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➠ New Muse Added: Benjamin McKenzie - OC

✘ stats

muse level: primary

fc: dan stevens

type: oc

age: 37

gender: cis male

pronouns: he/him

sexuality: bisexual

occupation: small town cop / former homicide detective in NYC

✘ notes

This is my grumpy man who refuses to believe in the paranormal, even though he has a history of seeing and interacting with ghosts. Below the cut is a ficlet detailing his background.

It all started when I was ten years old. The summer of 1997 in Falmouth, Massachusetts was an unusually hot one. I spent my days out of the house, playing in a creek bed that ran through a forest behind my house. That was where I met Bobby Brinley who was one year older than me. We'd meet everyday out there and play pirates, or cops and robbers. We even built a small tree fort with scrap wood we "borrowed" from my dad's garage. I liked Bobby. He was kind and outgoing. His energy never seemed to dim. We could play in that forest for hours on end until the sun went down we had to part ways for supper.

It was near the end of that summer, late at night, when my parents' voices woke me from my sleep. They were agitated. It wasn't entirely unusual for them to have quarrels now and again, but hearing my name piqued my interest. I crawled out of bed and sat on the floor by the old air vent where I could hear the echoes of their argument with perfect clarity.

"It's not normal, Susan! How can you encourage this?"

"Imaginary friends are a good sign of creativity. Besides, wouldn't you rather he be outside in the fresh air instead of rotting away on the couch all day with video games like those Kelley boys do?"

"Bobby Brinley??"

There was a feminine sigh of exasperation. "He probably heard the name on the news or something."

"You know who my imaginary friend was? Blackbeard. A man of legend and fame. Christ, he could even make someone up for all I care. But ours is the only boy who's imaginary friend is the murdered dead kid they found in the river those years ago!"

That was all I remembered of the argument before a ringing in my ears took over. I stayed up the whole night, unable to sleep as I puzzled over what that meant. When morning came, I ran out of the house so fast that I barely stopped to grab a Pop-Tart on my way. Just as I had for weeks before, I went to the spot at the creek bed to meet Bobby. Only this time, he wasn't there. I yelled his name. I waited for hours. The sun eventually got low in sky, shadows growing longer, when I realized that he wasn't coming. In fact, I'd never see Bobby Brinley again.

The experience didn't instill a belief in the supernatural. Quite the opposite. Even as a child with a wild imagination, I knew that ghosts had no place in reality. I was twelve when I was allowed to use the microfiches in the library by myself. I poured over every article I could find that mentioned Bobby Brinley. Though he was found in the river, he died of strangulation. The killer was never found. A new obsession was ignited within me. I wanted justice for my friend. I wanted justice for all the children who's lives were snuffed out too early while their killers walked free. I studied to become a cop, and eventually, I moved away from the placid little town of Falmouth and became a homicide detective in New York City.

I was damn good at my job, able to notice the small details that most people overlook. Maybe I was too good. I never settled down or married or anything like that. My life was the job, but I didn't mind it that way.

At least, not until that night last November when my very beliefs would be tested to their core.

Homicide in the big apple is no walk in the park. I see the worst of the worst, day in and day out. Things that make an Eli Roth film look like a kid's movie. Though the majority of my cases are one-off's, like petty squabbles turned deadly or mindless thievery gone wrong, every now and then a real sicko comes across my desk. I was working a serial case, trying to track the killer before he could strike again.

It was late that November night and rain pelted the windshield of my old 1970 Chrysler 300. The car was built like a tank, painted tan and chugging along down the street. There had been a phone tip about unusual activity at a particular house in a little suburban neighborhood and I wanted to do a drive by to see the place for myself. The rain made reading the addresses on the houses difficult. As I was squinting to make one out, I suddenly caught sight of the figure in the road. Slamming on the breaks, the Chrysler squealed to a stop before I could hit the girl in the street. Her hands were up and she was screaming, pleading for help. Leaning across the velvet bench seat, I unlocked the passenger side door and she quickly took the invite and hopped in. The poor girl had to be no more than twenty. She wore blue cotton shorts and a pink tank top with no shoes. She shivered as her long, brown curly hair dripped around her face.

I turned on the heat and started again down the road. "The station's not far from here. I'll get you help. You're safe now," I tried to reassure her.

"No!" she yelled. "Right! Turn right! Turn right now!"

There was such a frantic determination in her voice that I was compelled to comply. That's when I heard her mumble a number over and over. It wasn't hard to decipher that she was giving me the address. "Fifty-one fifty-two. Fifty-one fifty-two. Fifty-one fifty-two."

