Summary: Late 1940s. The war feels like it’s over. They’ve won, though no country, no alliance has taken over officially. They have simply become The Empire, a military giant that has gained the compliance of almost every major world entity.
Still, there are rumors. In the looming shadow of the Empire, they share secrets about a plot to build a bomb that can shatter continents and reform the world in the wielder’s image. For most of the public, it isn’t true, but for the nascent Rebel Alliance the chance cannot be taken.
At the helm of a major intelligence operation, Captain Clara Oswald discovers at the heart of all this madness a broken family, survived by a Dean Winchester. In their hands falls a responsibility that could turn the tide toward a crucial victory, if only they capture the plans to the Empire’s new weapon.
Read it here
Author’s Note
If you’re still around, thank you.
I started this fic in 2017 and have been wavering on finishing since. Still. I mean, it’s still not done, much to my chagrin.
I’ve never written such a long fic for soufflesandpies and it scares me, despite the fact that I have a whole movie that someone else has already written to base it on. Like an idiot, I added scenes to develop the relationship. I added characters from both fandoms to supplement it instead of just having Dean and Clara running around with the likes of rebel scum as Bodhi and Chirrut. Then I got scared writing those characters to the point where I just had whole marathons of both shows FOR. DAYS. trying to get voices right. (Alas, no one is perfect. Not me, and especially not my rendition of Twelve lmao.)
But my winter break is over in two weeks and I need this sucker out of my brain so I can fill the space with more stuff, so I’m going to try to post a piece of this monster everyday until I run out of content... or the thing is finished.
For the purpose of not spamming you, I’ll be posting the fic to my fledgling AO3. It’s got, like, seven parts in my drafts right now and it’s still not done, so it’ll be nice to have it all wrapped up there, where you can just hit next chapter.
I’ll still be updating here with links, so if you want to know when the next part goes up, you can safely turn on notifications without getting a million of them at once for useless reblogs.
Thanks for the likes and reblogs you’ve given on these fics. I promise you, they did not go unnoticed or unappreciated.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Doctor Who, Supernatural
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Relationships: Clara Oswin Oswald/Dean Winchester
Characters: Clara Oswin Oswald, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Christopher "Rigsy" Riggins, Bobby Singer, Kate Lethbridge-Stewart, Canton Everett Delaware III, Crowley (Supernatural), John Winchester
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting
Summary:
Late 1940s. The war feels like it’s over. They’ve won, though no country, no alliance has taken over officially. They have simply become The Empire, a military giant that has gained the compliance of almost every major world entity.
Still, there are rumors. In the looming shadow of the Empire, they share secrets about a plot to build a bomb that can shatter continents and reform the world in the wielder’s image. For most of the public, it isn’t true, but for the nascent Rebel Alliance the chance cannot be taken.
At the helm of a major intelligence operation, Captain Clara Oswald discovers at the heart of all this madness a broken family, survived by a Dean Winchester. In their hands falls a responsibility that could turn the tide toward a crucial victory, if only they capture the plans to the Empire’s new weapon.
AAAH I want to give it to you!! It’s been exactly 43 days since you sent this message during study week and I’ve been thinking of new fics to write for every single one of them. The reason I waited so long to answer this was because I wanted to provide links and links to fics, but so far, on the first day of Spring Semester, all I have to show for my winter break is this.
If you’re still interested, I have ideas for a quick sequel to the Gym AU fic and a Rogue One inspired au that might be set in the Star Wars universe, WWII, or some weird mixture of all three universes??? It’s getting complicated in my head, but the idea of Cassian!Clara is making me super happy.
Thank you so so much for the support! I will try my best to get out a few more fics this year. <3
So I just got done with two parts of a Rogue One inspired fic set in WWII??? Idk if anyone might be interested but i am LOVING spy!Clara. Trying to finish before next week but it's already Thursday!!
One last plausibly-in-universe fic because someone asked. As “To Clara Oswald” was the last time Dean lingers on Clara, this one is the last time Clara sees Dean.
Pre-Season 1 of Supernatural. Post-”death” for Clara.
Enjoy. :)
If it was planted on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere and had no lights that blinked stupidly in the window, that meant it probably wasn’t a too-shabby place to stop for a bite.
That was the only rule of the road that mattered today as more and more blacktop passed beneath the Impala and the effects of that black breakfast coffee faded away. As soon as Dean stepped in, though, he felt the strongest need to add to the rule. Except if it’s a fifties diner. Honestly. This place took its theme way too seriously.
