( becky rosen open post )

[samlicker81]

BECKY ROSEN
CARVER EDLUND'S #1 FAN

① leave a prompt, lyric, quote, picture, video, kink, etc. ② feel free to request aus, canons, game!verses, etc. ③ can be gen or smut i'm cool with just about everything (but please specify if smut) ④ no literally anything goes ⑤ LET'S DO THIS

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you don't know me. but hi.

[mulletrock]

If I die and go to hell real soon,
it will appear to me as this room.
And for eternity I'd lay in bed
in my boxers, half stoned,
with the pillow under my head.

I'd be chatting on the interweb;
maggots pray upon the living dead.
I had no interest in the things she said.
On the phone every day,
I'll permanently hit the hay hay.

I called her on the phone and she touched herself.
She touched herself. She touched herself.
I called her on the phone and she touched herself.
I laughed myself to sleep.

A THOUSAND YEARS LATER omg i'm so sorry i hope this is okay??? ;;

[samlicker81]

[ It's been a couple of years since the incident with the love potion, and Becky decided to take Sam's words to heart. He told her to follow her passion — not in so many words, but close enough. It took ganking her first demon to realize her passion wasn't really Sam, but hunting. And maybe she'd convinced Garth to help her out, even though Dean had pretty clearly expressed not to get anywhere near her. But the thing with Dean is he isn't nearly as intimidating when he's thousand miles away, so Garth taught Becky how to shoot a rifle and a shotgun and a pistol, how to properly draw devil's traps and the like — her very own crash course in hunting. She might've even kissed him once or twice in gratitude — maybe even a little more on nights when the adrenaline from a hunt got her heart throbbing more than just in her chest.

They were partners for a while, before Becky wanted to pursue a life of hunting on her own. Though, to be honest, she just wanted to stalk Sam and Dean without Garth picking up on it. She didn't want to creep him out with her stalker fangirl motives... And she didn't want to keep having to hide her fanfiction all the time. All legitimate reasons in her book.

It only takes about three months of following their usual pattern of motels and fake names and keeping a close eye on local newspapers — nothing as obvious as Vegas Night, no, that got her in trouble last time — and she thinks she's close to finally crossing paths with them again. She's excited to show off her new skills, hoping maybe she'll be able to impress Sam enough that those deep, deep hidden feelings for her will come out. Even after everything, she can still hope, right?

She hadn't actually attempted much hunting on her own, only a few beginner's cases of ghost hunting, nothing too big, but it's this case, the one she knows will attract the Winchesters' attention, this is the one she gets in too deep. This is the one she can't handle, and someone dies because of her amateurism. It's not the same as someone dying before you even get there — it's worse because she'd actually talked to the victim. She asked her questions, got to know her, even just a little. And now she thinks she knows what it really feels like to be a hunter. A real hunter. And maybe she doesn't like it as much as she thought. That thing is still out there and she couldn't stop it and someone is dead and it's not like reading a book, this is real life and Sam and Dean and Garth aren't here this time.

She dials Dean's number with shaky hands, tears still running down her face, over the dried ones from a few minutes ago while she tried to calm down and work up the courage to call one of the brothers. Garth had only given her their numbers for emergencies, and she's stayed true to her word. She never could go through with Sam's, still too guilty about what happened between them to ask him for help. She's not sure why it's easier to call Dean, the overprotective older brother who probably hates her guts — or at least resents her guts — but if she knows anything about the Winchesters (and she likes to think she does), she knows Dean won't just ignore her message, no matter how much he dislikes her. ]

Dean...? It's Becky. I — Garth gave me your number and I — I didn't know who else to call... But you're, like, the best there is when it comes to this stuff and — well, I know we didn't part on the best of terms, but... I just... I need your help. If it's not coming for me, it's coming for someone else, and I... I couldn't save her. I don't even know if I can save myself.