Kan anyone love Ken

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/49629862.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: M/M
Fandom: Barbie (Movie 2023)
Relationship: Ryan Gosling's Ken/Simu Liu's Ken (Barbie 2023)
Character: Alexandra Shipp's Barbie (Barbie 2023), Kate McKinnon's Barbie
(Barbie 2023), Emma Mackey's Barbie (Barbie 2023), Sugar's Daddy
Ken (Barbie 2023), Earring Ken (Barbie 2023), Ryan Gosling's Ken
(Barbie 2023), Simu Liu's Ken (Barbie 2023)
Additional Tags: Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Self-
Esteem Issues, Self Confidence Issues, Angst with a Happy Ending,
Angst, Bad Dreams, Kissing, Boys Kissing, Pining
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-08-26 Words: 12,252 Chapters: 12/12

Kan anyone love Ken

by CharlieMarr

Summary

Since Barbie left and openly told everyone she didn't love Ken, Stereotypical Ken has been
having bad dreams and bad thoughts.

Pompadour Ken is worried about Stereotypical Ken because...he loves him (what?!)

*Involves mentions of self-harm, self-hatred and suicide attempts.

Notes

Chaptered Fic
Hope you Enjoy.
If you ever feel like this know there are people out there who can help you, it only takes
one conversation

Mattel do not sue me i own none of these characters.

 Chapter 1

“I don’t, I don’t love Ken.”

The CEO of Mattel looked at his wits end. He had come to Barbieland to fix things and was instead
being told what to do and what the Barbies and Kens (and Alan, and Midge) wanted and how they
felt. He looked as though he didn’t care and would do nothing about their feelings.

The CEO of Mattel looked around in a circle, searching for anyone to back him up. Instead, all he
was met with were faces of resolve, the dolls had spoken, and no-one was going to be who they
didn’t want to be.

Finally, his eyes fell upon Ken. Just Ken. Just Stereotypical Ken, Barbie’s supposed other half. All
emotion seemed to drain from his face in an anger filled sigh upon looking at Ken.

“Well of course you don’t, who could ever love him.”

Wait what.

“I mean really, we should never have created him. Every other Ken is perfect compared to him.
But he…well…he’s just a waste of plastic.”

That’s not right. This isn’t what happened.

The Barbies and Kens had somehow formed a circle around Stereotypical Ken. One after the other
all emotion was drained from their faces, leaving only anger or disgust in its wake.

“You brainwashed all of us.”

“You tricked us.”

“Barbie never loved you.”

“No one loves you.”

No. No that’s not true. There are people. People who care about me.

But as he spun around, everyone Stereotypical Ken thought to name were all looking at him with
hatred. They all despised him. No one was standing up for him as insult after slur after disgusting
remark were thrown his way.

“You lied to us.”

“You’re not special.”

“You are nothing without Barbie.”

“You’re nothing in general.”

Laughing. Laughter. They were all mocking him.

One Ken stepped forward. Pompadour Ken. The only Ken who had ever been mean to him before
this. His rival. He stood before him now. He was only slightly taller than Stereotypical Ken. At
least he was supposed to be. But he looked like he was growing. Like a lot. His face became a
shadow as he began to tower over Stereotypical Ken.

He wanted to move, run, or at the very least turn away. But he couldn’t, he was stuck. It was like
he was frozen and forced to watch as Pompadour Ken became a massive, distorted figure, looming
over him with such menace.

“Why are you still here Ken.”

His voice had also been distorted. It was like nothing Stereotypical Ken had heard before. It was
like all the evil of the world had just spoken to him.

“If I were you man…I. Would. Just…DIE!”

As the last word was said the creature rushed him. Pushing him to the ground as its enormous
body looked down on his pathetic form.

Except, it wasn’t Pompadour Ken’s body anymore.

It was Stereotypical Barbie’s. Back to her normal height, leaning over his panicked form. Looking
down on him with a smile that could only be described to Stereotypical Ken as wicked.

“You…are worthless.”

And with that, they all disappeared. The Dream Houses, the cul-de-sac, everyone. Ken was alone
in what felt like an endless void.

The only thing left for him to hear was a singular word.

Worthless.

He was a worthless doll. Unneeded. Unloved. He didn’t belong anywhere. And if he did, he
wasn’t wanted there.

These thoughts were like a ringing in his ears as the darkness swallowed what was left of him, a
mere husk of a man, into the abyss. A place he knew he deserved to be.

------------------------------------------------------------------

A single tear rolled down Stereotypical Ken’s cheek as he lifted his head from his pillow.

When he had first started getting these dreams, he would wake up screaming scared, or crying,
much to the surprise and fear of his neighbors. But now. After two weeks. He had become used to
them. He knew what happened in them was not real, that his body would be unharmed when he
awoke.

But Stereotypical Ken didn’t care about how they made him feel physically.

It was what they were doing to his head. He could barely look at the other Barbies or Kens now
without thinking that they hated him, or they were going to hit him. What was worse was he didn’t
care if they did. He deserved it. They had every right to hurt him, beat him, hate him. He had
ruined everything here and didn’t deserve any forgiveness.

Looking around Stereotypical Ken could see it was at least an hour before sunrise. This was when
he liked to walk around. There was no chance anyone would see him, no chance anyone would talk
to him, and therefore no chance for anyone to tell him how truly horrible he knew he was.

Rising from his bed, a cold sweat still clinging to his muscles, Stereotypical Ken re-adorned the
same sweater he had been wearing all week and went to get the shoes from the ledge that created
the non-existent 4th wall of his bedroom.

Stereotypical Ken paused. It was from this ledge he could see the rest of the Barbies and Kens,
sleeping in their beds, now getting up whenever they pleased, all looking happy, peaceful, and so…
human.

I nearly ruined this for everyone.

Still standing at the ledge, Stereotypical Ken looked down at the steep drop. Rethinking the words
of his dream.

Would anyone really miss me?... Would anyone really care?... Why am I still here?

……It wasn’t big enough. He had seen Barbie, now known as Barbra, fall from this height while
she was ‘malfunctioning’. He knew it could do no real damage to him. Besides…. he had already
tried it.

With that, Stereotypical Ken slipped on his shoes and made his way down the stairs to the street.
Time for his walk.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NOW COMING TO A STORE NEAR YOU. WE ALL LOVED DEPRESSED BARBIE. WELL, GET
READY FOR DEPRESSED KEN. HE HAS NO-ONE. LOST THE WOMAN HE LOVES. LIVES
ALONE AND GOES FOR LONG WALKS IN THE EARLY MORNING. BRUSH HIS OILY HAIR
AS HE PUTS ON THE SAME SWEATER HE HAS WORN SINCE SHE LEFT. WATCH
DEPRESSING DOCUMENTARIES ON HORSES AS YOU SECRETLY BECOME A CONCERN
FOR YOUR NEIGHBOURS AND LOVED ONES. *warning: toy sold separately. suicide attempts,
letters, will to live, and friends all sold separately.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 Chapter 2

A lot has changed in Barbieland these last two weeks. After Barbra left, more Barbies and Kens
chose to go to the real-world, much to the disappointment of Mattel. Of course, they had to first go
through an induction course hosted by Ruth, Gloria, Barbra, and Weird-Barbie (who had chosen to
keep that name because she is “owning it”). After the course, if the former dolls still wanted to go,
they were able to now do so. Allan was actually the first to leave, Stereotypical Ken wondered
how he was.

However, most dolls had chosen to stay in the new Barbieland.

Stereotypical Ken was one of those dolls. His experience in the real-world had been…good. But it
had also made him into something he was uncomfortable thinking about. He started a war with his
friends. Thought less of other people. Brainwashed the Barbies. He- Stop it, Ken. You’re not
supposed to think of this stuff on your walks.

More changes included certain Barbies, with the help of weird Barbie, were able to become Kens.
Kens were able to become Barbies. Kens could be with Kens. Barbies could be with Barbies. It
was all pissing off Mattel, but no one cared. Everyone was now free to be themselves.

Also, all the homeless Kens now had a place to stay. Whether it be with their Barbies, where if
either no longer wanted to be with the other they could break up, they were no longer to be forced
into relationships they didn’t want; or the Kenplex.