Okay. So, admittedly, the red leather Cadillac seats were cool. He could see his kid brother taking a liking to them, sitting at a booth with books and paperwork stacked around him, changing his order from hot chocolate to coffee as the night wore on, but the thing was that Elvis was staring at him from a door across the room.
Freaking. Elvis.
With his huge hair and huge sunglasses and jutting hips and flaming red guitar.
It was almost like the place was trying too hard to convince you that it was red-blooded American and not alien or something.
“We’re not open,” said a girl behind the counter. A teenager. Maybe even younger. Arms crossed. Looked like pissed was the only emotion she had.
“Sign says open,” he informed her, mimicking her deadpan.
“Then, it’s wrong,” she said. “We’re closed. For repairs.”
His stomach was now a gaping black hole that was sucking the rest of his mind inside. And his patience.
“Look, kid, is there someone in charge here?”
Someone should add Majorly Pissed to the short list of emotions this girl had. Her eyes caught flame.
“I am in charge here. We are closed.”
“Well, you said ‘we,’ so I’m assuming-”
The Elvis door burst open, revealing the backside of a waitress as she fought back a red hot inferno with a fire extinguisher half her size.
Then the fire retreated, sulking back into the kitchen.
She huffed a breath.
“I told you,” said the teenager, starting in again on a previous conversation, “the manual said—”
“I know what the manual said!” the waitress hissed. The door swung shut behind her.
Dean blinked.
“Repairs,” the girl said again. “Closed.”
“Kid,” said Dean, indicating her. Then, he nodded at the door. “In charge.”
He was expecting her to throw her head back with a groan and stomp off to the kitchen like a normal teenager. Instead, she stared angrily at him, floating through the Elvis door as she did. There was a whispered argument as Dean chose a seat at the bar. He had taken a menu and was skimming the list of options when the waitress from before breezed around him behind the counter, throwing a towel over her shoulder.
“A lot of the big kitchen items are off them menu while we work on our… repairs,” she said, rubbing an imaginary spot with the towel. “Mostly, the lunch options, but I’d be happy to—”
Dean looked up when she stopped. She was staring at him, her chest not moving with breath. Admittedly, he was kinda starstruck about her too. She was not exactly crappy roadside diner material. She was kinda cute, in that round-faced Tinkerbell kinda way.
“Hi,” she mustered. She found her smile.
“Hi,” he replied. He could have said more but the void in his stomach was churning. He returned to the menu. “So, the lunch options? What are they, like, completely off the table or easy to whip up?”
The spell broke for her.
“The burgers— The burgers aren’t doable, exactly, but the chicken sandwiches and salads are. Fries might take a while.”
“Chicken sandwich it is, then.” he said.
“Any dessert?” she asked. “Ice cream, souffles… pies?”
“Got apple?”
She gestured around at the too-American diner. “‘Course. Specialty.”
“Then, sure.” He replaced his menu and smiled politely as the waitress went around back.
* * * * * * * * * *
The arrival of both the sandwich and the fries were announced by more whispered conversation behind Elvis. It piqued his curiosity as his hunger was settling.
“Who’s that girl to you?” he asked as the waitress rubbed again at an invisible spot. “Cousin?”
“Uh, no. We’re just friends.”
He lifted a brow. “She’s just a kid.”
That made her laugh for some reason. “Believe me, she’s a lot more than she looks.” She leaned against the counter and exposed her dimpled smile at him. “What about you? Traveling alone?”
“Yeah,” he said. Then he deflected. “How did you get here?”
“Me?”
“Yeah.”
“I popped into a spaceship and whoosh we came here. Magic.”
“I believe you.”
She fixed the jar of straws in front of him for something to do. “Good, because that’s the truth.”
“And what were you before you partied with aliens?”
“Professional traveler. Teacher. Nanny.”
“That all?”
They laughed.
“And you?” She placed her chin on her hands and looked at him as if his story was the only one she had ever wanted to hear. “What do you do out there on the great American roadway by yourself in such a fancy car?”
He balled up his napkin on his plate. “I hunt monsters.”
“You don’t say.” She smiled. “Like what?”
“Vampires, ghosts, werewolves…”
“That all?”
They smiled at each other, like their lives were punchlines in other, more peaceful worlds.
“I’ll get you your pie.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Another whispered conversation behind Elvis.