When I saw 5148, I knew I was close. Grabbing my radio, I called for back up, having no idea what I was walking into. Then 5152 Elm Lane came into view. The small, one story house sat dark, appearing as though it were trying to look hidden on the street. "This one?"

The girl looked right at me, opened her mouth, and let out a heart rattling scream. It startled me and I jumped slightly, but quickly composed myself. She was clearly under duress. "It's ok, it's ok. Stay in the car and lock the doors. I'll be right back, okay? Lock the doors." I grabbed my gun from the glove compartment, checked the chamber, the holstered it before getting out into the unrelenting rain. Catching her eye, I pointed at the door handles and she understood, leaning over to lock the doors of the old car. Satisfied that she was safe, I headed into the house.

"This is the police! Is anyone home?" The first thing that hit me was a wave of a putrid scent. I knew that sickening smell all too well. It was the smell of death. This was definitely the right house. "I'm armed! Come out slowly." Unnerving silence was the only reply I got.

Gun held, just as I was trained, I slowly made my way through the living room and towards the kitchen, straining my ears for any sound that didn't belong. "I repeat, this is the police and I'm ar-" A sudden movement whipped behind me before something large and heavy was brought down on my head. Knees buckled and I fell to the linoleum floor, trying to blink away the stars in my eyes. Looking up, I saw a young man standing over me, the bat in his hands raised above his head. I was startled to see how normal he looked. Clean cut, short blonde hair, jeans and a sweatshirt. But those eyes... There was nothing in those brown eyes, even as they widened to show off the whites all around the irises. They were dead eyes, and I knew they were the eyes of a killer.

The bat swung again and I felt a sharp pain in my fingers as my gun went skittering across the floor. I stared up at him, waiting for the final blow as he raised the bat once more. Instead of my skull being cracked in, I heard two gun shots. A small spray of blood hit my cheek and I looked up to see the crazed man fall to his knees, a look of disbelief written across his face as he hunched over onto the floor.

Back up had arrived in the nick of time. As the cop tended to the wounded assailant, I grabbed up my gun and got to my feet. "McKenzie!" I heard the familiar voice of my partner yell from down the hall. "Get in here! You'll wanna see this." I knew instantly that the sight that awaited me was in fact something I'd never want to see, but something I had to. Joining my partner in one of the bed rooms, I was met with a grisly sight indeed. A young girl lay sprawled across the bed, her limbs tied down. She wore blue cotton shorts and a pink tank top. Her eyes were open with the unmistakable vacant look of death in them. It was the long, curly brown hair that stood out for me.

"Jones. What about the girl in my car?" I asked, unable to tear my eyes from the body.

"What girl in your car?" Jones replied quizzically. I met her gaze and saw that my partner was speaking in earnest.

Without explanation, I hurried out of the bedroom, down the hall and out the front door of the house. In the driveway sat my 1970 Chrysler 300. Empty. But the locks on the doors were still down, showing that it had been locked from the inside.

That was the last case I worked in NYC. After packing up, I moved back to Falmouth and took a job as a cop there, hoping for a quieter life. And therapy. Oh, there was so much therapy. Because surely the problem was with my head and not actual ghosts, right?

Surely there couldn't be ghosts...

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「 josh is getting his own blog! still a side to @hargrove so follow backs are from there 」

✘ @joshinyou ✘

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Sam: Imagine searching your whole life for the chosen one who will destroy the matrix and save the human race and you find him and he’s fucking Keanu Reeves

Josh: YOU FIND HIM DOING WHAT?

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「 I have a josh url saved... 」

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➠ @jesvshotsaucechristmascake asked: “ i’m not sure i know who i’m supposed to be anymore. ”

.·:*¨ ✘★✘ ¨*:·.  Josh considered the words carefully. He hadn't known Mike to be the doubtful type, but in the wake of the horrors they found on Blackwood Mountain, it seemed he was learning a lot about his friend that he didn't know before. One thing Josh did know for sure, though, was that Mike wasn't usually the type to talk about such vulnerability. He was good at keeping up the good natured, party boy façade. That made the confession hit all the more harder.

The pair had been sitting on Josh's back deck, sharing a joint. Wolfie seemed all too happy to be outdoors and was currently lounging by the pool, panting happily. The sun was starting to go down, making things a little cooler, but it was still nice out in Josh's opinion. "Maybe that's your problem," he offered, no hint of a joke or tease in voice. "Maybe you're not supposed to be anyone. Your mom's way too intense with your appearance, but it's not just her. In school, you always seemed to do whatever just to make your friends happy. Even Emily walked all over you when you guys were together. Not trying to be harsh, bro, but you literally went through hell. Fuck man, not even all of you made it back." He glanced to the missing fingers briefly.

