Tumgik
#bugs apparently like me so much that they are constantly hitching a ride on me
knifegremliin · 10 months
Text
what is UP with me finding bugs on the back of my neck/shoulders because they climbed or landed on me outside and i didn't notice. i just found a fucking ant on the back of my neck? girl when did you get there? like, i love bugs, so i'm not really mad about it but i am a little annoyed because i just sat down and then i had to get back up to take you outside. don't do that.
4 notes · View notes
noxcorvorum · 1 month
Text
On the topic of sandworms
(dune part 2 spoilers kindof)
@the-void-has-questions speculative biology <3
Anyone else questioning how sandworms work in dune?
I mean, they call like 7 to one location at least twice in the second movie, which just isn't how megafauna work
You simply aren't going to get more than one megafauna in such a small area, much less 7 hanging around in close enough range to feel the thumpers spaced like a small dune part each, especially since they're described as territorial (the fremen at the water of life area says that there can't be more than one in each sand pool or else they'll fight)
Also do the fremen have to be constantly making thumpers bc they seem pretty single use, it seems like the sandworm either eats it or the thumper gets buried in its wake
Also what do they eat??? It seems like they would expend a lot of energy moving around like they do, and I don't think we've seen any sort of fauna that could sustain that on arrakis besides *maybe* the spiders and centipedes stilgar mentioned (granted it's been a while since I've read the book and I only read the first one so. yeah)
They could be getting some kind of nutrient from something in the sand, like metals??? Or something???? (It's scifi idk) But the kind of teeth they have doesn't feel suited to that kind of thing, unless they use it as a filter like whales with baleen? And anyway that's kinda disproven with the fact that they're attracted to the vibrations of footsteps, thumpers, etc so to me it has to be some kind of fauna
And why let themselves be steered? They could just go underground/roll and shake the disturbance off, unless the thing the hooks do by lifting up a flap of skin would then cause sand to get inside and be an irritant, but they spend most of their time underground anyway, and the way theyre kind of segmented to have armor but also allow turns makes me think they would kind of get sand everywhere anyway so ???
(I think sandworm pearls/something similar could be a cool concept but now that I think about it idk how that would work bc it's under the skin and not inside like it would be in a clam but I digress)
Do they have some sort of. infinite energy source??? We never see any of them eat any kind of large prey, just piles of bodies and perhaps live humans, and with the speed at which they move through the sand (a substance notorious for being at least slightly difficult to move quickly through), And with the way they comply with the fremen hitching rides, they would have to have an extremely efficient way of using nutrients/energy to be able to keep that up
---------
Ok after some googling (sandworm Wikipedia page)
they're whales. (kinda)
They apparently eat "sand plankton" and the teeth filter it out of the sand
The way they get steered is that the worms turn to that the exposed skin underneath the lifted segment is on the top so it doesn't get sand in it
Also water is really poisonous to them which is interesting so they prefer not to eat live humans
The big one that Paul called in part 2 was apparently at least 1.5 miles/2.4 km long
Actually wait I'm not done.
The fremen learned how to sandwalk from watching the desert fauna not get eaten by sandworms. What fauna did they watch?? The only creatures on arrakis mentioned in the movies and what I recall from the first book are humans, sandworms, kangaroo mice, and the centipedes/spiders
The kangaroo mice are too small to make strong enough vibrations and too small to be worth the effort of hunting, so they wouldn't need to walk in a specific way
The bugs seem to me like they'd be underground most of the time and when theyre aboveground probably hostile to humans so not much chance for the fremen to watch what they do
How do sandworms propel themselves? They aren't corkscrewing or inching, and they don't have limbs to burrow with
I fear it is the "the sand is going directly through their bodies" explanation.
What eats the kangaroo mice? The giant bugs?
What do the kangaroo mice eat? The damn Sand Plankton?
Where do the fremen get materials for all their gear? Wouldn't mining for the metal make vibrations that would tip off the sandworms? Do they just. steal it from the atreides/harkonnens?
Tldr: please god I want more worldbuilding what is happening biologically on this planet
2 notes · View notes
soitmightgetweird · 7 years
Text
Close Quarters
Bucky x reader
Summary: Your day goes from bad to worse when your car breaks down after a messy mission and you end up stuck with the one team member you always fight with.
