When I was hesitant about Frank Castle being in Brand New Day, what I failed to account for is that Frank is the perfect person to hear "I'm staying away from my loved ones to protect them" and respond with "that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Go talk to them."
A/N: I want to give 2013 logan more love after finally watching the movie in full. Here's a start! basically i just took a random scene of the movie and did this 🤣 least till i get better ideas (I do)
Warnings: none, just a tad bit of angst but not really. a bit of fluff bc logan is a lover boy
He's driving you insane.
There was a time you wanted nothing more to be by Logan's side again, in any way, shape, or form. Now you are, nearly years later and the man is doing nothing but getting on your last nerve. Arguing, complaining- being a cocky asshole, more so than he used to be which you had ignorantly thought was impossible.
Poor Mariko has been stuck in the middle of you two bickering like a child of divorced parents, you don't know how many times you've apologized to her for it. She has her own issues to worry about without playing mediator between you both- which, she hasn't. She seems more entertained by the whole thing anyway.
It's not like you're trying to pick a fight with him. You've had to accept his choices and move on. Now he's back and old feelings are surfacing. There's tension between you both that's becoming increasingly harder to ignore- so you have just been ignoring it more because in your heart you believe Logan does not care for you, not in the way he use to- if he ever did.
Japans countryside was gorgeous, and peaceful- and hopefully safe. The insanity of the last few days have left little time to get a breather. The bus had stopped at a little village that Mariko had a family home in, so you were finally able to get off .
You and Mariko thought the trio should take a moment to recuperate and relax- and hide, but Logan wanted to keep going on foot- he didn't want to hide out somewhere. Which of course- led to another argument between the both of you. Logan stormed off- which you knew was temporary but thank god he did because you were going to lose it if he argues with you one more time. Thankfully, Mariko has been the only level-headed one between you three.
You're sitting at a bench, trying to catch your breath when Mariko joins you. She gives you a sympathetic smile.
"I'm sorry." You say to her for likely the hundredth time today. "You have enough to deal with without listening to us bicker."
"Don't be." She responds, smoothing out her shirt. "He seems like a complicated man. Anyway, it has been entertaining."
You scoff shaking your head, "That's one way to describe him…"
"Yes." She laughs. "But….You love him. I can tell."
"I…" You trailed off. Remembering an old memory. "We were… Close… A few years ago. He left. It hurt. But I'm over it, and him. He's more of a.... Old friend, now."
She smiles knowingly.
"What?"
"He says your name in his sleep." She says. "You may think of him as an old friend, but he still has feelings for you."
You open your mouth to retort, instead interrupted by a neighbor calling out for Mariko. She smiles at you and stands up to go attend to her neighbor. You stay seated, trying to ignore the feelings rising up in you, and becoming lost in thought as you stare into space- thinking about your past with Logan.
"Hey."
His voice snaps you out of it. You look up at him, blinking a few times from the suns brightness. He's staring at your with furrowed brows, before he looks down and awkwardly takes a seat next to you.
"Hi." You finally greet him back.
He was silent, looking everywhere but you. You don't bother to say anything else, because there wasn't anything else to say. Just sitting together in awkward silence before he finally huffs.
"Here."
You looked to see what he was handing you. A small bunch of flowers, purple Bellflower and yellow Adonis. He was gripping them so tight they were hanging loosely around his fist, looking sad from being picked. His expression almost made you laugh- the man was so damn stern while handing you flowers.
"Oh." You exclaim softly, taking the flowers from him, holding them carefully in your lap as you admire them. "Thank you, Logan."
He watches you, his jaw tensing and opening his mouth to say something. Mariko instead calls for him, turning both your attention. She waves for you, pointing at the street. A tree fell down.
Logan worked on chopping it while you and Mariko chatted with the townsfolk, lovely people they were. Occasionally you look back at Logan, and find him looking back at you, and then you both quickly look away and pretend that you weren't looking at the other. You couldn't help but stare a bit too long while he was chopping wood- noting how his muscles flexed, and the sweat sheened on his skin. Mariko caught you, and you had to smack your own hand for staring.
He got the tree cleared and moved, and the three of you went on a short walk ahead back to the home. Mariko stopped to talk to a neighbor, happily greeting them and engaging in conversation while you and Logan continued walking- but staying near as to not leave her alone. It was quiet between you both, with only the sound of wind blowing through trees and water lapping at the stone wall.
"So, you didn't like the flowers?" Logan asked. You stopped, while he kept walking before finally stopping and looking back at you expectantly.
"What?" You smile in confusion.
"You, uh…Didn't react like you used too when I gave you flowers." He shrugs casually. You blink a few times, processing his words, before your mouth falls open. You shut it, then it falls open again in disbelief. He watches you glitching, and shrugs again. "Just thought it'd be nice." He mutters, turning away.
You let out a sigh, unable to help the smile growing on your face. He's impossible. "Logan." You call after him, taking a few steps to close the gap between you. Your hand rests on his chest, over his heart. You lean forward and kiss the corner of his lips. "I loved them. Thank you."
