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kenposting · 9 months

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He's Just Ken <3

Summary: Ken has always been more than fond of you, and he kept that to himself, like a small thought that didn't mean much. You, unbeknownst to him, of course, felt the same, and he is shocked to learn this.

AN: Erm I grew up writing on Tumblr but then I graduated and got a job and got married and very quickly divorced (I'm literally only 21 and he slept with someone else lol) and I figured I might as well start again so I am sorry of this is ridiculous but I just think Ken is the sweetest and he would never treat anyone like that! Damn. PS: Khosh if you saw this, no you didn't.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The sky got darker every night, and for some odd reason, it really, really frightened you. You weren’t sure if any of the other Barbies felt the same. Did anyone else make sure to hurry home before the light started dimming? Sure, you could ask about it, but what if this was a malfunction? What if they sent you to see Weird Barbie?

You supposed that wouldn’t be so bad… unless they sent you to her alone… at nighttime.

With a humph you washed the thought away and roller skated a little faster. With panicked glances behind you up at the sky, you missed what was right in front of you and bumped into something. Hard.

All you heard was a yelp mixed with your own sound of surprise before hitting the ground. You blinked a few times before opening your eyes all the way. Again, you saw night fast approaching, but in the foreground was Ken.

“Oh, hey Ken!”

“Hey, Barbie!”

“That hurt.”

His skin glistened above you and you wished so bad that he wasn’t there to see you right now. How embarrassing… You really were good at skating too, but now he’ll never know that. You were quick to ask Ken if he was hurt as well, but he’s much larger than you and remained that it wasn’t more than a gentle bump. His yelp was one more of surprise and worry than anything.

One pink-opened-face ambulance visit later and you were on your way. Although, now… it was nighttime and everywhere you looked was shaded a deep blue.

Ken picked up on your uncomfort quickly, brows furrowing at the way you almost folded into yourself.

“Are you okay, Barbie? You’re usually so good at skating, I was surprised to see you fall.”

You jumped a little, forgetting he was there, your breath catching in your throat. Wait, he thought you were good at skating?

“Sorry, Ken. I’m fine! Just…” you remembered the possibility of this being a malfunction and decided not to mention it. “Just a little dazed from the fall. Do you remember which way my Dreamhouse was?”

Ken thought very hard. He looked as if there were actual wheels turning in his head. You worried he would hurt himself.

“Of course I do, I just hope you’re okay. I’m trying to think if I’ve ever met anyone that had forgotten where they lived. Maybe this requires visiting Weird–”

“No!” A silence fell between the two of you. “No, I’m okay. I just… wanted an excuse to ask you to walk me home.”

You had never seen Ken’s face that shade of pink before. Yes, you were afraid of the dark, but there was a very real underlying truth to your statement. You were always close with Stereotypical Barbie and had heard many times her griefs about Ken and the ways he liked her, and it sort of perplexed you. You got that she just didn’t feel the same, and it was sweet how he couldn’t pick up on that, but gosh… so many times you had found yourself wishing to be her, just for a day. After everything went down between the two of them, you saw a huge change in him. He was lighter, more sure of himself. You had even mentioned to the Barbies at a few girls nights how you felt very differently about him than Stereotypical barbie did, followed by squeals and encouragements to go after him. You couldn’t decide, though, which was scarier: nighttime or speaking to Ken.

Ken stammered over his response before settling on a simple “Sure,” lifting out a bent arm for you to hold on to. You still had your rollerskates on, of course, because you didn’t bring any change of shoes. Duh.

He slipped on his rollerblades too so you’d feel more comfortable, reassuring you he suddenly just felt like skating too. He thought it was cute that you couldn’t rollerblade yet and still used standard skates instead. You let him lead the way, the two of you gliding gently across the pink pavement. It was quiet at nighttime, and although that frightened you, something about this was different. Peaceful.

You noticed Ken intentionally making some wrong turns. Maybe he also enjoyed spending extra time with you. Another humph to clear the thought from your head and, before you knew it, you stood outside of your home.

