the taco queue

2

Requested:
Y/N: Stuart, the presentation is tomorrow and we aren’t even half way through! Help me here!
Stuart: nooo, just let me finish watching this game first
Y/N: you hate soccer!
Stuart: do I have to???
Y/N: yesss!! I can’t do this alone
Stuart: you want to get tacos or something
Y/N: you’re useless
Stuart: after we finish?
Y/N: so you’ll help?
Stuart: hypothetically, if we get tacos after…

anonymous asked:

M!A TACO RAIN! IT'S RAINING TACOS!

Sonata is happy. But only for a moment. Even she realizes that this is not going to end well soon as the world becomes flooded in sloppy bean soft and hard-shelled delights that flop and crack against houses and cars and street pavements and create collateral damage like some kind of surreal hail storm from a fever dream.

“No! No! Not like this! This wasn’t the way I wanted it!”

6

i don’t understand why “happily surprised” turned into “stick your tongue out”

Consequences

34. “Stop eating all these burritos. I’ll have to pay the consequences later on tonight!”

Dean to Sam

Incorporate the line, “You’re gassy! You eat half a burrito and you get toxic!”

It was just supposed to be a quick drink after a hunt – a time-honoured tradition between yourself and the Winchesters. However, you and Dean ended up in a drinking contest (If you can drink more purple nurples than me I’ll sand my own face off and eat it) and, never one to give in, you both ended up completely and utterly hammered. Sam, (bless your pure, white, cinnamon-roll soul) had opted into being your designated driver at that point.

You’ve just stumbled out of the bar and Sam is dragging you both by the arms towards the Impala. You’re whining something incoherent about missing the warmth and Dean is looking for his keys – which Sam produces from his own pocket, much to Dean’s dismay.

The younger Winchester manages to corral you both into the back seat and drive off. Just a minute into the journey, you lean over to Sam.

“I gotta pee.” You say quietly – or, so you think – and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, and I’m hungry.” Dean adds, “Can we stop at Taco Bell?”

“Yeah! I can pee and we can get tacos!” You agree wholeheartedly. Sam rolls his eyes and agrees, if only for the sake of keeping you both happy. Sam pulls up to the drive-thru and waits in the queue (apparently Taco Bell is popular at three AM on a Saturday morning) while you climb out of the car.

“Can I get a burrito?” Dean asks, and Sam nods in order to get his brother to shut up. However, a few seconds later you reappear, holding a large paper bag. You hurl yourself into the car and drop the bag on Dean’s lap.

“Quick!” You slur, “Drive, drive, drive!”

Sam takes one look at you and, thinking something’s wrong, puts his foot on it and drives out onto the road. You take the bag back from Dean and look inside, giggling with glee.

“I took it from the guy at the counter,” You admit mischievously, “Want one?”

“Did you get burritos?” Dean asks. You shrug.

“I don’t know what’s in there.” You say, “Take a look.” You upend the bag over the middle seat and Dean grins, snatching up one of the burritos.

“You’re my favourite.” Dean declares, taking a bite out of the burrito. You pick up a taco and throw the rest at Sam, who rolls his eyes at you and takes a bite anyway. If you can’t beat ‘em, join em.

You eat your taco and as Sam drives back, you find yourself dozing off – when you come to, the boys are bickering.

“Dean, be quiet.”

“Then stop eating all these burritos. I’ll have to pay the consequences later on tonight!” The elder Winchester protests. Sam sighs.

“It’s not that bad.”

“You’re gassy! You eat half a burrito, and you get toxic!”

You decide that that is the appropriate moment to chime in with the opening riff to Britney Spears’ Toxic. Both brothers look at you, and, in perfect unison, say, “Go back to sleep, Y/N.”

You groan, turning over and closing your eyes once more – you have better things on your mind. Like goats.