His expression softens, just a bit, glancing back behind the both of you to see Mariko lingering in the back, watching you both and rolls his eyes. Without another word, he holds his arm out for you, beckoning for you to take it. You oblige, wrapping your hand around his bicep.
— When Newt's Niffler keeps stealing your locket, he finally admits the creature has excellent taste.
The Niffler had stolen your locket again.
This was the third time this week, and you were beginning to suspect it wasn't entirely accidental. Newt's creatures had personalities—distinct, complex ones—and this particular Niffler had decided, for reasons known only to itself, that you were worth stealing from.
"I'm terribly sorry," Newt said for the third time, carefully extracting the locket from the Niffler's pouch while the creature chittered indignantly. "He's usually very well-behaved about only taking things from my pockets."
"It's fine," you said, watching the way Newt's fingers moved—gentle, practiced, respectful of the creature even while disciplining it. "Though I'm starting to think he likes me."
Newt glanced up, and there was something soft in his eyes. "He has excellent taste."
The words were so quietly sincere that you almost missed them. Almost.
You'd been working with Newt for six months now, cataloguing his creatures, helping him organize his research for the book he was always talking about writing but never quite seemed to start. It was supposed to be temporary—a few weeks, maybe a month, just until he found someone more qualified.
But Newt had a way of making temporary feel permanent, of making you feel essential in ways that had nothing to do with qualifications.
"Here," he said, holding out the locket. But instead of simply handing it to you, he hesitated. "May I?"
You nodded, confused, and watched as he carefully fastened it around your neck, his fingers barely brushing your skin. He was close enough that you could see the freckles scattered across his nose, the way his hair curled slightly at the temples.
"There's a charm on this," he said quietly, still focused on the clasp. "Protection magic. Old. Powerful. Did you know?"
"It was my grandmother's."
"She must have loved you very much." He stepped back, finally meeting your eyes. "The Niffler can sense it. The magic. He's drawn to powerful things, but more than that, he's drawn to things that matter. Things that are treasured."
Your heart did something complicated.
"Newt," you started, but he was already moving away, back to the Niffler, using the creature as a shield the way he always did when conversations turned personal.
"Right, yes, back you go," he murmured, gently depositing the Niffler back into its enclosure. "And no more stealing. I mean it this time."
The Niffler made a sound that suggested it absolutely did not mean it.
You watched Newt move through his case—this impossible space he'd created, full of creatures and habitats and magic that defied explanation. He belonged here, you thought. Among things that were misunderstood, underestimated, seen as dangerous or inconvenient by people who didn't bother to look closer.
"Newt," you said again, more firmly this time.
He paused, his back to you, shoulders tense.
"Why did you really ask me to stay? Six months ago, when my temporary position ended?"
"I told you. I needed help with the documentation."
"You're perfectly capable of documenting on your own. You've been doing it for years."
"Yes, well." He turned slowly, and there was color high on his cheeks. "The creatures like you."
"The creatures."
"They're excellent judges of character." He was fidgeting with his wand now, rolling it between his fingers. "Better than I am, certainly. They knew immediately that you were—that you—"
He stopped, jaw working, clearly fighting with himself.
You stepped closer. "That I was what?"
"Important," he said quietly. "They knew you were important. The Niffler steals from you because he wants your attention. The Bowtruckle only lets you hold him. The Occamy rearranges herself to fit in your hands specifically." He swallowed hard. "And I—I knew it too. That you were important. I just didn't know how to say it."
Your breath held.
"I'm not good at this," he continued, the words coming faster now, like he was afraid he'd lose his nerve. "At talking. At people. I spend most of my time with creatures because they make sense in ways that humans don't. But you—you make sense to me. The way you move through the habitats, the way you speak to the creatures, the way you organize my notes without making me feel incompetent." He finally met your eyes, and the vulnerability there was staggering. "The way you look at me like I'm not strange. Like I'm just... Newt."
"You are just Newt," you said softly.
"Most people find that disappointing."
"I don't."
He let out a shaky breath. "The Niffler steals your locket because it's precious. Because it matters. And I—" He stopped, looking away. "I keep asking you to stay for the same reason."
The confession hung between you, fragile and honest.
You closed the distance between you, and he watched you approach like you were a creature he hadn't fully studied yet—curious, cautious, hopeful.
"Newt Scamander," you said, reaching up to cup his face, feeling him lean into your touch like he'd been starving for it. "Are you telling me I'm your queen of hearts?"
He blinked, confused. "I—what?"
You laughed softly. "The Niffler steals hearts. Shiny things, precious things. You're saying I'm the thing worth stealing."
Understanding dawned in his expression, followed by something that looked almost like wonder. "Yes," he breathed. "Yes, exactly that. You're the thing worth—I would steal you, if I could. Keep you here. Not in a case, obviously, that would be terrible, but just—here. With me. If you wanted."
"What if I told you that you don't have to steal me?" You brushed your thumb across his cheekbone, watching his eyes flutter closed. "What if I told you I'd stay willingly?"
His eyes opened, wide and green and disbelieving. "You would?"
"I have been. For six months or else I wouldn’t be here."
"I—" He laughed, surprised and a little breathless. "I thought you were just being kind. Patient with the strange man and his creatures."