The Kenplex was a tall apartment building built purely for the Kens next to the Beach. At first,
Mayor Barbie had offered each of the Kens their own dream house. But after living together,
huddling with each other on the Beach for so long, the homeless Kens unanimously decided they
still wanted some form of that. Therefore, the Kenplex. Stereotypical Ken had been offered a room
there but had turned it down. He lived in Barbra’s Dreamhouse now, not his. Never his. And it was
nice. He enjoyed living in the very place Barbra had broken his heart repeatedly before finally
choosing to demolish it and leave him. It was perfectly healthy for him to live there.

Stereotypical Ken was in fact at this moment, walking past the Kenplex. It was tall, with too many
stories for Stereotypical Ken to properly count. Besides the Executive-Pink-House-Mansion, it was
the tallest building in Barbieland. The tallest… most accessible…easy to get to building in
Barbieland. With an elevator and staircase any doll could access if they wanted…

As he had done every walk, for the last week, Stereotypical Ken paused his walk to look up at the
building.

Who would care…?

Maybe next time.

Just like yesterday, Stereotypical Ken turned away from the building. He wasn’t sure why he had
been having these dreams recently, he hadn’t talked to anyone about all this, and he didn’t know
why they kept bringing him back to thoughts of hurting himself. Thoughts of jumping off tall
buildings. But it just …did.

Maybe I should talk to someone about this. I don’t think it’s natural to want to hurt myself. Not that
I could die even if I did jump. We don’t die. We just get hurt. I’m not… human …enough…

But… was he. Stereotypical Ken had never thought about it this much. Mainly because he started
taking these walks to clear his head of his dreams, and therefore, wasn’t allowed to think about
these things while walking. But, while walking away from the Kenplex, Stereotypical Ken
couldn’t help but look back at the place.

He had been to the human world. He learnt new things. He no longer gets up at normal times or in
normal ways. He can cry and feel bad. He’s had thoughts about death…. Wasn’t that all the stuff
Barbra did before she became human. He knew he wasn’t human though. He didn’t need to eat or
drink. His body hadn’t gone through any changes due to his lack of sleep. Or his lack of eating. His
teeth, hair and really everything, was still perfect. And really, he was just one shower away from
looking normal again. But still… was he malfunctioning. Could he…if he wanted to…that is to
say…would it actually hurt him if-

“Hey Ken, wait up.”

Stereotypical Ken was snapped from his thoughts by the sound of a voice coming towards him. A
voice he knew well. A voice that had only recently tormented him in his dreams.

Pompadour Ken was running his way.

Shit!

Stereotypical Ken could only freeze. He had been beaten, tortured, screamed at, and made cry from
this doll in his dreams. And though he knew they weren’t real; he still couldn’t help but be …
scared.

“Ken, hey man. What-chu doing out here?”

He was being so nice, warm, and kind. This was a complete contrast to what Stereotypical Ken had
grown used to this week, he didn’t know how to feel, or even respond. What was he supposed to
say, ‘I’m going for a walk so early in the morning, so people won’t have to bother looking at me
because I know they all hate me and seeing you is scary because in my dreams last night you told
me to die.’

…Now… Ken was not the smartest doll, …. but even he knew he couldn’t say…that.

“Um yeah…I’m just …going for a walk…to watch the sunrise.”

“Oh, cool man. Do you um…do you want company. Cause I’m pretty awake now, so I cou- “

“No!”

Shit! Shit! Mattel Dammit Shit!

He had yelled at Pompadour Ken. Stereotypical Ken hadn’t meant to, it just sort of …happened.
He went on these walks to get himself away from the thoughts and dreams. Something Pompadour
Ken played a big part in. He wasn’t even going to go see the sunrise! Having Pompadour Ken there
would have just made it all worse. He would have been…scared.
But now Pompadour Ken looked scared. Except he wasn’t. Certain emotions seemed to flutter over
his face. There was fear but it was more upsetting. Softer. …Vulnerable. Stereotypical Ken had
never seen another Ken look…vulnerable before. Then again, he had been avoiding all other
Barbies and Kens since his Patriarchy fell, he didn’t need to be reminded of how much each doll
loathed him. But still, it was weird. It made him feel bad…guilty. Dammit, Pompadour Ken was
ruining his day by not even doing anything. This is why he had to keep the doll away from him.

As quickly as he had been exposed to the inner emotions of the other doll, Pompadour Ken’s face
suddenly became a mask. All emotion, all joy, seemed sapped from his being. Leaving what could
only be described as a… ‘hollow’ face.

Am I still dreaming…

“Look, Ken. Sorry I didn’t mean to…”

Pompadour Ken had taken a step towards Stereotypical Ken while saying this. To any onlooker it
would look like a friendly gesture to close distance, maybe even to embrace the other doll and be
comforting after an outburst that clearly disturbed them both. However, to Stereotypical Ken, it
was a move that meant danger, a movement that meant pain and torment was coming next. A
movement met not only with a retreating step backwards, but also flinch.

Shit. Fuck. Dammit. You can’t do anything right. This isn’t a dream. Stop showing him this.

Stereotypical Ken’s actions had almost instantly brought a halt to whatever Pompadour Ken was
about to say or do. He now looked at Stereotypical Ken, stunned. Shocked. Once again scared…
but more…for…Stereotypical Ken. That was weird. Why did Pompadour Ken look like he cared
about him. If this was an act to hurt him, it seemed a lot crueler than what his rival would usually
do.

Just get out of here…You are doing something wrong and hurting more people…. Leave and go
for your walk.

“Ken…what? …Why would you…I wasn’t going to….”

“Look Ken…I’m sorry but… I have to go. Ok. So, bye.”

Stereotypical Ken turned and ran as he announced this. He couldn’t look at the other Ken. He knew
he had hurt him in some way. And the worst part is he was too scared to properly apologize.
Scared what the other Ken would think of him. Scared of what the other Ken might do…

Coward.

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

Stereotypical Ken could hear Pompadour Ken as he debated running after the other. He had heard
him run a few steps the second he took off, causing Stereotypical Ken to only speed up his gate, a
causational act that had him hearing the other come to a stop far behind him. He knew if he turned
back now, he would still be able to see Pompadour Ken’s face. See how disappointed he was in his
fellow Ken, how grossly he would look at the cowardice before him. So Stereotypical Ken kept
running. Trying desperately in vain to escape both the doll behind him and his growingly hateful
thoughts…for himself.

I’m so fucking worthless.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

DEPRESSION KEN IS SOON TO BE SOLD OUT. WATCH IN AWE AS HE SOON BECOMES.

SUICIDAL KEN. COMING TO A STORE NEAR YOU. GET HIM WHILE HE’S HOT, CAUSE HE
WON’T BE WARM FOR LONG. *warning, Mattel does not condone the acts of suicide. if you or a
loved one are having trouble, please seek the proper help or talk to someone trusted. we are only
doing this because something is really wrong in Barbieland.*

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 Chapter 3

A lot had changed since the fall of Patriarchy for Pompadour Ken.

Actually…that was a lie.

A lot had been changing for him over the past few months.

Writer Barbie. A beautiful Barbie with curly hair and a Nobel prize, stopped…interesting him.

It was weird, and defiantly rude for Pompadour Ken to say this, or even think this. But it was the
truth…his truth. He no longer really cared what the Barbie he was literally made to be with…
thought of him.

If he was being honest with himself, he had stopped caring what any Barbies thought of him.
Which was weird. And definitely not normal. Kens literally lived for Barbies. Their day could only
be good if a Barbie was nice or said hi to them. That was how it goes. How it had always been.

But now…

Most days were now…good…for Pompadour Ken. Whether he saw a Barbie or not. Because he
would still see…Ken.

And not just any Ken…but his rival…Stereotypical Ken.

Despite having a Barbie of his own, Pompadour Ken had always fought with Stereotypical Ken for
Stereotypical Barbie’s, now Barbra’s, affection.

But…

He had never…wanted…Stereotypical Barbie. He had really only done it to get a rise out of
Stereotypical Ken. It gave him some sort of warm, tight feeling in his stomach, and made the latter
make a face that was all scrunched up and…kind of …cute.

