independent jessica lee moore from supernatural looking for interactions. mun & muse are 18+. several verses available (including a hell-verse, stanford verse and resurrection verse). hit me up if youâd like to do something!

Kiana Khansmith
Sweet Seals For You, Always

Discoholic đȘ©
trying on a metaphor
Keni

Love Begins
DEAR READER
todays bird
YOU ARE THE REASON
Stranger Things

PR's Tumblrdome
Misplaced Lens Cap
Three Goblin Art
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

@theartofmadeline

ç„æ„ / Permanent Vacation

â
Monterey Bay Aquarium

JVL

oozey mess

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@amarexperditum
independent jessica lee moore from supernatural looking for interactions. mun & muse are 18+. several verses available (including a hell-verse, stanford verse and resurrection verse). hit me up if youâd like to do something!
{ooc; i'm considering changing my url back to youdcrashandburn. which oneâs better, the one i have now or that one? also, does anyone want to interact with jess? iâm going to bed now but iâll be popping in here to see if people want interactions tomorrow. come plot with me if you want~}
Turn Over a New Leaf
purificatio:
âDonât worry about it, though, you have a nice voice and I like listening.â Â I like listening? Â Sam played that line back in his mind as he matched her pace â well, matched it to the best of his ability, and realised how strangely forward and weird it must have come across to her, small talk and general talk with females wasnât his forte.
Thankfully the cool September air was refreshing, even if his heart was beating a little fasterâsomewhat flusteredâby the back of her hand brushing against his as they walked together.  He shouldnât like it, for her sake he shouldnât, but he did.  She was different.  So different.  Beautifully so.  âŠNo one had ruined her life. Not until Sam anyway. His stomach muscles twisted at the thought as his gaze, too, swept briefly over the thickening crowd before his eyes came back to Jessica.   âSorry, for uh⊠Dampening your afternoon, Iâm sure you wanted to be having fun,â he said with an apologetic smile, dimples accompanying the way he lowered his gaze almost shyly.  âI wonât hold it against you if you wanna bail after showing me the dorms or something, I can figure my way around if youâd rather be somewhere else.  Youâre new too, after all.â
He didnât want her to feel obligated. Â She wasnât the schoolâs designated tour guide, and she undoubtedly wanted to be having fun if it was her first day.
Sam wasnât a very fun person.Â
If it had come from the lips of any other boy on campus, you have a nice voice and I like listening would probably have sounded incredibly creepy. With Samâs bashfulness and his dimples still very much visible, it was cute. Endearing, even. Jess wasnât really the type for a pity-date or for picking up the bashful types, something about this boy drew her in, simple as that. She wasnât about to make the situation any more complicated by overthinking that; in stead, she let the desire to stick around and get to know him a little better take over her, casual as anything.Â
âOh, well, thatâs--good?â She finished the sentence with a chuckle, with no intention of laughing at him, but in hopes of clearing away a bit of the tension between the two of them. They were two grown-ups, or at least two people about to plunge themselves into the grown-up life (in terms of responsibilities and independence, anyway), and there was no need for them to be preschool levels of shy at each other. Good thing she was excellent at taking initiative.Â
Even with all the enthusiasm sheâd carried with her, her smile faded and made way for a frown when he spoke so lowly of himself. He didnât say it, so much, but the intonation of his sentences, what he was implying---it wasnât very cheerful. She paused in her tracks, and in a bold move, grabbed him by the hand so he would come to a halt as well, and covered it with her free hand.Â
âListen. If I thought youâd be dampening my afternoon, I wouldnât have offered to show you around in the first place. Besides, you looked like you could use some fun, too, and I like to share.âÂ
The smile slipped back onto her features very slowly, less bright than before, but a little more genuine now, as though she attempted to reassure him with it.Â
âNow, turn that frown upside-down and Iâll give you the deluxe tour.âÂ
A short burst of laughter followed her remark---and then she realized it may have come off as slightly promiscuous.Â
âAh! I mean, the one where I show you around, we stick around to talk a bit afterwards and chances are Iâll give you my phone number at the end.â
Turn Over a New Leaf
purificatio
Sam hadnât realised she was speaking to him at first, too busy being lost but then she was coming up next to him and he glanced over to see her looking at him expectantly.  He forgot how to breathe, silenced by her beauty.  All gorgeous long legs, soft curves, delicate, light coloured skin.  Were those freckles?  And her green eyes⊠She was the kind of girl who talked to his big brother, NOT the kind of girl who talked to the likes of Sam Winchester. The kid flushed sheepishly and grinned at the human version of Aphrodite, embarrassed dimples on his face.
