Appreciate him without sounding patronizing. Somehow. Refrain from smacking him. Make him laugh. Don't do this at someone else's expense. Maybe at your own. Be seen with him. Show him you're willing to be seen in public associating with him. Initiate conversation - show you want to talk to him. Do not allow him to think you just want something from him. Even if you do. Feed him. Not junk food. Show you can provide for him? Isaac had added (un)helpful additions, such as 'Don't leave dead animals on his porch!' in response to number five, underlining 'Don't do this at someone else's expense' twice, and 'Why are you writing a list to yourself in second person? The fact you want Stiles is your worst kept secret'.

The slow love song of Josephine Montilyet and Cassandra Pentaghast, on the side of running the Inquisition and saving the world. Each story is standalone but they might be best when read together.

Dorian's parents come to Skyhold to take him away based on a deal Dorian and his father made a long time ago that if Dorian was not in a relationship by a certain age, Halward could marry him to Livia Herathinos. No questions asked. Cullen only sees one way to ensure his chess partner stays in Skyhold. They only need to fake being in a relationship long enough to get Dorian's parents out of Skyhold anyway. How hard could it be to complete the Tevinter courtship rituals?

Kakashi held up a hand. “We’ll pretend this never happened.”

Leliana figures it out first, quite possibly even before Josephine does—and definitely before Cassandra does, but then, Cassandra can be very selectively dense. Certainly she figures it out well before either of them says anything to the other.

The War against Byakuran had been desperate, and the backlash against something he tried had thrown him back in time. He made a plan, but ...

Wen Ning has been receiving gifts. Wei Wuxian doesn't know who's sending them. Lan Wangji is accidentally keeping a secret.

Uncle's jaw works in the way that suggests he's about to say something irredeemable. Jin Ling, in a move of diplomacy he hopes the Chief Cultivator appreciates, distracts him with spicy food and his favourite subject: the incompetence of his own officials. "I hear the lakes in the south east are having drainage problems?" he asks nonchalantly, sticking three big slices of braised pork belly into his Uncle's bowl. Jin Ling just wants to get through the Discussion Conference with his Sect, his dignity, and his heart intact.

nirejseki

In order to get married, Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang have to follow the traditions handed down by their respective ancestors. It's only that those traditions are so damn weird, is all.

Lan Zhan is glaring at him. That's probably fair. The last time they'd seen each other, Wei Ying had been digging through Lan Zhan's garbage. They'd made eye contact over the shredded bags, the week's trash scattered around him like stinky, oversized Lego. Lan Zhan's eyes had been wide with horror, and Wei Ying's had been equally wide with feigned innocence. He'd reached out slowly, maintaining the eye contact, and then flipped over the food waste bin full of onion peel and carrot skin as a distraction and slunk off into the night. Probably not his finest moment. - Modern AU dragon!LWJ meets fox!WWX.

The thought had been niggling at the back of his mind quite a bit lately. He wasn’t showing Shang Qinghua proper obeisance, was he? They’d grown so comfortable in their roles - Mobei-Jun as Shang Qinghua’s king, and Shang Qinghua as his dutiful servant - that they hadn’t thought to… stop. It was how it had always been. But things were different, now, weren’t they? They’d been different for a long time now. To ignore that wasn’t proper. That stops now, Mobei-Jun decides. His ancestors would be rolling in their graves to see him ignore the proper rites of courtship - the fact that he and Shang Qinghua were already mated besides. He was not raised to be some kind of country rube, as much as being sequestered so far up north might imply otherwise. Shang Qinghua was his partner, and, with all factors properly calculated, the more powerful of the two. It was only proper that Mobei-Jun display an appropriate level of submission to his better. -- Mobei-Jun realizes with increasing clarity that he wants to serve Shang Qinghua. Shang Qinghua does NOT pick up on it.

It was impossible for anyone to remember every little quirk of this setting. There were too many. Also, Shang Qinghua had come up with some of them on a whim while fueled by nothing but caffeine and noodles. It wasn't his fault for not remembering why oranges were never served on fruit festival day.

"It was a plot point, dude," says Cucumber-bro, in the slow, patient voice of someone speaking to a stupid dog. "It was an actual, literal plot point you typed in with your own like, sinful hands." "No it wasn't," says Shang Qinghua immediately. "I think I would like, fucking remember writing a scene where some chick gets an actual fucking dragon corpse dropped on her door and immediately gives it up for the person who brought it!"

Zhenya checks everything one last time: the artificial slick goes in the pocket of his jeans, and yes, the bottle of wine for Sid’s collection is nestled in a wood box in the back seat. He’d actually gone out and bought cream cheese to make a cheesecake on autopilot before he’d remembered – food is an alpha’s courting-gift, not an omega's. He'd thrown the cream cheese out, and bought the wine the next day.

