Number two... Why is Tumblr recommending me things "based on my likes" but by people I already follow?

Like, I see @bolontiku 's stuff just by scrolling. You don't need to recommend the stuff I'm already going to see.

Yeah, it makes zero sense for them to have been planned in acomaf because that was at the same time she decided that Elain and Lucien would be mates, and that they should be mates because of the fact that their personalities are actually compatible. Nothing happened between Elain and Az in acomaf anyway, besides Azriel realizing that he needed to put Elain at ease and giving her that hot, hot, bland smile.

(Thank you for answering questions for your own fic; fail on my part)

**

Their third date is at a bar that Sonny knows. There are televisions mounted on the walls, but the crowd is generally quiet. He thinks, when he invites Rafael out for the drink, that it's the perfect sort of venue to hang out in before offering to fuck Rafael into the mattress.

Except that Rafael keeps looking past him, and Sonny can't figure out why. He gets up twice, pretending to use the bathroom, to try and figure out who's grabbing Rafael's attention. No one jumps out, not even the two extra-attractive people near the back. They seem very mellow and low-key, not Rafael's type at all (Sonny is very aware he's an over-excited type, thanks).

"Okay, I give up," Sonny says when they're two drinks in and Rafael looks away again. "What the fuck are you looking at?"

Rafael looks him in the eyes. He doesn't look embarrassed, but he holds himself stiffly. "What?"

"What the fuck are you looking at?" Sonny repeats. "You're responding to me, but you don't seem like you're really here. If you don't want to be here--"

"I like where I am," Rafael says in a rush. He looks down at his drink, then back over Sonny's shoulder, exactly where he's kept glancing the whole night. "It's Pens against Sharks," he says. "And the rookie goalie keeps coming out of the crease when Sid's on the ice."

Sonny turns around and realizes that Rafael's been looking at the televisions the entire time. "Wait. You're a hockey guy?"

"Maybe?" Rafael says to Sonny. "Goddamnit, would you back the fuck up," he mutters to the television.

Sonny feels a laugh building up. He takes a long swallow of his beer to stop it. He doesn't want Rafael to think he's laughing at him. He steps out of his chair, beer in hand, and switches to the seat next to Rafael so he can see the television, too. "I'm a baseball guy, but I've played some hockey. Just tell me who's who, and I can keep up."

Rafael grins, welcome and warm, "If you're up for it."

"I've seen you at your angriest. I'm not gonna get scared if you yell at a television."

"ADA Barba and hockey fan Barba are very different," Rafael says. Sonny grins at him, and Rafael shrugs. "I warned you." He turns back to the television and points. "The goalie is a guy named Chris Chow. He played at Samwell under Jack Zimmermann, who's a forward for the Falconers--"

"Why do I know that name?"

"He's out. He and his boyfriend--husband now--they kissed on center ice a few years ago during the Falcs' cup win."

Sonny thumps his hand on the table. "Yeah. That's it!"

"His husband is named Eric Bittle. He has--"

"Wait, the youtube guy? The baking guy?"

Rafael laughs. "Of course you know him."

"Hey, I have perfected my pecan pie thanks to him."

"I don't think that's how he says that."

"Not my fault he's Southern."

Rafael laughs again, and Sonny can't help but lean over and kiss him. Rafael returns it. When they pull apart, Rafael looks at the television and slams his hand on the table. "GET IN THE FUCKING CREASE, CHOWDER."

Sonny belly laughs and leans against Rafael. "Tell you what, if Crosby scores against him, I'll blow you tonight."

"And if he doesn't?"

"You'll blow me, then I'll blow you."

Rafael slides an arm around Sonny's shoulders, and Sonny presses his face to Rafael's neck. "You've got a--FOR FUCK'S SAKE CHOWDER."

So, like, “spoilers” under the cut? Although I’m pretty sure I spoiled it all in my wild abandon last night. ANWAY.