Ken looked down at the ground, unsure of what to do or say now. He had also been searching (for weeks now, maybe months) for an excuse to walk you home. Never did he think that would happen, let alone the desire ever be reciprocated, even in the slightest. He started minimizing the whole thing in his head, reminding himself that it would be ridiculous if you thought of him in a way that was anything more than just friends, plus, you just fell down, you probably didn’t want to walk alone in case you fell again, and–

“Ken?”

He had truthfully forgot you were even there.

“Oh, sorry, Barbie. I’ll walk you to your door.”

Something came over you and you panicked again. What if this was your only chance to tell him you liked him? I mean, how much longer could this go on? The skates made you much taller than you typically stood. Unfortunately, so did his, and you were still much smaller than him. You resorted to standing on the toe-stoppers to gain a little height, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Thanks, Ken."

He looked like he was about to barf, but in a really good way, if that makes sense. His mouth fell open and his cheeks darkened again. He wanted to say something – so much, he wanted to say so much, but he just… couldn’t. He just stared at you, frozen in place.

You couldn’t believe you just did that. A thought crossed your mind, and at first it was sort of funny, but then very sad.

“Hey Ken, where do you sleep? All of you, actually, where do the Kens sleep?”

He still just looked at you, lips still parted. After blinking a few times, he looked around, almost searching for an answer littered on the ground somewhere. “Beach.”

He laughed at himself. “Sorry, the beach. We just hang out at the beach.”

“The beach? But its so dark out there…”

His head tilted to the side a little. “It’s always dark at nighttime. You don’t like it? I find it kind of nice, actually.”

You sheepishly shook your head. “It really scares me. For whatever reason... I always make sure I’m home before the sun goes down.”

“So that’s why you’re never at any of Barbie’s parties?”

You looked up at him and noticed your lipstick marked on his rosy cheek.

“You noticed I'm never there?”

“Of course I noticed. You’re the only reason I ever go.”

He blushed after letting that slip.

“And, it’s also fun, I guess.”

You felt your cheeks start to heat up, but that’s nothing new. You always felt like this when you’re around him.

“Anyways…” He smiled at himself. “You should come. I can walk you home every time so it won’t be scary.”

Something bubbled up inside you and you literally and physically couldn’t take it anymore. You stood up tall to kiss him again, but this time he noticed, and you stilled in his gaze.

“I…” Why was this so hard? You had daydreamed for ages about what to say to him if you ever gained the courage to speak up, and now that you finally can, it seemed impossible.

“Do you want to some inside?” That wasn’t right. “I mean, I want you to come inside. Do you also want to come inside?”

He looked at you so lovingly and let out a gentle laugh. He liked you so much, he didn’t even process what you had asked. Wait. Come inside? You wanted him to come inside? Like boyfriend girlfriend?? His eyes widened.

“Why?”

You stilled at his response. You just wanted to cry. He was right, why? Why would you ask such a dumb question? He would never like you that way, and you felt silly for assuming he would.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I’ll see you later, Ken–”

“No!” He startled himself at the outburst. “Sorry, I meant… Why me? Do you… Do you like me?”

You were relieved at his explanation, but he wasn’t exactly making it easy for you.

“Well… yeah. That’s why I’m asking you to come inside.”

It was like fireworks went off in his brain. Your words banged around inside his head so loud he couldn’t think of anything else. You liked him? You did just say yes, didn’t you? Did he make that up?

“Oh well I also like you too as well a lot very much.”

What? Literally what. What was that. He cringed at himself a little. He had also been dreaming of what he’d say to you, and this was definitely not it.

You giggled at him. He was just so sweet, and so so nervous. Both of you were. You took his hand and lead him towards your home.

Inside he just stood there, unsure of what to do. It was like if he moved he’d somehow ruin everything. You noticed he was like that a lot, actually. It made you kind of sad.

He had liked your friend so much before, and even though that was years ago, it seemed to still really impact him. You realized it wasn’t about her, it was about him. It had changed the way he saw himself. Her not liking him back got twisted up in his mind somehow and he had taken it to believe that no one liked him. He felt silly for thinking she ever would, that anyone ever would. It became part of his own perception of the world around him, that he was some sort of nuisance or a bother.

You sat on your couch and he helped you unlace your skates. His hands were stong and gentle, and with your skates off, he was now much taller than you. You stook directly at eye level to his chest. His shape was so defined. Gosh, why did Mattel build him that way?

