Scared another one off?”


    “Try not to look so threatening.”

    She returns to her workstation and I frown. Do I look threatening?

    249 words

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