All these thoughts of him finding another Ken cute over a Barbie had confused Pompadour Ken…
immensely. And so, he had done what any progressive man doll would do.

He asked for help.

At first, he thought he was malfunctioning, so he had gone to see Weird-Barbie (who was totally
owning that name). He had told her about everything that he was doing and feeling towards
Stereotypical Ken and how it was all wrong, and when he had finished, she actually …laughed at
him.

That had hurt Pompadour Ken…but from the inside.

After apologizing for laughing and saying something about “no social skills from being alone”,
Weird -Barbie had pointed towards two Ken who lived with her. The three of them had then sat
Pompadour Ken down and explained, in detail, what a community called the LGBTQ+ were, what
they were about, and what it meant to have feelings towards another Ken. Weird-Barbie had
stressed a great deal that what he was feeling wasn’t wrong and was in fact normal. The two Kens
then explained their relationship and how it was a normal thing that could occur both in the real
world and Barbieland.
It was all a lot of information for Pompadour Ken. It had taken him time to get his head around it.
But when he did, he felt…good. Liberated in a way. Which of course didn’t make sense. You had
to be trapped in something to then be liberated. But the word felt right.

Weird-Barbie said it would be hard for him, especially because there was obviously a chance that
Stereotypical Ken didn’t feel the same, but she offered to help him take steps to …liberate...himself
further. The two other Kens also offered him things, something about an “open relationship” and a
thing called a “threesome.” Words that confused Pompadour Ken, and caused Weird-Barbie to
cartwheel, literally cartwheel the two Kens out of the room.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Returning to Writer-Barbie’s Dreamhouse after what was a whole day of…weirdness…Pompadour

Ken decided to take his first step.

After greeting a busily typing Barbie in her office, Pompadour Ken, instead of leaving the room to
let her work in peace, chose instead to close the door, and ask Barbie to talk.

This, as thought, slightly startled Writer-Barbie. Pompadour Ken usually never disturbed her while
she was working, not after she had told him how important it was. It was only ever briefly to say hi,
or say he was going to their shared bedroom that Writer-Barbie never really used. She had had
Carpenter-Barbie put a bed in her office so she could get up and work whenever creativity hit her,
without having to take extra steps up and down from the bedroom and risk losing her ideas.
Pompadour Ken, now fully intent on disrupting her process understandably had Writer-Barbie a
little stunned.

Closing her laptop, Writer-Barbie gestured for Ken to sit at the couch across from her desk. It also
functions as a place she could sleep, in case the two extra steps it took for her to go to her spare bed
also made her lose focus. Writer-Barbie may be a bit of a workaholic.

Pompadour Ken, now seated, explained everything to Writer-Barbie. How he had lost interest and
no longer really cared for her, as rude as that sounded. He told her he was beginning to, or maybe
had been for a while now, having those thoughts for someone else…. for Stereotypical Ken. He
did his best to portray his all his feelings to a literal writer the best he could, trying his best not to
sound dumb in the process.

Writer-Barbie was understandably taken aback by all this. But not completely surprised. Being a
multiple award-winning author and Nobel prize winning writer of books of all genres (small flex),
she had known that what Pompadour Ken and her shared was not technically a romance. Yes. The
two cared about each other. That made them friends. They respected each other and each other’s
boundaries. That just made them the bare minimum of what it means to be a decent person. And
they lived together but didn’t share the same bed. That made them roommates. But nothing they
did really defined them as…dating.

What had surprised Writer-Barbie was that Pompadour Ken was gay, to at least some degree he
probably hasn’t figured out yet and therefore she should not say it for him and let him come out on
his own terms.

And for Stereotypical Ken no less. A Ken she had sworn her former-boyfriend Ken had hated. This
would make great enemies to lover material for her new book, after she got permission from both
Kens, like a respectful person.
Moving to now sit with Pompadour Ken, Writer-Barbie explained that what he was going through
was ok and she supported him. This had been a …relief…for Pompadour Ken. He didn’t exactly
realise how much he had wanted Writer-Barbie’s approval/acceptance until he got it. It was like
there was a bubble in his chest, holding air from getting to his heart, and her consent to be who he
wanted had burst it. Leaving him…relaxed…and …happy. This was still all so new for Ken.

------------------------------------------------------------------

After their talk, the two decided to continue living together as they usually did, like nothing had
changed, cause really nothing had. They wouldn’t be sharing a room or bed, that was normal. They
would be acting like they were still together for the other Barbies and Kens, when, in reality, both
had set their sights on someone else. It was a good relationship. A partnership. It worked for them
and allowed for gossip and stories to be shared between them.

Pompadour Ken would constantly tell Writer-Barbie how Physicist-Barbie was looking at her,
causing squeals of “anger” to erupt from the woman as she hit him with pillows.

Writer-Barbie would then poke at Pompadour Ken and all the chances he had to be nice to
Stereotypical Ken, but instead chickened out and acted like his old self making bets and challenges
between the two of them. Yes. Pompadour Ken knew this and was trying to work on it. But it was
so much easier to start a fight with Stereotypical Ken then act all friendly with him. Even when he
tried to act friendly, it ended up becoming a challenge or some form of battle, most of which he
would win.

But he was trying.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pompadour Ken was the only one who was looking at Stereotypical Ken when Barbie had so
casually announced that she didn’t love him.

He …was smiling.

But it looked…plastic.

Which made sense. They were dolls. They were made of plastic. Most things in Barbieland were.

But something about this smile just was…plastic. Fake. Like the smile itself was made for other
people’s happiness, but it itself held no joy. Was Stereotypical Ken…upset.

Was he…ok.

Pompadour Ken chose to dismiss the thought. He was probably just used to seeing Stereotypical
Ken upset.

He was thinking too much into this.

------------------------------------------------------------------

When the chance to live at the Kenplex had arrived, Pompadour Ken jumped at it. It wasn’t that he
didn’t like being roommates with Writer-Barbie, but because they lived together, everyone still
assumed they were dating.

After going over their scripts, that Writer-Barbie had composed, the two were ready for
Pompadour Ken to move into the Kenplex.
Setting the scene, the two waited till enough Barbies and Kens were close to their house before
beginning their “argument.” The lines were delivered perfectly, “tears” were shed, “insults” were
made, and it all ended with Pompadour Ken exclaiming how he could just go live at the Kenplex.
Making his exit, Pompadour Ken “accidentally” pushed Writer-Barbie into Physicist-Barbie’s
arms, turning around only slightly to give a wink to his now flustered “ex-girlfriend.”

Pompadour Ken was almost certain most of the Barbies knew what had actually happened. But the
Kens…lets just say Pompadour Ken got a lot of cookie bags after his “breakup.”

Pompadour Ken was also certain the Barbies knew because none of them reacted when he would
meet up with Writer-Barbie for coffee. Despite now living in different places, Pompadour Ken was
beyond happy the two of them could stay friends and meet up every now and then.

It was through these meet ups that Pompadour Ken learned the goings on with Stereotypical Ken.
He hadn’t seen the guy since the Ken Wars, something he regrets immensely.

Apparently Stereotypical Ken was waking up in the middle of the night, crying. He would go for
walks by himself. He wouldn’t talk to anyone. It all worried Pompadour Ken.

To the best of Writer-Barbie’s knowledge, Stereotypical Kenn always went for a morning walk
around the same time early morning, and always stopped near the Kenplex. This was good news
for Pompadour Ken. Maybe if he could catch him alone, the two could talk. It bothered
Pompadour Ken how much Stereotypical Ken had changed now Barbie was gone. If he could help,
at all, he felt he needed to.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Had he done something wrong…

Why would Ken…

Why…

Pompadour Ken was so confused. He had just wanted to talk to Stereotypical Ken, to see if the doll
was ok. He just wanted to know if he needed help.

He just wanted him to be …ok.

Stereotypical Ken yelled at him…

And he …flinched…

He flinched away from Pompadour Ken!

Why!

Yes, the two dolls would beach off from time to time. They would square off against each other.
But neither of them ever got hurt doing so. Hell, during their big “fight” during the Ken Wars the
two had barely touched each other.

