What's this, you're asking... season 16? Well, some folks have formed a group called Frontierland Productions and plotted out a 16th season of Supernatural, taking place in the years (yes, YEARS) between 15.19 and 15.20. When I read the most recent episode, "Take the Long Way Home," I expressed my love and writer ameliacareful suggested I recap it like a filmed episode. And then quickreaver basically double-dog-dared me, so here it is. A retelling of someone's fic. Will anybody care? Let's find out! But go read the fic first. Seriously, it's amazing.

And remember, any snark is written with the utmost love and respect...

THEN: Chuck. Jack. Sam and Dean are the subjects of a podcast. They went to Vegas and killed a minotaur. Same shit, different day, right?

NOW: We see the Winchesters in the Impala, staking out an apartment complex. Apparently they're waiting for a witch who is magicking up a career as a fashion designer, despite a lack of talent so appalling that even Sam Winchester recognizes it. I wonder what Tofer the witch would think about Sam's orange jacket? (I'm quite sure Tim Gunn would be disappointed, but kind.) Two women are dead, but (spoiler alert) we never find out if Tofer is killing his competition, or if his ugly-ass clothes are killing his models.

A cute little purple car shows up and the guys follow Tofer inside, using the building keys they stole earlier. Oh, wait, this guy's full name is Christopher Listofler? That's. Um. Unfortunate. Okay. Moving on. The door opens on its own before they have a chance to break in. Tofer is sitting there in his living room with a lit candle, for that nice witchy ambience. {Sidebar: I need to point out how pleased I am that Sam changed his hair a little bit after 15.19 and has long, face-framing bangs again, kind of like the back half of season 8. And no evidence of hairspray. I approve.}

Tofer immediately pegs them as Not FBI, but Sam, for some reason, is mesmerized by whatever is draped over a clothes dummy in the corner. He can't seem to look away from it. Dean is also distracted by it, but not to the same extent. Tofer gets out a spell that makes Sam hit the floor, so naturally Dean shoots him in the head. The candle sputters out but the room is brightly lit by a brilliant glowing cloud swirling near the ceiling.

Sam's eyes are open but he looks dazed and unfocused. Dean goes into full-on panic mode (nice!) and checks for a pulse. Sam suddenly comes back online with a gasp. Dean is still panicky, buzzing around Sam asking if he's okay and telling him not to move. Sam calmly touches his chest, gazes up at the glowy cloud swirling above him, and says "I think that's my soul."

Duh duh duh!!! Soulless Sam is in the house!

Title card!

{Sidebar: I also have to say I appreciate that season 16's title card is just shirtless Sam with wet hair, lying on his bed with his hands behind his head, staring sadly through the blades of his ceiling fan. It's a bold choice and I respect that.}

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I felt kind of stupid for not recognizing Sam was wearing Dean's watch at the end of 15.20, even though I literally ficced that in reverse.

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Because I started writing Wincest in the shower this morning.

I’ve never really been into it. At first I avoided it, and then I’d read it if the rest of the story was really good. And that’s where I am now. I don’t seek it out, but I don’t walk away from a good fic just because of Wincest.

And now this plot bunny has burrowed into my brain and it won’t leave. So I guess I write Wincest now.

Don’t worry, it’s not explicit. It’s not about the sex. Because I’m writing it, so obviously it’s about the postcoital angst.

(Why does my phone autocorrect for Wincest and Winchestery but not postcoital?)

(Like I don’t know why...)

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

Genre: Het, I guess? Gencest? Doesn't conflict with Wincest
Length: About 2300 words
Rating: PG
Characters: Sam Winchester and family
Synopsis: Sam's life after 15.20, from his wife's POV

Julia has been widowed (God, what an awful word, widowed) for three years when she meets Sam. It's a work-based friendship at first. She's kind of lonely and sad, he's kind of lonely and sad, and they gravitate toward each other. And then one evening they're at a bar, the last ones left from an after-work happy hour, both of them drinking more than they should, and she thinks he's kind and thoughtful and smart and he may be 10 years older than me but he's still hot as hell and I enjoy being with him and I look forward to seeing him and maybe I should just… and she kisses him. He's shocked; shocked enough to confirm that he wasn't just hanging around hoping to make it out of the friendzone. And then he's holding her face in his hands and he's kissing her too.

It's good. They're good together. It's not the earth-shattering, all-encompassing romance she had with Shaun. Julia knows she'll never have anything like that again. Most people don't even get one soulmate in their lives; no one gets two. And she knows Sam doesn't have that same desperate love that Shaun had for her; she knows she'll never have his whole heart. (She knows the woman he intended to marry was killed in a fire, she knows another woman he loved went back to her ex. She doesn't know which of these women still owns that last piece of Sam's heart.) But she loves Sam, and he loves her, and they get married.


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I'm sure I will have more thoughts later, but today these things are on my mind.

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Spoilers for 15.19...

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Presented without comment or apology.

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Well, friends, here we go. Are you ready?

(I'm not. But here we go anyway.)

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