#akaashi saves your ass from a karen basically

[dinosaurtsukki]

prompt 69 (nice) for akaashi, would love to see him SNAP at someone 👀 -🍙

69 is the magic word onigiri-anon akjdjakfd. also OMG YES I LOVE THIS PROMPT i just read it, thought of akaashi, and thought of the perfect thing!

Akaashi + 69

69.  “You’re going to burn in a very special level in hell. A level they reserve for child molesters, animal abusers, and people who talk at the theater.”

There are approximately 1,010,300 words in the English language, but you could never string enough words together to properly explain how much you wanted to hit the Karen standing in front of you with a chair. Just when you thought that taking the eight to ten pm shift at Starbucks couldn’t get any worse, you just had to deal with a Karen.

“Ma’am, the cups with the new logo are the only ones we have in stock. We do not have a collection of ‘hidden, reserved cups with the old logo’ stashed ‘in the back,” you responded calmly to the woman in front of you, directly quoting snippets of her complaint.

“The store near my area has them,” she argued. “I’m not taking my drink until you serve it in one of those cups.”

“Ma’am, you already paid for your drink,” you said, biting back a sigh and a snappish remark, opting for the tone you used when talking to toddlers. 

“Then I want a refund!” she practically screeched. 

“We made the exact drink that you ordered so it goes against our policy if you ask for a refund,” you said. 

“You’re stealing my money.”

“Ma’am, it is not stealing when you paid for it.”

“Jesus, all this for a cup?” you heard someone say. Thanks to the raging lady in front of you, you almost forgot about the boy standing behind her. You recognized him as a regular visitor during your shifts and he seemed like the run-off-the-mill tired college student who needed caffeine. This time, he seemed even more in need of caffeine. 

“Excuse me?” the Karen turned around and narrowed her eyes at the young man.

“It’s literally just a cup,” the guy enunciated. “What are you, fifty? Don’t you just feel a little pathetic about fighting with someone who’s probably half your age about a cup?”

“Shut up, you’re not even part of this conversation,” Karen snapped at him. “I can call my lawyer right now.” 

“Ma’am that won’t be necessary,” you almost pleaded. Thankfully, mister tired college student didn’t lose his cool for one second.

“Go ahead, call them. And then, your lawyer will come all the way here to this very Starbucks because their client has the emotional ability of a toddler. Then, they’ll magically make that special cup that you can’t drink any other Starbucks from appear. And then you’re going to go home with your Starbucks and spend the rest of your life harassing young employees so that when you die, you’re going to burn in a very special level in hell. A level they reserve for child molesters, animal abusers, and people who talk at the theater,” they said, calmly, coolly, and with each syllable dripping with venom. It was absolutely wonderful. You smiled for what was probably the first time during your shift. Karen’s mouth opened and closed like a fish.

“F-fine. I never liked ordering at this Starbucks anyway,” she tossed her head around with a huff, clutching her purse close to her as she left the store.

“Um, I don’t know what to say,” you let out a laugh. “But, that was amazing.”

“Thank you,” the tired college student tipped his head just a little. A smile appeared on the corner of his mouth. “Are you... gonna take that?” he asked, pointing to the drink that Karen left behind. “Because technically she didn’t pay for it so... oh but if you want it, go ahead.”

“No thanks. Triple, venti, half-sweet, non-fat, caramel macchiatos aren’t my thing,” you shrugged.

“Great,” the guy swiped the cup off the counter. “If there’s one other thing I hate about myself, its that me and that lady kind of like the same things.” With that, he took a long sip and sighed.

“Don’t feel too bad,” you chuckled. “So, are you good with that or is there still anything you want to order?”

“Yeah. Here’s an easy one. Just a grande Americano with maybe three extra shots of espresso,” he said, narrowing his eyes at your name tag. “Y/n,” he added.

“Alright,” you typed up his order and picked up a cup. “Name?”

“Akaashi.” You smiled and penned his name down, committing it to memory. It was the last drink you had to make of the night and you were more than ready to go home. But, ending with a customer like Akaashi wasn’t so bad.

“Here you go,” you smiled, genuinely this time and not with the forced one you used around customers. 

“Thanks,” Akaashi accepted the drink, slotting a paper bill through the tip jar. “I’ll see you around, y/n,” he smiled at you, holding his cup up as if to toast. 

“Hopefully next time there won’t be a Karen,” you joked. Akaashi laughed and you felt the slight eruption of butterflies in your stomach as you watched him leave. Akaashi. You were definitely going to remember that name.

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