Surely, he knew…right?

Stereotypical Ken had to know that Pompadour Ken would never hurt him …right?
He knew he would never…hit him…right?

He wasn’t scared of him…was he?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

COMING TO A STORE NEAR YOU. ITS SEXUALLY CONFUSED KEN. SEE, WE AT MATTEL
ARE VERY INCLUSIVE. THIS KEN JUST CAME OUT TO HIS GIRLFRIEND, STAYED BEST
FRIENDS WITH HER, AND NOW HAS FEELINGS FOR HIS SEEMINGLY STRAIGHT RIVAL.
WHAT? FEED HIM COFFEE WHILE YOU TALK GOSSIP WITH THE GIRLS. STAY UP LATE
WONDERING IF THE KEN YOU LIKE, LIKES YOU BACK. STALK YOUR CRUSH. THERES SO
MANY FEATURES TO CHOOSE FROM. STAY TUNED TO SEE WHAT THIS CRAZY CAT DOES
NEXT. *warning, toy sold separately. Thoughts of other Ken, scripts for future conversations, and
Barbie and Ken friends all sold separately.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 Chapter 4

“You’re worthless.”

“You’re a freak.”

“You’re nothing.”

“You don’t deserve to be alive.”

“Why are you even here Ken.”

“No one will ever love you.”

“No one wants you here.”

“You could jump off the Kenplex and be fine.”

“Why don’t you try it.”

Stereotypical Ken was once again surrounded. Except this time, it was just Pompadour Ken.
Seeing him earlier must have done this.

Stereotypical Ken still felt guilty for what had happened. The Pompadour Kens seemed to pick up
on this as the circle they formed around him began to get smaller, causing Stereotypical Ken to
start being pushed, like some sort of demented game of Pong, between the surrounding Kens.

“You hurt me.”

“You hurt my feelings.”

“You made me feel bad.”

“What’s wrong with you!”

I don’t know!

I don’t know why I’m like this.

I need…help.

“You don’t deserve help.”

“Who would help you.”

“Help is for people who are actually cared about.”

“Who cares about wasted plastic like you.”

The pushing had become harder now. It felt like his whole world was moving. Shaking. Everything
was collapsing around him, and it was all his fault.

Pompadour Ken’s face was directly in front of him as this was said, screaming to no-one else but
him. This was a message. This was meant for him. There was no doubt.
“GO KILL YOURSELF ALREADY!”

Stereotypical Ken woke up with a start. Sitting fully upright he ran a hand through his hair,
ignoring the sweat that now dripped from his fingers.

Looking around he could see it was still nighttime. It was late. No one would be awake.

He was just so… tired….

“…fine…”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

WARNING. SUICIDAL KEN IS SOON TO BE SOLD OUT. GONE FOREVER. NEVER TO COME
BACK TO STORES. SO, BUG YOUR PARENTS FOR ONE NOW!!!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 Chapter 5

It was late. Pompadour Ken knew this. But he just couldn’t care.

After what had happened this morning, Pompadour Ken had run straight to Writer-Barbie, who
was busy with Physicist-Barbie when he got there and had to apologize profusely for interrupting…
them. He still kind of laughed at it when looking back.

He had then tried to see Weird-Barbie, also to no avail. When he had tried to explain how he had
seen Ken, early in the morning, with no one else around, she had made a face and then would not
stop talking about the other dolls…anatomy.

This had made Pompadour Ken reasonably uncomfortable and had him leaving the Weirdhouse.

Now he was just sitting in his apartment…alone…with his thoughts. The act of the morning had
not stopped playing through his head. No matter how many times he had thought about it, he still
couldn’t see what he had done wrong.

He had taken a step. One step. A singular step forward. Arm barely raised from where it was at his
side. His hand’s height had still been parallel to Stereotypical Kens’….

So why the flinch!

It had been driving him mad all day. Plus, the one or two Brewski Beers he had decided to have,
were not helping. Nothing was.

He just wanted to…talk…about all this…with literally anyone at this point.

Looking over to his clock, Pompadour Ken finally registered what time it was.

1:30am.

Mattel, how long had he been sitting here.

No one up to talk to now.

How lost in his thoughts had he been.

Deciding it may have been time to go to bed over an hour ago, Pompadour Ken slowly made his
way off a couch he didn’t even want to know how long he had been sitting on, grabbed the two
bottles of Brewski Beers he is unsure when he had, and made his way out of his living area to his
bedroom.

…Wait

…was that.

Unknown to those who didn’t live in the Kenplex, their elevator was loud. The insides of the
elevator itself were soundproof, and it travelled quietly enough, but almost every Ken, every Ken
that was awake that is, could hear the ding it made when it opened, no matter the floor you were
on.

Someone was in the elevator. Why? At this hour?

…They probably don’t want to be seen.

Pompadour Ken couldn’t help it, curiosity was getting the better of him whether he liked it or not.

He lived on the 13 th floor, there were 15 floors in total, not counting the roof, lobby, or basement,
and the elevator was made of a see-through plastic. If he dashed for the door now, which he was
already doing, he could possibly get a glimpse down of whoever was in the elevator.

Swinging his door open, it was as if time in Barbieland slowed down.

Messy blonde hair.

Piecing blue eyes.

Large blue and pink sweater.

Beach shorts.

Black sneakers.

…Why was Stereotypical Ken here?

Closing his door behind him, Pompadour Ken watched as the lights above the elevator flickered,
before finally coming to a stop on the large R.

The roof.

Why is he going there?

Pompadour Ken was on the 13 th of 15 floors…

It would be quicker to take the stairs.

Running towards them, Pompadour Ken cared little for the feelings of his neighbors as he raced to
the stair-well. Just three stories.

Something…something was wrong.

This wasn’t right…it didn’t feel right…with him at least…in him.

Stereotypical Ken didn’t live in the Kenplex, and nobody lived on the roof.

Why was he going there?

Why at this hour?

Why was he alone?

Pompadour Ken started running up two stairs at a time, then three. Parts of him were saying this
was ok, that Stereotypical Ken didn’t want to be around him, he may just want to see the view, he
liked looking at views since he got up so early for the sunrise, he had no proof something bad was
going to happen.

All good points. All probably true.

But it was one thing…one small part of him…that just knew…just thought…it would be in his best
interest to double check. Just this once. He had to be sure.

He just needed…really needed…to be sure.

Needed this Ken to be…ok.

---------------------------------------------------

Had Stereotypical Ken just seen Pompadour Ken.

No, that can’t be right. Damn dreams.

They were coming after him when he was awake now too.

He just needed to get to the roof.

He needed to…end this.

The dreams…

The guilt…

The shame…

All of it.

He was so …tired.

He just needed to sleep.

He just wanted to sleep and never dream again.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

WARNING. LAST SUICIDE KEN AVALIABLE IN SHOP. PRODUCT WILL BE GONE BY

SUNRISE, GET HIM WHILE YOU STILL CAN!!!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 Chapter 6
Chapter Summary

WARNING: This is the Chapter where the suicide Attempt occurs.

The cool night breeze gently brushed over Stereotypical Ken face. It felt nice. Calm. This whole
situation was surprisingly calming. Was that wrong. Should he be calm about…what he was about
to do.

The loose gravel that decorated the roof of the Kenplex, crunched slightly as he moved towards the
edge of the building. Stereotypical Ken barely registered it.

He had seen in the real world that buildings this big usually had what looked like a wire fence on
their roofs. On the edge. Was that because of this. Was it to prevent this. Were there people in the
real-world who felt the way he did. Who had this indescribable urge to hurt themselves. To jump…

No-one cares about the pain of one so pathetic. If they had those in the real world, it was just for
people like you to have a diving board.

Lets just get this over with…I want to sleep.

--------------------------------------------------------------

One story left.

One more story.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Stereotypical Ken was at the ledge now.

From here he could see all the lights of Barbieland.

It was nice…it was a nice view.

Get higher to see it.

Ok already.