“Mind if I join you?” she asked, sweeping around the counter.
“Not at all.”
“Good,” she said. She settled across from him. “Pie and coffee for you, souffle and tea for me.”
He clinked cups with hers, trying to unfeel the feeling that this was turning into something of a date and that he kind of really liked it.
“So, uh– Souffle, huh? Is that why your diner is so overboard with…” He gestured to everything. “To compensate for the un-American-ness of its owners?”
“I’m sorry?”
Dean rolled his eyes. “I mean– C’mon, the Elvis portrait, the red seats, the sun setting over the American west in front of a cowboy?”
The waitress snorted into her drink. To her, it wasn’t a cowboy but an old friend. An old version of an old friend. Only she knew that the gun in his hand was not a gun.
But Dean didn’t know what to make of that response, so he went on the defense. “I’m just saying is all. It’s like a McFly might come running in at any second.”
“And Biff right after? Ugh, god, I hate when that happens,” she said into her cup.
He smiled.
“But what about you, though?” she asked, rather suddenly some time later. “Monster hunting alone sounds dangerous. Don’t you need, like, a team of experts?”
“Of, what, supernatural investigators?” he replied. “Not my style.”
“But maybe, like, a van and a smart girl with short hair and a pretty girl with know-how and a tall one and a dog?”
“Wait, you saying I’m Fred?”
“Well, you at least need a tall one,” she deflected. “Shaggy hair. Little-brother type, not exactly needing help all the time but needing help sometimes. Got one of those?”
“Sam,” he said. Aloud. He didn’t mean to but she was talking so fast and her accent and her eyes….
She warmed her hands around her cup and brought it up to her face. “Sam. Who’s that?”
Dean was never one to overshare. In fact, he hardly told anyone this much in one meeting. But he told her. He told her every annoying thing about Sam, which took the whole day, until the sun was down and the moon was shivering above the mountains and seconds of pie had been delivered. Through it all, she hung on every word, her eyes shining with nothing but interest.
“Wait, so all this took place years ago?” she said. “What happened? Where has Sam gone?”
“Stanford.”
“Ooh.” She whistled. “You must be proud.”
He shrugged.
“You’re not proud?” she asked. “You’ve come all this way to visit.”
“No, actually,” he said. “I’m heading up to Oregon. Our dad went up there for a job and he hasn’t checked in for a while. It’s not unusual but— it was an important job.”
“So why’d you head westward instead of northwest? Surely, something’s calling you to California.”
“What, like, fate?”
“Maybe.”
He gave her a look like, Sweetheart. Please.
He needed a break from his life. “So why did you come here?”
“Here?”
“Nowhere, New Mexico. Why here?”
“Meeting someone.” She looked up at the cowboy. “Well, not really meeting. This diner just needs to be here on time.”
Dean blinked. “Well, that wasn’t cryptic.”
“Neither was your route to Oregon.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not bothering Sam at school. He’s moved on.”
“From monster hunting?” she asked, incredulously. “No one ever moves on from monster hunting. I mean, it’s monster hunting, the family business.”
“You moved on from being jumping aboard alien spaceships.”
Her eyes flicked around the diner. “Have I, though?”
Before he could decode her meaning, she leaned over the counter for the first time and touched his hand. Her gaze was penetrating, peeling back every layer of him and not in the end-of-a-good-date kind of way.
“Go to him,” she urged. “Find Sam, find your dad, be together for Christmas.”
“That sounds too simple for my family.”
“Well, it could be.” She squeezed.
Then, she collected their dishes in the sink behind her and went past him to the kitchen one more time.
“Look,” she said, standing in front of Elvis. “You said you were done running after Sam. But I think we both know: you aren’t.”
The door didn’t swing behind her as it did before. It just shut, like a dismissal.
He left some cash on the counter and took his leave.
As Dean drifted down the highway, he came across a junction that would guide him northward or farther west to where the mountains met the sea. He tried not to think of the latter as an option, but even loud music couldn’t drown out the idea that waitress had planted in his head.
He steered towards California. It didn’t matter what she thought about his motives. Maybe he just wanted some more sunshine before hitting Oregon. Maybe he wanted to hang out near college chicks and people his age. Maybe it’d just been too damn long since he’d seen his brother.
And so what? There’s bound to be a job somewhere down there. Yeah. Maybe that was it. Maybe something else was calling.
* * * * * * * * * *
“That’s not what we came here for,” said Ashildr, irritated, back in the console room.
