#is it so wrong to hope some version of jon is out there getting therapy? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bluejayblueskies · 3 years

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the before, the after, the in-between

Chapter Seven: daybreak trains Words: 3.3k

Relationships: Jon & Daisy, Jon/Martin Tags: Post-Canon, Scottish Safehouse, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mute Jon, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Hopeful Ending

Work Summary:

There was no knife, no blood, and Jon was not dead. And when he heard a strangled noise from beside him and looked over to see Martin standing in the doorway of the safehouse, flung open and letting in the frigid bite of near-winter and sunlight, there was sunlight, he felt such a dizzying, intense wave of relief that he could hardly breathe around it.

Then, he opened his mouth to say Martin’s name, and nothing came out, and all of the relief fell away in an instant.

Jon wakes up in the safehouse in October of 2018, alive and well but without the Eye and without his voice. In the days that follow, he finds himself confronted with a world that has reset itself in space and in time, a version of himself that is no longer the Archivist, and the fact that death during the end of the world had not been so permanent as it had seemed.

Chapter Summary:

Daisy sighs and stands, brushing her hands off on the thighs of her trousers. “It’s not like you’re never going to see me again. I’ll still visit.”

“I know,” Jon signs, his hand gestures a bit too wide. “I’ll still…” He pauses, his hands lingering in the air for a moment as he tries to figure out what the next sign should be, before giving up and stepping forward instead, reaching for Daisy’s hand and capturing it in his. He squeezes tightly, looking up at Daisy with an open, vulnerable expression. Then, he brings her hand up with his as he presses it against the left side of his chest, a few inches above the jagged line of scar tissue, and settles his other hand on top of it. He may not know how to sign I’ll miss you, but he’d learned love early on.

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(cw for mentions of canon-typical worms)

A quick note that all sign language in this chapter (BSL) is indicated via italics in quotation marks. I recognize that BSL has different grammar and sentence construction than spoken English, but for the purposes of this fic and for clarity’s sake, I’ve written all sign language as it would be translated into English syntax and sentence construction. Further disclaimer that I am not deaf or mute and that I don’t speak any version of sign language, so if I’ve made an error in depicting the dialogue here, please let me know!

Jon raps his knuckles on the frame of the bedroom door, and Daisy glances up from where she’s crouched on the floor next to the bed, halfway through packing her bag next to the cot they’d gotten so Daisy didn’t have to sleep on the couch. (Though they have been saving up for a new couch, a decently nice one that doesn’t sag in the middle and leak stuffing. Martin’s new job at the village’s library pays adequately enough, but in the three months it’s been since the world snapped back to normal, they’ve only managed to accumulate a few hundred pounds in savings. It’s all right though, Jon thinks. They have time.)

“You don’t leave until tomorrow,” Jon signs, his hands still a bit clumsy around the words but adept enough to get his point across. He still carries his notebook with him for when the modest collection of signs Daisy’s been able to teach him so far aren’t enough for him to convey his thoughts, and he has a cell phone now with a speech-to-text app that he uses occasionally even though he finds the mechanical voice grating, but he’s been having to use them less and less. He still likes having the notebook, though. It feels nice to look down and see his words still scrawled on paper even after the conversation is over. A reminder that, for all that his voice has been used and stolen and manipulated over the years, his words are still his own.

“I know,” Daisy says, tucking a few more things in her bag before zipping it closed. She sits on her heels and looks up at him, her hair loose and falling just beneath her chin from where they’d cut it a few weeks prior. “But now it’s done, so.”

Jon sighs lightly and shakes his head, more an expression of resignation than irritation. The spot where Daisy’s things used to sit looks empty now, barren. It makes something heavy settle in the pit of his stomach. It must show on his face, because Daisy sighs and stands, brushing her hands off on the thighs of her trousers. “It’s not like you’re never going to see me again. I’ll still visit.”

Daisy’s hand relaxes underneath his, and she stares at where their hands are clasped, mouth settling into something warm and fond. “Yeah. Me too. But it’s… time.” Her mouth twitches into something halfway displeased. “Basira’s waited long enough.”

She can wait a bit longer, Jon thinks, even as he nods and lets go of Daisy’s hand. Besides, he… he knows she’s right. The longer she stays, the less of a chance there is of her leaving at all, and he knows that it’s for the best if she goes. For her and for him.

That doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Daisy must see the vaguely sullen look on Jon’s face that he’s trying to hide, because she gives Jon an amused look and says, “You’ll be fine. No need to be so… grumpy.”