Blinking the nerves away, you made your way to the kitchen. Bless his heart, honestly. He has no idea how good he looks, right now or ever. This was also silly at first, but now that you thought about it, it was sort of sad. Why didn’t he know? What does he think of himself? He’s always so dismissive of compliments, even from other Kens. Of course he asked why when you invited him in, he can’t comprehend being worthy of something like that. Sure, you had moments of being insecure as well, but this felt different, deeper.

You glanced up to see him still sat on your couch. He was fidgeting with his hands and looking around. He looked like he felt uncomfortable; like he was somehow gravely out of place and believed he had overstayed his welcome.

There was an ache in you at seeing him like that. As soon as you walked into the room, he perked up and smiled, thanking you for the glass of water – but you noticed his hands were shaking as he sipped it.

“Ken, are you okay? I understand if you don’t want to stay over.”

He nearly choked on the drink. “Stay over!? I thought you just wanted me to stop by, like, out of courtesy.”

You smiled warmly at him and something … changed. He felt something shift inside of him, like he could feel that your smile was genuine and real and more than a courtesy. You looked at him the way he looked at everyone else.

“No, Ken. I…” How do you say this?

“I do like you, and if I wasn’t so shy, I’d tell you all about it. I love spending time with you. You just look very handsome and its making me a little nervous.”

You heard a slight gasp from him. He had been waiting his whole life to feel liked or wanted or invited or worthy or important or… well, handsome. And to hear it from you? It was just too much. He teared up a little, something a lot less foreign to everyone since traveling to the Real World. He liked crying, actually. He just didn’t know why it happened so much. Was he just weaker than the other Kens?

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” He sniffled out an apology, standing up to leave. It must've been a real mood-killer and the last thing he wanted to do was bum you out.

You stood too, taking ahold of his hand. He looked down at you and saw you were also tearing up.

“Ken, you’ve got to believe me.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t. He just stepped toward you and held onto you.

The two of you cried – and the two of you apologized for it at the same time, your tears quickly evolving into giggles. The more you both tried to apologize for being a bummer the more you’d speak over one another and it really was very silly.

He was blushing now, and he looked much more confident. He’s never met anyone that also feels so out of place. He felt comfortable around you, like he didn’t need to worry if he was bothering you. And to think you felt like you weren't worthy of him liking you? That was ridiculous, and very confusing for him, but it mad him feel differently. If he felt it was silly for you to feel unlikeable, wouldn't that mean he was silly for feeling that way too?

“Its okay, Ken, really. I like you, right now. You don’t have to do anything else.”

And he’d never forgotten that. Everyday he was excited to exist for the first time in a long time. The already pink landscape of Barbieland seemed so much brighter now, and day after day he had a spring in his step.

Months went by of him being encouraged by you, invited by you, seen by you -- he truly did like like you and he had no idea what to do about it, but he figured everyday he’d try his best to show you.

Today was exactly six months since you biffed it on your skates. He still felt bad for knocking you over, but he was glad it happened.

He breathed a shaky breath before knocking on your door. He was still always so nervous to see you, but in a good way.

You opened it to be greeted by Ken in literally a tuxedo, and you immediately felt bad after letting out a laugh. He just beamed and laughed with you, striking a pose. So cool.

“I know, its a lot. But I look good, don’t I?”

You smiled up at him and shook your head.

“Ken, you always look good. What is going on?”

He handed you a bouquet of daisies (that matched his boutonniere, of course) and a shimmery white gift box.

Shocked and confused barely scratched the surface. What was he planning? Sure, every time he saw you he brought you a gift, but it was usually something small and genuine, like a rock that ‘reminded him of you’ or something he noticed you eyeing on your last date.

He shrugged it all off as if he wasn't dressed for some important extravagant black tie event.

“I wanted to take you out and I wanted it to be special. Thought it would be nice for a change.”

You felt like crying again. All the Barbies and Kens teased the two of you for being sensitive, but you really did enjoy the vulnerability the two of you shared. I mean, how sweet is he? Could he get any sweeter?

The gift box held a blush pink gown, which, of course, made you cry for real this time.

The two of you looked very lovely together. You both giggled the entire duration of the very long and uphill car ride, Ken giving you secret directions to the spot he picked because he cannot drive (LOL).