"You're not strange. You're extraordinary." You leaned closer, watching his breath catch. "And I'm not being patient. I'm being selfish. I stay because I want to. Because watching you with your creatures is like watching magic happen. Because you see the world differently and it makes me see it differently too. Because—"
He kissed you.
It was unpracticed and a little clumsy and absolutely perfect—the kiss of someone who'd spent more time with creatures than people but was trying, really trying, to be brave.
When he pulled back, he looked dazed.
"I've wanted to do that for four months, two weeks, and three days," he admitted. "Not that I was counting."
"You were absolutely counting."
"I was completely counting." His smile was crooked, shy. "I have a whole journal entry about the exact moment I realized I was in love with you. It was when you sang to the Mooncalves. They'd been agitated, and you just—you started humming, and they calmed immediately, and I thought, 'oh, this is it. This is the person I want to document creatures with for the rest of my life.'"
Your heart felt too large for your chest. "That's possibly the most Newt Scamander declaration of love I could imagine."
"Is that bad?"
"It's perfect." You kissed him again, softer this time. "Though for the record, I've been in love with you since the first week, when you apologized to an Erumpent for disturbing its nap."
He flushed, delighted and embarrassed. "That was just common courtesy."
"That was adorable."
From somewhere in the case, the Niffler chittered approvingly, and you both laughed.
"So," Newt said, his hands settling tentatively at your waist like he wasn't quite sure he was allowed. "You'll stay? Not temporarily?"
"Not temporarily," you confirmed. "Though you should probably warn the Niffler that he can't steal from me anymore."
Newt glanced toward the enclosure, then back at you, and his smile was pure mischief—a rare expression that made him look younger, lighter.
"Actually," he said, "I think I'll let him keep trying. He has excellent taste, after all."
I love hufflepuffs and acoustic men he's so cute and also super cool and his fits always slay and he's so gentleman <3
2. Cedric Diggory
I love hufflepuffs pt 2 he's just a chill guy super kind too KWISJDJRIEJEBBD never really cared for Robert Pattinson but Deadric is a different story
3. Oliver Wood
Qudditch is life ur "The boy who lived"? help us win 1st then we'll talk super cool mentor figure to Harry serving 24/7
4. Harry Potter
He's so goofy help everytime smth magic happens he's speechless he's so me cos he's so confused all the time literally just going along with everything
your relationship with frank was and is complicated. he met you when you were running from your broken home. You were getting into fights daily, jumping from different apartment buildings, occupying the ones that were vacant until you got caught and ran. this was routine for you. you had no need for a guide or a mentor. which is exactly what you told frank when he stopped you.
"woah woah woah, what are you doing, kid? you're going to get yourself killed" frank said as he tried to stop you from running.
"piss off, old man, i don't need your help". you said as you kept running.
he half scoffed, half laughed. he was going to let it go. he would have if it weren't for the way you reminded him of lisa. he didn't know what it was, but it was deeper than the fact that you were a teenage girl around the age that his daughter would be. he couldn't stop his brain from imagining if that is how him and lisa would interact with each other if she were still alive. the banter back and forth, snide remarks but packed with love all the same. he made it 3 steps into the direction he was heading and then did a 180 to chase you down. you were a kid, how could he just let you fend for yourself? that's not what fathers do.
3 months and a lot of swearing later, you and frank had made a good team. he was just retiring from his violent career when he ran into you. he would never admit it (stubborn old men never do), but he believed this was fate. his chance at a fresh start, maybe even redemption. of course, he didn't go that far, but he knew someone who regularly reminded him of it (DD in the HOUSEEE). who knows? maybe he could be a part of something real again. life is messy. he knew that. but since you? he learned that things could somehow be both...
The joy I genuinely felt explaining to my family who Frank Castle is and why the movie did such a great job portraying him and his relationship with Peter/Spiderman, and why Peter sacrificing himself for Jean Grey was so fucking good because FINALLY someone is protecting her instead of treating her like a disobedient mutt that needs to be collared or put down, and Frank almost losing Peter because of his "shoot first, ask questions later" mentality having a bigger impact on Frank than any debate/argument they had about his use of lethal force, and Peter sharing his memory of Aunt May's unconditional love for him with Jean so that she can understand that his apology is not only sincere but he's always seen her as a person, and then Jean using her powers to keep him alive because he's the one person in her life since her sister died who showed genuine care and concern for her, I'M A MESS 😭😭😭😭😭😭
The fact that Peter yearned for Ned and vice versa because that app was totally Ned trying to, subconsciously, find Peter. The fact that MJ and Ned lived together for 4 years and are a family who worry and care about each other. The fact that Jean and Peter formed a brother-sister relationship by the end. PLATONIC LOVE FOR THE WIN!
Love Peters absolutely disgusted face watching the documentary about spider life cycles. Primarily because it implies that he's really just NEVER looked into spiders before. Like, molting is pretty basic shit, HOW did he avoid learning about it for so long?? Did he just really not want to even think about his spider-ness that badly?
Dudes coping mechanism is really just 'if I just ignore it the problem will go away'.
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