Warnings: swearing, arguing, self-doubt. a side character tries to get rough with you (they do not succeed, but it might still be tough to read).
Word Count: 3048. Wow.
A/N: This one has been sitting in waiting for a while. I’ve been really hesitant to post it because it’s different from everything else I’ve posted so far. I hope it’s okay.
Tumblr media
"I am blaming this disaster of a day fully on you," the man in your passenger seat grumbled.
Great.
Not only was the mission way more complicated than it should've been, you were currently sitting helpless as your car slowed to a stop in the middle of nowhere. You thought you'd repaired the gas gauge but apparently it was only a temporary fix. So you just sat in the driver seat with a hurt expression as your car completely betrayed you by not telling you it was low on gasoline, leaving you stuck on some mostly deserted back road with the one team member you didn't get along with.
"That's not fair," you said, glancing over as Bucky crossed his arms and slouched down in the seat.
"Life's not fair, buttercup."
You hated that he did that--called you names that would've been cute under different circumstances. Frustration bubbled up as you looked to your passenger seat. "Well maybe if you hadn't been constantly griping over there, I might've noticed it had been a while since we last stopped."
"Whatever. It was stupid to take a car anyway."
You huffed and brought your hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose. "The jet would've been too obvious; we discussed this."
"Maybe I should've just tried harder to get paired with anyone else instead."
The sudden sting of tears behind your eyes was completely unwelcome, leading you to twist around to grab your bag out of the backseat, desperate to get away before your emotions got the best of you.
No one knew you'd been struggling lately with being on the team. Truth be told, you didn't really want to bug anyone with your insecurities. It wasn't the physical strain; you could manage the fighting. Your head was the problem. You were spending too much of your down time focusing on all the things you could've done better during missions. And it wasn't a quick reflection when you returned home; it was laying in bed for hours wondering why you made the decisions you did and why they were probably wrong. It didn't matter that no one else seemed to doubt you (aside from Bucky), it was still how you felt.
Maybe you requested field work too soon. Perhaps you should just go back to working in the compound. And dammit it hurt to hear your teammate shit on you, even if there was never positive interactions with that person anyway.
You cut your eyes at him as you grabbed the handle on your door. "You're an asshole, you know that?" The next second, you were climbing out and slamming the door behind you before stomping off down the road.
The disaster of a mission you'd just completed played over and over in your head as you stalked down the road. Sure you got the intel you needed but that was about the only thing that went right. You had a killer headache from getting smacked with the butt of a gun, your ankle hurt a bit from getting kicked during a fight, your burner phone and comms were fried courtesy of a short-range EMP blast, and you were leaving your car on the side of a dirt road and hoping there was a vacancy in the sketchy little motel you passed ten miles back.
Ugh. Just the thought of walking ten miles with all your gear slung over your shoulders made you want to scream.
The sound of insects and a light breeze surrounded you until you heard a car door slamming in the distance. Guessing Bucky was finally following you, you kept walking without glancing back.
He finally fell into step beside you a mile later. Neither of you said a word, which was fine with you. With as much tension as there was between you, the conversation probably would've quickly escalated to screaming anyway.
Night had fallen by the time you both made it to the decrepit looking motel. You really didn't want to stay there, but you'd seen exactly zero vehicles on the road as you made the trek from your car so there'd been no opportunity to hitch a ride.
The room was tiny and reeked of mothballs and lemon furniture polish. There was a hideous orange and brown couch that was probably 40 years old next to a small table with a chipped laminate top. Little brass lamps sat on the bedside tables and bathed the room in a dull yellow glow. Faded curtains hung in front of the window, so at least the room offered privacy if nothing else.
One bed. Wonderful...
You jumped when Bucky tossed his bag on the couch then stalked across the room and flopped onto the bed, turning onto his side and away from you.
"Turn on the air, would ya?" he called over his shoulder.
"Would it kill you to say please?" you shot back as you walked over and pressed a button on the ancient looking window unit. It made an awful rattling sound that you were almost positive meant it was about to explode, but then it clicked a couple times and cold air began blowing into the room.
Looking across, you saw there was enough room on the bed for you to lay down as well. Most likely not a conscious decision on Bucky's part. His breath caught when you sat down behind him.