She and Clara circled each other evenly around the TARDIS console.
“No,” Clara agreed. She had gotten used to her companion’s sulky attitude, and to be honest, after a long overdue date with Dean Winchester, nothing could bring her down. “But I think he needed it.”
“He didn’t even know who you were,” she pointed out.
“And I don’t think he will. Not for a while anyways,” Clara responded. “But that’s fine. That’s the fun in time travel, innit? You can set in motion important moments in history. Important for him because he meets up with his brother and saves the world. Important for his brother because he finds his family again, where he belongs and all that.”
She toggled a few switches, while Ashildr pushed a few buttons on her side. Their TARDIS shifted gently to one side and slid into the spacetime vortex. The job done, they walked towards each other, hands on the console.
“And important for you because…?”
“Important for me because his path crosses mine. And that feels important to me.”
Ashildr smiled and walked away with the console screen. “He’ll blow away, you know.”
Clara smiled back. Ashildr didn’t know Dean’s history. Or his future.
“No,” Clara told her. “I don’t quite think he will.”
When Clara Oswald jumped into the Doctor’s time-stream, she split herself up into thousands of pieces, all scattered across time and space. These “other Claras” live their lives never knowing they are anything other than ordinary. They’re born, they live, they die…
But when Clara “Oswin” Oswald discovers that she is not her own person, merely the “echo” of the original Clara Oswald, she refuses to accept that she is anybody’s copy. Angered by her feelings of inferiority, she begins to track down and kill the other echoes one by one. Once the others are gone, to finally prove she is the true Clara, she has one last target: her creator.
Neither Winchester knew what to do with the decrepit green telephone in the corner of the war room. It didn’t make any noise; its number pad was stuck. But it was a part of the place’s old-timey charm, so obviously they had to keep it as a part of the inheritance from the Men of Letters.
But the fact that it had become just a part of the decor apparently couldn’t stop it from ringing.
Sam cocked a brow at his brother across the table.
“Nose goes.” Dean replied.
“That’s not fair! You were already touching-”
The phone trilled again.
“You better get that, Sammy.”
Reluctantly, Sam stood, walked to the other room, and picked up the phone. “Hello?... Doc? Hey, what’s up?”
A crinkle appeared in Dean’s forehead. He checked his phone beneath the table. No missed calls. No texts.
His heart lurched.
“Oh,” he heard Sam say, his voice deflated. “Doc, look, I’m so-”
He could hear the sound of a dropped call, of a phone going back into its receiver, and then Sam’s deep breath. He could see a new slouch in his brother’s shoulders as he reappeared in the doorway, but Dean had already stood to leave.
“Dean?” Sam called.
The door shut.
Outside, the Impala’s engine roared to life. The old stereo turned up, Van Morrison crooning, “In the misty morning fog with / Our, our hearts a-thumping / And you, my brown-eyed girl, / You, my brown-eyed girl.”
Dean shut it off, screwing his eyes shut. Then, he floored the gas and pulled onto the highway.
When he looked up, the stars seemed too bright.
He came back days later and found Cas and Sam waiting for him at the table. They looked up expectantly when he came through the door.
“Dean,” Sam started, but his brother waved his hand dismissively, heading towards his bedroom.
“Do you at least want to know-”
“No.”
“Clara was a very-”
Dean pointed. “Cas, don’t you dare.”
Exasperated, “Dean-”
He stopped. Turned.
“Look, I know this one isn’t on us for once. This type of life's shit- it’s toxic, and she knew that. The Doctor knew that. But that doesn’t mean we have to obsess over it. We still have shit to deal with, so it’s best that we just deal.”
“Dean-”
“I mean it, Sam.”
“Fine,” he relented. “We can do that. But only after this.”
He reached forward and cracked open the three beers that had been standing in the center of the table. He slid one over to Cas, one for himself, but the last he left in the center.
After a moment, Dean took it.
“To the Impossible Girl,” said Sam, raising his bottle.
“To the Impossible Girl.” Cas repeated.
He was leaning over to tap his bottle against Sam’s when Dean said, “No.”
I double dog dare you, Tumblr, to leave some kind of comment on every story you read on AO3 this November.