Stepping up onto the ledge, Stereotypical Ken looked down. He was high up…very high up.
Stereotypical Ken had never seen a doll Barbie, Ken, or Allan fall from this height. This…this
would hurt him.

Even if he wasn’t human …enough, changed enough, this fall would still do damage. It would
still…hurt.

Maybe he shouldn’t-
DO IT ALREADY. KILL YOURSELF YOU USELESS PIECE OF PLASTIC. IF YOU BACK
OUT YOU ARE JUST MAKING YOURSELF MORE PATHETIC. ONLY A COWARD
WOULD BACK OUT NOW.

It was like a shift. Like Stereotypical Ken’s body weight all just went one way. A small movement
really.

But he could feel it. It was enough. It felt slow. Like time had slowed down for him to remember
this moment, the feeling of weightlessness, of falling…if he ever felt it again that is.

“NO!”

Time was suddenly moving normally.

Stereotypical Ken turned, his body was still moving forward, nothing he could do could stop that,
but he was able to glance over his shoulder, stare at who had yelled, who was here, who had come,
he wanted to know. Even if he would only see them for a second.

Pompadour Ken…?

Why…

-------------------------------------------------------------

Pompadour Ken had burst through the stairwell door…only to see his worst nightmare unfolding.

Stereotypical Ken…roofs ledge…falling…

HE WAS FALLING!

“NO!”

Pompadour Ken didn’t think, his body was moving on its own, his mind was completely blank
except for one thought.

Save Him

Words, not even Writer-Barbie’s, could not describe how fast Pompadour Ken ran to the ledge,
leaping off after the falling doll. He felt is body become weightless.

It had all happened so fast, Stereotypical Ken had barely fallen, his body still close enough to the
ledge to reach.

Grabbing literally whatever was within his grasp that was connected to the other doll, Pompadour
Ken was just barely able to clasp his fingertips over the ledge.

Mattel, he was literally being pulled in two directions and he really didn’t want to go in one.

Looking down, Pompadour Ken noticed two things. One: what he had been lucky enough to catch
was Stereotypical Ken’s hand/wrist. Two: Stereotypical ken was looking at him. He looked
surprised that the other was there. He was …innocent, soft even. Like all emotions had left his
body recently and were now only starting to come back.
“Hold on ok. Ken, listen to me man. I’m going to get us out of this. Just promise me you’ll hold
on!”

He didn’t know how he was going to do this, but Pompadour Ken knew he had to find some way.
A doll had never fallen from this height before. There was always the chance he would be fine. No-
one ever died in Barbieland right. They could get hurt sure, that’s how Doctor-Barbie got her job.
But he wouldn’t die.

But… would Ken…?

Pompadour Ken wasn’t sure. Stereotypical Ken had been to the real world. It had changed him like
it had Barbra. She had been the only Barbie not to be affected by Patriarchy. Stereotypical Ken
may not be human, but he was definitely more than most Ken. To Pompadour Ken at least.

Not the time dude. Ok. How to get out of this…

Ok, this is a dumb idea…let’s do it…

“Ken, I’m going to try to pull you up. If you can reach the ledge, pull yourself up. Got it?”

Pompadour Ken had been looking at his hands while he said this. It hurt, hanging like this. He was
slowly watching as his knuckles became whiter. Now looking down to the dangling Ken,
Pompadour Ken was, for a reason unknown to him, waiting for a response. He was waiting for
Stereotypical Ken to tell him that he would pull himself up if he were to let him go, even for a
second.

Though it hadn’t occurred to him while he had been running, or…jumping… it was now beginning
to dawn on Pompadour Ken as to how unlikely the situation they are in right now…was an
accident. Stereotypical Ken had been on the ledge, at the edge of it, standing. He had been
surprised when he saw Pompadour Ken. He hadn’t expected the latter to be there.

Had he… done this… on purpose…?

Pompadour Ken, despite the now no-longer-friendly tingling spreading through both his arms,
would wait for Stereotypical Ken to tell him. Tell him that if he pulled him up to grasp the ledge
himself, he would pull himself up, and not…. something else.

Stereotypical Ken was looking up at him, a million thoughts seemed to travel through his mind, his
eyes were darting all over the place. This was not a normal reaction. He really had…

Cross that bridge when we get to it.

Stereotypical Ken was nodding at him. That would have to do.

Using his incredible upper body strength, a gift all Kens had, Pompadour Ken pulled up the other
Ken, worrying more about if he was hurting him by pulling him by the wrist, and not their current
situation.

His biceps flexing, Pompadour Ken raised the other close enough to grab the ledge, arm shaking.
This position was hurting him, he didn’t know why, but bending his arm this way with this much
weight on the end was proving to be painful.

------------------------------------------------------------
Stereotypical Ken hands touching the surface of the ledge, pulled himself over. Feet now back on
the solid gravel lining the roof, Stereotypical Ken turned quickly to assist taller Ken. Stereotypical
Ken knew he probably didn’t need his help. He was stronger, taller, and overall better than him.
This had all probably been an easy distraction for the latter.

It’s not hard to be better than nothing.

Pompadour Ken practically fell over the edge back onto the roof. Breathing heavily, mumbling
something to himself that Stereotypical Ken couldn’t quite comprehend.

Stereotypical Ken felt…that is… he thinks he might need to say something. Explain this in a way
that doesn’t convey the whole truth. Though he was still trying to work through what emotions
were, and why he felt them, Stereotypical Ken knew one thing for certain. He did not want
Pompadour Ken knowing the real reason as to why he was up here. If that meant lying to him, so
be it. He felt…guilty…not because the other got hurt…he did feel guilty about that, but there was
more… he felt guilty that the other had seen him…like this…weak…

He just needed Pompadour Ken to believe he was ok, what had just happened was a mistake or a
misunderstanding and be left alone. That was all he needed.

“Look…um Ken…thanks and everything…but like…you didn’t have to…you see what happened
w-”.

Jolting up from where he was lying, Pompadour Ken didn’t let Stereotypical Ken finish his
“explanation”. Instead, he once again grabbed his wrist and basically dragged the sweater wearing
Ken away from the ledge.

He was walking away from it like it itself was dangerous. Like at any second the ledge could
attack them.

Now almost back at the elevator doors, Pompadour Ken threw, literally threw, Stereotypical Ken
onto the rough gravel, looming over him with a mixture of emotions fighting for dominance over
his face.

“Do-Don’t you dare…. DON’T YOU FUCKING LIE TO ME KEN!”

-------------------------------------------------------------

Pompadour Ken was …shocked…by his actions. Here was Stereotypical Ken, sad, confused,
clearly unwell, and now scared. …Of Pompadour Ken.

But Pompadour Ken had every right to be mad. And scared. And hurt. And ….

Argh!

Moving quicker then the other could react to, Pompadour Ken essentially tackled Stereotypical
Ken in a hug that bears would be proud of.

Stereotypical Ken, of course expecting some form of attack, had brought his arms up in a weak
attempt at a block, was now trapped in the hug, arms pinned between them, pressing hard into
Pompadour Ken’s chests.

Pompadour Ken was breathing heavily now, whatever he had been on that had him moving and
thinking with grace and strength before was now gone. He was shaking. Hard. Head in
Stereotypical Ken’s shoulder, next to his ear, breathing. Erratically. Eyes…leaking. Shit he was
crying. This might be the first time Pompadour Ken had cried. But they were both ok. They were
both alive and mostly unharmed. So why…

It won’t stop…dammit…

“Ken…are you…crying…why would you…you don’t have to cry you know?”

Ok…Stereotypical ken was officially starting to piss off Pompadour Ken. Of course, the doll knew
he didn’t have to cry. But he was. It’s not exactly like he could control it.

“I know that you idiot…I just am ok.”

“Sorry man…I wasn’t trying to say…it’s ok…perfectly normal to cry.”

Again, this was something Pompadour Ken already knew. Mattel, why was he so obsessed with
this Ken again.

Laughing more to himself slightly Stereotypical Ken made to big mistake of continuing to talk.

“Hell man, …if you knew you were going to be this sad maybe you shouldn’t have bothered
catching me.”

The fuck did he just say.

 Chapter 7

Pompadour Ken finally stopped shaking; in fact, he now stiffened around Stereotypical Ken.