He shook the offered hand as he stopped walking, and just⊠wow. Her hand was so soft, small even though she had to be one of the only girls who could stand eye level with him in heels.  In his experience tall, beautiful girls ended up being only interested in Dean and really full of themselves, model types who knew they looked good and treated Sam like an accessory if they ever did give him the time of day.  He âmatchedâ no different than their shoes matched their purses.  He had expected Stanford to be no different⊠the school for the rich, and here was Sammy Winchester, who would have to work for every dime to his name. But this girl?  She didnât have that full of herself air around her.  Confident, god yes, but not entitledly so.  And her smile, wow, his stomach was doing flip flops. It was no question why she knew he was lost, though.  He was so out of his element here, he didnât even know where to put his jittery hands after heâd shaken hers, ultimately stuffing them uneasily in the pockets of his hoodie.
âHey, uh, yeah kinda. âŠIâve never been here before, didnât get to come to the Open House event a few weeks back.â  There was no way he wouldâve ever convinced his family to drive him through Palo Alto and gotten away with it, his fears over their negative reaction had been proven true last nightâŠ
âOh, um, yeah?  I meanâ Yeah, thatâd be great, Jess,â he chuckled breathlessly, her name beautiful to him, motioning for her to lead the way, happy both for the company and for the offer.  âŠSurprised, even, most of all.  He wasnât the guy girls often chose to hang around.  He was too freakishly tall, too much of a dork. âSorry, I havenât even, umââ  Introduced himself.  It was like a breath of fresh air not having to remember some kind of alias.  To just be himself⊠finally.  Whoever that was.  If he even knew.  Part of why he had wanted to get away in the first place, to discover himself and who he was outside of hunting.  ââŠIâm Sam.  Well, Samuel Winchester, but I prefer Sam.  âŠYou been going here for a while?âÂ
Oh, wow. Jessicaâs heart decided to have a little dance-off in her chest when a bashful smile slid across the boyâs features. From the moment sheâd laid eyes upon him when heâd walked past the threshold of Stanford Universityâs entrance hall just then, she could instantly tell he was different than most of the other boys she would potentially be sharing classrooms with. Some were handsome, but obnoxious, others shy and barely social, and a fair few never even stood out to her, as they had been too busy to pay her any form of attention, not even a greeting in passing. But this boy---there was something about him that drew her in from the get-go; she could feel herself spiraling towards him in some form of magnetic attraction, and she didnât even care to resist.Â
As if the smile wasnât enough to prod at the butterfly nest that had erupted from the pit of her stomach, the dimples in his cheeks, the lines around his eyes and the sparkling reflections of light in them, all served to intensify every emotion she was experiencing that pertained to this newcomer. And to think---he hadnât even spoken to her yet.Â
Upon his acceptance of her handshake, she paid keen attention as to be able to catch his name, but in a slightly awkward turn of events, he simply shook her hand in silence. In any other case, perhaps she would have been slightly put-off or offended by the gesture, but in this case...it was endearing. He was clearly nervous, and she regained confidence through his actions. After all, they couldnât both be standing there, motionless and soundless like awkward teenagers, too afraid to initiate any form of conversation. She took the opportunity in that long moment of awkward silence to size him up a little further; he was taller than her by quite a bit, which she thought was a nice accomplishment. Sheâd been tallest in her class -even though she really wasnât freakishly tall for a girl- for a while, and sheâd jokingly made a pact with her best friend to never date a man who wasnât at least two inches taller than she was. This handsome stranger beat that by a fair amount.
