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The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors
05 January 2022 @ 10:49 am


Prison Break Fanfiction
I write primarily non-shipper general fiction, and some Lincoln/Michael slash pieces as well. Yes, I know they’re brothers… and no, I normally wouldn’t be writing brothercest. That said, if it’s not your thing then please stick to the General Fiction section.

                  Prison Break Gen Fiction                      Prison Break Slash Fiction

Supernatural Fanfiction
Supernatural also deals with two brothers, who in this case are bound together in the pursuit of demons and vengeance. An excellent overview of this show and its characters can be found here.
                  Supernatural Gen Fiction                      Supernatural Slash Fiction

Other Fanfiction: Iron Man, Die Hard 4, Chuck, White Collar, Burn Notice, Reaper, and more

Original Fiction and Non-Fiction Stories: Miscellaneous Original Fiction // Real LJ Idol Season 8 // LJ Idol Exhibit A // LJ Idol Exhibit B // LJ Idol Season 9 // LJ Idol Friends And Rivals // LJ Idol Season 10

The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors
19 February 2019 @ 10:50 am
First off, today is the last day to vote for this week's LJ Idol. My story is here, with a link to the poll at the bottom. Please read and vote for your favorites!

So, the score on yesterday's TODO list was,
Yes: Biking outside, fixing track stand flat, putting away Christmas ornaments, starting sewing work
No: Finishing sewing work, finishing clutter clean-up, calling Mom.

About 50%. Could be worse...

I mentioned yesterday that one of HalfshellHusband's incompetencies is changing bike tires/fixing flats without causing a pinch-flat. It's almost like a negative super-power for him, though he's gotten better. But it's only fair to mention one of my core incompetencies in return.

It's not swallowing exactly, apart from getting the occasional pill stuck in my throat. But it's swallowing-adjacent. Namely, the nexus of swallowing and breathing, and I fear this will only become worse as I get older. :O
  • Trying to drink on bike rides and forgetting that I don't need to (and really, really shouldn't) squeeze the water bottle, resulting in a burst of water into the lungs. And epic hacking to try to get it out.
  • Biting into something like yesterday's tangerine slice and having it squirt juice right into the back of my throat, and partway down the windpipe.
  • Getting distracted while sipping coffee or some other hot beverage, and inhaling it instead of swallowing it. No, really. /o\
  • Basically choking on my own spit because I've breathed in some of it for no particular reason. Sometimes while at the office, no less. Ulhhhhhhh...

  • Seriously. How have I survived this long? \o?

    So, what are YOUR core incompetencies?

    The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors
    18 February 2019 @ 12:10 pm
    Gah. So, despite knowing what I wanted to write about for Idol, it just would not come. I wound up spending the entire day on Saturday finishing my story with about 5 minutes to spare in posting it just before 5pm. /o\

    I knew I would be pleased with the results, but the process? Argh. Why so hard?

    It was supposed to be rainy Saturday, but it unexpectedly cleared and dried up. If I could have finished that story sooner, I would have gone biking! But noOOOoooo. We had plans to go out to dinner Saturday night (late Valentine's Day celebration), and I was out of daylight for biking outside. I went out to the garage to check on the track stand bike, which I'd pumped up twice while riding it the day before. Just as I feared—the rear tire was flat. So I went out for a walk instead (and did at least enjoy a little sunlight), knowing that my weekend TODO list had just gone up by one.

    That bike... its track stand is the worst I've owned, where it's unusually obnoxious to get the bike in and out of the mount. As in, more than 5 minutes of trying to balance it enough to screw down the clamps. When I had to get a new bike, I just dedicated the old one to staying on the track stand 24/7. Fixing the rear tire means getting the bike out of the stand (and back in again later), which I knew would be grief. But not as much as actually fixing the flat!

    Minor bike-related saga continuesCollapse )

    Now it's the last day of a 3-day weekend (one that flew by too quickly). I need to finish getting that tire back on, possibly ride outside (cold and windy today) OR maybe in the garage. Clean up some of the clutter I started dealing with on the last 3-day weekend a month ago. Call my mom. Maybe do some sewing repairs? Already, I can see that list is bigger than the time or energy I have left.

    It also dawned on me yesterday that while I finished boxing the Christmas lights back up on that same weekend, I didn't put them away in the garage. On the high shelf, where the boxes are so heavy I can barely lift them overhead. So that should happen, too. But will it? I could be lucky just to get that stupid tire taken care of, the way things are going! :(

    The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors
    16 February 2019 @ 04:46 pm
    Secret Arts
    idol prize fight | week 16 | 900 words


    Late one winter night, after the moon was gone, a creature named Inkling was born on a wisp of cloud.