You don’t have to compose a sonnet, or make offers of marriage, but I challenge you to take the minute of your time required to type one sentence of feedback into the comment field after you’ve read any story you didn’t completely hate, and tell the author something about what your experience of reading their work was. Two or three words is all it takes, if you’re feeling shy – “I liked this” or “This was good”
Something to let the author know that you recognize their efforts, that you are at least on some level aware that they entertained you, or at least kept you occupied for a little while, and that these comments are the only pay you’re ever going to be asked to give up for it. The only pay these authors are going to get. Recognition. From you.
When you think about how many hours of entertainment you get from reading fanfic every week, it’s not so much to pay, really.
So click the comment button. Use your words. Give a fan writer some encouragement to keep doing what they do.
cosigned, especially if it’s (a) a fic with little to no comments on it, &/or (b) if it’s an older fic. (a) because comments count on those fics even more than you’d think (as on rarepair fic and in smaller fandoms), and (b) because I’ve always noticed that there’s an initial surge of comments on fics that dwindles fast, and knowing that older fic holds up past the first blush of enthusiasm is just nice.
Fall Festival AU : Your otp gets stuck on the old Ferris wheel and things start to happen ;)
A story told through texts
text from Dean to Sam : where the hell are you
text from Clara to Jess : hey where are you?
text from Jess to Clara : in the haunted house with Sam
text from Sam to Dean : i’m with jess
text from Dean to Sam : jesus are you guys making out
text from Sam to Dean : no
text from Dean to Sam : friggin unbelievable
text from Sam to Dean : wait you didn’t actually come did you
text from Clara to Jess : but you said we’d ride the ferris wheel together
text from Clara to Jess : y’know
text from Clara to Jess : because we’re supposed to both be single and revolting against those cliches where carnivals are only for couples
text from Clara to Jess : BECAUSE THEY’RE NOT.
text from Jess to Clara : clara please
text from Jess to Clara : sam’s special to me okay?
text from Sam to Dean : is that the ferris wheel?
text from Sam to Dean : i didn’t even know you knew how to access the camera on your phone
text from Dean to Sam : i’m not an idiot
text from Dean to Sam : stupid
text from Dean to Sam : what the hell am i supposed to do now
text from Dean to Sam : all the chicks here are already partnered up
text from Dean to Sam : it’s like noah’s friggin ark out here
text from Clara to Jess : fine
text from Sam to Dean : wait i recognize that girl in that picture
text from Sam to Dean : the one right in front of the ferris wheel
text from Dean to Sam : bangs?
text from Sam to Dean : yeah that’s clara
text from Clara to Jess : no wait please come over here
text from Clara to Jess : there’s a guy who keeps looking over his phone at me
text from Dean to Sam : she’s kinda cute
text from Dean to Sam : in that english teacher way
text from Sam to Dean : ???
text from Sam to Dean : look just go say hi to her
text from Dean to Sam : no dude
text from Dean to Sam : she looks like she’s getting ready to pepper spray me
text from Jess to Clara : do not pepper spray him
text from Clara to Jess : does this mean you’re near
text from Jess to Clara : no it means that i’m looking over at sam’s phone
text from Jess to Clara : that’s his brother dean
text from Clara to Jess : i’m not seeing the resemblance
text from Jess to Clara : hah no one does -S
text from Clara to Jess : please don’t make me say hi
text from Jess to Clara : look the ride is only what five????
text from Jess to Clara : maybe six minutes long???
text from Jess to Clara : just give me and sam that much time
text from Jess to Clara : we’ll meet up with you guys later
text from Jess to Clara : it’ll be like a group thing
text from Clara to Jess : ugh fine
text from Dean to Sam : she just looked at me
text from Dean to Sam : now she’s dragging herself to the line
text from Dean to Sam : what do i do
text from Sam to Dean : just get in line with her
text from Dean to Sam : am i supposed to ride with her
text from Sam to Dean : your call
text from Clara to Jess : they called for another single rider when i sat down
text from Clara to Jess : AND GUESS WHO RAISED HIS HAND
text from Jess to Clara : it’s fine
text from Clara to Jess : no it’s not
text from Jess to Clara : why
text from Clara to Jess : i think he’s turned green
text from Dean to Sam : not your brightest idea sammy
text from Dean to Sam : so remember that one plane ride with dad
text from Sam to Dean : jesus
text from Sam to Dean : it’s just one hundred feet off the ground
text from Dean to Sam : christ whyd you make me look down
text from Sam to Dean : DON’T DO THAT
text from unknown to Clara : dean has a fear of heights
text from Clara to unknown : yea i realized that
text from Clara to unknown : who is this
text from unknown to Clara : his brother
text from Sam to Clara : just distract him
text from Jess to Clara : we’re on our way
text from Dean to Sam : so your friend has brown eyes
text from Sam to Dean : how you holding up
text from Dean to Sam : haven’t puked yet so *thumbs up emoji*
text from Dean to Sam : but i might in order to make a point
text from Sam to Dean : what
text from Clara to Jess : well i said something to him
text from Clara to Jess : HE IS INFURIATING
Now Entering Group Chat : Clara, Sam, Jess
text from Sam to group : what did he say now
text from Clara to group : aliens dont exist
text from Jess to group : ???
