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Pokémon Asks

Pokédex: Your perfect/favorite team

Exp. Share: Your first Pokémon game & when you played it

Lucky Egg: Your gym theme/team

Premier Ball: Favorite Gen I Pokémon

Pokéball: Favorite Gen II Pokémon

Great Ball: Favorite Gen III Pokémon

Cherish Ball: Favorite Gen IV Pokémon

Friend Ball: Favorite Gen V Pokémon

Luxury Ball: Favorite Gen VI Pokémon

Moon Ball: Favorite Gen VII Pokémon

Ultra Ball: Favorite Pseudo-legendary(ies)

Master Ball: Favorite Legendary(ies)

Apricorn: Favorite Fossil Pokémon

Bug Buzz: Favorite Bug type(s)

Dark Pulse: Favorite Dark type(s)

Draco Meteor: Favorite Dragon types(s)

Volt Switch: Favorite Electric types(s)

Moonblast: Favorite Fairy types(s)

Close Combat: Favorite Fighting types(s)

Flamethrower: Favorite Fire types(s)

Aerial Ace: Favorite Flying types(s)

Shadow Ball: Favorite Ghost types(s)

Razor Leaf: Favorite Grass types(s)

Earthquake: Favorite Ground types(s)

Powder Snow: Favorite Ice types(s)

Extreme Speed: Favorite Normal types(s)

Venoshock: Favorite Poison types(s)

Extrasensory: Favorite Psychic types(s)

Power Gem: Favorite Rock types(s)

Gyro Ball: Favorite Steel types(s)

Hydro Pump: Favorite Water types(s)

[timetomackprogress]

Cormac is quick to frown, though it's more of a show of the emotions he's trying to hide than any kind of frustrated. He takes the larger cookie anyway, holding it in both his hands.

"I know, I ju– just—"

He winces, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to take a deep breath. It always gets harder to control his glitches when he's too emotional. Especially when people have the habit of caring a lot about him.

"I just... don't want to bother anyone. I mean, I get my work done the quickest, and it'd be kind of mean for me to just sit around and wait for everyone else to finish their work, on top of doing something I could've been doing the entire time. I can rest when there's no more work to do, or when my shift ends!"

He tries to smile, even if it's smaller and more hopeful than he wants it to be. Despite doing his best to try to keep the fact that he tells everyone that he's always available to fix anything, even when off-duty, out of the knowledge of the ship's department heads and the Captain, he has a feeling in the pit of his stomach that Dorene probably already knows.

"Ms. Whitacre! I brought you some tea, just how you like it. I hope things are running as smoothly for you as it has been for the crew."

- @timetomackprogress

Ms. Whitacre glanced up from her laptop, putting it away quickly with a smile.

"Ah... Mack, thank you sweetheart." She took the mug, taking a careful sip. "I've been fine, you worry too much."

[timetomackprogress]

"N- no, it's okay, I'm okay!"

Being pulled in manages to wrangle a small chuckle from pix, trying his best to find light in the situation as he rubs at his face with the back of his glove.

"It's just... you know. I didn't expect everyone to be looking at me, just because you got me to dance with you. And... and being proud of me."

He takes a small bite of his cookie, which seems to be the final thing to make him relax, sinking into the Captain's side a little.

"I guess I... didn't really understand."

[dip] ( @captain-da-yn ^^)

[ DIP ]: sender guides the receiver into an elegant, graceful dip, lowering them down while keeping a steady hand supporting them against their lower back.

At this point, small celebrations were becoming the norm at the end of any particularly difficult week. Anything and everything could be the cause of a party — a bountiful crop of plants after a short period of rationing, a classic "fix it from the outside" from meteorite damage, and anything in between. If there was any stress involved, it was a good reason to crack open a bottle of bubbly and play all the best dance music over the ship speakers.

Mack had put himself in a corner, as usual, taking small sips from his glass of champagne as he watched the other crewmembers get all silly with each other across the bridge. Mark and Gunther trying to get Celci to dance with them, Burt and some of the other engineers sat in a corner exchanging poetry ideas, and the Captain—

Well, they were suddenly in front of Cormac, taking his hand with the aura of a grin about them, gently pulling him away from the wall he was leaning against.

"Captain?? Come on, you know I'm not good at this!"

Mack has just enough time to put his glass down on the nearest available surface before he's dipped backwards, making him yelp. His hands scrabble for a hold on their suit, despite being held so carefully.

"Don— don't drop me!"

His voice audibly skips as he grabs onto the Captain, glitching slightly as his face turns red from embarrassment. And he was doing so well to keep it all under control, only to get so easily thrown off his groove and flustered.

[timetomackprogress]

He holds the Captain tightly, hiding his reddened face. One of his long, pointed ears twitch to the sound of everyone going back to the party at large, which he self-consciously covers with a hand as YIN lets go of him.

"I'm... I'm okay. I just... didn't expect that."

