Marlene: Gun To Your Head, Kill Either Lily Or Sirius

Marlene: gun to your head, kill either lily or sirius

James: the gun would go off

@m-a-reads HERE U GOO

OMG NEVERMIND THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS DON'T READ THIS AAA

Throne of Glass family tree 💫

OMG THIS IS SO GOOD NOW I NEED A PART 2

You should stay in my good graces

Written for Rowaelin Month, songfic day @rowaelinscourt

Sabrina Carpenter once said: “Break my heart and I swear I'm movin' on with your favorite athlete.”

Warnings: none I think? Some heavy petting but still safe for work lol

Words: 3,5k

Aelin Galathynius Seen At Football Game As Fans Continue To Wait For Album Release

“You do know he won’t want you for more than a night, right?” Lysandra asked while Aelin looked for Rowan Whitethorn at the afterparty with hawk-like precision.

“I hope so, yes,” she replied.

Aedion’s groan was loud even with the club’s music and hooting.

It shouldn’t be this hard to find the team captain at a game afterparty, but looking for someone she didn’t know in person wasn’t the best thing to do at crowded, massive, and poorly-lit nightclub.

Rowan Whitethorn. All she knew were his piercing green eyes that made her memorize his face even through a picture, and that he was a player in and out of the field. His reputation preceded him. The only thing Aelin could judge him was for how hot he is, though the media diagnosed him as an ‘incorrigible womanizer’ while experts called him the greatest football player of this generation.

And most importantly, her ex-boyfriend’s favorite active athlete.

“Are you sure you want to keep up with this?” Aedion asked, glancing between her and the crowd. “You weren’t even that into Chaol.”

Aelin sipped her margarita and shrugged. “This isn’t about my feelings towards him, it’s about his disrespect towards me.”

She knew her cousin well enough to know that he wasn’t comfortable leaving Aelin alone, half-drunk and mini-skirted at a bar filled with strangers, and Aedion knew her well enough to know she was carrying on with her plan anyway.

Lysandra proceeded to blabber about cultural differences between hot dogs from every country she’s been in with Aelin for this last tour, and Aedion ate it up with rapt attention. Aelin, however, looked around in a way her friend saw right through, feigning boredom to search for the one person she was here for tonight.

She couldn’t see everyone’s faces, but she could easily see how the crowd’s pattern shifted like the Red Sea parting for someone with a presence as strong as a team captain’s. Aelin saw people move and heads turn before seeing the man himself, and that’s how she found her target.

It was so easy to spot the difference between the moment he saw her from the moment he noticed her—a millisecond was enough to spot the blooming glint in the eyes of an archer who’s just found his prey.

The look of womanizer who’s just found a maneater in sheep’s clothing.

One, two—a slow smile—three, four. One polite tug and his gaze was drawn away, but she kept eye contact for long enough to get his attention.

“It’s done,” she told Lysandra and Aedion by the high bar table. Their reactions were much different—one excited, the other reluctant—but they knew it was their cue to leave.

Rowan knew where to find her, now all she had to do was wait. Aelin wasn’t so desperate she’d chase a man.

Her ex, Chaol, was never at these events to avoid his father—the CFO of one of the companies that sponsored the White Hawks—but that didn’t mean he didn’t love the sport. He watched every single game with Dorian, and Rowan Whitethorn’s autograph had a special spot in his hallway, among other framed signed jerseys from his favorite athletes.

Yes, Aelin googled every single one from that wall. The list wasn’t too big, and after crossing off every one that was dead or too old for her, the problematic ones, and the married ones… let’s say there was barely a list after what was supposed to be an initial selection, and she almost gave up on the plan. Aelin might be looking for someone to sleep with to get back at Chaol, but that didn’t mean she’d sleep with anyone just for the sake of revenge. Ew.

She got lucky that Chaol’s favorite athlete in their age group looked this cute.

One day, she’s going steady with her three-month long situationship; the next, her publicist calls her in the middle of a family dinner to tell her Chaol was caught looking way too cozy with another girl. They’d never discussed exclusivity in their relationship, so something they could’ve figured out in a conversation turned into something bigger because he was stupid enough to be photographed.

And if Aelin’s humiliation was public, Chaol’s payback would be too.

A hand on Aelin’s shoulder caught her attention—it was meant to only call her attention, but now the man kept a steady grasp on her that slid down to her elbow.