Stereotypical Ken was relieved. Perhaps Pompadour Ken had realised from what he had said how
dumb it was to save him. That he wasn’t worth saving or getting hurt for. Pompadour Ken would
probably get up now, throw hurtful words his way, and then leave him to his business. That was
for the best after all.

Slowly unwinding his hands from the others back, Pompadour shifted, allowing room for
Stereotypical Ken to move his trapped hands. He still wasn’t looking at Stereotypical Ken, and the
way he was moving…it wasn’t just slow. It was purposeful. Slow but controlled.

This was weird. In his dreams, whenever the other had been mad or had tried to hurt Stereotypical
Ken, he had done so loudly. It was harsh and painful and obvious. Like a crazed animal. This was
different. There was no denying this silence was livid. He was definitely mad. But he was being …
quiet. Precise. …This was so much worse. Pompadour Ken’s hands were on his arms now, just
below the shoulders. His head was still on Stereotypical Ken’s shoulder, but it was moving. Far to
slow.

Stereotypical ken didn’t want this suspense, this fear of what was to happen. He would rather the
other just yell at him and be done with it. This, …this was just terrifying.

Pompadour Ken finally looked at the terrified Ken. His eyes were …cold. There was silent fury
laced in there that scared Stereotypical Ken, like if he were to say the wrong thing in this moment,
he…. he didn’t even know what would happen.

“What did you say.”

Each word was said slowly. Like Pompadour Ken was holding something back.

What was Stereotypical Ken supposed to say now. Though he didn’t know what they were, if he
said the wrong thing now, there would definitely be consequences. All he could do in this moment
was stare. He didn’t know how Pompadour Ken was making him feel these things. This blinding
terror. He thought he had gotten used to it in his dreams. But this wasn’t a dream. This was real.
And Pompadour Ken was really mad at him.

Stereotypical Ken looked away. He knew there was no point lying. Pompadour Ken wasn’t an
idiot. He had said he didn’t need saving. That could only have meant one thing, and if his reaction
was anything to go off, Pompadour Ken knew this. He had been up here for a reason. He hadn’t
fallen by mistake.

“You… you heard what I said Ken. I know you don’t need me to repeat it.”

“Say. It. Again.”

“I don’t… I don’t want to.”

Despite the space Pompadour Ken had given him to move his arms, Stereotypical Ken had kept
them exactly where they were. Pushed up against Pompadour Kens chest, gasping lightly at the
fabric of his white shirt.

“Why…”
Pompadour Ken had breathed this word. Though there was still fury in his eyes, sorrow had almost
completely taken over.

“Why would you do this…”

Stereotypical Ken was so confused, Pompadour Ken’s attitude and mood kept switching, he didn’t
know whether to be scared of the doll in front of him or attempt to comfort him.

“Why do you care?”

“What!”

Sorrow was gone.

Fury was back.

Shit!
 Chapter 8

Pompadour Ken hands were now gripping the other’s shoulders to the point of pain.

Had he seriously just asked that!

“You did not just ask me ‘why do I care you nearly threw yourself off a roof!’”

“Yeah, I did. Why are you mad?”

“Are you serious right now!”

“Are you, you’re acting weird!”

“Me!”

Stereotypical Ken was starting to get mad. Yes him. Why did he care? Why was he acting like
this?

“Yes you! Why do you care about me? Aren’t we enemies?”

Pompadour Ken looked somewhat hurt by what he had just said. But they were enemies, right?
Had been forever. Couldn’t stay in the same room without dares or challenges being made, without
some form of fight breaking out.

Without Pompadour Ken getting mad at any other Ken that…tried to hurt…Stereotypical Ken.
Without Stereotypical Ken admiring how good Pompadour Ken was at dancing, but in a
completely platonic and jealous way.

They could hardly be near each other without the night ending in the two constantly being near
each other…dancing together…being in each other’s space…sharing small touches…

…wait what?

…. They were enemies…that made them enemies…right?

“Ken…I care about you, ok? Yes, in the past we would fight over Barbie, or make bets with each
other, but that doesn’t make us enemies. I thought we were just rivals. I still like spending time
with you…I still …respect you… . Did you not know that?”

Clearly not!

“But…if you are my rival…why do you care so much…why would you care…wouldn’t it be
better for you if I was gone- “

“No! No, it would not be better! It would be a thousand times worse!”

Pompadour Ken was shaking his almost violently while he said this. He didn’t want to have to
imagine what his life would be like, what it would have been like, without Stereotypical Ken.
“What. How? I understand Barbra is gone so we can’t fight over her anymore, but there are other
Barbies, and you won’t have to compete-”

“How are you not understanding this! I don’t want to compete for Barbies!”

“What?! That doesn’t make sense. Why were you always around me then? Why were you always
trying to get Stereotypical Barbie away from me? Why were we always challenging each other?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!”

“…what...”

----------------------------------------------------------

This is not how Pompadour Ken thought his confession would happen. He had talked about it
loads with Writer-Barbie, imagining the perfect scenario, the perfect moment to tell the Ken
everything he felt for him. Every reason why he wanted to be with him. He had thought it would
happen at sunset maybe, on the Beach, perhaps during a picnic, or after they had just gone
swimming.

It was not supposed to be simply blurted out on a roof in the middle of the night, in the midst of an
argument, occurring right after a suicide attempt.

“…what…no you can’t…”

Excuse me.

“I don’t think that’s really your decision.”

“You can’t love me Ken.”

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t really love me!”

“Believe me, I do!”

“Stop it…just stop…I know your saying stuff to try and make me feel better…or I don’t know…
saying stuff to convince me I have a life worth living for…but this is cruel.”

“Are you fucking serious right now,” Pompadour Ken dropped his grip from Stereotypical Ken
like he was now suddenly made of hot metal, “you think that’s what’s happening right now!”

“What else could be happening!” Stereotypical Ken’s hands were pulled off Pompadour Ken when
he had pulled himself away, they felt awkward now.

“I don’t know. Maybe me telling you I love you!”

“Which you don’t.”

“Yes, I do!”
“You can’t!”

“Why!”

“Well for starters what about your Barbie, Writer-Barbie?”

“We broke up, technically months ago, because I told her I was in love with you. Even before that
we were never really together. Everyone knows we aren’t together anymore.”

Stereotypical Ken had not known that. He had been in Barbra’s house, alone, for weeks, avoiding
everyone. Pompadour Ken was standing now. He was pacing and moving like a caged animal.

“Ok…well…what about the fact we’re enemies?”

“Are you serious right now!” Pompadour Kens head snapped so quickly in Stereotypical Ken’s
direction that he worried for the other’s neck, “I already told you; you were never my enemy. Hell,
we were never really rivals either. I never wanted Barbra, I wanted you, but you couldn’t see that,
so that really just made us competitive friends.”

Friends…Wait no…That can’t be right.

“If we were friends…and if you never liked Barbra, then why all the competitions? Why all the
dares? Why were you always being mean to me?”

That last question seemed to hi a nerve in Pompadour Ken. He looked crestfallen…exhausted from
this conversation.

“Look I…*sigh*…dammit.”

Pompadour Ken slowly took a seat in front of Stereotypical Ken, sitting cross legged, looking
down at his lap. He was still a few steps away from the confused Ken, like he was giving him
space. He still looked…sad.

“I competed with you…I made bets with you…because I liked spending time with you. I liked
being around you.”

What…

“I know it’s no excuse. I never knew it was hurting you this much…. I competed with you for
Barbra, not because I wanted to be with her, but because I wanted to be with you. I have for
months, and I still do.”

Was he crying again…

“This isn’t my excuse, and if it is it’s not really a good one. I tried…to act differently…to show you
how much I cared. But I …I kept getting scared. I liked being around you so much. If I said
something, or did something to change that, I thought I would lose you. You would act differently
around me. …So…I got…scared. I acted like I always do…and it was dumb and stupid and if I
knew it hurt you this much, I never would have…I would have…I’m…I’m so sorry.”