text from Sam to group : that’s IT???
text from Clara to group : it’s ABSURD not to think so
text from Clara to group : THE UNIVERSE IS HUGE
text from Clara to group : to think humans are the only life forms is egotistical and IGNORANT
text from Sam to group : ...okay
text from Dean to Sam : sam you gotta get me off this friggin wheel
text from Dean to Sam : she’s NUTS
text from Sam to Dean : they’re gonna try to get you off the next round
text from Sam to Dean : just hang in there
text from Clara to Jess : what was that noise
text from Clara to Jess : why are we stopped
text from Jess to Clara : …
text from Jess to Clara : so there’s been a slight technical problem
text from Dean to Sam : FUCK
text from Sam to Dean : we could hear you say that from here
text from Sam to Dean : at least you’re not at the top
text from Dean to Sam : aT lEaSt Ur nOt aT tHe ToP
text from Sam to Dean : ???
text from Sam to Dean : are you trying to mock me in text form
text from Clara to Jess : WELL WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO NOW
text from Jess to Clara : enjoy the view?
text from Clara to Jess : ha ha.
text from Dean to Sam : i’m gonna friggin spiderman my why down from here
text from Clara to Jess : hey good news i think he’s gonna jump
text from Sam to Dean : DO NOT SPIDERMAN YOUR WAY DOWN
text from Jess to Clara : can you keep it down? i think you’re disturbing the other passengers
text from Jess to Clara : god cant you guys just talk like civilized human beings
text from Clara to Jess : HE keeps starting it!
text from Dean to Sam : it’s been twenty minutes what’s going on
text from Sam to Dean : repair guy just showed up
text from Dean to Sam : jesus
text from Clara to Jess : stars, he’s really looking down
text from Sam to Clara : DON’T LET HIM LOOK DOWN
text from Clara to Jess : tell your boyfriend to back out of our conversation
text from Clara to Jess : i mean sad
text from Jess to Clara : yeah sam told me
text from Jess to Clara : their dad hasn’t been home in a while
text from Clara to Jess : oh
text from Jess to Clara : sam says he’s not worried but dean.. well.
text from Jess to Clara : better than going to a bar to look for a fight, right?
text from Clara to Jess : i’m gonna talk to him
text from Jess to Clara : clara…
text from Clara to Jess : differently, this time. i’ll try a new tactic.
text from Clara to Dean : is that someone else or is it you i hear crying for your mum
text from Dean to Clara : mum? are you sure it ain’t you?
text from Dean to Clara : ah, so it has a smile
text from Sam to Jess : where did you go
text from Sam to Jess : i lost you
text from Jess to Sam : i went back around to the side of the ferris wheel to see how they were doing and
text from Jess to Sam : LOOK
text from Sam to Jess : the video’s kinda dark but
text from Sam to Jess : is that ?? are they ??
text from Sam to Jess : WHAT THE HELL
text from Jess to Sam : RIGHT?!
text from Sam to Jess : i don’t want to see that
text from Sam to Jess : i don’t need to see that
text from Jess to Sam : wow look at them go
text from Jess to Sam : maybe i picked the wrong winchester ;)
text from Sam to Jess : …
text from Jess to Sam : i’m kidding
text from Jess to Sam : i love you
text from Sam to Jess : i love you too
text from Jess to Sam : now let’s give them hell
text from Jess to Clara : WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING UP THERE
text from Sam to Dean : I THOUGHT YOU GUYS WERE GONNA RIP EACH OTHER’S THROATS OFF
text from Dean to Sam : feminist types man
text from Dean to Sam : they’re just hotter when you get them riled up
text from Clara to Jess : i broke him *smirky face emoji*
text from Clara to Jess : aliens ftw
text from Jess to Clara : atta girl
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