You were genuinely surprised that the phone had a dial tone when you picked up the receiver. Calling the compound, you left a message with FRIDAY detailing where you were and what had happened. The AI informed you that everyone else was still on their own mission, but she'd pass the message along as soon as the comms opened again.
Bucky was quiet the whole time, and hoping that meant he would continue to keep his mouth shut, you turned the lamp off and curled onto the bed facing away from him, your knees slightly hanging off the edge.
"Um. What are you doing?"
So much for silence.
"I'm tired, Barnes, and I'm not sleeping on that couch. I don't move much, so I won't touch you or anything. Just... leave me alone, please?"
Of course you weren't able to sleep. It shouldn't have been a surprise, considering the day you had.
Bucky's breathing evened out within ten minutes of silence and darkness and you were more than a little jealous that he was able to calm the thoughts in his head enough to rest.
After an hour of staring at the ceiling, you eased off the bed and padded over to where you'd dropped your bag. You removed layers of clothing until you were just in underwear and your tank top then pulled on a pair of cotton shorts. Maybe you'd sleep if you were more comfortable.
Much to your dismay, the pajamas didn't help and you still couldn't clear your head enough to doze off. To add to the moment, the little window unit finally decided it'd had enough and powered down. Five minutes later, the room felt stuffy and miserable.
With a defeated sigh, you got out of bed again and grabbed the little bucket next to the sink. You remembered seeing an ice machine in the breezeway between the two sections of the motel. With any luck it actually worked and would at least solve one of the problems.
You grabbed the key and crept out of the room, trying to be as quiet as possible. Just because you and Bucky didn't get along didn't mean you wanted to wake him up if you could avoid it. You knew he'd struggled with sleep for a while too.
See, I can be considerate sometimes.
The little bucket was almost full of ice when your body was suddenly shoved against the machine. You let out a grunt as the bucket fell to the ground, scattering the ice you'd collected. Before you had a chance to react, your arms were wrenched behind you and gathered in a strong, vice-like grip.
"What d'you say you come back to my room with me, sweetheart?" your attacker sneered in a gravely voice.
You shuddered as his breath fanned across your neck when he leaned closer. "What do you say you fuck off and you won't regret this?" you growled back, glancing at the man over your shoulder.
The man hummed. "Well, at least this'll be fun."
As soon as he started to drag you backwards, you brought both legs up to the ice machine and pushed against it with all the force you could muster. The pair of you stumbled backwards until he collided with the wall behind him with a loud thud. The air left his lungs in a harsh cough and his grip loosened just enough for you to pull your wrists away.
You'd barely taken two steps when his hand grabbed the back of your tank top and pulled. A sharp cry of pain left your lips as he kicked at your ankle, taking you to the ground. You threw your palms out and kept your face from colliding with the rough concrete, but you still felt the scrape against your palms and knees. You managed to kick back and made contact with his thigh, making him stumble back once more, but the lull in the fight was short as he came back at you once more.
The man reached down and grabbed your arm, hoisting you onto your feet. You'd barely regained your sense of balance when you were shoved forward into the ice machine again. He was moving much faster than you expected, and that paired with your exhaustion meant you weren't fighting as well as you should've been.
You turned around, arm raised and prepared to deliver a punch, but his fist connected with your stomach first. You gasped as the breath left your lungs. A lightheaded feeling washed over your body and felt your knees give out. The next moment, the man had wrapped a hand around your neck and lifted you back into a standing position. You pushed at his chest but were too weak to put any distance between you and you were too close to move your legs up to kick at him.
His grip tightened and you gasped. Spots were creeping into your vision from the sides and you felt yourself starting to panic. Bringing your hands up, you desperately alternated between trying to loosen his grip and clawing at his wrists. You reached for his face, hoping you could jab his eye or do something to surprise him enough that he'd drop you but the restricted air flow and fatigue were working against you.
There was a flash in your mind as you cursed everything that went wrong throughout the day from the mission to your car to the ten mile walk with a pain in the ass to your lack of sleep to this asshole...
The man tightened his grip more. The spots around the edges of your vision were quickly morphing into darkness; you knew you were about to pass out.
There was a faint mechanical whir in the distance and a sudden loud crack immediately preceded your ability to breathe again.