When finally, he spoke up to answer her question, the smile that had lingered on her lips grew even fonder. His voice matched the picture perfectly, the right amount of warmth and kindness she had imagined from him before heâd even made a sound. She even so much as held her breath for a fraction of a second as he bent his around her name. Nobody had pronounced her name with quite as much distinction before. She had no clue why she was singling out all these detailed aspects of a boy she hadnât even been properly introduced to, but one thing she was very certain of...he had already charmed his way into her memory, and the first impression was very good.Â
âCâmon, then.âÂ
She assumed the name dropping would happen later, and was halfway on her way outside, two confident strides ahead of him, but waiting for him to catch up with her, when he finally mentioned his name. Sam. The pleasure lines around her eyes multiplied as her eyes narrowed and her smile widened. Oh, if they were to become friends in the nearby future, she would definitely use the name Samuel in a playfully teasing way, from time to time. It was a habit she had with friends, just as they would often call her Jessica Lee in a sing-song voice. But for now, Sam would do just fine.Â
âWell, itâs nice to meet you, Sam.âÂ
She pronounced his name as carefully as he had hers, stretching the S the subtlest bit in a hint of a tease, as heâd taken so long to give her his name. When he asked her if sheâd been going to Stanford for a while, her face flushed, making her involuntarily look bashful for the moment.Â
âOh uh, no. It does look that way, huh? My parents dropped me off here way too early today. Always want to be on time and follow me every step of the way, itâs kind of embarrassing---âÂ
Cutting herself off as soon as she realized that she shouldnât be complaining to the boy who had come here all by himself, with no parents and just a duffelbag, she averted her eyes for a moment, pressing her lips together in an apologetic expression before continuing in a much softer tone of voice.Â
âIâm sorry, I---look at me, rambling about my parents. You came here all by yourself. But um, yeah...I ran into Brady here---âÂ
Assuming the older student who had given her a tour and encouraged her to do the same for Sam was still waiting for their introductions to be through with, Jessica turned around...only to find that Brady had slipped away quietly.Â
âOh. Well, Bradyâs an older student who showed me around a bit. So now I get to do the same for you.âÂ
Sucking a small part of her bottom lip into her mouth, Jess ghosted her teeth over it before applying pressure in a lip-bite as she weighed her options of what she would say or do next. She was curious by nature, and wanted to ask Sam why he hadnât brought any friends or family to help him out, seeing as how today was kind of a big deal. But in stead, she remained silent, reached out a hand for him to follow her, and offered him a sympathetic smile. Whatever the reason, he didnât look happy about it, but she would make it her task to keep that cute, dimpled smile on his handsome face.
Turn Over a New Leaf
CLOSED STARTER Ⳡfor amarexperditum
Sam was laughing with a few of the other guys on the Greyhound Bus he was getting off of, the warm sound carrying because that was just Sam Winchester for you. Â Those dimpled smiles were infectious, and it just drew people in, even if he had never thought of himself as something worth being drawn to. Â He hitched his duffle bag a little higher where it was slung over his shoulder. Â It was a crisp late afternoon, breeze ruffling hair, the rays of the sun casting little shadows over young, kind-hearted facial features, giving them a stronger, sharper edge. Â A momentary glimpse of the man heâd one day be. Â He absently scrubbed a hand through his messy flop of hair in aâfailedâattempt to tame it, pausing only when he caught sight of the main grounds and lush green grass around building that were erected so long ago.
He was really here.
He had really made it, with the very last dollar to his name, he made it.
âŠAnd lost everything in the process.  His dad.  Dean.  Their life.  He had a bruise on his cheek from âgoodbyeâ he had been given for saying he was leaving, his eyes though young and full of life and friendliness at eighteen, carried a hint of red around the rim indicative of the tears he mightâve shed at some point while riding the bus all alone.  He had never been alone before, had never been away from his family before, and he was mourning.  He was in pain.  Heartache, but only someone who really knew how to look would ever see it.  Because Sam was good at hiding behind dimples and warmth, even as shy as he could be at times, he hid his pain well.