“I know,” Jon signs again, perhaps a bit more forcefully than is strictly necessary. “I’m not.”

“Sure,” Daisy says, her eyes wandering past his face and over his shoulder, where the door is sitting ajar. Jon knows Martin isn’t out there—that he’s still at work, will be for another hour or so—but he still has to resist the urge to follow her gaze, to check for himself that the doorway remains empty. “You’ve got my number? So you can call if you need to?”

Jon nods, signing the numbers just to make sure, and Daisy hums. “Good. I know the reception’s shit out here, but if I call three times with no response, I’m on the next train to Scotland. Understood?”

Jon rolls his eyes and tries to pretend like the fact that Daisy cares doesn’t make something warm and comforting settle in his chest. “Yes, mother.”

“Don’t be cheeky,” Daisy says, amused.

Daisy’s bag of things—clothing, toiletries, a few other items she’d accumulated over the past few months—sits accusingly by the door as Jon goes through the motions of making dinner, timing it so it’ll be ready by the time Martin gets home. It’s achingly domestic, and though Jon doesn’t really mind it, he’s found himself restless more days than not, hands itching for something to do that isn’t practicing sign language with Daisy or dusting the windowsills for the twentieth time. He thinks he’d be fine finding a job in the village; Martin insists that it’s still too dangerous, that people are still too angry. It’s a recurring argument, so old that almost all of the vitriol has bled out of it by this point, but still, they have it. Every moment he spends confined in this house is just another aching reminder of why he’s confined, and it builds and builds until some part of it springs free and brings with it all the frustration and hurt and pain that he just can’t seem to shake.

Maybe that’s why Jon’s so frustrated about the… therapy situation.

He stabs the knife through the pepper he’s cutting with a bit more force than necessary, and it makes a dull thunk on the cutting board. Daisy glances over from where she’s taking spices out of the cabinet, one eyebrow raised. “You’re going to wear a hole through the plastic if you keep doing that.”

Jon sighs and sends her a withering look. “Thank you,” he signs with a roll of his eyes, the motion sharp and forceful, before turning back to the cutting board and continuing to slice with clipped, jerky motions.

Daisy exhales slowly, turning back to the cabinet. “What’s wrong?” she says, reaching in and sorting through the frankly obscene amount of spices they’ve accumulated over the past few months.

“Nothing,” Jon signs without looking away from the pepper. “It’s fine.”

“Hm.” Daisy locates the spice she was looking for and pulls it out of the cupboard. “Is it because I’m leaving? I told you, it’ll be fine.”

Jon sighs and shakes his head, brushing the cut peppers off to the side and starting in on the onion. Daisy is quiet, busying herself with the spices and clearly waiting for Jon to elaborate. She’s patient, and he knows from experience that she’ll wait and wait and wait until he finally tells her what she wants to know. It reminds him distinctly of a persistence predator, stalking their prey and waiting for them to tire before they pounce.

Jon makes it all the way through the onion, ginger, and mushrooms before he finally sets the knife down with a clatter and signs, “It’s Martin.”

He leaves his hands in the air for a lingering moment, three fingers pressed tightly to the palm of his left hand, before forcibly relaxing his hands and dropping them. After a moment, Daisy prompts, “Okay. It usually is. What about Martin?”

Jon flexes his fingers by his side a few times before resigning himself to the fact that Daisy won’t let this go until he explains himself fully. He turns to gather his notebook from the kitchen table, sets it flat on the counter next to the cutting board, and taps the pen on the page a few times before deciding to just be blunt. I don’t understand how going into town for therapy is different than going into town for any other reason.

Daisy hums. “Are you upset about the therapy part or about the rest of it?”

I’m fine with the therapy part, Jon writes, a bit messily in his haste and frustration. So the rest of it.

Daisy crosses her arms, clearly waiting for him to explain.

It’s just, Jon writes, then scribbles it out. I just don’t understand, he tries, before scribbling that out too. Finally, with a frustrated huff of air, Jon settles on, I don’t think doctor-patient confidentiality is going to be as protective as Martin thinks it will be.

“Hm.” Daisy leans back against the counter and taps her fingers against it thoughtfully. “Maybe he thinks it’s worth the risk.”

Jon makes a breathy hmph sound, not sure if he’s displeased about the fact that this is what finally convinces Martin that it’s ‘worth the risk’ or about the fact that Daisy has a point.