You turned the corner to see a very small and intimate restaurant. It was encased at the edge of the mountain, overlooking the sea.

Now both of you were crying (and laughing at each other because the other was crying). He took your hand and lead you to a small candlelit table.

“Ken, what is going on? This is all so beautiful.”

He looked down and smiled, shrugging, before straightening himself up and clearing his throat. You presume he was attempting to build confidence, and it worked for a moment, but he very quickly returned to appearing very nervous.

“Six months ago you absolutely ate it on the pavement and I’m really glad you did.”

He was not off to a great start, but you found it charming.

“Not that I was glad you got hurt… Sorry, hold on.”

He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of pink paper.

“You wrote this down?”

“Hey, you’re ruining it!” He laughed at himself, feeling a little silly and overly serious.

“Anyways…” He tossed the paper, opting for improvising the rest of what he wnated to tell you.

“I’m glad you suck at rollerskating because that means I get to hold your hand and guide you. I’m glad I can’t drive because it gives me an excuse to ask you to take me everywhere. I’m glad the nighttime freaks you out because I get to swoop in and save you from it. I’m glad you cry all the time because I do too and I’m glad I do because it probably makes you feel better about it, just like you make me feel better about it.”

He was right, and his words had you crying already.

“I hope you never get better at rollerskating or not crying or being scared of the dark, and I surely hope I never learn how to drive, but even if all of that did happen, I promise I would make up another excuse to be with you. That night you told me you were also looking for an excuse to be with me when you, again, absolutely spilled on your skates, and for the first time I felt like I meant something to someone. And to you.” He sighed at the thought of it. “I can’t believe it was you. I wish I had words to sum up the amount of time I had been running through what I’d say to you if I only could, and I still choked on it, just like now. Everyday it’s like I can’t breathe when you’re not around. I mean, all the Kens hate me because I can’t shut up about you.”

The two of you laughed again, and you saw he was tearing up now too.

“I like you Barbie.” His blush deepened. “No, I love you, Barbie. And I wanted to take you here to try and make you feel even a fraction of how you make me feel. Special, and important. And handsome.”

“Ken…” He did look so handsome in the lighting, and the lull of the other guest’s conversations washed over the two of you. You realized the nighttime wasn’t so scary when Ken was around.

“Ken, I love you too.” You response was rushed, like you couldn’t help the words from just spilling out.

“I’ve always liked you, for years, you can ask the other Barbies. I don’t have the words either, but I promise I thought of you just as much, if not more. I still think of you. I’m thinking of you now and you’re in front of me.”

He giggled at you and felt the familiar warmth of being truly appreciated.

“I just wish there was some way to show you.”

His eyes looked up at you. He felt the same way you did. He also noticed sometimes you couldn’t believe he liked you either. It was a funny situation, the two of you both feeling flattered in the other’s gaze.

“Then show me.”

You couldn’t make it home fast enough. You fumbled with the door of the Dreamhouse before leading him inside. His hands were shaking again, but not from insecurity or fear this time.

He was so gentle as he touched you, grazing his hands over your arms, almost like he was seeking permission.

“Yes, its okay.”

His breath was shaky, as was yours, and every gesture was laced with respect and admiration. He was slow and attentive to your reactions. You stood tall to kiss him, but you couldn’t make it. He smiled at you before leaning down to help you close the gap, choosing to still let you kiss him instead of the other way around.

Sure, the two of you had kissed lots of times, but always very quickly. Both of you were head over heels for the other and the thought of anything more made your ears heat up. You slowly leaned forward, pressing your lips against his. He placed a gentle hand on the small of your back, guiding the two of you.

You sat on your couch like you both had hundreds of times. What was so different now? It felt personal, like you both knew he wasn’t over to just hang out this time.

“Is this okay?”

His blue eyes were just enchanting. Everything about him, actually, like all he was programmed for was making you laugh and ensuring you were always comfortable.

You nodded, asking him the same.

He smiled at you.

“Yeah, more than okay. I just want you to feel safe.”

You just wanted to scream. He was so sweet and kind and handsome and tall and silly and smart. It was just ridiculous.

“Ken.”

You began, looking very serious. He thought it was very cute.

“You said you loved me and I love you too.”