    Inkling was a shadow-child, formed from a scrap of Night.

    Night had many lovers, for she was mysterious and beautiful, and Inkling's father was among them. He was Ink, a writer of great passion, and Night was destined to love him. She had always been powerless to resist the magic of anyone who could make words flow like music.

    Night's children were as different as her lovers, all with their own secrets and habits. Suspicion and Doubt were kindred spirits, both fathered by Despair. They lurked in the dark undersides of the world, unpredictable and feared. Their attacks were often fleeting, but for some they were mercilessly difficult to dissuade. They were sometimes seen with Stillness, rumored to be the son of Death.

    Nightmare and Dreamlet were the daughters of Dreaming, and Silence the child of Sleep. Inkling was closer to all three than to his older brother, Jetblack, who was vain and cared only for his own image—a slick rejection of his father's artistic thoughts.

    For Inkling, artistry was everywhere. The world was full of creative opportunities, and he was passionately devoted to bringing them forth.

    Read more...Collapse )

    If you enjoyed this story, you can vote for it along with many other fine entries here.

    The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors
    14 February 2019 @ 02:34 pm
    Sending love to all of you, my wonderful my friends-list. :D


    And if you're not celebrating today, well... 50% off chocolate is an excellent reason to celebrate tomorrow! \o/

    The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors
    12 February 2019 @ 09:57 pm
    The contents of the fridge tell me that HalfshellHusband will be making chicken Tikka Masala soon.

    This version comes from our huge connection of low-calorie recipes. But what's the key ingredient that tipped me off?

    Fat-Free Half-and-Half.


    Isn't Half-and-Half basically half milk and half cream?  HOW CAN THERE BE FAT-FREE CREAM?

    *does not compute*

    The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors
    09 February 2019 @ 11:23 pm
    First, thanks to all who read and voted in Idol! I hope you found some stories you liked. I was off last week, but wrote again this week as we start the Top 20. My story is here, with a link to all the stories at the bottom.

    Second... let's talk cats.

    We went to the county animal shelter last weekend to look at cats, and were surprised to find that they had hardly any. We're looking for a young adult cat, not a kitten, and the last time we were at the shelter (after its major revamp), the place was full of them!

    The volunteer who showed us where to find the two (TWO) adult cats they had said that spring is usually the better time. Which is true if you're looking for kittens, but we didn't think there would be a shortage of other cats. Maybe as more people spay and neuter their pets, there are fewer kittens and more older cats get adopted? I hope?

    We were not interested in the 15-year-old cat or the 10-year-old cat, so we looked at the ones on "stray hold" and there was a sweet little thing who was about 5 months old. Not available for almost a week, and younger than we were really looking for, so... off to view the adoptable cats at Petco and back to online searching for our area.

    We're interested in a little black cat (I know, it may still be too soon) on the Petfinder.com website, but still waiting back to find out how old she is, what her temperament is like, and whether she has any major health problems. For some cats, that information is already shown, but not for all of them. Mainly, we need a short-haired cat (for HalfshellHusband's allergies) who is ideally about 1-3 years old, affectionate, and not FIV-positive. And ideally also not super high-energy. We're open to adopting a bonded pair as well. Still waiting...

    The age and health issues are because of our last cat, who was four when we got her, probably FIV+, and had heart and kidney issues. And wound up being with us only five years. :(

    Now the reason for the subject line, which is a common saying in my profession (software engineering). Periodically, I've looked around on Google to try to find out why Jinx had such a short, tapered little nose (which made it hard for her to breathe), and bumpy ridge on her forehead, and such a stocky little body. Last weekend, I stumbled upon something that indicated some of those traits point to breed-specific results for Bombay cats. She wasn't a purebred, obviously (with her belly more sable than black), but so many of her weirdnesses fit that breed!

    That little nose—I've never seen a cat before with such a tiny nose, or one that tapered toward the bottom like that. The stocky build (Bombays are bred to look like little leopards). How heavy she was when we first got her—a medium-sized cat of 13 pounds, and not especially overweight. Bringing her home in her cardboard box was like transporting a bowling ball—the bottom of the box sagged.

    The trilling purr with notes, like this kitten, but more volume and more musical range.

    The obsessive devotion to one particular person (here, our son, whom she picked as Her Boy at the animal shelter) is typical too, though that could just be personality.

    From the pictures on that page for Jinx, you can see the short little muzzle in profile. It isn't the pushed-in face of a Persian or Burmese, and her nose isn't turned up, but it's just oddly different from most cats. All that time I was wondering where that came from, and it looks like it was a side-effect of a deliberately created breed.