“Why don’t you talk to him about it?” Daisy asks. Which is a perfectly reasonable question, Jon knows, so there’s no reason for him to grow even more frustrated when Daisy asks it.

He sighs, stares at his notebook, and eventually just shrugs wearily. We just haven’t been very good at talking lately, he writes, feeling every bit of his energy seep out into the ink. The end of the last letter bleeds when he leaves his pen pressed there for too long, which he thinks is fitting. That’s sort of the point of the therapy.

It’s not that Jon’s resistant to therapy. He’s not. He’d done a few sessions with a child psychologist when he was eight (that had eventually dropped off when he’d decided that never think about it again and pretend like it never happened was a much better method of coping than trying to explain something unexplainable to a smiling woman in a pantsuit), a good month or two in uni when the stress of it all had compounded and he’d shut off sometime after exams, and they were… fine. He’d taken away a few tools that he still uses—breathing techniques, the occasional bout of journaling that he’d never managed to maintain, things to help him at least identify when his thoughts begin to spiral—but nothing had really ever seemed substantial enough to justify going back. Even when things had gotten… bad, in the Archives, he’d never entertained the thought, because what would he say? He’d sat in his flat after Prentiss, laptop open as he scrolled through the available services, and found the phone number he was meant to call. His wounds itched underneath his bandages; he tried not to scratch them. The ones in his mind were a bit more difficult to let be.

He hadn’t called, in the end. He’d imagined it—sitting in a sterile office, bandages from head to toe, trying to explain being half-eaten alive by worms without saying those words—and had felt a lump that was equal parts desperation and despair rise in his throat, so acute that he’d shut his laptop with a bit more force than necessary. Therapy just… wasn’t in the cards for him, he’d decided.

And then things had gotten more complicated, and he’d been paranoid then on the run then comatose then just trying to fight against the hunger, and he’d resigned himself to the fact that he… he couldn’t be helped. Every aspect of his life was so entwined with things that he couldn’t explain to someone else, with things that a therapist wouldn’t understand, and to try to separate the parts of him that were human from the parts of him that weren’t seemed like an impossible task. Better just… not to try at all, he’d decided. He’d be fine. He always was.

Jon supposes that now, the problem is quite the opposite. Before, he’d avoided talking about the parts of himself that were supernatural because the therapist wouldn’t understand. Now, he’s avoiding talking about them because they’ll understand a bit too well.

“I think you’re still meant to try,” Daisy says, and Jon’s confused for a moment before he remembers oh, right. Talking to Martin. “Besides, he’ll… be able to help more than I can. I can’t tell you what he’s thinking; only he can.”

Almost flippantly, Jon signs, “I know.” He sighs and, after a moment, writes, I think it’ll be easier if I just trust him on this. If he thinks it’s safe, then

Jon pauses, pen still sitting on the paper, before finishing with a bit more conviction than he feels, then it’s safe.

Daisy just watches him for a moment, forehead slightly creased, before shrugging. “All right. If you need somebody to tell you that that’s fine, then here I am—telling you that it’s fine.”

“Thanks,” Jon signs with a fond sigh and a roll of his eyes. “Very helpful.”

“You’ve got to work on your ‘sarcastic’ face, or I’m going to start taking you seriously.”

“Ha ha.”

“Hm. Much better.”

. . .

The bus from the village to the train station in Inverness leaves just after dawn. Jon shifts from side to side by the door to the safehouse as Daisy does a final check to ensure she hasn’t forgotten anything, Martin trailing close behind. When they finally join him by the door, Martin hardly has time to open his mouth before Jon signs, quick and crisp, “I’m coming with.”

“Jon—” Martin starts, but Jon shakes his head.

More emphatically, he signs, “I’m. Coming. With.” When Martin opens his mouth again to argue, Jon holds up a hand, digs his notebook out of the pocket of his jacket, and scribbles, If we can visit a therapist for the foreseeable future, I can go into town once to say goodbye.

Martin’s lips purse, but after a moment, he sighs. “No, you’re- you’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just…”

“Scared?” Jon signs, one hand still holding the notebook and the other brushing against his chest.

Martin’s expression deepens, and he nods.

Jon worries his bottom lip between his teeth, then reaches forward and takes Martin’s hand in his. He squeezes it gently, reassuringly, then threads their fingers together and holds it tightly. Martin takes a deep breath, lets it out, and squeezes back. “Okay,” he whispers. “Sorry. I just- I worry.”