He nodded, wondering where you were going with this.

“That means we’re girlfriend boyfriend.”

He felt a little dizzy hearing you say that, like he’d imagined it so many times before, and he hadn’t really thought about it in a while.

“And I think I want to do what girlfriends boyfriends do.”

He smiled at you. You looked so sweet.

“And what is it that they do?”

You hadn’t really thought that far yet.

“I’m actually not sure.”

He knew what that felt like. When he went to the Real World with Stereotypical Barbie, he learned all about what people do when they’re girlfriend boyfriend, and a lot of it was sad and felt very mean to the girlfriends. He did remember, though, a lot of movies and books he’d read about the nice and sweet parts of it though.

“I know a little bit about it, but I’m not sure if you’d like it.”

He wasn’t teasing you at all, and you knew that. He leaned forward and whispered, too shy to speak about those things too loudly.

Your eyes widened. This all sounded absurd, but you couldn’t help but notice a warmth spreading throughout yourself. For some reason you wanted to kiss him more than you ever had.

“Of course, I’ve never done any of it before. But I guess there’s a first time for everything, and it seems like most people in the Real World take it very seriously.”

Your brows furrowed at this and you sat up straight, taking it very seriously.

He couldn’t help but laugh at you. You were just glowing, sat there in your gown he picked out for you. It was an honor to see you always, but now felt even more special. He couldn’t believe you were thinking about him. It was very sweet, but he also felt a warmth spreading within himself, one he didn’t recognize, and he also wanted to kiss you.

The two of you sat in this feeling for what felt like hours. You felt like you were on fire under his gaze, and he felt the same way.

“Ken, can I kiss–”

He didn’t let you finish.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

More Ken stories here <3

#ken #kenergy #just ken #ken x reader #ken barbie movie #<3

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kenposting · 9 months

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New Guy

Summary: Short & sweet; Ken is the new guy at your work - somewhere he keeps calling the ‘real world’. You don’t get that, but what’s new, he never really makes any sense.

WC: 2.2k

AN: (Insert crying emoji) thank you for all the kind comments on the last Ken brainrot story I wrote omg!!! I just like him... did nawt expect all that. A small part of this was very loosely inspired after reading a blurb by @ideas-live-forever where Ken doesn’t like a latte. Its very cute and you can read it here!

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀⋆˚✿˖°⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You wished you had words to describe him, really. I mean, how many times could you redirect the conversation away from the two of you? Your friends, roomates, classmates, even your family – they all picked up on your recent busy schedule. You were seeing someone, and that someone came off as incredibly alluring and mysterious to them after your hesitance in explaining.

Ken was not alluring, let alone mysterious. Bless his heart, he was a bit dense actually. You didn’t want to tell people about him - not out of embarrassment, but out of protection for him. This world was a lot different from the one he claimed to be from… another piece of him you didn’t quite understand. You chalked it up to at best a joke or some weird pick up line (him saying he was from “out of this world”) and at worst an actual delusion, but you didn’t mind it. You found it kind of charming.

You still remember when you first heard about him. There was a new guy at work and your coworkers were laughing about some of the answers he gave on his job interview. You felt a little bad, knowing his answers should’ve been kept confidential, but you couldn’t help but laugh when you overheard them.

“No, yeah he literally said his last job was ‘beach’. Not lifeguard, not pool attendant, not national park ranger, not even the beach, just beach.”

You laughed a little to yourself, finishing wiping down one of the tables. You had a morning shift today, like most days, but you wouldn't be open for a little while. You had time to listen.

“I don’t know, man. At least he can wash a mean dish.”

They weren’t laughing with him, but rather at him. It did make you a bit sad. He sounded hilarious, honestly. It was probably just a bit that he took too seriously. After all, a job interview isn’t always the best place to joke around like that.

A metallic ding rang through the restaurant as the door swung open. You looked up to be met with quite the character. He was tall, probably around 6’3” or 6’4”, and tan. Must've been all that time at beach. His stature was broad and his shoulders barely fit through the doorframe. He was dressed in the same uniform you were, except his yellow diner ringer tee was tucked in to a pair of light blue cuffed jeans, paired with white tennis sneakers and white crew socks. He was blonde, clearly by choice, not birth, and he stood with a clean dishtowel draped over his left shoulder. He looked like he just stepped out of an 80’s back-to-school Target ad.