"The lawyers have found a pretty good loophole," Pat said. "It's not a loophole, it's a long-standing cultural tradition," Mario said, glancing at Sidney. "It's a fucking loophole," Pat reiterated. "But it's a great one."

“What is it that you do, Omega Malkin?” Sid says eventually, tired of the guessing game. Apparently, he’s asked a controversial question. There’s a tension in the air. Mrs. Malkin starts giving a very particular look to her son and Omega Malkin shifts in his seat and straightens his spine like he’s gearing up for a fight. “Hockey,” Omega Malkin says evenly. Sid’s fork slips from his grip and clatters against his plate. He looks up and across the table at Omega Malkin. -- or; Sidney Crosby is an unbonded werewolf. So is Evgeni Malkin.

“I love being an omega,” Mitch says. He’s trying to stick his hair up into soapy spikes as Auston watches him tiredly from the other end of the bathtub. “I don’t have to do things I don’t wanna do and people take care of me. What’s not to like?” He pauses. “Plus, heats are sick.” “Really?” Auston asks, mind racing. Maybe it’s not too surprising. Mitch adores being taken care of, likes being babied and coddled; given gifts and affection. Marty got him a four foot stuffed bear from the cinema arcade a few weeks ago and his whole face lit up when he received it. "You like heat?" “Yeah,” Mitch says, and pats all his hair down before wading through the water, bending over Auston and bumping their noses together. He's smiling all sweet but Auston still feels like prey. “I really like it. You just lie there and take it and it feels so good ‘cause your body wants it so bad.”

Arriving in Vancouver, JT Miller expected a lot of things. He did not, however, expect to meet the sub of his dreams. Nor that the courting would be so intricate. No, JT did not expect Jake Virtanen. But it’s worth it, for in every way Jake is what he’s been searching for. (or the Austen-esque BDSM romance novel)

Liu Qingge gets over his feelings toward Shen Qingqiu. He's promptly courted by newlyweds Shang Qinghua and Mobei-Jun. Eventual MoShangLiu happy ending

Sabito backs up from the table a little, presses his hands against the floor in front of him, and bows so deeply that his forehead almost brushes the tatami. “Please take me as your husband.” Giyū’s glad that Sabito waited until after he’d finished eating, because otherwise he would have probably choked on something in surprise.

There's a pup in Jason's nest. He's here, covered in blood and guts after a long night spent, uh, clearing up some misunderstandings with the drug smugglers over at the docks, and there's a fucking strange pup conked out in his nest. Fuck his body for presenting omega, fuck omega hormones for being catnip for kids, and fuck him for being too soft to kick the brat out.

“He’s traumatized from being brainwashed and imprisoned and can’t submit to an alpha with combat training without either having a panic attack or straight up trying to kill them,” Sam says bluntly. “He’s detoxing off illegal suppressants before we can put him on new ones. Dr. Cho was going to cycle off hers for him, but he burned through faster than we expected.” “So . . . he’s in heat, and there’s nobody around he doesn’t see as a threat?” Darcy summarizes, frowning. “Long story short, yes,” Sam confirms. “. . . and long story long?” Darcy asks skeptically, genuinely unable to help herself. He tells them. “Jesus Christ!”

Look, the Batman may be an eldritch inhuman cryptid, but he still needs an emotional support sidekick, and Tim Drake still doesn't have any consistent adult supervision in his life. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ A cryptid!Batman AU where Superman has explained to newly-cloned Superboy that the Batman is a terrifying eldritch horror given human(-ish) form and Superboy is therefore under the impression that Robin is going to be into weird shit like being brought damning evidence and deadly criminals and dangerous problems to solve and will appreciate being slightly stalked. The Bat-cryptids stalk everybody, right? So it’s like their love language, Superboy figures as he’s collecting a bunch of random shiny trinkets to leave out for Robin like he thinks he's a magpie or a crow or something, and maybe also some nice pebbles to cover the penguin angle just in case. Just stuff he might like to decorate the cryptid-nest Superboy is assuming he has with. Superboy is fully correct about Robin appreciating the weird shit and shiny trinkets and being reciprocally stalked, actually, but now Tim has to figure out how to explain that he's actually just a normal human teenager who just decided that his local protection spirit needed an emotional support sidekick before it could get corrupted into a local vengeance spirit. Though he does like the shinies, please don’t assume this means he doesn’t like the shinies or wants a normal relationship with, god forbid, boundaries about not stalking each other or whatever.

Geralt doesn’t wear his courting jewelry—the medallion is apparently a witcher thing, not an omega one—and Jaskier supposes that makes sense. Geralt leads a very active life, and probably saves the jewelry for situations it won’t run the constant risk of getting ruined in. Certainly a nice set of earrings would be a lot more fragile than the plain studs he wears instead. A lot of omegas don’t wear their courting jewelry day to day, anyway, or at least not most of it. Geralt’s hardly unusual in that. It’s a bit of a shame, though, because Jaskier’d like to see him in it.