"Maybe instead of 'supposed to be', you should be asking what you 'could be'." He shook his head and grabbed the joint from the ash tray, lighting it up for another toke. "Shit, I sound like an army ad." He breathed in, then added in clarification, "What do you want to be?" Exhaling the smoke, the offered the joint.

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➠ @actiongrrl asked: “ when i’m in a crowd i just want to melt away and yet, when i’m alone it’s somehow worse. ”

.·:*¨ ✘★✘ ¨*:·.  It was June and the La Jolla beach weather was giving good reason to the nickname of June Gloom. Gray clouds overhead blocked out much of the sun and the sea breeze chilled everything to the balmy low sixties. Not the coldest, but still not the thought that 'SoCal Summer' usually conjured up. In Josh's opinion it was perfect. Especially for the topic he and Sam had gotten themselves on. As they walked along the rocky shore towards the tide pools, Josh found solace in the peace that Sam always seemed to emanate.

He turned blue eyes on her, thinking on her words with care. It wasn't like Sam to be so vulnerable, but it meant more than he'd admit that she felt comfortable enough to confide in him. There was a time when they spoke this easily often, but that felt so long ago now. "I get it. Sometimes, I feel like this world isn't even real. Like... I'm out of place in it no matter where I am." Only then was he struck with familiar lyrics and decided to give in, hoping to see her smile. When he spoke, though, his voice was even, not giving away the melody at all, just to see if she'd notice. "But I hope you, I'd stop the world and melt with you."

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misc prompts for your feels

“ unique just means alone. ” “ i’m not afraid to die, just wish i could live a little first. ” “ i know i’m a monster, but you look at me like i’m a man. ” “ there’s nothing i wouldn’t do to keep you safe. ” “ we all have sins to pay penance for. ” “ don’t look at me like i’m a hero. you’ll only disappoint yourself. ” “ sometimes when you look at me it’s like…it’s like you’re staring straight past my flesh and into my soul. ” “ you make me want to live. ” “ i know i don’t deserve forgiveness, but i like the idea that some people think i might. ” “ i trust you with my life. ” “ you’re more like family to me than my own blood. ” “ i’ve never had any sort of family before. ” “ your life is far more precious than mine. ” “ i don’t care what happens to me. as long as you’re safe. ” “ i need you to live…cause if you’re gone then, i don’t know what the point of it all is anymore. ” “ i know i’m not the person you want, but i’m here. ” “ i love you, and i know you may never feel the same. but i’m okay with that. ” “ i couldn’t say no to you even if i wanted to. ” “ you’re worth more than this. ” “ why do you walk around as if you’re somehow less valuable than the rest of the world? ” “ please, let me help you. ” “ just let me do this for you. ” “ you do have something to live for. you have me. ” “ you’ll always have me. ” “ i see you. i know you feel so invisible all the time, but you’re not. not to me. ” “ it’s okay to be angry, you’re allowed to be upset about what happened to you. ” “ don’t you realize you deserve more than this? ” “ you’re not a machine or— or some thing. you’re a person, and i’m sorry anyone ever made you feel otherwise. ” “ please, just hold on a little longer. i can’t lose you too. ” “ this scar..what happened? ” “ if you won’t do it for yourself, then do it for me. ” “ you’re bleeding— how long have you been hiding this?! ” “ sometimes i realize one day i could die, i could just disappear and the world would be none the wiser. there’d be no one to miss me and that terrifies me more than death itself. ”  “ i’m not sure i know who i’m supposed to be anymore. ” “ my mind is so loud and i’m afraid it’ll never be quiet again. ” “ when i’m in a crowd i just want to melt away and yet, when i’m alone it’s somehow worse. ” “ loneliness is a poison and i’ve been drinking it for so long, i don’t there there’s an anecdote to save my soul. ” “ i don’t care if the world knows my name, i just want you to remember me. ” “ you deserve more than i could ever give you. ” “ i love you. i know that’s not enough, but i do. ” “ you’re safe with me, you always will be. ” “ you make me feel safe. like i’m allowed to be anything i want. ” “ i’d do anything to be the person you love again. ” “ i’ve got you, you’re safe. ” “ just rest, i’m here. ” “ you can stay with me tonight. ”

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JOSH Most likely to: “Work in the film industry.”

Where do you see yourself in 10 years? “Having a good time.”