“Morning, Ken.”

“Morning! Thank you for the opportunity to work here! So cool…”

You smiled to yourself, grabbing menus to set out on each table. He looked just as odd as he everyone made him out to be.

Prep duty was your given task for this morning. Since you typically worked an opening shift before school, you only had to wait tables until 2pm. Doors didn’t open until 9am, so that left you three hours to cut vegetables and fruit while you supervised the new guy.

“Hey, my office please.”

Your boss beckoned you, explaining what Ken’s tasks were so you could keep an eye on him.

“He’ll probably keep to himself, honestly. He seems nervous, but he’s glad to work here. I don’t really… get him.”

“What do you mean, sir?”

You boss sighed and shook his head, searching for a way to explain everything.

“When I asked him about previous employment he just said he worked at ‘beach’ and that he was 'very good at it'. His references were all listed under the name name… his name. Ken. I kept asking if he was, like, a lifeguard or something and why everyone he’s worked for was also named Ken. He just kept repeating, ‘no, sir, just beach,’ and ‘I’m not sure I understand, sir, is your name not Ken too?’ like that made any sense.”

Air quotes punctuated the absurdity of the whole thing.

You bit the inside of your lip, stifling a laugh. This guy was wither a genius or actually insane.

“Anyways…” he trailed off. “He didn’t have much more to say about work, but he said he was in town to study – of course, without any documentation. I guess you don’t need a diploma to wash dishes.”

Ken did keep to himself mostly, but you could tell he took his job incredibly seriously. His brows furrowed while washing the plates from last night’s dinner rush. He wanted to be good at this, you could tell. You wondered if he took beach the same way, like his life depended on it.

The day went by quickly. All the girls – and Ken – got off at the same time, switching aprons as the evening crew trickled in.

“Wanna come to the bar with us tonight? It’s half-price on Tuesdays!”

You smiled at the offer, but respectfully declined.

“I’ve got homework, but maybe next time!”

They sighed, saying you were no fun, waving to you as they all left together. You stayed behind to count and divide the tips. So did Ken, for some reason.

“You can go home whenever you’re ready, Ken. Good job today.”

You pretended not to notice his ears perk at your compliment. He was blushing, like… actually blushing.

“Oh, thank you.”

He sounded surprised, like he hadn’t ever been told he did well before.

“What are you doing now?”

You looked up at him. He was actually quite handsome up close. You both had your backs turned to each other most of the day so you didn’t get a chance to notice.

His eagerness to learn was also attractive. He wasn’t handsy or gross or trying to hit on you like some of the previous employees you’ve worked with. He was kind and appeared genuine.

“I’m counting the tip jar from this morning so I can divide the tips between all the morning waitresses. Each of them get their own tips on the bills or in cash, but the ones in the jar are kind of random, so we split all of those. We count morning separately so whatever the evening crew makes can be divided amongst themselves, in case they were busier or slower than us. Its fair that way. You get some too.”

He looked like you just told him his childhood home caught fire. He was just bewildered at the concept.

“I get some? But I already got paid for today, they said I’d get it on my 'check' in two weeks.”

He did not know what a check was. You smiled to yourself, still deciding on wether he was being smart with you or if he was just inexperienced in the world.

“Yeah, see? 20, 40, 60, 80, 100 in 20s, then 110, 120, 130, 140 in 10s. I already counted the fives – 145, 150, 155, 160, 165, 170, 175, 180, 185 there – and ones, so 186, 7, 8 ,9, 90, 91, 2, 3, 4 ,5, 6, 7, so that’s 197, divided by the staff is $32.83 each.”

He did not get it at all. He nodded hesitantly, hoping to convince you he understood you just fine. You were explaining it like he should know this, afterall, and he felt kind of insecure that he didn’t get it. You didn’t mean to hurt his feelings and he knew that, but he was just more sensitive than most.

“So I take it you didn’t make any tips at ‘beach’?”

He shook his head, answering with complete seriousness.

“No. We didn’t have money at all, actually.”