A pair of dark brown eyes assessed her with curiosity. “Aelin Galathynius,” he said, eyes now trailing down to the long stretch of exposed skin of her legs.

Aelin yanked her elbow back and was about to ask who this creep was, but didn’t get to it.

“Cairn.” She heard the name in a deep voice, but didn’t see his mouth move. A hand reached his shoulder from behind, and another man—the man she was looking for—stepped into their circle. He was even more magnetic up close.

“What.” Cairn said to his captain, terse.

“Coach wants to talk to you.”

“Is it about that foul?”

“Gotta ask him, man.”

Cairn gave Aelin one last look, then sighed and left off—resigned yet pissed.

Rowan took his time, alcohol-free beer in hand while he maintained a steady presence by her side. In that moment, Aelin decided that photoshop and celebrity takes did him no favors.

From the line between his brows the magazines smoothed out to that look he gave his teammate—not a disappointed-yet-resigned one with the politeness publicists groomed into public personas, but the look of a man who knew what he wanted, and wasn’t above bypassing his teammate in order to get it. The person she saw online was a polished version of the little part of the man she met now, and Aelin just happened to like him best rougher around the edges.

“Did he?” she said.

“Did he what?”

“Did Gavriel want to talk to him?”

Rowan smirked. Took a slow sip of his drink. “The thing about Coach Gav—if one of his players is there to listen, he always has an advice to give.”

He might as well have said ‘no’. Though he didn’t have to—even if Aelin wasn’t focused on taking Whitethorn to bed tonight, that Cairn person’s vibes were all off, she wouldn’t have given him any attention either way.

“I’m Rowan.”

“I know.” She giggled. “If I’m crashing a game afterparty, I should at least know the captain’s name.”

Not exactly crashing, since every man in her family was usually invited to this kind of sports thing, but this definitely wasn’t her scene.

“I think there’s a 50/50 chance you’re someone I should know,” he said with an apologetic expression.

She never found this offensive. When a good portion of the world was bombarded with Aelin’s name whether they want it or not, finding someone oblivious to her existence was somewhat refreshing.

“I’m Aelin.”

“Aelin,” he trailed with a faraway look in his eye. “Aelin, Aelin, Aelin…” The turning engines inside his head were clear as day until it clicked. “Aelin! From that Yulemas special, right?”

Aelin burst out laughing. She had been lucky enough throughout her career that none of her work could ever be called a ‘flop’, but that Yulemas special was the closest thing she had to it. The show was good enough and so was the viewership, but let’s say she did not sign up for another one the next year.

“What’s so funny?” He asked with a confused, but mostly amused look.

“You’re the first person I meet that knows me because of that Yulemas special, that’s all.”

Rowan ducked his chin, and Aelin was sure that blush on his cheek was just the strobe lights tricking her eyes. “I don’t really keep up with social media, or celebrity stuff… or anything that isn’t work, actually. But my cousins put that show on every Yulemas dinner.”

Aelin grinned. “That’s sweet.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself because the song shifted to something even louder, and the crowd erupted in cheers. When it subsided, he leaned closer and said, “Can I take you to a booth upstairs?”

Aelin reared back to read his face. “Just a booth?” she asked with one brow quirked up.

“Just a private booth.”

A slow smirk danced on her lips. “Lead the way, then.”

Rowan pointed to the general direction they were going and trailed behind her, but his hand found her back and stayed there when he noticed the sets of eyes following Aelin around the club—marking his territory.

However, they came to an abrupt stop when one of his teammates quite literally ran their way.

“Rowie!” Moonbeam shouts, trying to get Rowan’s attention. “D’you have spare pants?”

The man stared, motionless. “What?”

His teammate turned around and pointed at the ripped seam on his bottom that exposed his underwear. “Got an extra pair or not?”

“How in hell did you—“

“It’s the DJ’s fault!”

Partying too hard, then. Aelin didn’t know Fenrys Moonbeam personally, but he was known to keep it as classy as a wannabe D-lister at their first Grammy afterparty—except he was a world-class athlete.

The man’s eyes widened when he finally noticed Aelin, and he pointed at his butt again and said, “Can you sew this for me?”

“Dude.” Rowan cut him off, eyes hard as steel.

“What?”

“Seriously?”

“What did I do?”

“That’s fucking sexist, man.”

Fenrys gaped. He looked between her and Rowan, then flailed his arms in an empty gesture, fumbling to articulate himself. “I didn’t just see a chick and ask her to sew, she went to fashion school!”