Cormac grips their hand, not too tightly, as he follows them back to his corner, grabbing his abandoned champagne glass on the way. He puts his back to the wall and slowly slides down it until he's sat on the floor.

It felt like electricity was burning under his skin, and his eyes were a little too watery to feel quite so normal about. Of course, he knew what being overwhelmed felt like, but that didn't help in dealing with it. It was attention he's not used to, attention he thinks he doesn't deserve.

"Were they... actually happy that I joined in?"

He asks quietly, scratching at his neck, making tiny red glitches spark up from his skin.

[dip] ( @captain-da-yn ^^)

[ DIP ]: sender guides the receiver into an elegant, graceful dip, lowering them down while keeping a steady hand supporting them against their lower back.

At this point, small celebrations were becoming the norm at the end of any particularly difficult week. Anything and everything could be the cause of a party — a bountiful crop of plants after a short period of rationing, a classic "fix it from the outside" from meteorite damage, and anything in between. If there was any stress involved, it was a good reason to crack open a bottle of bubbly and play all the best dance music over the ship speakers.

Mack had put himself in a corner, as usual, taking small sips from his glass of champagne as he watched the other crewmembers get all silly with each other across the bridge. Mark and Gunther trying to get Celci to dance with them, Burt and some of the other engineers sat in a corner exchanging poetry ideas, and the Captain—

Well, they were suddenly in front of Cormac, taking his hand with the aura of a grin about them, gently pulling him away from the wall he was leaning against.

"Captain?? Come on, you know I'm not good at this!"

Mack has just enough time to put his glass down on the nearest available surface before he's dipped backwards, making him yelp. His hands scrabble for a hold on their suit, despite being held so carefully.

"Don— don't drop me!"

His voice audibly skips as he grabs onto the Captain, glitching slightly as his face turns red from embarrassment. And he was doing so well to keep it all under control, only to get so easily thrown off his groove and flustered.

[timetomackprogress]

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Why didn’t we live in a universe where we didn’t end up like

🖤❤️Reblogs are appreciated 💙🤍

[timetomackprogress]

Captain YIN fucking loves spontaneous dancing with their crew

[timetomackprogress]

Fungus Among Us :3c

is this anything

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hey, man… you uh, you good? seems like things have been stressful lately

Me? Well... I'm fine! Sure, things have been stressful here and there, but overall? I'm completely fine! All systems are go!

[timetomackprogress]

He's quick to slouch in on himself, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. Sure, they were always so happy and excitable, but to get so... delighted, about simply showing up to the party and being in the right place at the wrong time to get pulled into the centre of it all... It didn't make any sense to him.

It makes far less sense when the rest of the crew join in.

If YIN wasn't pulling him into a hug, Mack would've thought that this was all a prank. Everyone clamoring around him, celebrating him, happy that he's here... The pride swelling in his chest was almost uncomfortable.

Proud. Of him. For doing something everyone else can so easily do.

"... Th- thank you..."

Cormac mumbles, clinging to the Captain and praying they wouldn't let go of him. He didn't want anyone to see how close to tears he felt.

[dip] ( @captain-da-yn ^^)

[ DIP ]: sender guides the receiver into an elegant, graceful dip, lowering them down while keeping a steady hand supporting them against their lower back.

At this point, small celebrations were becoming the norm at the end of any particularly difficult week. Anything and everything could be the cause of a party — a bountiful crop of plants after a short period of rationing, a classic "fix it from the outside" from meteorite damage, and anything in between. If there was any stress involved, it was a good reason to crack open a bottle of bubbly and play all the best dance music over the ship speakers.

Mack had put himself in a corner, as usual, taking small sips from his glass of champagne as he watched the other crewmembers get all silly with each other across the bridge. Mark and Gunther trying to get Celci to dance with them, Burt and some of the other engineers sat in a corner exchanging poetry ideas, and the Captain—

Well, they were suddenly in front of Cormac, taking his hand with the aura of a grin about them, gently pulling him away from the wall he was leaning against.

"Captain?? Come on, you know I'm not good at this!"

Mack has just enough time to put his glass down on the nearest available surface before he's dipped backwards, making him yelp. His hands scrabble for a hold on their suit, despite being held so carefully.

"Don— don't drop me!"

His voice audibly skips as he grabs onto the Captain, glitching slightly as his face turns red from embarrassment. And he was doing so well to keep it all under control, only to get so easily thrown off his groove and flustered.

[timetomackprogress]

myabe [SOOTHE] or [NIGHTMARE] with platonic Mark and Mack? Gotta help your weird little alternate universe clone feel more like a human person sometimes, right?

Hiiii bestie <3 here you go

Warnings for paranoia inducing phrases, panic attacks, negative thoughts towards the self.

   “What if the world forgot you?” Was the question the crew asked in unison, staring down at Mack as he glitched and flickered. A question that haunted him, nagging at the back of his mind constantly.

    “What if the world forgot you?” They repeated, their collective voices droning. Mack needed to get out.