He was always like that. It had been a couple of months now since he started with you. Every day he said something weirder than the day before. Just like today, when he asked if you were doing anything after work. You said homework, as per usual, and watched him panic, replying with, “Oh yeah... me too actually…”

“Yeah? You’re in school?”

He nodded, another serious look on his face. He had forgotten about homework for a while now. They didn’t have homework in Barbieland.

The thought alone of this man in a classroom was enough to have you laughing. Sure, he was smart and charming and handsome and good at his job and personable and kind and… lots of other things you didn’t want to admit, but he didn’t strike you as someone that would thrive in an academic environment.

You took him out for drinks that afternoon. It was a small cafe that also served daydrinks, like mimosas or sangrias. It was a comfortable and safe environment, which was welcome, as today’s assignment was complicated even for you. Who knows why you took organic chemistry as your major. You hated chemistry. Everyone hated chemistry.

You felt him watching you attentively, like he was checking if you might’ve needed anything.

“What’s your homework on?”

He was gentle in his approach. He liked you.

You looked at him. He truly wanted to know, it wasn’t just small talk.

You explained it as best at you could, truly, but he looked like he was about to cry, like it physically hurt his brain. Changing the subject, you asked what he was studying.

“I’m majoring in Patriarchy and minoring in Horses and Beach.”

You didn’t ask more. He was dead serious, too. He really was highlighitng and placing index notes on a book about horses. Stacked in his (pale yellow) backpack (with tiny embroidered flowers) were heavy textbooks, though, so he must've been studying something. Maybe this was part of the joke. After looking over his course catalogue to help him figure out assignment priority based on credit weights, you saw he was majoring in Gender Studies and minoring in Equine Science and Marine Biology. So yes, patriarchy, horses, and beach.

The waitress stopped by your table and he panicked again, ordering the same thing as you. A little while later, two Espresso Martinis arrived. You sipped the drink casually, focused on your assignment.

He didn’t mind it when you weren’t focused on him. He enjoyed your company, even in the quiet. He never felt like you were laughing at him. It was more like you found him funny, but in a nice way. He liked that about you. He liked all of you, actually.

“Oh, wow!”

He had a sort of outburst that startled you from whatever it was you were reading. You couldn’t remember actually, the look on his face made you forget what you had just read.

“Oh my gosh, that is terrible!!”

He spoke in an elevated whisper, careful to not offend the workers.

“Why does it hurt, is something wrong with it??”

You covered your mouth to keep from laughing at him. He looked truly horrified.

“Have you never had anything with alcohol in it before? I thought you were, like, what, 24? 25? Aren’t you in college?”

“I don’t even have an age – wow, I’m so sorry, that is so bad.”

He was so weird. So so weird. But you really liked that about him actually. He was sweet about everything and very kind and thoughtful, too.

He clearly hated his drink but finished it anyway, probably out of courtesy. His face crumpled a bit every time he had to wash a dish that had a lot of food leftover. It was like he felt great sorrow for the chef – that their work wasn’t good enough for the customer, and they tried really hard, so that made him sad.

Oddly enough, he put a $20 in the tip jar on the way out, shrugging when you asked him about it. He said sure, he didn’t like it, but that wasn’t anyone’s fault. He was grateful they ‘took good care of him’. He was just repeating what he’d heard other diner guests say when they tipped. He was so cute.

You walked him home. He insisted on the other way around, but he was tipsy and didn’t really know what to do about it, hiccupping and catching his balance. He wasn’t frightened or anything, reassuring you he’d ‘seen this in the movies before’. You assumed he was referring to knowing what it’s like to be inebriated. Still, all this after only one drink, and a stereotypically girly one at that.

“Thank you for walking me home and helping me with homework and letting me hang out with you today!”

You smiled, nodding your head.

“Sure, Ken. Do you work tomorrow?”

He nodded excitedly, standing in a salute-like pose.

“Sure do! I’m gonna wash the hell out of some dishes.”

Cursing, although incredibly light for him, was something he told you he was learning to do since he was now ‘in the real world’. You didn't understand that, like most things about him, but you were excited to see him tomorrow nonetheless.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀⋆˚✿˖°⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

For more Kenpostings I’ve written, click here.

For part two, click here!

#ken #kenergy #ryan gosling #what kenergy is this #just ken #ken x reader #ken barbie movie #<3

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