Heâd start a new life here.  He had to, couldnât let his full ride scholarship go to waste, and considering he had no money, no job, and nothing to his name but the few things in his duffle bag⊠He couldnât waste time thinking about how much it hurt him that his family didnât support his dreams.  He had to dive into his studies and trying to get a work-study job for cash, if he hoped to be able to eatâŠ
Keep your head in the game, Winchester, the converse clad, jean wearing, hoodie wearing dork of a too-tall college freshman thought to himself on move-in day, trying not to feel so completely out of place in a sea of people with boxes and uhaul trucks and the like, and pushed himself forward onto campus.
Stanford University in Palo Alto California. Â This was chapter one of his new life.
Jessica loved her parents, she really did. But between packing her sandwiches with the crust cut off -which she hadnât had the habit of eating for years now- and bringing an entire squad to make the âtransitionâ from being their little girl to what they referred to as âthe grown-up lifeâ easier, was a little too much of a good thing. Sheâd been independent for years, quite savvy in ways of running a household when her parents were too busy with work and cooking for the family when she was required to do so. The only thing she had no experience with was to be let out from underneath her parentsâ wings and to explore the world all by herself. No more âcall me when you get thereâ, curfews or having to report every single minute of her agenda. Her life would be her own now, and she was planning to start living it as soon as her parents had left campus.Â
They had arrived embarrassingly early, and her mother had offered for them to go out for dinner, or to  âat least let me cook for youâ at least five times over the course of the day, so suffice to say, by the time they had moved all her stuff into the room she would be occupying over the course of her studies, she was quite discontented with her motherâs behavior. So much so that she eventually managed to convince the woman that it would be much better if she treated it like a band-aid to be ripped off. Fast, clean goodbye and she would stay in touch. Her father, the more reasonable of the two, confirmed this in the most matter-of-fact tone of voice he could possibly muster, and eventually, Mrs. Moore succumbed, hugged her daughter goodbye and left her to enjoy her new-found freedom.Â
Being fairly social, it didnât take her very long to find someone to hang out with while she explored the premises; finding her wandering about a bit with nothing but a small bag to accompany her, the young man whoâd introduced himself as Brady, and who seemed to already know his way around campus, had offered to show her around. He was charming, and very friendly, but frankly not her type. Then again, he didnât seem interested in anything beyond friendship or just doing her a kindness at this point either, which was refreshing; sheâd gotten a fair few wolf whistles out of a group of boys sheâd passed on her way out of the dorms, and even with her spunk, it was rather intimidating.Â
When Brady concluded their little tour just beyond the main entrance and they stopped to talk a little more, Jessica took a moment to lean most of her weight against the nearest wall, combing her fingers through thick, messy blonde locks to brush them out of her face. In all honesty, she was about to thank Brady for showing her around and retreat to her room; she had made the mistake of wearing new shoes, and her toes were throbbing as thought they had been beaten to a bruised mess. Not that she had let any of that show through; her face was still largely covered in a pleasant smile, and even her eyes smiled along. It was genuine, because even the pain in her feet couldnât ruin the excitement of this day for her. Still, she was half of a mind to brush off the more experienced student, when he glanced over his shoulder, as though he was expecting someone any moment. And sure enough, moments later, a particularly charming, dark-haired giant came trudging into the hallway, dragging his feet a little as though he was hesitant to enter the building, though his demeanor showed no sign of that.Â
He carried nothing but a duffel, and Jessica waited a few moments, half expecting for his family to follow, but no one entered after him. Brady nudged her and mouthed âgo help the poor boyâ, and she flashed him an apologetic smile before stepping into the strangerâs line of sight, offering him a genuine and sympathetic smile. Gosh, he was kind of cute, and he looked so incredibly lost, almost resembling a puppy searching for its owner. It was endearing in the best of ways, and irresistible to Jess.Â
Habitually secure in her ways, once sheâd interrupted the young manâs path of walking, she wasnât quite sure what to say to not come across as a complete fool. Digging one hand into the back pocket of her white-washed jeans, she held out the other one for him to shake.Â
âHey, um---Iâm Jessica. Call me Jess. You looked lost, and I thought---âÂ
Interrupting herself, she winced inwardly at the uncharacteristic awkwardness she was displaying. Câmon, Jess, get a grip.Â
âI figured you could use a tour guide. You all by yourself?â
~
The Thin Line Between Heaven and Hell
âș As requested by starryhunter [cont. from this]
Itâs strange, how love can light the way for you, bring clarity in times of darkness, and then suddenly turn around to bite you in the ass when youâre not watching. Love is taking a leap of faith to surrender yourself completely to your significant other, and in that, it can be blinding. I took your hand, you promised to take me home. I followed you blindly into Hell.