    There's still no explanation for that forehead ridge. Other things, like still being playful at age 6, and the sneaky-smartness that led to her hiding in closed cupboards and opening doors... we'll never know whether that was the breed or just her, but she was a beauty and a character and a half, and we sure miss her. ♥

    The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors
    09 February 2019 @ 03:24 pm
    A Fresh Perspective
    idol prize fight | week 15 | 1000 words


    Marty Bartlett wanted to be a writer. In other words, he had ideas he wanted to foist off on the general public.

    For money.

    He was not alone—many people shared the same dream. In fact, the Internet was full of books and online courses with titles like, "Novel-Writing By Numbers," "Financial Backing: Fleecing Your Friends And Family," and "Oh, So You Really Think You're All That?"

    Marty, who had tried many of those books and courses himself, was convinced he had what it took to achieve greatness! There was just a small problem in that… well, he hadn't managed to pull it off yet.

    He had the time to devote to writing, and he had all sorts of ideas, he was sure of it. But no matter what he did, none of them ever seemed to add up to an actual story.

    Marty tried creativity exercises, mindful dreaming, and long walks along the river. He made a nice welcoming space in his house just for writing, and when that didn't work he took his laptop to a coffee shop, a car wash, and a duck pond to see if that helped. The results were underwhelming.

    He used a recording app on his cellphone to capture his thoughts on the go. Many of those thoughts seemed to be grocery-related, but the concept had merit. Besides, it was so easy to get distracted.

    One day, Marty was busy mashing words together to form some kind of plot for a book. He took a short break to get something from the car, and as soon as he stepped off the porch, a bright blue thing with wings and a tiny little face flew right at him and nearly hit him in the head.

    "Gah!" Marty yelled, ducking out of its path as it bombarded him with an explosion of glittering dust.

    "Sorry!" he thought he heard it shriek, which was ridiculous.

    "Note to self," he gasped into his phone, "check the shed for bats! And take the pants in for dry-cleaning on Monday."

    Ugh. At least it hadn't gotten in his hair.

    Read more...Collapse )

    If you enjoyed this story, you can vote for it along with many other fine entries here.

    The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors
    30 January 2019 @ 06:22 pm
    Thanks to those of you who read and voted in the last round of therealljidol! We need more readers and voters, so that really helps.

    In case you were wondering about the Tigger poll the other day, that came about because of two conversations I used to repeatedly have with HalfshellHusband, back when we still had Tigger and The Whale (who was a ginormous tuxedo cat):

    Number 1,
    HalfshellHusband: Which one is Tigger? I can never remember.
    Me: The stripey one. :O

    Number 2, often on the heels of Number 1,
    HSH: Which one is the little gray cat?
    Me: We don't have a gray cat!

    The final jolt was that I was organizing some of the kids' old artwork and school projects, and I came across something our daughter wrote in the first grade where she described Tigger as a gray cat, and then used brown, tan, and black crayons to draw a picture of her! \o?

    For the record, Tigger was a brown tabby cat, a 'spotted tabby' to be precise.

    But there were several people who answered that she was gray, so my husband clearly is not the only one who thinks that!

    The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors
    28 January 2019 @ 05:59 pm
    We're at 7 1/2 weeks of being a catless household, and getting antsy. Before losing Jinx, we'd had at least one cat for the last 30+ years.

    Usually, we would wait longer before thinking about a replacement, but we are both definitely ready. Our local shelter is only open 12-4:30 on weekends, so we're going to have to pick a rainy day when neither of us wants to go bicycling, and go over and meet potential new pets. Our limitations are short-haired cats (HalfshellHusband is kind of allergic to cats, but can tolerate ones with less fur), and ideally about 1-2 years old (so, no kittens).

    Our other likely limitation might be not getting a cat that looks like other cats we've already had. At this point, I think I could handled a Holstein-colored cat (like the one we lost about 16 years ago). But probably not one resembling the more recent cats. On the fence about black cats, since people tend not to want to adopt them (we have no issue with black cats!), but that is also what our last kitty looked like. No idea how we might feel in the moment, though.

    But speaking of coat colors, let's have a poll:


    This ^.^ is Tigger, a very sweet kitty we lost about 6 years ago.

    What color is Tigger?

    Not gray, WTF, are you kidding me?

    There is actually a common description for this kind of cat. What is it?


    Yes please!
    So cute.
    Wait, is that the Grinch?

    The Third Wife is not helping my problem here, as the main character has a cat he wants to rehome, and it's eating away at me...

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