I know, Jon thinks. He nods and fumbles to tuck the notebook back in his pocket, then brushes his fingers gently against Martin’s cheek. I’ll be okay.

He hopes the sentiment comes across. He thinks it does, from the way Martin leans slightly into his touch and takes another, more even breath.

“I think I’ve got everything,” Daisy says, breaking through the tension between them a bit indelicately but not without purpose. “We should start walking.”

Martin presses his face into Jon’s hand for a moment more before pulling away, and Jon drops his hand back to his side. “Yeah,” Martin says with a short, firm nod. “Let’s go.”

The trip to the village is surprisingly short. It might be because of the anticipation building in Jon’s stomach, half from the knowledge that he has at best another hour with Daisy and half from the clawing worry that he’s horribly miscalculated and the moment he steps past the village limits, an angry mob will coalesce around them and demand reparation for all of Jon’s past mistakes.

It doesn’t happen. They arrive at the village and the streets are quiet, most people still asleep or preparing for the day as the sun tickles at the horizon, tinting the landscape around them with a soft morning blue. The few people they do pass pay them no mind, save for an older gentleman who wishes Martin a good morning and nods politely at Jon and Daisy. As they get closer to the bus station, Jon relaxes in increments until, by the time they reach it, he’s nearly free of tension entirely. A new wave of anxiety rushes through him as he sees the small crowd clustered by the pickup area, but they stay away from the crowds, instead stopping a bit further away near a grouping of benches. Jon settles down gratefully, the walk having made the ache in his knee flare up slightly, and after a moment, Martin and Daisy sit down as well, one on either side of him. They’re warm and solid, and even as a few more people begin to filter into the station, Jon relaxes once again as he stretches his leg in front of him carefully.

The bus is there too soon. Jon cuts off halfway through his sentence, his pen pressed against the paper as the rumble of the bus fills the air and people start to shift and stand, making their way towards where the bus is slowly rolling to a stop. He looks at Daisy, suddenly feeling a bit lost, and she places her hand atop his and applies a gentle, firm pressure. “Call,” she reminds him. “Twice a week, at minimum. I expect you to be alive and well when I come back to visit, okay?”

Jon takes a deep breath. When he lets it out, it hitches in his throat. “Okay,” he signs. He flutters his hands in the air for a moment, caught between signing I love you and Be safe, then gives up and leans forward, wrapping Daisy in a tight hug instead.

She huffs out a laugh, but after a moment her arms curl around him and she settles her hands flat against his lower back, pressing down lightly. “Yeah, yeah,” she says softly. “I’ll miss you too.”

And then she’s standing and walking towards the bus and boarding and the bus is pulling away and then it’s just him and Martin, sitting side-by-side on the bench and watching the bus disappear from their line of sight. After a moment, Martin settles his hand on Jon’s knee and says quietly, “You okay?”

Jon takes a deep breath, lets it out, and nods. “Let’s go home?”

Martin nods, shifting his hand so it slips into Jon’s and squeezing tightly. “If you’re sure.”

Jon runs the fingers of his free hand along the cover of his notebook, now lying closed on his lap. The back half is filled with words, thoughts, some carefully inked and others scratched down quickly before Jon forgot them. He has another two just like this one, tucked away in his drawer in the bedroom underneath his jumpers. There’s so much contained within them, so much more that’s still contained within himself, and the path ahead—the one where he sits side-by-side with Martin and faces a trained professional and tries to iron them all out into something manageable—is a daunting one. But he wants to try. God, he wants to try. So badly he aches with it.

“I’m sure,” he signs, then reaches down and picks up his notebook and pen. For all the uncertainty he’s faced in the past, all that he still faces, that, at least, is clear to him.

“All right.” Martin bumps his knee gently against Jon’s once before standing, helping Jon to his feet. Jon’s knee twinges in protest, and without missing a beat, Martin slips his hand out of Jon’s and around his back instead, subtly supporting his weight as they make their way out of the station and back to the paved road that turns to gravel that turns to dirt that leads to the small wooden cottage at the top of the hill.

Right now, the soil outside their house is dark and barren. But in a few months’ time, Jon knows, it will grow warm and the days will grow longer and he will be able to sit outside and look at the sky and think of just how lucky he is that he’s allowed to have this. That, despite all of the bad that has happened and all of the bad that has followed them still, he’s allowed to be happy.

