sometimes i do the stupidest things

Alex Summers x Reader

A/N:This was requested by anon for “I can. I will. Watch me.” And “Are you nuts you could’ve died?!” With Alex Summers(Havok) Hope you like it!!! Sorry that this was is short, and/or very bad in general.

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Alex Summers. One of the greatest people you’ve ever met. But he can do the stupidest things sometimes, which puts the fear of God in you.

When you found out he was hurt on a mission with the X-Men, you didn’t know if you felt worried, angry, maybe both. But him getting hurt was his fault, unless he did something stupid to get hurt.

His last words to you before he left were;

“I can. I will. Watch me.” When you told him not to do anything stupid.
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You watched him lay there in bed. You were told He’d be alright. Thank god.

“Y/N?” He mumbled

“Are you nuts? You could have died.” Was the first thing out of your mouth.

“Sorry. Are you alright Alex?”

“Glad to see you too Y/N.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

anonymous asked:

So I've been kinda freaking out about getting a response from someone because I thought maybe my reply hadn't gone through, but I didn't know what to do. Anyway, I finally heard from him today so it's all good. So much for overthinking it haha

Omg over-thinking is such an annoying thing, right? It happens to me ALL the time too, sometimes over the stupidest things >.< I’m glad it worked out!

3

hey @hulkieswonderland 👀
it seems to me like i’ve heard somewhere that it’s your birthday today 🤔
so that’s gonna get incredibly sappy and probably super chaotic bc you know how i am lmao
anyways you are a truly special person! you are always listening to me rant on and on about the stupidest things and you even put up with me whining about football or my life in general
idek how you do that but thank you anyways
you are a wonderful and lovely human being who deserves the world but since i can’t give you the world i’ll just give you those pictures of your favs instead (i know not really a replacement for the world but hey at least i tried)
i couldn’t be happier that we started talking bc sometimes it seems like i know you for far longer than i actually do. you are screaming about all the gays with me and you always send me the best songs and let me spam you with all the crazy stuff i come up with.
you are my long lost twin and i love you
i just hope you have a really really great day with lots of cake, presents and fun! 💙

Sometimes people ask me the stupidest questions.

Like no, I can’t read minds, nor can I move things with my mind, I don’t think you learn anything about real psychics from watching The Long Island Medium, and for the love of God, I do not worship Satan!

Mystery Solved

It may interest you–then again, it may not–to know that I had a dream a few days ago in which I finally met and saw the face of the man of my dreams.

Now, let me preface this with an explanation: I dream about Mystery Man in regular intervals. Sometimes, we’re just walking hand-in-hand down a rainy street, which is either very romantic or the stupidest thing ever because in the dreams, neither of us is wearing a coat and we’re clearly at risk for pneumonia, but I digress. Sometimes, we’re just sitting on a couch, watching a movie. Sometimes, we’re yelling at Ian McKellen for no apparent reason. Sometimes, Ian McKellen yells back. Sometimes, we’re flying on large clown fish through the super market. 

(Though I do not have extensive experience in the dating department, my research indicates that flying on large clown fish through supermarkets and yelling at Ian McKellen are perfectly acceptable dating activities. As long as you yell nice things at Ian McKellen.)

In short, Mystery Man and I always have a grand old time. But I have never, not once, seen his face. It’s always missing.

This led me to assume that he does not have a face, and instead possesses a gray blur with a shock of floating dark hair for a head, which is really remarkable and grounds for congratulations because not many people get on well without the aid of a skull.

I usually wake up mildly frustrated because I’m hoping for something instead of that missing gray blur. But a few days ago, for the first time ever, when I looked up at Mystery Man in my dream, the gray blur was gone. A face had replaced it, and it smiled down at me in stunning, technicolor clarity.

The face belonged to Herman Munster.

And, incidentally, it was making this expression:

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I have been dream-dating Herman Munster. 

Which explains why Mystery Man was so much taller than I am. It also explains why I kept telling people in the dreams that we’d been married for 147 years. 

It also explained why Mystery Man was such a horrendous dancer. Have you tried to waltz in those clunky shoes? It doesn’t work.

Don’t get me wrong, Herman was always a perfect gentleman. He never initiated the Ian McKellen screaming fests; I did. He never knocked anything over when we were flying the clown fish through supermarkets; I did. It was always his idea to go dancing. I was pretty pleased with the whole arrangement, I must say. It isn’t every day that a girl meets a gentleman of that caliber, especially one who lacks his literary progenitor’s tendency to lapse into fits of existential brooding. He was an absolute delight. A delight, I tell you.

In the last dream I had, the one in which I finally saw his face, it struck me that Lily Munster either didn’t know about the whole shebang or she was dead. Or open to shaking things up a bit in her marriage.

Whatever the case, I have to thank her for lending me her husband and say here and now that I do not encourage infidelity and that my part in the aforementioned infidelity was entirely unintentional. He just showed up in a dream a few months back. He was always so polite. How was I supposed to know I was skipping along sidewalks with Herman Munster? I couldn’t see his face. What was I supposed to do? “Sorry, man, there’s no room for you here in this dream because for all I know, you might be a happily married sitcom father and I do not want to break up a happy home, particularly one in which the family members are potentially allied with legions of the undead.”

So I didn’t say anything. I kept my mouth shut and let Mystery Man/Herman take me to karaoke and line dancing. He stomped on my toes the entire time, and apologized profusely for doing so. I didn’t mind. Later, he let me stand on his clunky box shoes while we danced and we avoided injury for the rest of the dream. 

Just don’t tell Lily.