He is definitely crying now…

He isn’t lying to me…I think…does he actually care…

“Ken…”
Stereotypical Ken was unsure. He had heard about this. people saying anything in a time of crisis.
He had to be sure Pompadour Ken wasn’t trying to trick him. Moving slowly to the crying Ken,
Stereotypical Ken now sat in front of the other. eyes taking on that red hue that came with crying.
Pompadour Ken looked at him. All Stereotypical Ken had said was his name, he was waiting,
waiting for him to say something, blame what just happened on him. The two of them were only a
hugs length apart, Stereotypical Ken knew they were closer than usual, but he didn’t care, not now.

He looked so vulnerable. How had this been the Ken tormenting him this whole time?

“Ken…I need you to kiss me.”

 Chapter 9

“Wait…What!”

“I think…you should kiss me.”

“…What?” it came out as a confused sigh as Pompadour Ken stared at the other. He had run up
three flights of stairs, rescued his crush from falling, had a fight, confessed his feelings, found out
he may be the reason Stereotypical Ken fell in the first place, was crying and apologizing, and now
Stereotypical Ken wants them to kiss. What was happening tonight. It wasn’t even 2’oclock yet.

“Ken…what…why would you want to kiss…didn’t you just say that…I hurt you…”

“Ken, you didn’t hurt me…I thought…that is to say…I thought you disliked me, that you wanted
Barbra…that we were enemies…you weren’t entirely mean to me though…I sometimes liked our
competitions…and when we would dance together…Now can you please just kiss me…I need to
try something.”

“Wait, wait just hold on…Just stop ok.”

STOP. DID YOU REALLY JUST SAY STOP. YOU HAVE BEEN WANTING TO KISS THIS DOLL
FOR HOW LONG. YOU HAVE THE CHANCE. FOR ONCE TURN OFF YOUR STUPID
EMPATHETICAL BRAIN, AND KISS THE GUY.

It wasn’t that simple. Pompadour Ken had questions. This was all happening so fast. Stereotypical
Ken was close enough for Pompadour Ken to practically smell him. Mattel, he smelled good.
Pompadour Ken had wanted nothing more then to kiss this Ken for months, but now. After
everything that had happened, was now really the right time.

There were things Pompadour Ken just…he had to ask them first.

“Ken…you just told me that me being mean to you is the reason you tried to …jump. Why would
you want to kiss…me?”

Stereotypical Ken was confused, is that what Pompadour Ken had thought.

“I didn’t jump because of you.”

“…WHAT!”

“I never said I jumped because of you.”

“You kept saying we were enemies and that I was always mean to you. I thought…”

“I was listing reasons for why we couldn’t be together…not reasons for t-…. for that.”

“…wait …then …why?”

Stereotypical ken really didn’t want to talk about this. he had assumed when he asked Pompadour
Ken to kiss him, he would just…do it. He had just had this big confession, kept constantly saying
how in love with him he was. Why couldn’t they just kiss.
The real reason Stereotypical Ken wanted to kiss was slightly dumb, but he still wanted to try it. He
had been alone, for weeks, with nothing but his thoughts. And Barbra’s tv. And romance novels.
Stereotypical ken never knew how many books one person could read, or how many movies one
person could watch, if they just didn’t sleep.

Yes, most of the shows and movies he watched were about horses. But some, a selected few, were
about romance. And usually, after the hero saves the girl (which he guessed he was in this
situation) the two kiss. And it is supposed to feel amazing, be everything, and fix everything. If
Pompadour Ken loved him, then kissing him should help Stereotypical Ken…it would make him
feel better…right?

He just needed to…try.

“I…don’t want to talk about it…not now…but it wasn’t your fault ok.”

Stereotypical Ken really was close to Pompadour Ken now, it was driving him crazy. The latter
wanted this, needed this, Mattel he needed it so bad.

“Ken…wait…one more… just hold on.”

Stereotypical ken let out an annoyed whine. Surely it was not this hard to kiss someone. To be fair,
he had never kissed anyone before, and Barbra had always turned him down. But this was
different. Pompadour Ken told him he loved him. That meant they kiss now.

Stereotypical Ken just…if this could make him feel good…feel better…then he needed it…
desperately.

“Ken…do you actually want this…do you want to do this…with me…or is this just something
you’re trying out…or is this a pity kiss, because I have to tell you now, if it is-”

“KEN! I want this. I want you. Can you please just kiss me already.”

Stereotypical Ken knew he sounded desperate. He probably looked desperate too. He just didn’t
care. Not now. Not at this moment. He is at his lowest of lows, and someone just told him they
love him, they care about him, that they like the fact that he is in their life.

If Pompadour Ken is being honest, if this isn’t just some trick or joke or prank, than he needs to
know. Now!

“Ok…”
 Chapter 10

Pompadour Ken was still unsure of this. Was Stereotypical Ken even in the right headspace for
this, he had just jumped off the roof. He might still be dazed, or …frazzled. He might want this
now…but what about later. And what if he felt like he owed Pompadour Ken something.
Pompadour Ken wanted to kiss him, deeply, without remorse, without guilt, …but there was this
feeling.

Then again, Stereotypical Ken seemed very sure of this, he had asked multiple times. And he was
leaning in.

It’s just a kiss, he is probably ok enough for that.

The two leaned in slowly, their lips finally meeting. Stereotypical Ken still doesn’t exactly know
how to kiss, and Pompadour Ken holds back slightly, only slightly because, damn, he has wanted
this for so long.

A slow rhythm starts with Pompadour Ken taking the lead. Deepening the kiss slightly, angling his
head, placing one of his hands of Stereotypical Ken’s waist as the other tangles in his hair.
Stereotypical Ken slowly gets the hang of how to kiss, it is messy at first but soon develops into a
natural feeling. Pompadour Ken begins to fully accept the kiss, pushing slightly more into it,
moving his tongue to brush against the other’s bottom lip, an act greeted by a slight gasp.

Pompadour Ken takes this as a sign to stop now. He doesn’t want to push his luck with the kiss.
However, pulling away proves difficult as the moment he tries, Stereotypical Ken once again has
his shirt in his hands, pulling him desperately closer.

This is what some may call a breaking point for Pompadour Ken’s self-control.

There was little he could do against his desires now, decency now a full mile out the door.

Pompadour Ken’s hands find a way under Stereotypical Ken sweater clinging hopelessly to the soft
skin of his back. All while he thrusts his tongue without sympathy into the other’s mouth, relishing
in the moan that escapes him as he does so.

Stereotypical Ken is completely overpowered by the other’s lust. He had simply wanted
Pompadour Ken not to break the kiss, but now…fuck. This all felt so incredible. His tongue was in
his mouth, it was a feeling he didn’t know he craved until this point. It felt so…. argh,
Stereotypical Ken couldn’t even describe it. He was completely mindless with need. Need for more
of this…this goodness he felt. It was like waves of warmth, continuously crashing on top of him in
a way that made him so pitifully blissful.

He was on Pompadour Ken’s lap now. Hands move from his chest to touch the immaculate
softness that was his hair. Not an inch of his mouth was left uncovered as the two embraced each
other’s lips.

It was perfect. And everything. And warm. And sweet. And definitely making Stereotypical Ken
feel better.

He is perfect. amazing. Special. Unique.

You don’t deserve him.

How could someone like this ever want you.

Shut up shut up shut up!

Stereotypical Ken was faltering now. He wanted, desperately, to keep kissing. but these thoughts.
These feelings. They were so loud.

Why would Pompadour Ken want him. He was perfect. Incredible. Could do backflips. Could surf.
Was more muscular than him. Why would a Ken that perfect want to be with one so broken.

You will be a burden to him.

He doesn’t want you.

You’ll end up pushing him away.

He will leave you. All alone.

No, he…wouldn’t, right? He cares about me.

No one will ever truly care about you…You’re nothing.

“Ken…Ken what’s wrong?”

What…

“Ken…hey man…open your eyes ok…”

Stereotypical Ken’s eyes were indeed closed, and…wet? Opening them he saw that Pompadour
Ken was looking at him, confusion, and concern both painstakingly obvious on his face.

When did we stop kissing?

“Hey…welcome back. You ok…?”