And in the spring, the daisies will bloom once again.

#tma #the magnus archives #jaisy week #jonathan sims #daisy tonner #martin blackwood #my writing #my fic #before tag #ahh i did it! it's done! :D #also a note that the sign jon uses for martin here is just the letter 'm' and isn't a sign name

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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What If…? Episode 5 Review: Magnificent Marvel Zombie Chaos

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This review contains spoilers for Marvel’s What If…? episode 5.

Episode 5 of Marvel’s What If…?, entitled ‘What If…Zombies!?’, is a tremendously fun half hour of television, and is also likely to be a really good time for fans of the Marvel Zombies comics.

The installment is packed with laughs and shocking moments, using classic zombie tropes to keep some of the best and most underrated MCU characters on their toes while maintaining an enviable pace as it throws one wild scenario after another at them.

As you may know by now if you’ve been reading our weekly What If…? reviews, they’re adopting a slightly different format. More of a breakdown that we hope will satisfy die-hard Marvel fans but also help younger viewers and those less familiar with the MCU keep up.

Alright! Now, let’s dig into ‘What If…Zombies!?’, which ponders what would have happened if Janet van Dyne had contracted a terrible virus during her time in the Quantum Realm.

Required viewing

It helps to have seen all the MCU movies leading up to Avengers: Infinity War, but perhaps Spider-Man: Homecoming, Black Panther and the first two Ant-Man films are the most essential watches. There are also a fair few gut punches for any WandaVision fans in the building, and whomst amongst us is not?

Voice cast

Our Watcher Uatu is of course Jeffrey Wright, Chadwick Boseman is T’Challa/Black Panther, Paul Rudd is Scott Lang/Ant-Man, Mark Ruffalo is Bruce Banner/Hulk, Evangeline Lily is Hope van Dyne/Wasp, Sebastian Stan is Bucky Barnes, Paul Bettany is Vision, Jon Favreau is Happy Hogan, Danai Gurira is Okoye, Emily VanCamp is Sharon Carter, David Dastmalchian is Kurt, and Tom Vaughan-Lawlor is Ebony Maw.

The missing voice here is Tom Holland. Musician and Mad Men actor Hudson Thames fills in as Peter Parker/Spider-Man in episode 5.

What’s different?

Bruce Banner in Hulk form returns to Earth via the Bifröst just as he did at the start of Avengers: Infinity War, but this time when he crashes down into the Sanctum Sanctorum he finds Iron Man, Wong and Doctor Strange already turned into flesh-eating zombies.

Bruce is thankfully saved by Hope van Dyne and her swarm of ants, and Peter Parker whisks him off while we get some helpful exposition.

In this universe, Hank Pym’s Ant-Man and the Wasp journey to the Quantum Realm to retrieve his long-lost wife Janet went badly wrong when he found her infected by a quantum zombie brain virus upon his arrival. When she returned, Janet started gnawing on everything within reach and the virus spread like wildfire, quickly infecting millions. Cap, Widow, Hawkeye, Iron Man and Black Panther apparently set out with arguably the worst Cap plan ever to turn back the tide, and disappeared under a pile of hungry zombies.

Banner finds himself among the last of the still-human holdouts. Bucky Barnes, Okoye and Sharon Carter are tracking a signal from Camp Lehigh that may or may not provide a solution to the zombie problem. Along with Happy Hogan and Kurt (who I still don’t think has a last name), the gang forge a loose, Train to Busan-y mission to try and reach Camp Lehigh.

Unfortunately, they are attacked by numerous familiar faces before they set out, and Happy is turned into a zombie, further dampening Peter’s hopes for a W. They eventually get aboard a train, but Zombie Cap climbs on and Bucky has to fight him, which leads to a small sliver of time with Bucky as Cap when he nabs his shield.

Hope gets infected, but helps the rest of the gang get to Camp Lehigh, where they find Vision experimenting with the Mind Stone, and Scott and T’Challa still alive (to varying degrees). Okoye realizes they can use Vision’s research to cure the zombie population, but only from Wakanda where the tech they need could be easily constructed.

Vision’s base turns out to be a bit of a trap. He’s been luring people there to feed a contained – and admittedly extremely cool-looking – Zombie Wanda, as he couldn’t bear to lose her (gulp). His guilt gets the better of him when his friends are attacked by Wanda, and T’Challa, Peter and Scott Lang’s head escape Camp Lehigh and fly to Wakanda while Banner Hulks out and attacks the hoard.