Rowan blinked, then sent her a confused look.

“I did,” Aelin said between giggles. “Find me a thread and needle and I’ll fix it.”

Fenrys went off with his new quest, and Rowan took her upstairs. When Aelin asked him about his friend finding them again, he just grumbled something about ‘the boyo’ always finding him whether Rowan wants it or not.

The private booths were much more comfortable—with softer music and table service, the atmosphere was quite different from the dance floor’s madness.

“I really need to write a new single if the Yulemas show and fashion school is what I’m being referenced for these days,” Aelin said after they were settled.

Rowan oh-so-smoothly sneaked his arm around her. “That’s what you’re doing now? Writing?”

“Writing feels like a too-strong word for what I’m doing now,” she said with a slight grimace. “Let’s say I’m torturing my piano while my manager sends me contacts to write it all for me and get the album out in time.”

He frowned. “Can you do that? Hire other people to write it for you, I mean.”

Aelin laughed—she didn’t mean to, it just tore out of her. He was so oblivious to her line of work, it was endearing.

Rowan just picked another one of his alcohol-free beer, not seeming to be offended about her reaction. “That’s also public knowledge I’m clueless about, isn’t it?”

Aelin bit her lower lip and gave him an amused look that hopefully was answer enough. Then held both hands up and said, “Look, all I know about football is that the ball goes in the goal, and I look cute in your team’s colors. Nothing else.” She tapped the side of her head. “Nada.”

“That can’t be true.” His face was an inch closer to hers now.

“Maybe I need some teaching,” she whispered, eyes trailing from his eyes to his lips.

This. This is where he slips. This is how Aelin finds the first red flag before he lured her into his lips. Because red flags are the trail of breadcrumbs she leaves to not lose herself in a man, and she needed them more than anything now that she was enjoying herself too much for a revenge plan. Please, big hot guy, please mansplain to me your favorite sport.

Instead, he held her neck—the goosebumps down her body were due to the cold temperature, she was sure—and murmured back, “But I doubt you want to learn now.”

Oh, shit. Before her mind even registered it, she held his cheek and tugged his lips into hers, the soft feel of his pillowy—

“Rowie!” They heard Fenrys before he was in their sight, kiss broken—half-kiss, actually. The man sighed when he found their booth and plopped on the seat next to Aelin, sandwiching her between the two players.

“Turns out management keeps an emergency sewing kit,” he said, baffled. “Can you believe it?”

“I really can’t,” Rowan grumbled.

“Now if you excuse me… Aelin, could you…?” Fenrys trailed, pointing at the wall.

She complied and stared at the wall until granted permission to look back. When she did, Fenrys held his pants with one hand and a towel around his hips with another.

She grabbed the piece of clothing and did a quick work of it. Her days of fashion school were long gone, but muscle memory got her on it like time wasn’t even a thing.

Rowan still looked a bit grumpy about Fenrys’ intrusion, but she didn’t blame him. They kinda got cockblocked, but Whitethorn’s was kinda doing it for her.

“How did you even know she went fashion school?” he asked.

It was public knowledge about her, but the kind not even the casual fans knew. And if Rowan was asking, his teammate must not be a die-hard fan.

Fenrys smirked at Aelin. “I memorize a few random facts about you to impress the ladies.”

Aelin chuckled and playfully rolled her eyes. She knew this move existed, but no one that used it had been so bold to say it to her face.

She handed the pair of pants back to Fenrys, and kept her eyes closed while he put it back on and blabbered something about his brother mocking him forever after this.

“I think we all will, Boyo,” Rowan said. “Now get lost.”

“Thanks, Aelin!” he said with a salute on his way out. “I’m streaming your next album so hard—it’ll be another #1!”

Aelin groaned and sagged back on her seat, but only Rowan was there to see it.

“Are you really triggered by any mention of your next album?”

She shrugged. “Nah, just being dramatic.” Aelin put her hands on his shoulders, slowly so she’d feel his pecs on her way up. “But I’d feel better if you didn’t speak at all.”

His lips met hers for another kiss, and it tore into her bloodstream like discovering a new favorite melody, his mouth on hers as he tilted her head to taste her better. Aelin ran her fingers through the short strands of his hair while Rowan tugged her body closer, ran his fingers over the exposed skin of her legs.

A miniskirt wasn’t the most practical attire, but it did prevent her from being stupid sometimes—if it wasn’t for the looming threat of accidentally flashing the whole VIP section of the club, Aelin would be in Rowan’s lap by now.