For a while, it was paradise. I forgot about the feeling of flames licking my skin, forgot about the scent of my own flesh burning that my mind had registered right before everything went black. I even so much as forgot Iâd died, in the first place. I was with Sam, and I was oblivious to anything else but our life together, then. Of course it was strange for me to be isolated from our college friends, but I didnât question it. I stayed at home to make do with what we had, and it felt like my own little corner of Paradise for a good while. Nightmares of fire and scorching heat faded away, and I started feeling at home again. And thatâs when things changed.
âAnd it is written, that those unjustly scorned, shall be raised in retribution.â
-Winchester Gospels 5:09
Keep reading
Even when you love each other so completely you would share your very being with the person youâre with, there are always places the light of your relationship doesnât touch. Dark places, things left unspoken between the two of you, not because you want to keep secrets, but because perhaps, not mentioning them is the better option. For the sake of not upsetting the other. My secrets arenât very big. Just little details missing. Like how I remember the flames licking at my skin. How my last thoughts were with Sam. What happened during the time I spent in HellâŠand how I got there.
It was a gloomy day, that day. The sky was covered in thick clouds of grey, raindrops pouring down onto your face, but you didnât seem to even take note of the fact that your face was steadily getting wetter, your already dark suit getting darker with every drop that touched it. Your destination was clear, your eyes set on the headstone that marked the fresh patch of dirt where just days ago, youâd buried me. Little did you know that I lingered for a while, lost, trying to find you. Your tears mixed in with the rain, and for a fleeting moment, I wished I was corporeal, not for my own gain, but so I could kiss those beads that trailed down your cheek away before they hit the ground. I wished I could embrace you, tell you I was right there. In stead, I stood by and listened as you spoke to me. Every word, every hitch of breath and every crack in your voice. Iâve memorized it all, replayed it a hundred, perhaps a thousand times over in years to come.  Iâd seen you sad. In our time together, Iâd seen you less than happy, sometimes even fragile, but it hurt me to see how broken you were. That defeated look in your eyesâŠI canât shake the memory of it. You didnât quite know what to say, mumbled something about flowers. I would have appreciated the visit even if youâd brought me roses, Sam.
Your gaze was fixed on the headstone, so I sat down there for a while, listening to the sound of your voice attempting to form words that eventually trailed off mid-sentence. My instincts told me to embrace you, to caress your cheek and attempt to comfort you, and I gave in to them. I bet it felt as though the wind was simply blowing past your face at that point, but at least if I was thin air to you, I was thin air trying to comfort you. If I could have responded to your words right there and then, I would have.
I overheard your apologies, Sam, but Iâve never blamed you. I trusted you even after I died, I never blamed the events of my death on you. Not even the fact that I ended up in Hell was in any way or form to blame on you. It was all my own naivety.
You left after about fifteen minutes, including five minutes of complete silence, in which I saw your lips repeatedly form a silent âIâm sorry, Jess. Iâm so sorryâ. I sat there on the gravestone, mulling over things. You had apologized for not telling me the truth. Up to today, I still have no idea what truth you were hiding from me. But whatever truth it was, Iâm still fully convinced you withholding it from me did not lead to my death.