How does it work out?

Oof, not good. Earth seems utterly screwed. Scott is still a head in a jar being supportively cuddled by The Cloak of Levitation, T’Challa is missing a leg, Peter is clinging on to his last shred of hope, and the safe haven of Wakanda plays host to an Infinity Gauntlet-wielding zombie Thanos. Yikes.

Standout moments

There were so many fantastic moments in episode 5 that it will probably require a rewatch or two to catch them all!

First, I’ve gotta give a shout-out to the The Cloak of Levitation. It really is the gift that keeps on giving – kind of like the MCU’s version of a silent movie star. That thing has surely saved the day as many times as the Avengers by now, and it asks for nothing in return. The Cloak of Levitation always knows the assignment, and always delivers.

You’ll be unsurprised to learn that I also loved Peter’s glorious zombie training video, which started off with a distinct Mutant Enemy-esque ident. What a smorgasbord of joy! Kurt’s ketchup-squirting special effects, Bucky listed as “silent but deadly”, Happy forced to wear a custom Thor shirt of questionable origin. This instructional clip had everything, didn’t it?

Peter’s struggle to keep hope alive in the zombie apocalypse is an arc that has almost certainly been pulled from Philip Kennedy Johnson’s spectacular Marvel Zombies: Resurrection run, and it’s just as affecting in this episode as it was in the pages of Marvel Comics. Peter can always be relied upon to maintain his earnest spirit until the bitter end.

Both Kurt and Happy were terrific additions in this episode. Happy’s insistence on yelling “blam!” every time he used the repulsor glove reminded me of Ewan McGregor’s behind the scenes Star Wars: The Phantom Menace story, where he admitted that he made lightsaber noises out loud when he was filming. Apparently, McGregor did it so much that the post-production crew ended up having to edit in louder lightsaber sounds to cover it all up.

Of course, the continuing heartbreak of Vision and Wanda’s relationship was once again ready to twist the emotional knife. In WandaVision, Wanda couldn’t help but use her Chaos Magic to keep Vision around after his death, but here we see that Vision arguably went to more disturbing lengths to contain a zombified Wanda. It was even hard to cope with the monstrous Wanda finding Vision’s lifeless body, and yet Marvel still refuses to pay for my therapy.

See you again next week!

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thebachrehash · 6 years

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I don’t mind being assertive, I’m a Wilhelmina model

Ladies and gents, it’s time for the prerequisite “Shout the Bach’s name from the balcony” intro. “Becaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!”

We immediately jump in with the always charming Chris Harrison handing out the first group date card reading, “Ready for my big day.”

Clay, Nick, Chris, David, Jean Blanc, Jordan, Connor, and Lincoln cheese grin their way to meet Becca at a mansion with her in a (gorg) white dress. She let’s them know that she wants to pamper the men like she was on her first date with Arie... because that went well. The men drop trou and Becca is officially ready to get back in the game. She calls Lincoln a block of muscle. Jordan, while doing the “pensive”, let’s her know that he is a male model, and that the largest tip he could give her any day is to put the confidence on in the morning before her panty hose. Not sure who’s wearing panty hose these days (besides my mom - hi, Kath!), but now we know.

The men roll out in their tuxes, to the poor man’s version of a Survivor obstacle course and are greeted by the poor man’s version of Ashton and Mila - Rachel and “not-Peter”, Bryan. They’re there to help host “Groomsday”, and they warn they will have to get dirtay.

In order to see if the men have what it takes to be marriage material, they will go through a strange obstacle course complete with standing in a cold tub of water and eating cake without their hands. Rachel (dirty, dirty girl) shouts it’s important to see, “what that mouth do.” Connor gets the largest kick out of it, as he sends it to Barstool.

Lincoln is in it to win it to reach his “beautiful princess” Becca. He is cheating. He is cheating blatantly. But, there are no rule keepers, this is the f’ing Bach. Well, there are no rule keepers except for tattle tale Chris who knows that he got in the bucket after him and left before him.

In a really messy battle for the finishline, Lincoln beats out Chicken David. He gets to plant a kiss on Becca and they take their wedding day picture. Seems innocent enough. If only it was.

Chris Harrison let’s them all know that EVERYONE will be able to attend the rest of the group date. Ya hear that Krystal.