Rowan grabbed the hair by her nape to allow him space on her neck, and Aelin just shut her eyes closed to let that man and his wicked mouth draw every shiver he wanted out of her. With his hands on her body and his lips on her neck, she let her guard down and allowed him something she rarely gave other men—consent to play her like his favorite instrument, walls as down as her panties if this was his way of taking control.

His trail of kisses went upwards, from her collarbone to her ear. “I was thinking—“

“You’re really hot and all, but I don’t sneak into club bathrooms.”

The low rumble of his throat as he chuckled was so sinful Aelin felt it between her thighs. “I don’t drink Dom Pérignon in plastic cups, baby.” Rowan whispered, his breath fanning her ear in a maddening way. “And I like to savor it—let the taste linger on my tongue.”

All her thoughts vanished. Aelin only had half a mind to ask, “You drive?”

She’d come with Aedion, wherever he is now.

“Sure,” he said. “Let me just…” Rowan grabbed a napkin to remove the lipstick that was supposed to be kiss-proof—it did a better job than most, but it still smudge his cupid’s bow and bottom lip.

“That’s Pat McGrath, babe. You’ll need it surgically removed.”

Rowan frowned. “Pat McAfee?”

Their exit was quite different from when they entered the VIP section. Rowan’s possessive-yet-polite grasp on her fully left the latter part, greedily taking hold of her on their way out. He also brushed aside two teammates that sought him, likely afraid of being interrupted by them like Moonbeam did.

The valet was already outside with his car when Rowan noticed the paparazzi outside. He looked at them and back at Aelin, brows furrowed in thought.

“I usually just go,” he said, sounding unsure. “What do you usually— what do you want me to do?”

“I’m a big girl. Let’s do this.” Aelin squared her shoulders and quickly fixed her hair.

The flashes were a dizzying contrast to the club’s dark ambience, but Rowan kept her steady with one hand protectively on her back, trying and failing to shield her from the onslaught of cameras.

He opened the passenger door for her and ran to the driver’s side, and soon the madness faded out, leaving just the two of them and the soft music on the radio.

As the mood settled and the city lights became blurs around them, it dawned on Aelin that she was about to be unwrapped, bended and spread out by a man who was too dreamy for his own good—the worst kind in the long run.

What was she doing? Aelin wasn’t even the one-night stand type—she wasn’t used to long relationships either, but that wasn’t the point. The “incriminating” pictures of her with Rowan were taken and out soon, and Chaol—whose existence she completely forgot about—would be pissed already.

Aelin steadied herself for what she was about to do, red flag on the floor for him to pick up and wave once she did it.

“I have a counteroffer.”

“Do tell.”

“You drop me off at my apartment on Goldryn St, and I’ll see you around.”

If Rowan was pissed or offended, he didn’t show. Instead, he quickly studied her expression, a bit confused, but once her face didn’t waver, he gave his car screen a pointed look and asked her to type her address in the GPS.

Aelin did vow that she would never settle for anything less than a green flag collector, she didn’t know why it was so unsettling to see one live.

Not that she would settle anytime soon, it was just something that crossed her mind.

Even if she was willing to have a fling with Rowan, she didn’t regret turning him down tonight. If a man wasn’t willing to chase a girl he fancied, what was he chasing in life?

The car pulled up at the building’s entrance, empty except for the doorman by the glass doors. No paps in sight.

Rowan’s jaw fell. “This is too peaceful, even for a spare home.”

“That’s actually my dad’s apartment, for when he has a late work night and doesn’t feel like making the drive home.”

No doubt Aelin’s own home would be absolute mayhem after tonight, that’s why her dad left his safe haven at her disposal.

“Your dad…?”

“He’s in politics.”

Rowan’s face contorted into a grimace, earning him a laugh from her.

“But we don’t wanna ruin our goodbyes by talking politics, do we?” she said.

“Absolutely not.”

Rowan jumped from his seat and circled his car to open the passenger door for her and gave her a hand to help her stand up. Except he didn’t let go. He kept her hand gently yet firmly clutched to his and brought it to his lips, giving her knuckles a chivalrous kiss while his eyes looked borderline devilish.

“I’ll see you around?” he asked, repeating her exact words from the ‘counteroffer’.

She grinned. “I’ll see you around.”

Aelin walked the few steps to the building, but stopped before the front door and turned to take a glimpse of him. Rowan stayed leaned against his car, arms crossed while he waited for her to walk in.

