padme at their wedding: [turns up in a beautiful lace wedding gown probably handmade with hundreds of carefully placed authentic Nabooian Pearls™
and wearing an equally gorgeous veil, looking like an angel sent down from heaven] anakin at their wedding: [turns up in jedi robes that probably haven’t been washed in a week] lol im ready to wife you (:
Sam wants to go to Disneyland. Dad and Dean have other plans.
A/N: This is my entry for the @asksamstuff contest, based on this post. As always, thanks to @themegalosaurus for putting up with me and helping me get this in posting shape.
It’s about the time Dean plugs Guns N’ Roses into the tape deck again that Sam decides he’s pretty much done with California. They’ve been on the road for hours through the desert, nothing around them except scrubby brushland and distant mountains. Everything is brown and dry and dead. The sun through the window feels hot enough to melt skin. Every once in a while Dad grumbles about “goddamn hippie drivers,” and Dean keeps craning his neck to look out the window at girls driving sports cars.
In the backseat, Sam picks at a hole in the knee of his jeans. He’s grown another inch in the past few months and the pants—thrift-store bought—are too short in the ankle again. His shirt, a hand-me-down from Dean, is baggy on him, but still sticks to his back and underarms with sweat, heavy and uncomfortable. There’s a sliver of shadow slanting across the seat and Sam tries to find shelter in it, but even with the windows rolled down the July heat is sweltering, and the leather seats are hot to the touch. Sam can feel his heartbeat in his sweaty palms.
The opening chords of “Paradise City” blast through the speakers too loud for comfort, and Sam announces, “I have to pee.”