Favourite Quote? “It takes no imagination to live within your means.” Francis Ford Coppola

More Class Photos and Quotes (All images and text from Until Dawn press edition)

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bang bang mess

(aka can we get more bloody and bruised josh content,,,)

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.·:*¨ ✘★✘ ¨*:·.  The overly innocent way that Mike answered his question about the dog brought an amused look to Josh's face. "Right..." he replied as though playing along. Then the other man came out with the truth, but it still didn't explain why he was walking so casually with a wolf on a leash. So much had changed and Josh missed a lot of it. In Blackwood, he'd been sedated once he was found in the cave and didn't wake up until he was secure in the familiar room at Ocean View Psychiatric Hospital. For three long months he'd been cut off from everyone as the doctors did their best to glue the pieces of his mind back together. It was the longest stay he'd ever endured there. Though he was out, there was still a long way to go for him that involved doctor check-ins multiple times a week.

Not wanting to think about it, he focused on the present. They came up to a coffee shop and Josh stepped ahead to open the door with an exaggerated flourish. "After you, cochise!" He waited patiently while Mike tied off Wolfie to a table outside, then followed his friend into the little shop. He enjoyed that they were seemingly falling back into an old rhythm of easy friendship. Even so, the air between them felt thick and tense with unsaid things. Josh wondered if Mike could ever forgive him. He wondered if he was even worth forgiveness.

"Wolfie, huh? Clever name," he teased sarcastically. "That is definitely a story I wanna hear."

ㅤMike had never known about Josh's little revelation back during that pool party, much to everyone's benefit because he really hadn't needed the ego boost of two Washingtons crushing after him in the wake of that, though they were all pretty certain that Hannah's interest had started before that. Back then, he was still kind of flattered about it, even if he hadn't been interested in dating his friends, but a lot had changed over the years. Even if he had known, he'd have assumed that Josh would have changed his mind pretty drastically about that, just like basically everything else. If he somehow still hadn't, the scars and mutilated hand would probably do the rest.

ㅤHe wasn't honestly expecting Josh to take him up on the offer of coffee, so the way that he perked up a little, surprised and pleased, was absolutely genuine and so was the way his smile spread. "Really? Alright, this way," he offered, gesturing in the right direction and glad to have Josh go right along with him, almost like it was natural. Like it used to be, just a little.

ㅤWolfie kept shooting the guy looks and Mike was certain they had a smelling session ahead of them, but it could wait until they had their coffee and could sit down outside somewhere. With that in mind, it was funny timing that Josh asked about the giant wolf, and there was that kneejerk concern that Josh was seriously asking for just a split second because Mike had seen the state he was in on that mountain, but the concern passed just as immediately as it hit him and he gave the most innocent look (and tone of voice) he could possibly fake in its place. "Wolf? What wolf? Ooooh, you mean Wolfie. That's just his name, dude, he's an Alaskan Shepherd. Totally different."

ㅤThat was a lie, but it was one that had come with papers and the support of a very tired agent who'd wanted a bunch of kids out of Canada as soon as he could get them cleared from the hospital, and Mike wasn't going to be the one to ruin it. He could only imagine how many questions Josh had, and he was unfortunate enough to be among the few people who could have the truth. "That's what we have on paper, anyway. Kinda gotta keep it that way so nobody freaks out, you know?"

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You guys think they ever kissed or something?

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Reblog if Jesus hot sauce Christmas cake

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.·:*¨ ✘★✘ ¨*:·.  If someone were to tell Josh that he'd be feeling this sheepish and awkward and guilt stricken in front of Mike, he never would have believed it. Truthfully, there was hardly anyone that could ever make Josh feel sheepish. He owned his weirdness like it was a security blanket and never felt embarrassed for anything. Of course, there was that one summer years back when Mike had been over to go swimming with Beth, Hannah, and Sam. It was the first time Josh had seen him shirtless and the first time he thought to himself, "Shit, do I like boys, too?". Such juvenile issues paled in comparison to the cracks that lay between the two men now.

It wasn't until he heard the other say that he was glad to see him. It could have been a comment that was a throwaway, meant to ease the tension, but Josh clung to it as though it were a life preserver in a sea of loneliness. He hadn't seen any of his friends since that night and missed them so much that he ached at times. "Well if it's your treat..." he replied with a small smile that held just a little of the old Joshua sparkle.

Falling in step with Mike, he walked along with him and glanced to the large animal that also moved with them. "Just to be clear... you can see the giant wolf, too, right?" Of course Mike could see him. Josh knew that he wasn't experiencing any more hallucinations, but self-deprecating humor was his favorite coping mechanism. Plus, he really wanted to know why the other was walking around with a wolf on a leash.