Your legs gave out and you slumped to the ground in a fit of coughs. Your vision came back in patches, in the same way it had faded out before. Once you were able to focus, you realized Bucky was in front of you with the guy pinned against the opposite wall. He was speaking in a dangerously low voice and had his metal hand wrapped around the guy's neck.
"Let's see how you like it, huh? It's not so fuckin' pleasant, is it?"
The man was a picture of complete panic. You'd thought your attacker was a big guy--but not compared to your teammate. He was rasping out apologies the best he could manage but Bucky was having none of it.
It felt like ages passed before you were standing again. A couple deep breaths later, you approached Bucky and placed a hand on his arm. His head whipped to the side and if you hadn't been paying close attention, you wouldn't have noticed how his eyes softened just barely.
"He's not worth it, Barnes," you croaked. "You're better than that now."
Bucky's chest was heaving as he turned back to glare at the guy and his reddening face. You moved your hand down to Bucky's wrist and pulled slightly.
With one final glare, Bucky dropped the guy unceremoniously to the ground. The wheezing and coughing fit that followed sounded harsh in the quiet of the night. It was a miracle no nosy civilians had discovered the scuffle.
Bucky had just stalked past you when the man on the ground spoke again. All you heard was "cyborg freak" when you reared back and kicked him square in the ribs and spit on the ground next to him.
This time, Bucky was the one pulling you away. The events really sunk in a few steps later and you ran off, seeking the relative comfort of the motel room. Bucky came in after you to see you curled into yourself on the couch trying to stop yourself from hyperventilating.
In a flash he was on his knees in front of you with this hands on the side of your face, asking you to focus on him as he talked you through a breathing exercise.
How had this been your day? How had everything gone to hell so thoroughly? You were right: you couldn't do this. Your doubts doubled in your mind, causing tears to roll down your cheeks and your breathing to become erratic once again.
Saying your name clearly wasn't getting your attention well enough for Bucky because a moment later he was pulling you to his chest and wrapping his arms around you. You reached around him and fisted your hands into the back of his shirt. The tears were falling freely now and it honestly just added to your frustration. You hated crying in front of other people. Less enjoyable still was crying in front of someone who couldn't stand you.
But...
"Bucky, I'm sorry," you gasped between sobs. You almost whined when he pulled away to stare at you.
The look on his face was one of pure confusion. "What- Why are you apologizing?"
"I-I screwed up everything today," you mumbled.
His eyes widened. "Don't you dare blame yourself for what happened out there. Or anything else from today."
You hung your head and pressed it against his chest, hiding your face from his view. He didn't say anything for a while after that. You just sat there, trying to control your tears and sniffling. There was a sense of peace in sitting in his arms which was completely foreign considering how the two of you usually were when together.
"Bucky?" you finally said, breaking the silence. Your head hadn't moved from against his chest and you felt the vibration of his hummed response through your hair.
"I'm not just asking this because of what just happened but... do you think I should pull out of field work?"
His answer was immediate. "Absolutely not."
"But I... I struggle. A lot. I don't feel like I make the best calls and-"
Bucky moved his hands to your shoulders and pushed away from you. He tried to lean down into your line of sight but you averted your eyes. Bucky wasn't often in your personal space and the closeness was finally making you a little nervous. There was a part of you that expected the moment to end suddenly and for the two of you to start fighting again. Finally, he brought his hands back to your face the same way he had before.
"I know my opinion probably doesn't hold much weight considerin' everything... but I think you're wrong. Steve trusts you without a shadow of a doubt and that alone should tell you you're fully capable of what you're doing. And I know I'm a dick but I... I trust you too."
Your eyes narrowed slightly as you stared at him, searching for any tells that he was lying.
"I do a real shit job of showing it, don't I?" he asked.
"You really do."
He sighed and ran a hand down his face. "You're kind of intimidating, y'know?"
You couldn't stop the bark of laughter that escaped. There was no way...
"You might doubt your abilities, but that's not how you present yourself. You exude confidence and that's... I was jealous as hell of that. So I'm... sorry if I contributed to that doubt."
You couldn't believe the seismic shift in your relationship with Bucky. Twelve hours ago, you'd been tearing into each other over the smallest things. Now things were strange and new--but nice. Things were... nice.
