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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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kenposting · 9 months

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Kenposting Masterlist <3

i have ryan gosling brainrot so bad..

°.✩┈┈ ┈┈ ∘*┈୨୧┈*∘┈┈ ┈┈ ✩.°

Ken (Barbie, 2023):

He’s Just Ken ⋆˚✿˖° 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.

New Guy ⋆˚✿˖° 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.

New Guy Part 2 ⋆˚✿˖° Ken invites you over for dinner at his house - something you were greatly looking forward to! Until you noticed something was on his mind.

Every Night is Ghoul's Night⋆˚✿˖° Ken leads the way to the Real World to join Barbie for a new holiday he doesn't quite understand. Once he arrives, he learns that most things in this place are hard to understand.

Holland March (The Nice Guys, 2016):

You’re Protesting the Air? ⋆˚✿˖° The tension between Holland and his client had been building for weeks. You were proud of yourself for keeping your cool - until Healy left you under the care of his partner.

Officer K (Blade Runner 2049, 2017):

Baseline ⋆˚✿˖° You're a Blade Runner paired to work with Officer K. You both sense a bizarre shift lately. Something is wrong.