Superbadfic III: Dude Looks Like a Lady (1/1)
And it's thursday. Time for more Superbadfic!
Fic: SuperbadficIII: Dude Looks Like a Lady (1/1)
Story by: Pen37
Photos by: Oxoniesis art.
Summary: Sam and Dean find something else to hunt
Author: pen37
Beta: I was running behind today, and requested help from lyonza, strangevisitor7, amcnh, and csweird. csweird was fastest on the draw, and as a result, it's her betawork you see.
Fandom: Supernatural
Classification: Gen
Characters: Sam, Dean
pairings: None
The rest of the superbadfic series is here.
Rating: PG
Warning: There are photos. May not be dialup friendly.
Sam didn't make any effort to be quiet as he walked into the hotel room. In his own bed, Dean was still sleeping.
Sam frowned at that. Last week, his brother had taken off on his own to prove his heterosexuality. When he'd come back, he had a huge grin on his face and the desire to catnap for a long time.
“Hey sleeping beauty,” Sam called out.
“Dude, still tired,” Dean muttered.
“Tough,” Sam said as he sat across from Dean on his own bed. “You're the one who decided to sleep with every Wincest writer in the country.”
Dean grinned at that. “Heh. Think I missed a few.”
Sam rolled his eyes in response.
With a reluctant groan, Dean sat up and reached for the extra coffee in Sam's hand. “So are we hunting monsters this time, or bad fiction.”
“Bad fiction,” Sam said.
“I kind of miss the days when we just dug up bodies, salted and burned them.” Dean complained.
“I could look for one of those next,” Sam said with a sympathetic grunt. “But right now, we're dealing with Winsister fiction.”
“Win . . . sister?” Dean frowned. “Lemme guess, Wincest without the guy-on-guy action.”
“Got it in one,” Sam nodded. “You must have done a good job out there convincing girls you were heterosexual.”
Dean waved the jab off. “So what are we going to do about this?”
“Luckily, I know a ritual.”
“Like a spell?”
“No, like a ritual.”
“What's the difference, Dude?” Dean frowned.
“Spells aren't approved by the Vatican.” Sam said.
“Whatever,” Dean rolled his eyes. “Let's get this show on the road.”
Several hours later, the boys sat at the table, combining ingredients.
“Eye of newt . . . hair of dog. You sure this isn't a spell?” Dean asked.
“Hardy-har-har,” Sam shook his head. “Just . . . put the Angelica Root into the pot.”
“Whatever, Betty Crocker.” Dean said. He picked up the ingredient, and stared at it. Instantly, he was seized by the impulse to taste. He knew it would taste awful, but the impulse was there anyway. Like picking a scab or wiggling a loose tooth.
With a quick glance to make sure Sam wasn't watching, he pulled the root to his mouth. His tongue darted out as he gave it a quick lick.
He was rewarded when the bitter taste filled his mouth. With another grimace, he threw it into the pot.
It was the wrong move. Instantly, the room was filled with a strobe of light and the smell of burning hair.
“What happened?” Sam asked in between coughs.
“Don't know,” Dean said. It wasn't a total lie. He suspected that he'd accidentally caused the spell to backfire when he threw the angelica root into the pot, but he couldn't be sure.
As their eyes gradually readjusted, Dean found himself blinking back at Sam. For his part, Sam was wearing an expression of surprise.
Then, like a falling tree, Sam leaned over the table and shook with laughter.
“Dude? You okay?” Dean asked.
“Look in the mirror.” Sam said between fits of laughter.
Dean got up, ran for the bathroom, and stared into the mirror. Somewhere beneath long hair and above a set of boobs, his face paled. Then he turned slowly to look at Sam. “Dude.”
“You make an ugly chick,” Sam laughed back.
“I hate you so much, Dude.” Dean said with a snarl.
Fic: SuperbadficIII: Dude Looks Like a Lady (1/1)
Story by: Pen37
Photos by: Oxoniesis art.
Summary: Sam and Dean find something else to hunt
Author: pen37
Beta: I was running behind today, and requested help from lyonza, strangevisitor7, amcnh, and csweird. csweird was fastest on the draw, and as a result, it's her betawork you see.
Fandom: Supernatural
Classification: Gen
Characters: Sam, Dean
pairings: None
The rest of the superbadfic series is here.
Rating: PG
Warning: There are photos. May not be dialup friendly.
Sam didn't make any effort to be quiet as he walked into the hotel room. In his own bed, Dean was still sleeping.
Sam frowned at that. Last week, his brother had taken off on his own to prove his heterosexuality. When he'd come back, he had a huge grin on his face and the desire to catnap for a long time.
“Hey sleeping beauty,” Sam called out.
“Dude, still tired,” Dean muttered.
“Tough,” Sam said as he sat across from Dean on his own bed. “You're the one who decided to sleep with every Wincest writer in the country.”
Dean grinned at that. “Heh. Think I missed a few.”
Sam rolled his eyes in response.
With a reluctant groan, Dean sat up and reached for the extra coffee in Sam's hand. “So are we hunting monsters this time, or bad fiction.”
“Bad fiction,” Sam said.
“I kind of miss the days when we just dug up bodies, salted and burned them.” Dean complained.
“I could look for one of those next,” Sam said with a sympathetic grunt. “But right now, we're dealing with Winsister fiction.”
“Win . . . sister?” Dean frowned. “Lemme guess, Wincest without the guy-on-guy action.”
“Got it in one,” Sam nodded. “You must have done a good job out there convincing girls you were heterosexual.”
Dean waved the jab off. “So what are we going to do about this?”
“Luckily, I know a ritual.”
“Like a spell?”
“No, like a ritual.”
“What's the difference, Dude?” Dean frowned.
“Spells aren't approved by the Vatican.” Sam said.
“Whatever,” Dean rolled his eyes. “Let's get this show on the road.”
Several hours later, the boys sat at the table, combining ingredients.
“Eye of newt . . . hair of dog. You sure this isn't a spell?” Dean asked.
“Hardy-har-har,” Sam shook his head. “Just . . . put the Angelica Root into the pot.”
“Whatever, Betty Crocker.” Dean said. He picked up the ingredient, and stared at it. Instantly, he was seized by the impulse to taste. He knew it would taste awful, but the impulse was there anyway. Like picking a scab or wiggling a loose tooth.
With a quick glance to make sure Sam wasn't watching, he pulled the root to his mouth. His tongue darted out as he gave it a quick lick.
He was rewarded when the bitter taste filled his mouth. With another grimace, he threw it into the pot.
It was the wrong move. Instantly, the room was filled with a strobe of light and the smell of burning hair.
“What happened?” Sam asked in between coughs.
“Don't know,” Dean said. It wasn't a total lie. He suspected that he'd accidentally caused the spell to backfire when he threw the angelica root into the pot, but he couldn't be sure.
As their eyes gradually readjusted, Dean found himself blinking back at Sam. For his part, Sam was wearing an expression of surprise.
Then, like a falling tree, Sam leaned over the table and shook with laughter.
“Dude? You okay?” Dean asked.
“Look in the mirror.” Sam said between fits of laughter.
Dean got up, ran for the bathroom, and stared into the mirror. Somewhere beneath long hair and above a set of boobs, his face paled. Then he turned slowly to look at Sam. “Dude.”
“You make an ugly chick,” Sam laughed back.
“I hate you so much, Dude.” Dean said with a snarl.