I was consumed with thoughts for the longest time, until I heard the same, heavy footsteps that had drawn me to my grave before. Your footsteps have a very distinct sound to them, you know. Large, yet nimble feet. Still, they leave a dull thud that I would recognize out of a thousand.
I perked up from the stone, and you met my eyes. Directly. Your hand reached out for me, and I didnât hesitate to take it.
âItâs time to go home, Jess.â You lulled into my ear the moment I leaned into your embrace.
You offered me shelter. You offered me guidance where I was lost. And I followed you straight into Hell.
A Soldier's Coming Home
âșÂ AU Sam x Jess: Travelinâ Soldier [x], as requested by dontwastexyourheart.
He was a random, traveling stranger. A random passer-by who just so happened to be on his way through Michigan. And he wouldnât have made any impact on her life if she hadnât traded tables with Elsie that day. Perhaps it was fate, perhaps their paths had been set to intertwine at that particular point in time. All they both knew was this meeting, no matter how brief, would make a lasting impression for the both of them.
âJess, that old man in the corner gives me the creeps. He keeps staring at me.â
Jessica leaned a little to the side to be able to see the man her red-headed co-worker was talking about, and she couldnât help but chuckle. He seemed like a really nice old man, a regular customer, even, but Elsie was new to the job, so she didnât question her reasons.
âAlright, weâll switch tables. You take mine, Iâll go help him.â
The blonde straightened her shirt and scooped the small notepad she used to take orders with off the counter before heading in the direction of the man theyâd discussed. In hindsight, he really was a nice man, just a little gruff on the outside. As soon as she came to take his order, his wrinkled face tugged into a heartfelt smile, and she flashed him one in return. He was polite as anything, and she gave him the very same in return; sheâd been working at the roadside diner for a while now, and there was nothing she loved better than the interaction with all the people she crossed paths with. Some of them came there for a quick bite, others just didnât want to be alone, and sought out the comfort of the diner over the local bar. Sheâd gladly accommodate them in whatever they sought, as long as they were nice to her in return.
That day had actually been fairly good, both the customers as well as the tips sheâd gotten, even though it had been a quiet evening and they were closing up in an hour. She honestly hadnât expected anyone to walk through the door in the next half hour, but with the irregular hours the dinerâs regulars kept, they could never be sure. She greeted the young man, who appeared to be about the same age as she was, with a regular smile. A genuine smile, because nothing about her chipper nature was acted; she actually loved her job and was very passionate about it. It helped her pay for college, she was saving up to go to law school after a year of travel. She loved to travel, go to places sheâd never been to before, meet new people. But first, work. And sheâd be damned if she didnât enjoy that, too.
There was something about the newcomer that perked Jessicaâs interest. It wasnât the way he dressed, or the way his head almost reached the ceiling when heâd first walked into the diner. It was his entire demeanor. He seemedâŠsad, yet determined. A man with a mission, and a grim one, at that. Sheâd seen the look in his eyes before, on other fleeting customers. People who were on the road and lonely, in desperate need of some company. Sheâd never seen it as strong with anyone as she did with him, though. Since he was far from unattractive, Elsie briefly bickered with Jess over who got to help him, but since Jess cleverly pointed out theyâd switched table rounds, Elsie drew the shortest straw.
The moment Jessica approached and the tall young man at the table near the window in the far corner looked up at her, something clicked. It was as though pieces of a puzzle clicked into each other, and they kept their eyes on each other for as long as it took her to walk from the counter to his table, both of them smiling, though his smile was mostly exhausted, as opposed to her vivacious one.
âCan I help you?â
From any other waitress, it probably would have sounded like a mere courtesy, but there was something deeper to Jessicaâs question, something more heartfelt. The man hesitated for the longest moment, his gaze distant, then he turned his focus back on her, a bit of an awkward half-smile tugging at his lips.