She wiggled her fingers at him over her shoulder with a sweet smile and watched his serene grin turn sly.

Aelin saw right through his chivalry, the dangerous promise hidden beneath looking near transparent to her eyes.

Aelin Galathynius Watches With Rowan Whitethorn Play Amid Chaol Westfall Breakup Rumors

Aelin Galathynius’ Fans Spot ‘Lipstick Smudge’ On Rowan Whitethorn After White Hawks’ Afterparty

Rowan Whitethorn Follows Aelin Galathynius On Instagram After Rendezvous With The Singer!

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Lady Fate

For @jilytoberfest Day 2 Prompt: A: “If anyone does X I’m going to love them forever.” B: Does X. | A03

Lily was sitting in the corner of the Gryffindor common room, absentmindedly swirling the spoon in her tea. It was one of those rare quiet Saturday mornings—perfect for some much-needed study time before her exam. 

That is, until she heard the unmistakable clamor of footsteps descending from the boys’ dormitory. 

“Lily Evans!” he announced grandly, “Just the redhead I was looking for!”

Skipping the last step of the staircase, Sirius Black landed with a flourish and both arms outstretched to her. He strode over from across the room and threw an arm around her shoulders, planting himself on the arm of the sofa chair she occupied.

Lily sighed, giving him a long-suffering sideways glance. “What is it, Black?”

“Just here to do my duty and support my best mate’s blossoming romance,” he said, giving her a conspiratorial wink.

Lily’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You and I are not best mates,” she said as she struggled to free herself from his grasp.

Sirius stilled, his eyes wide with shock. “What? We had dinner together just yesterday!”

“You mean when I was discussing patrols with Remus and you ran up to us, shaking the rain off your robes like a wet-dog?”

“Exactly! How could you forget? We had a blast.” 

“We are not friends,” she repeated. 

“Oh, come on,” he said, shaking her playfully. “Any future girlfriend of my boyfriend’s is my…No, wait, my mate’s girlfriend is my girlfriend… That’s not right either.” He scratched his chin, as if deep in thought.

Lily felt the beginnings of a headache emerge.

He shook his head, “It doesn’t matter. ”

“Blossoming romance? What are you on about?” His nonsensical train of thought finally having caught up up to her.

He shrugged innocently. “Call it whatever you like, Lils—if I may call you that—"

"—no you may not," she responded.

He ignored her, "—but I’m committed to this love story.”

She snapped her book shut with a loud clap, turning to look at him with fluttering lashes and mock sweetness dripping from her voice. “Black, what can I do to make you go away? Preferably somewhere far, far away.”

“Oh, I’m glad you asked,” flashing her his most charming smile. “You, James—you know James, the most eligible bachelor in school, according to my recent survey.”

“Survey?” she echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Alright,” he sighed dramatically. “I’m the only participant in my survey, thus far, but that’s besides the point.” He tightened his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in closer despite her protests. 

“Picture this,” he waved his free hand in front of them as if painting a grand scene, “summer wedding, a big white tent, twinkling stars in a clear night sky, all of your favorite people yet exclusive enough to give it that wedding-of-the-year kind of feel. I say we don't invite that sister of yours to really drive the point home,” he paused, “and me, the best man, getting mistaken for the groom all night because, frankly, I’m just more dashing in a suit than James is.”

Lily rolled her eyes, completely unimpressed. “If I have to start dealing with you asking me out on James’ behalf, I’m transferring schools,” she said dryly.

Sirius seemed to take offense at her words. “You think James could make me do anything?” He held her there, shaking his head in exaggerated pity. “I just see two very charming, very dense, incredibly oblivious—”

“Are you insulting me now?”

“—idiots who can’t get out of their own way,” he continued. “Do you have any idea what it’s like listening to James pine after you for years only for him to say he’s suddenly moved on? I can’t accept it.” He looked at her with downcast eyes as if burdened by his friend's plight.

“Black.”

“Yes, my future sister-in-law?”

Lily pulled herself free from his grasp and stood up, casting him a withering glare. “Kindly, fuck off.”

His words echoed in her mind—moved on. There was something about them that made her feel off somehow, but she quickly shook it off.

Sirius followed her, undeterred. “I beg you—go out with James, marry him, and have his beautiful, practically-blind, curly-haired children.”

