It takes 140 characters or less and one absolute fucking moron to change Jon's entire life forever. He should have known all along it would be Kaner. It always is.

Trades suck. One way to avoid them? Marrying your best friend.

“Ah, yeah, Desiree, I told you I was meeting someone. Well, that someone is Derek. My boyfriend. We’re totally in love.” His heart was racing and Derek was holding him so tight it was difficult to turn enough to face the young woman. What he did see of her had his breath catching on fishhooks in his throat. She was normally a relatively pretty girl, with cute round cheeks and large dark eyes, but in that moment she looked…terrifying. Her cheeks seemed gaunt, her eyes glowing like they were little windows peeking into a deep pit of raging flame. (Or: Five or so years after the show. Stiles is in college, and finds himself getting stalked by a succubus. Derek's determined that the best way to thwart her is to prove that he and Stiles are madly in love. It's not really as much of an act as either seems to think.)

"I bet you a hundred bucks," Sharpy says, gesturing with his drink to punctuate how very serious he is about this suggestion, "that I can pick up the next person who walks in that door before you can." Duncan Keith probably shouldn't have taken that bet.

It's not until after he's pulled the whole thing off that Jason realizes what a stupid move it was.

Bakugou Katsuki, in typical fashion, makes a brash decision that changes his life irrevocably. Anger has always had a way of bringing Bakugou what he wants, though. He just hadn't realized dating someone would be so fucking difficult. (Or, that one where Bakugou agrees to pretend to date Todoroki just to piss off Endeavor, and ends up falling in love instead.)

"I'm in love with you," Ryan says, desperate. "No, you're in love with the views."

Shane is pacing around the hotel room. It’s not a huge room and Shane’s legs are long enough that he doesn’t have much real estate to pace before he has to swing back around for another loop. “Can you stop?” Ryan asks. “You’re making me dizzy.” “Okay,” Shane says finally. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re just going to—we’re going to be married. The only way out is through.” “Um,” Ryan says, because this plan strikes him as counterproductive to their shared goal of not being married.

[“Okay, but listen,” Zuko says. “I’m listening.” “Did you forget about the capitalist scam happening tomorrow?” He asks. “You know, patron saint of shitty teddy bears and pretending that a few flowers makes up for being emotionally constipated the rest of the year?” Zuko shrugs. “Not like I lied.” “Sounds kind of like you lied.” “He said couple,” Zuko points out, “We are a couple. A couple of people who want a discount.”] Or, Zuko and Sokka work the system.

“I need a favor,” Connor interrupts. That does not make Dylan feel any better. If Connor has to drive them halfway to Guelph to even ask, it must be big. “Of course,” says Dylan at once. Connor frowns at him, sidelong. “Don’t say that before I tell you what it is.” Well, that’s not ominous at all. “What did you do, murder someone and need help hiding the body?” Dylan tries to chirp. Connor’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel.

Jack has tried deflection, dismissal, and flat-out denial, but nothing seems to be able to dissuade the media from the McDavid-Eichel rivalry narrative, which is why he agrees when Connor suggests trying a new tactic: pretending to be friends.

Connor McDavid and Dylan Strome are going to the Toronto Maple Leafs together. Even if they have to get married about it.

Dylan can argue all he wants, but Alex is pretty sure it will work.

"You know how every summer you joke about how I should collar you, for the league rule?" "Yeah?" Sid shoots a sideways look at Nate, but Nate is just sipping his beer, not looking back. "What if I took you up on that?"

He doesn’t want a boyfriend, but he told Connor he’d find one, and he isn’t about to let Worries McHeadache have satisfaction at the hands of Dylan’s failure to find a significant other on Tinder.

Ryuji asks Akira for dating advice. Practice makes perfect.

Tim and Jason go undercover as a just-married couple celebrating their honeymoon in order to catch a high-profile drug lord. Hand-holding, kissing, secret rendezvous and bed sharing ahead. OR: The JayTimWeek prompt I never posted, filled with all of my favorite tropes, inspired by Lana Del Rey’s song - Honeymoon

What started out as Jay jokingly sexting Tim in a bid to make him laugh (and, in his words, 'get that enormous stick out of his little ass') slowly turns into Tim not only no longer being angry with Jay, but, as they continue to jokingly sext each other whenever the instance arises, slowly starting to consider that a friendship may be blooming between them. After a while, it's possible that friendship could start to bloom into something even more, and maybe all that joke-sexting doesn't stay such a joke anymore after all.

Danny’s looking at him like he’s crazy. His hair’s dried up into a mess of waves, and there’s some tomato seeds on the corner of his mouth. “You just bailed me out of jail. And you think this is a good idea?” “I don’t have bad ideas, Fenton. And like you’ve just said, I have collateral on you.” “So you’re blackmailing me into pretending to date you?” Tim shrugs. “Or you could just sign the NDA.” OR Danny's trying to recover all the shards to an entity's chalice so that it'll stop destroying the zone while tensions rise amongst his subjects- and trying to finish high school. Tim's juggling his case load, his work as CEO, and does not have time to be embroiled in a sex scandal right now. If that means he has to pretend to date a very suspicious heir to a rival company, then so be it. It's a mutually beneficial relationship. So what if Tim's becoming a little too intrigued by the illusive, powerful Phantom? So what if Danny can't stand the Justice League for leaving him to deal with all of Amity's problems when he was just 14? That's a superhero thing. And their fake boyfriend has no clue that they're a superhero.