You didn't sleep at all that night. Bucky had been a calming presence for the next few hours, staying awake with you and occasionally making fun of the infomercials that took over late night television. You couldn't even begin to explain how thankful you were for what he'd done--not only for prying your attacker off of you but for being your anchor after.
You were almost back to your car the next morning when you heard the distinct sound of the quinjet approaching.
"Wasn't expecting anyone so soon," you said as the back hatch lowered and Clint stepped out.
The manager at the little motel had given you one of the cans of gasoline he had stored away for his lawnmower. Bucky had thanked him; you'd just hoped it would get you to the closest gas station. Not that you were complaining about the jet at all; it would definitely be the faster way home.
"Well we'd finished our mission early. I guess it's a good thing too; I'm sure one of you would've killed the other soon, right?"
The look of sheer surprise on Clint's face when all you did was grab Bucky's bag and walk up the ramp made you chuckle. It got better when Bucky just shook his head and asked if Clint would help him push your car into the jet.
"Who the hell are you and what did you do with my friends?"
Tags [are open]: @brighterlights @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @scarlettsoldier @canumoveyourseatup-no @feelmyroarrrr @shakzer00 @pixierox101
271 notes · View notes
Text
Bad Ideas (Chapter 1)(Spideypool)
Welcome to the Story! Peter meets Wade, Wade says inappropriate things, Peter likes him anyway. Of course that is how it happens! Peter in this fic is Andrew Garfield
This is a completed fic, check out the MASTERLIST for additional chapters
----------------
Wade looked up from his beer when a beat up old van rolled to a stop in front of the garage. He didn't bother getting up from his chair, not willing to stand for some lost ass hippie looking for directions. His eyebrow did raise though, when a lanky brunette stepped out of the passenger side and waved the driver on.
After the dust cleared, the man-nah, that's a kid- trekked up the driveway, holding a faded red backpack.
“Hey.”
“What's up, man?” Wade tipped his beer towards him, noticing that the kid managed to maintain eye contact, even after getting close enough to see the absolute scarred up mess that was his face. “You need a tow from somewhere?”
“Uh, what? A tow? No man, I don't have a car.” a nervous smile and Wade kind of hated how much he liked it.
“Well, this is a mechanics garage. Why else would you be here unless you had car trouble? Unless--” Wade looked him over and smirked. “I didn't expect my rent-boy to here until Friday night, but I'm not going to argue.”
“What?” the brunette laughed, and Wade couldn't help the interest curling through him at the sound. “No, uh, someone in town said you were looking for an employee? Gave me a ride out here. Wanted to see if you were still looking, or if this was a total waste of my day.”
“Employee.” Managing to look over the top disappointed at him not being the rent boy, Wade drained the rest of his beer. “Not a rent boy. That's a damn shame. Ever thought about pursuing that line of work? I feel like you’d make a killing.”
“Well, uh, if you don't give me a job I might actually have to, so maybe give me your number just in case? You know, for future reference?” With a frankly adorable tilt to his head, and a quick bite into about the fullest bottom lip Wade had ever seen, the boy glanced away and glanced back shyly and Wade was fucked.
“You know anything about cars, kid?” He didn't know why he was even asking, the kid looked like he could hardly lift a bag of groceries much less work around a shop, but apparently that didn't matter when you looked like that, because Wade was asking him anyway.
“I--I know a little about a lot of things. I'm a fast learner. And definitely stronger than I look.”
“What about office work? Filing, billing, all that shit I’m too lazy to do.”
“Yeah. Yeah I can do that too!” He ran long thin fingers through just stupidly thick brown hair and shuffled his feet. “Just, whatever, man. I need the job.”
“It's yours then.” Because apparently all it takes is puppy dog brown eyes and a little smile and I turn into a fucking fool. Wade reached back into his cooler for another beer. “You old enough to drink yet?”
“Uh, yeah, sure am.” the kid dropped into the seat next to him and Wade rolled his eyes.
“I'm gonna pretend I don't know you’re lying and tell you to only drink here and only if you have a ride back to your house. I'm not gonna be responsible for you drinking and being stupid.”
“I'm twenty two, I swear.” He opened the beer and Wade sent him a sideways glance. The bottles definitely weren't twist off, but the kid had popped it like nobodies business.