âYou knowâŠitâs probably way out of line, but do you think you could spare some time to talk to me? Iâmâfeeling kinda low, and I could really use someone to talk to.â
Sheâd seen it in his eyes, but even so, it surprised her. It didnât startle her, however, it simply threw her off for a moment. Not long after, though, she checked her watch; half an hour to go, thatâd be doable. She could feel Elsieâs eyes burning into her back, so sitting down with the guy probably wasnât the best idea right now.
âYou know what? I totally can. Iâm off in half an hour, think you can wait that long?â
He agreed, ordered a salad shaker and a diet coke, and she gave him a once-over, the corners of her lips traveling up until they formed a smile again. This guy looked so troubled, but genuinely kind, she figured she could at least do something nice for him while he waited.
âMealâs on the house. Donât tell the boss, though. Iâm Jessica, by the way. Call me Jess.â
He offered a giant hand and an equal smile in return.
âSam.â
âWell, Sam, itâs nice to meet you. Iâll be over with your order soon.â
After a short talk with her boss, she came back with his order and the announcement that sheâd be waiting for him out back in about fifteen minutes. He was already waiting outside by the time sheâd packed up.
âC'mon, Iâve got a place where we can go.â
There was a lake not far from the diner, a place sheâd often go to clear her head. Perhaps going there with a total stranger in the late afternoon wasnât the best idea, but something told her she could trust him. It felt like the right thing to do.
They sat down underneath an old weeping willow that leaned over the water as though it was stretching sad tendrils out to touch the dark surface, and for the longest moment, they sat there in silence, watching as the sun set on the horizon, casting a faint glow on the water as well as their faces. Then he spilled his story. He couldnât exactly tell her the truth, but she seemed to be satisfied enough with half of the truth. He told her about how he was a soldier on a mission, a soldier whoâd done horrible things in the past, let his brother in arms down, but above all, a soldier who was looking to repent. And heâd found a mission of which he was fully convinced it would help him set things straight. He just wasnât sure what his âbrothers in armsâ would think of it.
It was intriguing to Jess, the way Sam kept talking about his fellow soldiers as though they were family. She guessed war forged bonds stronger than just simple comradeship. For the briefest moment, she envied him, for being able to love so deeply and commit himself wholly to this one cause. For the briefest moment, she wished she had someone like that, who would commit themselves to her. And then she reminded herself that heâd told her this was going to be a gravely dangerous mission. That he might not return from it unscathed.
âYou know, I find it hard to believe a guy like yourself can think of himself as a monster. I know weâve only just met, but if I have to be honest? Youâre one of the nicest guys Iâve ever met. Most guys I know arenât even sure what they want to do with their life yet, or they throw it all away for liquor and one good night with some random girl. YouâyouâreâŠdifferent. Youâre devoted. I admire that.â
She leaned back onto her hands, and for a moment, the sun illuminated her hair in such a way it made her look like a mythical angel, halo and all. She then sat up again, tipping her head to the side as she tried to form the right words to reassure him about his situation. She honestly didnât have the slightest clue about the full extent of the situation, but she remained positive. She always had been a bit of an optimist.
âMy mom always told me "youâre the only one who can decide which road youâre going to takeâ. You shouldnât let what others think influence your decision. If youâre confident this is the way to go, then I think you should do it.â
She hesitated for a moment, then reached into her pocket, pulling out the pen sheâd used to write his order down with earlier. Her fingers wrapped loosely around his wrist, and she pulled his hand towards her so she could write down a series of numbers onto his palm.
"And if youâre ever in doubt, just call me. I know a thing or two about motivation.â
They parted with sweet promises, never to see each other again. The next day, Sam Winchester traveled to Detroit to say 'yesâ to the Devil, with nothing but a faded phone number to remind him of who had convinced him to go through with the plan that would save the world from Apocalypse.
Months later, Jessica Moore received a phone call from Samâs 'brother in armsâ, to notify her heâd passed away in battle, and his remains were never recovered. That day, Jessica went to the very same spot where Sam had told her his story, or at least part of it, and spilled tears over a traveling soldier sheâd never come to see again.Â
He was a random, traveling stranger. A random passer-by who just so happened to be on his way through Michigan. And he never would have made any impact on her life if she hadnât convinced him to keep his chin up and continue his mission to stop the Apocalypse.