So the men all convene at a round couch, and Lincoln steals his “wife” immediately as they “just got married”. He says something like, “she would only get the best from him when she gives her best and that makes them the best and he wants nothing more for her than the best.” Becca goes, “Hmmm, well that’s nice, I have something for you.” Thinking it’s the rose, Lincoln sits up all ready for Santa to come down the chimney. Instead, Becca brings a photo from their wedding day. It’s cute and Lincoln is very excited.

Lincoln returns to the men a smitten kitten and shares something about unicorns and Pegasus and a pot of gold, and prominently displays his prized possession, his photo of the two of them.

Connor is NOT having this. He thinks it’s a slap in the face that he would put this picture out. Bro, needs to chill a bit, but Lincoln is weird and being extra,

Meanwhile, Becca is bonding with the men.

Chris woos her in telling her that he wants to treat her the way he treats his mom and sister. David wants to be pushed intellectually and she couldn’t agree more. Clay is here for her and he wants her to get to know the real him.

Back at the couch, Lincoln is now kissing the picture of him and Becca. Connor throws it. Lincoln picks it up. Connor finally opens the door and frisbees it into the pool.

Lincoln, just a little dramatically, proclaims that his heart is broken. He starts to tear up, he was looking forward to sharing this with his mom. Picturegate has begun.

Back in the private lounge our Jean Blanc must be spraying some special, soothing scents onto Miss Becca. He lets her know that she is the missing part of his life and that she makes him feel so special. He takes all the courage from his ck one spritz, and tells her the only thing more beautiful than her smile is her lips. They smooch.

Before Becca can make it back to the other men, she is stopped by Lincoln. He lets her know that, not only did he lose his beloved picture, but he feels threatened physically. what.is.going.on

Becca pulls Connor aside on what has become a date in a pre-school. She is over it. She wonders if Connor is a roid-rager slash if this is his regular reaction. He agrees that it was way over the top. She said she’ll take some time to think about it, but it’s probably not the best time to get to know one another.

Becca gathers them all together and says it had definitely been an interesting and revealing night. Jean Blanc gets the group date rose. He tells her to pin it on the leather, “he don’t even care.” He’s so excited, it’s v. cute.

It’s time for Blake’s one on one date.

He’s pumped that he gets to roll out in a limo instead of on an ox. Small pleasures.

Becca fills him in that she has no idea what they’ll be doing as Chris Harrison planned this one. They get to the area that is a “little run down” and see Chris with a sledgehammer waiting for them. They’re asked to put on little work jumpers (Becca’s complete with a belt from Charming Charlie), helmets and Tims. Then, they’re both given their own sledgehammers.

They go inside and “TURN DOWN FOR WHAT?!”

This is where everything from Arie’s season went to die. Chris and, um what?!? Lil Jon let them know that they’re gonna get to destroy everything in the room. Immediately Becca climbs that racecar and smashes in the windows. This is FABULOUS.

Carrie Underwood would be proud.

I have zero idea why Lil Jon is there, but am so VERY happy that Blake is a “huge fan of his”. Sure you are Blakey boy.

The two of them proceed to make the whitest rap video ever, and Blake is so happy to see Becca so happy. I am cheese grinning my way through watching it.

Post wrecking crew, they sit down to dinner. They’re ridiculously comfortable with each other for just the first date. Blake shares his heartbreak over his most recent relationship where he thought he was with the one. In positive news, he said it was worth it, because now he knows what he wants, and knows that he is capable of loving like that. Becca empathizes. I am having a hard and fast therapy session with both of them. Through the pain, they have found so much strength that they never knew was in there. I’m not crying, you’re crying.

Blake clearly gets the rose, and states to the camera: “I have no idea how Arie let her go.” I love him.

It’s time for the second group date of the week... “Love comes at you hard and fast.”

Well it comes hard and fast, except for poor Jason and Mike who are the only dateless men of the week.

The men for Group date #2 (Alex, Christon, Colton, Garrett, John, Leo, Rickey, Ryan, Trent, and Wills), board a school bus and head to a gym where they are greeted with some fabulous, tyrannical child actors.

Becca, in her 24387948th metallic outfit of the season, informs that the men that they are going to be playing some good old-fashioned dodgeball. But first, these children will warm them up a la suicides (can we call them that anymore?!?) and pelting them with 70 mph dodgeballs; all while calling them TRASHHHHHH and somehow still making fun of Arie. These kids are amaze.