As he said this Pompadour Ken’s hand came up to cup the side of his face. It was a kind, simple
gesture. Stereotypical Ken knew it was a kind, simple gesture. He knew now the difference
between the Pompadour Ken of his dreams and the Pompadour Ken with him now. He knew this.
He really did. But…

Pompadour Ken’s hand froze. Panic, fear, shame, all now making their way onto his already
confused face.

Stereotypical Ken had flinched.

After what had just happened…After what they just shared…

Pompadour Ken lowered his hand, looking down at it. It was on Stereotypical Ken’s lap, who was
on his lap.

Why…why still
 Chapter 11

“Look…Ken I’m sorry…can we-”

“Ken stop.”

Stereotypical Ken stopped talking. He had wanted Pompadour Ken to touch him. Hold him like he
mattered. But he was an idiot and flinched. His thoughts were going crazy, so much so he couldn’t
even tell when they had finished kissing, or how long tears had been falling.

He …hated himself.

“Ken. You need to tell me what’s wrong and why you were up here. Now.”

“I really don’t think-”

“You flinched from me.”

There was a dangerous undertone to what Pompadour Ken had just said. It silenced whatever
excuse, lie, or avoidance Stereotypical Ken had been about to say.

“Twice. You faltered while we were kissing. You cried!” So he had noticed that, dammit. “Before
you were scared and blocked your face because you thought I was trying to hurt you. And earlier
still you…. you…. why…. please Ken just tell me why…tell me how I can fix this…”

Pompadour Ken looked desperate. Stereotypical Ken could see it in his eyes. This doll cared so
much about him. He would have died today without knowing that.

Would he judge him?

Yes.

Would he hate him?

Definitely.

Would he…leave him?

You would just be a burden to keep around.

But still…Stereotypical Ken had to tell him. He deserved to know.

“I um…I’ve been having thoughts…dreams…bad ones…”

Pompadour Ken was waiting…clearly, he would have to say more.

“I’ve been having them since Barbra left. Since I found out no one loved me. Cared about me the
way I thought she did. The dreams…involved pain…the other Barbies and Ken hurting me.”

Stereotypical Ken hadn’t told anyone about all this. Hearing it all now…maybe he should have
told someone…anyone…maybe he should have asked for help a while ago.

“At first, I would only have them when I was asleep, so I tried staying up for a while after dark. It
worked for a little bit. But then…”

He could see the concern on Pompadour Ken’s face. He was burdening him with this knowledge,
with this story. But he couldn’t stop…he doubted the other would let him anyway.

“…it was like the thoughts had their own personality. They weren’t me anymore…but I was still
the only one who heard them. …And they hated me…they would tell how bad and broken I am…
how no one could ever love me…how I deserved…how I deserved…dammit…the thoughts said I
shouldn’t exist…that I was a mistake, that I deserved pain…I deserved death…if it was
possible….I just…I was sad all the time…and they knew it…I didn’t want to tell anyone because I
thought they all hated me…I didn’t want to be any more of a burden then I was…after the
Patriarchy…I didn’t think anyone would care…about me…or if I…did this…I’m sorry…I didn’t
know you cared…”

There, it was all out in the open now. If Pompadour Ken now hated and left him, it would have
been ok.

Stereotypical Ken could feel Pompadour Ken moving underneath him.

Right, I’m still sitting on him, going to be hard for him to leave if I’m on him.

“Ken…I’m going to touch your face now, is that ok.”

Stereotypical Ken had thought of getting off the other Ken when he heard this. Looking now at
Pompadour Ken face, he felt his heart give a twinge. Pompadour Ken had this look. It was sad…
but sad for Stereotypical Ken, sad for him in a way that made him feel loved, that someone cared
about him. Deeply.

Slowly, hesitantly Pompadour Ken’s hand came to rest on Stereotypical Ken’s cheek, thumb
moving in gentle circles as the two simply stared at each other.

“I’m sorry Ken. I should have told you how I felt a long time ago. …if…If you’ll have me…I
would like to help you…would like to make you feel special for as long as you want……damn,
That sounds cheesy doesn’t it.”

Stereotypical Ken couldn’t help but smile. It was a shocked smile. But a smile non the less. Here
he was worrying that Pompadour Ken would leave him the moment he got his kiss, or the moment
he found out all the others flaws. And here he was, asking Ken to stay with him, be with him….
that was what he was asking, right? The two had had serious communication problems in the
past…just to be sure…

“Ken…are you asking me to be …your boyfriend?”

“Um yeah…probably should have asked it more plainly. But, yeah. If you want to that is. I
understand if you just want to be friends or if you-”

“No. No I want to…that is…if you’ll take me…I would like to be your boyfriend.”

The grin Pompadour Ken gave him held so many emotions, joy, glee, excitement, relief, etc, all
rolled into the most beautiful face Stereotypical Ken had ever seen.

The two once again shared a kiss. It was wonderful. Their mouths now moved as one as the whole
world seemed to leave, it was just them in this moment. No on and nothing else.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

IT IS OFFICAL. SUICIDAL KEN IS GONE. WILL HE VER COME BACK. MATTEL CAN
NEITHER CONFIRM NOR DENIE THIS. WHAT WE CAN TELL YOU IS MORE KENTASTIC
AND KENTABULOUS CREATIONS WILL BE COMING SOON. SO, BUY BUY BUY!!!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 Chapter 12

1 month later:

Everything had changed that night. After their kiss Stereotypical Ken hadn’t wanted to go home.
He didn’t want to be alone.

Pompadour Ken had of course offered for the Ken to stay with him tonight. An offer that made the
other Ken blush and become extremely awkward sounding for a Ken. It wasn’t until Pompadour
had clarified that they would simply be sharing a bed, or Pompadour Ken would sleep on the
couch, not…that.

This had caused both to laugh and head to the elevator.

Once inside the two had shared a series of small kisses from the elevator to Pompadour Ken’s door,
to his couch. They were both…giddy. It had really only just sunk in that they were now boyfriends.
They were together.

Pompadour Ken was happy to go as slow as Stereotypical Ken needed, a factor Stereotypical Ken
was grateful for (not really something he has to be grateful for though because it just means
Pompadour Ken is being a decent fucking human being and not forcing Stereotypical Ken into
anything he isn’t ready for yet. Sorry, mini rant.).

The two had agreed to share the bed that night, Stereotypical Ken curled up against Pompadour
Ken’s chest. And it was that night, Stereotypical Ken finally had a good night’s sleep.

Now, the two were living together. It was a bit sudden, but Stereotypical Ken just couldn’t stay in
Barbra’s house anymore. Technically, he lived in some flat in the Kenplex, he was just never there.
Stereotypical Ken had ended up giving his house away to Doctor-Barbie (she had been
complaining that her house was too close to the beach), and now spent almost every night and
every morning curled up next to Pompadour Ken.

Not that everything was now perfect to say. Stereotypical Ken still had bad days. Days when the
inner voice was too much. Days when Pompadour Ken would find his boyfriend sobbing in the
shower, fully clothed, yelling at himself to shut up at 5 in the morning. It was on days like those
that Stereotypical Ken still wasn’t sure if this was all real. Like the fact that Pompadour Ken would
hold him in the shower while he cried for what could be hours, only to then spend the rest of the
day treating him like he was the best thing Mattel ever created. It somehow still felt too good to be
real. Like…he wasn’t good enough…for it to be real. He wasn’t enough…and therefore did not
deserve so much.

After finding out that all the Barbies and Kens did not, in fact, hate him, Stereotypical Ken had
been meeting up with his old friends more, as well as regularly getting the help he needed from
Therapist-Barbie. He would talk about this with her. The fact that Pompadour Ken was the best
thing that could have happened to him, yet he didn’t feel like he deserved him. Therapist-Barbie
had been more than understanding and had been slowly working with Stereotypical Ken to restore
what was once his self-worth.

It was slow work. And it was long work. But it was working.

Stereotypical Ke would fall asleep each night now knowing he was loved. That someone
incredible…loved him. Flaws and all. And knowing one day, when he was better, he would be able
to show this Ken every bit of happiness the other has given him and would continue to do so for as
long as he would let him.

~Fin

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!