.
send me a "â" if you like rping with me or want to someday.
salva me ; anna & jess
It was dark and cold. Darker and colder than she had ever experienced, in life and death, and god, it was nearly impossible for her to breathe. Her hands reached out in the darkness, pushing their way past shards of some type of construction she did not care to identify at that point...and there was the reason why it had been so dark. Sand. Bucketloads---no, more than that. She clawed for life, now, wrestled her way up with the last bits of energy she could muster, until with one sharp, final burst, she had managed to dig through the top layer. The cool air against her fingers felt like a long overdue blessing, but she wasn't there yet; due to the thick layer of dirt and the weight of it, her last breath was running out fast---there was only so much she was capable of, especially in the weakened state she seemed to be in.
Her whereabouts were of lesser concern, then. Survival instincts had kicked in, thoughts consumed with mustering up all the strength she had left for that one final push upward. Air teased her from above, she could already feel it wafting gently down to her, as though it was beckoning her, but her mind told her "not yet". It was almost like a mantra;Â not yet, almost there, keep on going. Funny, really, because those were the exact same things she habitually told Sam when he was facing something difficult. No giving up. And she didn't.
After what seemed like an eternity, she finally managed to crawl her way out of the hell-hole she would later identify to be a grave. One breath of clean, fresh air and she was out; body sprawled over the mound of dirt she had pushed upward, her chest heaving under the strain it had been put through.
Had Jessica Moore been saved? She hadn't the faintest clue.
all this time I've been finding myself ; sam & jess
Where do you start when you're about to pick your life back up, when you're trying to find that red thread of your existence that you lost track of somewhere along the way? Right from scratch, is where. Whereas it had been molded into the 'bigger plan' to bend and break Jess until she would turn against Sam, things had not quite panned out the way Hell's big bosses had planned for her. Perhaps they had succeeded at the breaking, but not all that is broken is lost, and Jess was a prime example of that. When she found herself back on Earth for a reason yet unknown to her, revenge was the last thing on her mind. She waited, took a step back to mend what had been broken, to let the wounds of Hell close until the scars weren't visible in her behavior anymore, and only then did she venture out for clues.
As she had feared, there was hardly a thing left of the old house she used to share with Sam; the fires had taken more than half of it before the firemen had been able to extinguish them and apparently, that equaled the verdict of being demolished. All she had was an address, and nothing had turned up there. Tentatively asking around here and there only lead to the conclusion that Sam had fled the scene a long while back, leaving her empty-handed.
What if, though?
She told herself the option was so unlikely she shouldn't be putting all her hopes on it, but what if Sam's phone number was still in use? What if he hadn't discarded the phone for some type of sentiment -oh, she was aware Sam could be sentimental at times- or the memory of her? Grazing her bottom lip with her teeth, she closed her eyes as she dug the prepaid cellphone she'd managed to obtain out of her jacket pocket. It was a long shot, but a shot well worth it.
With a bit of hesitation, she slowly punched in the numbers in the order she remembered them by. If ever she needed a streak of luck, this was it...
{One last try: if you want a starter from me, please like this post and Iâll write you one. Oh, and feel free to check out my new theme, itâs still under construction and I have to update my page information, but weâre getting there.}
{outofcharacter; woops I forgot all about mun-day. Have a quick one before I head off to bed :3}
I'm currently playing kitten-mommy to three rescued kittens. They take up a lot of my time and attention >>; But they're so adorable.
30 Days of Supernatural - Season 9 Countdown
   âȘ Day 22: Best Sam relationship (romance) {Sam x Jess}
{outofcharacter; Righto! I have a starter to write for sam-the-sasquatch (and I'll probably be a dear and write one for restoredwings too ^.~), anyone else want one? I'm about to head off to bed, but I have a nice and long day off tomorrow, so I'll be able to write them then.}Â