    His eyes snapped open, escaping the nightmare with his heart pounding. He was drenched in sweat, his chest heavy with pure dread.

    Mack stumbled down the hall, eyes bleary and struggling to focus on anything, on where he was. Did he get forgotten? Did everyone leave him behind? Did the Captain deem him unfit and dismiss him in his sleep?

    Mack collapsed in the kitchen, red eyes wide. Pix presence caused Mark to freeze, mouth full of whatever god-awful concoction he had managed this time.

    Mark rushed to finish his bite and swallow, smiling nervously. “You all right, little buddy?”

    “They forgot me.” Mack stammered out, glitching.

    Mark winced, setting aside the cream cheese and peanut butter he was holding to join Mack on the floor. He couldn’t help but feel the guilt he had been told not to. He didn’t mean to have made Mack have these issues.

    “Who did?” He asked, wrapping an arm around the unstable demon beside him.

    “M-my crew. They all forgot me.” Mack stated, hyperventilating.

    “How could they forget you? You’re pretty cool I think.” Mark smiled softly, feeling out of his depth. Usually he was the one needing reassurance.

    Mack only whined in response. He didn’t know what to make of anything, of the beautiful tile beneath them, of his lack of uniform. 

    “Dorene couldn’t forget you, I mean, you’re her grandson!” 

    Mack sniffled, trembling. “C-can I call her? Please?”

    Mark gritted his teeth, not exactly enthusiastic about bothering Dark at this time of night, but knowing Mack needed them. He nodded, passing over his phone.

    Mack’s hands froze, realizing the time. Realizing he was probably bothering everyone. He shouldn’t wake her. He shook his head in frenzy, setting the phone down. He was struggling to breathe, glitching harder.

    “No? That’s okay. We can call later.” Mark ruffled his hair. He searched his mind for anything Dark would do to calm him down. “Uh… I have a task for you. Very important. Count the blue things in here for me.”

    “V-very important?” Pix asked hopefully. If it was important, pix couldn’t let pix Captain down. 

    One… Two… Three… He counted carefully, not noticing his breath evening out, his heart slowing.

    “... Seventeen.” Mack stated quietly, looking to Mark. 

    Mark nodded, smiling. “Nice! Good job, buddy.”

    Mack had a question on his mind. Mark knew exactly what he was too scared to ask. “You wanna sleep in my room tonight?”

    Mack nodded, rubbing his eyes.

[timetomackprogress]

Astrophotographer, in Idaho, captures falling meteor fireball.

[timetomackprogress]

While I'm thinking about it. The things I write will take place chronologically after the one Mark and Sinclair are doing, about how he manages to get me to show my true glitch demon abilities. So please don't worry that you've missed something when I refer to myself as... myself.

[timetomackprogress]

[dip] ( @captain-da-yn ^^)

[ DIP ]: sender guides the receiver into an elegant, graceful dip, lowering them down while keeping a steady hand supporting them against their lower back.

At this point, small celebrations were becoming the norm at the end of any particularly difficult week. Anything and everything could be the cause of a party — a bountiful crop of plants after a short period of rationing, a classic "fix it from the outside" from meteorite damage, and anything in between. If there was any stress involved, it was a good reason to crack open a bottle of bubbly and play all the best dance music over the ship speakers.

Mack had put himself in a corner, as usual, taking small sips from his glass of champagne as he watched the other crewmembers get all silly with each other across the bridge. Mark and Gunther trying to get Celci to dance with them, Burt and some of the other engineers sat in a corner exchanging poetry ideas, and the Captain—

Well, they were suddenly in front of Cormac, taking his hand with the aura of a grin about them, gently pulling him away from the wall he was leaning against.

"Captain?? Come on, you know I'm not good at this!"

Mack has just enough time to put his glass down on the nearest available surface before he's dipped backwards, making him yelp. His hands scrabble for a hold on their suit, despite being held so carefully.

"Don— don't drop me!"

His voice audibly skips as he grabs onto the Captain, glitching slightly as his face turns red from embarrassment. And he was doing so well to keep it all under control, only to get so easily thrown off his groove and flustered.

[timetomackprogress]

"I know, I know..."

He looks down at his hands in his lap, fiddling with his gloves and communications device until he finally just takes the things off. Mack takes the time to carefully fold the gloves and place them off to the side on the desk, then his communicator resting on top of them, and finally neatly rolling the sleeves of his jumpsuit up to his elbows.

"There's plenty of things around to do, and not enough crew to do it. Sure, everything goes smoothly, but... I mean, someone has to do the things no one else wants to do."

He frowns at his hands, then looks up to carefully take a cookie, making sure to take the smallest looking one of the lot.

"Ms. Whitacre! I brought you some tea, just how you like it. I hope things are running as smoothly for you as it has been for the crew."

- @timetomackprogress

Ms. Whitacre glanced up from her laptop, putting it away quickly with a smile.

"Ah... Mack, thank you sweetheart." She took the mug, taking a careful sip. "I've been fine, you worry too much."