air scrubber,

auressea replied to your post “Aw, Brain, No I literally woke up this morning with most of a fic…”

space ships need air scrubbers right? OMG- will there be Brutally Honest Drax Commentary?! OH! is Groot a teenager yet? *chuckles*

Yes! (except for MPreg…then squik) But the possibilities of pheromones in space?!! HAAAHaa yeah. do your worst!

Yeah, mpreg squicks me right the heck out, too, so that’s not happening. It’s not even going to be a possibility.

ignescent replied to your post “Aw, Brain, No I literally woke up this morning with most of a fic…”

I’d read it. Also, you know how sometimes you just crave, idk, Doritos or cheese whiz or something? I feel like muses do that too….

That must be it!


Yes, without hesitation






Okay, for all of that lovely encouragement, you guys get a snippet (under the cut, for those who wish to avoid very minor spoilers):

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princeofdoomrps  asked:

What if most species that are in space are cold blooded? It could be useful for long space travel, especially if they could naturally hibernate by cooling themselves. Even at light speed, stars can be years or decades apart, and it would mean you'd need less food or water. Heck, the air scrubbers wouldn't use as much energy either. But the brains of cold blooded beings slow down too in the cold. What if that world isn't as warm as you need when you get there? Humans helping lost feral aliens?

Option one: humans make many, many jokes about lizard people. Mostly out of earshot of the aliens. Aliens assume these are myths based on maybe a lost ship that crash-landed on earth awhile back.

Option two:

Originally posted by themostcuteanimals

Originally posted by sizvideos

anonymous asked:

Sick Pidge, please


Team Voltron had had its share of illnesses; nobody’s immune system could have prepared them for space travel. The decontamination caught most of it, and the castle’s air scrubbers got most of the rest. But planetside, all bets were off.

In a way, someone being sick was good for team bonding, because the other Paladins tended to pull together to care for the sick one, no matter how much it irritated most of them to be fussed over. Shiro had spent most of his cold denying that he even had it; Keith had been cranky; Lance had been sullen.

No one was quite expecting Pidge to be the most dramatic, high-maintenance sickroom diva of all of them.

“Laaaaaance, I want soooouuuuuup,” Pidge moaned from her spot on the lounge couch.

She’d chosen to lay up in the lounge because the air moved better, she said, and nobody had wanted to argue. They’d dimmed the lights, so she could sleep if she wanted to, and were hanging out, quietly playing cards, in case she needed them.

Which was often.

Lance rubbed his eyes. “Pidge, I’m not sure if now is the best time to break this news to you, but we’re not on Earth, okay? We don’t have soup.”

“Huuuuunnnnk,” she whined.

“Sorry, man. He’s right. No chickens, no noodles. I can make you some goo if you’re hungry?”

She didn’t answer except with a pained moan, so Hunk shrugged and went back to the card game. A few minutes later, right when they were hoping Pidge had fallen asleep, her reedy voice floated out to them from the couch.

“I’m cold. Can I have a blanket?”

“Pidge, you have blankets,” said Shiro reasonably. “They’re the ones you threw on the floor. They’re right next to you.”

Pidge made a low groan that lasted at least eight seconds, flopping an arm dramatically over the edge of the couch. “I don’t like those ones.”

“One of them is your blanket. From your room.”

She just groaned again and rolled herself into the back of the couch. Keith got to his feet with a sigh and went in search of other blankets.

Allura exchanged a look with Coran over their cards. “Perhaps it’s serious,” she said, concerned.

“I’m literally dying,” Pidge garbled into the back of the couch.

“She’s fine,” said Lance. “Pidge, you’re fine. Drink your water.”

“I don’t want water,” she wailed. “I want soup.”

“Well, I want you to drink your fluids and sleep it off like an adult, but I guess that’s just not going to happen either.”

Shiro smiled fondly as they bickered, was still smiling when Keith returned with arms full of blankets. He dumped them on top of her, and she burrowed herself into them until just her snotty face was sticking out.

“Thank,” she sighed. Keith just poked her stack of tissues closer to her face.

Hunk shuffled idly. “I bet she’s just bored.” He pushed his chair onto its back legs so he could see her. “Pidge, you bored? Want me to read to you or something?”

Silence, for a long moment. Then a sniffle. “Yeah,” she said weakly, and Hunk put down his cards with a smile and went to find a book.

I’m celebrating a follower milestone! Send me a prompt and I’ll write you a mini fic!

sarcasmwithasideofsass  asked:

I'm nervous as hell because I don't know what to ask you to wright so just anything Maine/wash related if you would. Like one is miserably sick and the other cares for them but is an asshole about it because he told him not to do the thing.

In which Wash and Maine are the bestest of friends and “not to be homo-erotic, but I could kiss you right now.” It’s a war story. Occasionally war stories are love stories. This is mostly a war story though.

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Why don't all cars require carbon scrubbers on the exhaust pipe?
  • Do you want to make a billion dollars with me? First we make a carbon scrubber to go on any source of pollution. A carbon scrubber that can be taken off your tail pipe every week and washed. Then we write a bill that requires all cars and other sources of airborne pollution to have carbon or similar filters and scrubbers on them and be lobbyists for it. It would significantly reduce lung cancer in cities from diesel such as from school busses and trucks. It would require no drastic changes to any technology or business. It won't stop oil spills but at least the carcinogens and global warming causing gas would be in a solid state rather than our lungs.We should get Ralph Nader on board, he did it for seatbelts.