“Stronger than you look.” Wade muttered. “Guess you weren’t lying about that.”
“Sorry, what?”
“Nothing, man. Nothing. So when can you start?”
“Today?” he offered, and Wade shook his head and pointed at the clock that showed it was well past five pm. “Tomorrow?”
“Better. Where you staying?”
“Um--I just rolled into town so I’m just crashing at the Starbridge Motel and--”
“I literally didn't know they rented rooms for longer than an hour.” Wade interrupted and turned his head just enough to see a truly impressive blush spread up and over those crazy sharp cheekbones. “I got a room above the garage. Not much, just a little studio. But it's separate from my place, and quiet. Bathroom, kitchenette. You can stay there if you pay the for the extra electric and water.”
“That's it? Just utilities?” he sounded suspicious, and Wade couldn't really blame him. Who got offered a job he wasn't qualified for and a place to stay for a few bucks a months from a stranger with a fucked up face and didn't think it was at least kind of suspicious?
Ignoring the cautious look on the kids face, Wade just grinned. “Yep. Just take the too good to be true situation like a nice trusting hitch hiker. Sure it's a bad idea, but it will definitely be fun. And if it's not fun, you know damn well it's gonna be interesting.”
The boy burst into laughter and Wade felt more than a little relieved that he hadn't run screaming down the driveway. “My house is just there on the other corner of the lot. So if you need anything--” he reached out his large hand to shake and was pleasantly surprised when the slim hand shook back just as firmly. “Name’s Wade, by the way.”
“Cool, Wade. I'm Peter Parker.”
“Alright Petey-pie, then let’s get a few details straight.” Wade leaned forward, suddenly all seriousness, and Peter put his bottle down nervously.
“Alright then. Shoot.”
“I don't like to talk about this.” Wade made a circular motion over his face. “Yeah, I'm covered in these scars, yeah it's uncomfortable all the fucking time, and yeah I notice when people stare. Yes, there’s some long involved story about them, no I'm not gonna tell you about it. I like my space, so respect that. You can have all the beer from my cooler you want as long as you replace it. I don't really care if you don't know tons about mechanic work, I can teach you. Just as long as you show up on time and don't stand around with a stupid-ass expression on your face. I will constantly say inappropriate shit, so if it bugs you, speak up and make it loud because I don't really get hints.”
“And, Peter, most importantly-” he rolled his shoulders, the muscles in his back and arms bulging impressively under his fitted long sleeve. “Most importantly, I am definitely an Alpha. All Alpha, baby boy. And while those nice suppressants and little scent blockers you’re taking might work on the average alpha, beta or whoever you’re trying to hide from, they don't work on me. I could smell you walking up the fucking driveway. But you keep your pretty ass on them meds anyway, and when you need time off for your heat you fucking tell me so we can avoid anything awkward and messy, ya feel me? I’ve got no interest in that sort of thing. Not looking for an omega, not looking to deal with all the shit that comes with having one around. Keep your shit together and your pheromones to yourself, and we aren't going to have a problem okay?”
Peter swallowed hard, and Wade couldn't keep his eyes from tracking the motion. “Yeah, man, I got it. Uh, I'm usually only out for the count twice a year, so it shouldn't be a problem for a while. Um, but thank you. Really. Saves us an awkward conversation down the road.”
“Not a problem man. You do your thing, I'll do mine.” They were quiet for a few minutes, just drinking and watching the sun go down, with Wade stealing sideways glances at him, already full of questions about this omega who hadn’t even flinched when looking at him.
“You’ve never seen my ass.” Peter said suddenly, snarkily. “You don't know if it's pretty or not.”
Wade grinned, already liking the attitude on the kid. “Yeah but I'd bet you your first paycheck that those tight little jeans of yours don't leave much to the imagination. Turn around and let me see.”
Peter laughed out loud, covering his mouth with his hand and Wade cursed himself for reacting to it. I am not interested in this omega. I am not interested in this omega. I am not--
Standing up and stretching, Peter looked down. “Can we maybe check out the apartment? I'd love a shower.” he looped his backpack over his shoulder again and waited with a smile that was entirely too innocent for what it did to Wade’s blood pressure.
Damn it I am one hundred percent interested in this Omega. This is a bad idea.
327 notes · View notes