Lily’s laugh was something between amused and utterly unhinged. She turned to face him, grabbing him by the shoulders this time. “I swear, Black, if anyone walks into this room right now, therefore freeing me of you, I’m going to marry them and I’ll love them forever, just to spite you. I swear it—”

The words died in her throat as the familiar creak of the portrait hole filled the room, both heads whipping in its direction.  

There, standing in the doorway, was none other than James Potter—hair even messier than usual, glasses slightly askew. He paused, brow furrowed, staring back at the two of them.

Lily’s jaw dropped, her words caught somewhere between shock and disbelief.

Sirius’ eyes lit up like a proud father. 

“Uh, did I miss something?” James asked, looking between the two. 

Sirius turned to face his friend, awarding James with an exaggerated slow clap. “Well done, mate. You have finally mastered the art of perfect timing.”

James looked from Lily to Sirius, thoroughly baffled. “What’s going on?”

Lily shot Sirius a death glare. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

Sirius raised a solemn hand to his heart, closing his eyes in faux reverence. “The universe has spoken, Ms. Evans, and I am but a humble messenger for Lady Fate.” He turned to James, bowing and raising his arm to gesture towards Lily as if was presenting her. “Please, do collect your bride!”

James blinked, taking a step back. “Wait, what?”

Sirius bursted into a fit of laughter, the sound echoing off the walls and shattering any quiet the common room might have had left. Lily groaned and buried her face in her hands, regretting every single word she’d said—knowing that Sirius Black would never let her forget this moment as long as she lived.  

James glanced at Sirius, who was practically rolling on the floor at this point, then back at Lily, entirely lost. “Did…did I do something?”

“Mate, how do you feel about a honeymoon in the countryside?”

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~~~

"Jesper, go get us some breakfast. Inej and Nina are getting cranky."

Jesper scowls, looking over at Kaz. "Why me?" he whines. Kaz gives him a cutting look. "Because your the only one lazing ass around here while the others are working."

"Fine, but I'm getting it from Olsen's, not Frits."

Kaz turns, incredulous. "No the fuck you're not. Olsen's taste like Ash. I don't even know how they're up, Just walk the extra two miles and get some good food." Jesper turns to him "Nuh-uh, it's so far away, and you had me on scouting duty all of last night, my legs are sore!"

"Well your dad bought you a wagon for a reason, go use it!"

Jesper motions with his hands, indicating the parking area. "It's banged up! Dad will never fix the wheel just so I can avoid some exercise."

Kaz glares at him. "I'm not getting anybody else to do it. Go get the damn wagon, jesper."

Jesper scoffs, sticking his nose in the air. "Fine, I'll go, but only if *you* ask dad for the wagon. He'll never fix it for me."

Kaz scowls at jesper, swings his legs over the chair and stalks over to Colm. He starts, "Excuse me, Colm, I just wanted to know if you could fix the wagon so Jesper and I could go get some breakfast? The shop's pretty far away from here, and we don't want to walk all the way over there." He adjusts his hands in his pockets, and looks at Colm. The farmer scratches the back of his head, looking hesitant. "You two boys are young, 'm sure you could muster up enough energy to walk a bit for some food." Kaz looks at Colm, forcing a sense of human in his eyes, "Please? We really don't want to walk today."

Colm looks up at him, surprised. ("Why is he surprised?" Kaz thinks) "I mean-yeah, if you insist, I could just fix it, give-give me a minute and it'll be done." He saunters over to the wagon, shooting jesper a look he couldn't quite identify on the way.

Kaz turns to find Jesper gaping at him, and he snaps, "What?"

Jesper motions uselessly, "You just-what?"

Kaz runs a hand across his hat, smoothing it out. "You just have to be polite, Jesper. Ever heard of it?"

I have this headcanon that Kaz actually has really good puppy dog eyes but bc the only people he ever used them on were Jordie or his dad, the crows have never seen them, until he accidentally uses them on Colm

I can’t think of the context this would happen under (if you have ideas for this let me know) but I imagine Colm being shocked and appalled his son did not warn him about this!!!! Jesper told him to watch out for his bf’s puppy dog eyes but not his best friends!!! He is betrayed! And no matter how many times Jesper tries to tell him he didn’t know, his father refuses to believe him.

and Kaz completely unaware of what he just did, is absolutely confused why Mr. Fahey is freaking out so badly about him saying please, maybe he’s not as polite to him as he thought he was, he should work on that.

(the eyes also work on Inej’s parents and Marya.)