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Barbie and just Kenđ
Can you do some heavy hurt comfort with Ryan Goslings! Ken and reader? Thanksss Love your writing!
A/n: Thanks Pooki. You asked and you shall receive, also sorry these requests are coming out slowly I've been busy with school and work. This could be before patriarchy Ken? I don't know where ever you feel it fits best
Summary: Kens perfectly happy living his best day everyday alongside you, but you can't seem to wonder what is would be like to really live.
Pairing: Gosling! Ken and Gender-neutral doll reader (a bit existential, talks of death and wanting to die not in a morbid way!)

âHey!âÂ
Your head snapped around to the direction of familiar hearty, booming voice you had grown so used to, your flickering gaze didnât wonder the vibrant stretch of houses for long, as they quickly snapped to giddy blonde man,
failing out stretched his arm excitedly, eagerly approaching the small gate of your white picket fence.
Flicking the latch and clumsily shutting the gate behind him, the frail wood bouncing with the harsh slam.
His dimples pushed back by the curves of his mouth, pearly rows of teeth gleaming under the sparking sun, golden strands of hair pushed back against his sun kissed skin,Â
Ken.
âIâve been looking for you everywhere! What have you been doing all day?â
He huffed with a grin, squatting down beside you on the soft green carpeting the quiet earth.Â
You turned your head slightly, glancing at him, your eyes soft as you looked over the wavering green plants, that shook so softly in the gentle wind, dew dripping, dipping the delicate leaves down.
You couldnât bring yourself to answer, your attention solely fixated on the garden before you.Â
Ken's pale eyes remained on you, as you mindlessly watched over the pocket of green. His brow arched, his eyes narrowing at the swaddle of plants.
âHow come you spend so much time looking at these things?âÂ
The breeze caressing your face, a sigh slipping from your mouth, shoulders slumping down at the question.
âI donât know.â you muttered, voice strained in a hushed whisper, dying out in the draft.
Ken's face twisted into one of discontentment upon hearing your reply, wrapping a firm arm around your wilted frame.
Ken wasnât quite sure what to do, you werenât usually like this.
âYou seem off today?âÂ
He said as you tucked your head beneath his jaw, a heavy sigh escaping your throat.
âDo you ever wish you could be a plant?â
Ken let out a heart chuckle, but seeing your face fall, a blush biting at your soft skin he coughed, clearing his throat.Â
âWhat do you mean?â his voice held a sentimental tone you had never heard from him.
âI donât know.â there was a pregnant pause before you spoke again.
âAlive.â you mumbled anxiously fiddling with your clothes.Â
Ken's brows furrowed.
âAive? We are alive, arenât we?â
âNot in the same way.â your voice held a longing to it, your gaze fixated on the plants as if waiting for something.Â
âThey have beginnings, they grow, blossom, they watch the seasons pass by, they wither.âÂ
You stopped yourself for a moment as if something in you froze and Ken couldnât help but watch you intently. Â
âThey die.â
Time pulled the silence between you, stretching it further and further out, until reality came snapping back, hitting Ken square in the face. His chest filled with a sensation he couldnât understand. An unwavering sense of fear.
âDo you want that?â
He breathed holding his breath as he waited for your response.
âMaybe. Someday.âÂ
Your eyes wander to the cloudless blue sky. There was a silence filling the air with uneasiness before Ken spoke again.Â
âWell, when that day comes, Iâll lay down beside you.â
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I was listening to Mitski when I wrote this, send more Ken requests!