They get set for the game, and the team with Becca all make the wise choice to hide behind her. However, Christon don’t give a F and proceeds to belt Becca a number of times. Spoiler alert: this doesn’t work out well for him in the end.

The men and Becca then move on to skyzone, where they’re to play a large game of trampoline dodgeball in front of a v. confused crowd, Chris Harrison, and Fred Willard. Why tho?

Poor, pretty haired Leo is flying through the air and is in all his stuntman glory. However, the rest of his team, complete with a former pro football player, suck to high heavens. He is continually the only man left standing. After three rounds, the green team wins and gets a trophy.

In probably his only soundbite of the season, Alex snarkly asks if it’s cool to display the trophy to the pink team. Somewhere back at the ranch, Lincoln is crying again.

Becca gets her alone time with the men. Garrett and her dork out together, Leo gets a little romantical, and she compliments Wills style while he almost tears up talking about his parents’ 50th anniversary coming up. They share a kiss, and I think he kind’ve gave her his varsity jacket.

But, it wouldn’t be a group date without a bombshell.

Pretty boy Colton fesses up that he had a former relationship with Weiner, Arkansas Tia. Becca is visibly shook and doesn’t really know what to think. Did he come on the Bach hoping it would actually be Tia? Is he a fame whore? Is he a whore?

So many questions.

In the end, she gives the group date Rose to Wills and his uneven scruff. He’s happy, and Colton is nervous he’s gonna get the boot.

It’s time for the cocktail hour, and Becca is trying to not question what the f is wrong with all of these dudes. She said she’s a lot more emotional than she thought she would be.

Clay pulls her outside to show her how he would celebrate scoring a touchdown. Somehow he makes this boring, but he does score a kiss. Me, and all of America, can name at least 10 other tight ends we would rather see on this show right now. I’m looking at you, Gronk.

Venmo John pulls her aside and they make out. Connor puts his tail between his legs and gives her a picture of him. It breaks the ice and i think they’re cool now.

Chicken David is having what seems like a decently lovely conversation when Jordan decides it’s time to parade around in his undies and a pink furry blankie. Jordan interrupts and Becca is questioning Jordan. Is this a joke?

Post convo, Chicken David confronts Jordan and stutters when telling him he was being disingenuous. Jordan chooses this time to not only correct him, but to inform David that he’s the one being in-genuine-titty.

For the record, Jordan would also like everyone to know that he doesn’t want to be misrepresented as 007 all the time. He likes to live life on the edge, but while doing so he likes to have well kept hair. He’s multi-dimensional. He doesn’t mind being assertive, he is in FACT a Wilhelmina model. And he’d like to think he’d score a little higher than a typical male model on “that” test.

So, he wouldn’t light the cig at the gas station while sipping on his orange mocha frappuccino? You be the judge.

Before handing out the roses, Becca lets Colton know that she needs more clarity before getting to know him further. She has to think a bit. Colton is scared he’s going home. Obvs, he would NEVER, well not until we can get Tia to come on a date and make this some good tv.

At the rose ceremony we say good-bye to Alex (and that SUPER sad tearful good-bye), Christon (that’s what you get for pelting her with a dodgeball), Rickey and Trent.

Power Rankings

1 - Blake (+2) - Solid connection, I heart him

2 - Wills (+2) - There’s something there... he’s chill, and a fab dresser

3 - Garrett (-2) - Dropping for air time and his scandalous likes on the gram

4 - Jean Blanc (+9) - Coming in hot and smelling good too

5 - Chris (+10) - Coming back hot from being the tattle tale in Episode 1

6 - Leo (+6) - Thiiiiis close to getting the group date rose this week

7 - Colton (-5) - Bringing the drama with the Tia card, and yet still having a v-card? There’s no way he’s going anywhere soon.

8 - Jason (+1) - No date, but played it calm and cool

9 - Lincoln (-3) - I mean, they got married, but I want him to go

10 - Jordan (+1) - Literally, NOTHING in common, but I’ll keep him for his confidence and commentary

11 - Clay (-4) - Yawning

12 - John (-2) - Cashed in on a make-out... I’m impressed

13 - David (-5) - He’s geeky, but trying

14 - Mike (+5) - Tim Riggins is due for some time next week

15 - Connor (+1) - picturegate is over?!?!

16 - Nick (+5) - Hanging in the background

17 - Ryan (-) - Get your banjo out and play it man!

#bachelorette #thebachelorette #becca #beccakufrin #chrisharrison #bachelorabc #bacheloretteabc

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