ㅤThe instant he’d said it, surprised enough that he hadn’t even really figured out how he felt about seeing Josh let alone schooling his face into something that wouldn’t spook the guy, he knew he probably should have taken a minute first. It was complicated, and Josh’s own reaction stressed that. They both paused and Mike watched Josh’s gaze drop to his mutilated hand, still bandaged despite most of the rest of his injuries healing up into scars or just memories of the worst night of his life, and they locked eyes when he jerked his attention back up for that unsteady, shockingly restrained answer. He’d never known Josh to be so quiet, so possibly awkward, because even when the guy was being a total nerd, he owned it like there was something wrong with anyone who thought it was a bad thing. This was something Mike wasn’t familiar with.

ㅤJosh had every right to it, of course – they all did. The survivors of that night on the mountain were all irrevocably changed, and while Mike’s change was very visible in his hand, his new scars and the giant dog (that was his story and he was sticking to it) at his side, it’d be a mistake to judge only on the superficial. Mike himself had made that mistake, judging just on what seemed obvious on the surface, and he’d judged Josh more harshly than the guy deserved. Make no mistake, Josh deserved some serious judgment for the bullshit he pulled, but Mike recognized that it wasn’t really his place to do most of it.

ㅤThe middle of the sidewalk also wasn’t the place to do it, the two of them staring at each other for seconds that felt much longer and Wolfie’s ears perked and alert to this new presence. Mike blinked again at the lackluster response from Josh, trying to stamp down the fears that maybe Josh hated him, blamed him, didn't want to deal with any of them ever again based on that response, and managed a smile to cut through the awkwardness a little. Maybe, hopefully. "Listen, sorry, I can let you go if you want, it's good to see you. I'm grabbing coffee if you want some, though? My treat?"

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➠@actiongrrl asked: ❛  why would i lie to you?  ❜

.·:*¨ ✘★✘ ¨*:·.  "Why would you tell me the truth?!" the counter argument was sharp with a desperation in wide blue eyes. "Ugh!" Josh yelled as he grabbed his head, shaking it as though trying to dispel an unseen pain. He was losing it. Again. He tried desperately to cling to sanity, but every time he got a firm grasp, it turned to water in his hands. "Everyone died. Everyone died and I killed them!" He'd seen it happen, didn't he? The monster ripped apart his friends before turning on to him. A monster that he knew couldn't exist because monsters weren't real. Which led Josh to only one possible conclusion: the nightmares he'd been seeing were a delusion to hide the fact that he'd taken his joke too far...

What his weak mind wasn't able to process at the moment, however, was that no one had died. They'd lived.

But monsters are very, very real.

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➠ @jesvshotsaucechristmascake asked: ❝ i never thought i’d see you again. ❞

.·:*¨ ✘★✘ ¨*:·.   It wasn't like Josh to ever keep his mouth closed, but for once in his life, he was gravely silent. Large blue eyes stared at Mike as he tried to process how that statement was supposed to make him feel. Was his friend relieved and happy? Or was this a reunion Mike wished he'd never have to endure? It had been a month since the horrific night at his family's estate. After he was found by rescue searchers, just about to do the unthinkable in order to survive, he was mercifully taken out of those caves. Because of the state of his mind, Josh was then put in a facility where he was cared for and rehabilitated.

Back on his meds and less fragile than before, Josh was released into the world again. La Jolla wasn't a huge town by any means, but he still hadn't expected to run into any of this old friends so quickly. The sidewalk they were on suddenly felt entirely too small, as if the shops around them were pressing in to create a claustrophobic effect.

Unable to stop himself, his gaze went to Mike's left hand, seeing the permanent proof of the brutality they had faced. Instantly they snapped back to the other's face. Realizing he'd been silent too long that it was probably beginning to be creepy, he forced himself to nod. "Y-yeah," he replied, feeling entirely stupid with the one word, but still not knowing how Mike was going to react.

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.·:*¨ ✘★✘ ¨*:·.  It wasn't easy for Josh to talk about what happened at the Washington estate. So much had changed since then. He was back on his meds and had gone through a facility to help put his mind back together. Even now, though, he felt like he was holding everything together by a thin thread that threatened to snap at any moment. "Was it really wasted? I mean look, you got your old Josh back," he said with an attempt at a little levity.

OPEN STARTER ! 

❝                    We’re always talking AROUND it, and now, I mean, we’ve wasted everything!❞ At the last word, Ashley’s voice CRACKED. Her tone was both DESPERATE and DEFEATED, as shoulders crumbled in one fluid motion. Perhaps now wasn’t the best TIME for such a topic to be discussed, but better now than NEVER right?