— independent headcanon based robby keene. tolerated by mads, 23, she/her. doc. memes. promo. wishlist. affiliated with but not exclusive to @mskwtz, @taughtdamage, @taughtdefense canon divergence beneath read more

Kiana Khansmith

if i look back, i am lost

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

tannertan36
occasionally subtle
Peter Solarz

Love Begins
Misplaced Lens Cap
tumblr dot com
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

oozey mess
YOU ARE THE REASON

blake kathryn
we're not kids anymore.

@theartofmadeline
Today's Document
Jules of Nature
RMH

pixel skylines
Sweet Seals For You, Always

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@taughtpain
— independent headcanon based robby keene. tolerated by mads, 23, she/her. doc. memes. promo. wishlist. affiliated with but not exclusive to @mskwtz, @taughtdamage, @taughtdefense canon divergence beneath read more

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cont. from here | @teachespain
he's leaning against the doorframe, taking in the scene before him, his dad's pink shirt and matching pink face. he already knows what happened. harper had told him about the kick, and he had just reminded her about color theory and pointed out that his dad was about to start a load of laundry. he never told her what to do, just pointed her in the right direction to deal with her frustration while reminding her not to do this to anyone else. the twins liked pranking their grandpa, and johnny didn't seem to take much offense to it. it's all fun and games, and so long as they don't involve other people or take it too far, robby doesn't see any harm in it.
johnny looks down at the shirt and robby has to resist grinning. he's the perfect picture of innocence. he perfected that display years ago, before he even turned to a life of crime. the ability to mask his emotions and twist his face to portray something else has served him well throughout the years.
his act doesn't falter, even when his dad points at him and pleads for him to stop. he's going to laugh at it later once he's out of earshot. johnny looks so out of place in a shirt like that. robby has a hard time imagining the man in front of him as a karate champion. he looks ridiculous.
it gets harder to hold it in when he suggests robby could've been the one to teach harper the laundry trick. it reminds him of one of his mom's many ex-boyfriends. he had been acting nice, too nice. nice, stuffy-looking men didn't go for unemployed addicts with kids. he had to have been hiding something. so when he started a load of laundry at the apartment, robby who'd been eleven at the time, had poured bleach down the hatch and ruined all his fancy shirts. the guy was fuming once he found out. a couple of more pranks, and he finally had enough and left them all alone.
he breaks when johnny crosses and then uncrosses his arms, laughing at the sigh in front of him. he only laughs harder when he's told to get it out of his system. it takes him a minute to get it all out, and even then he's still grinning.
"i can't believe you only have one clean shirt." or maybe he could if he takes the time to think about it and his dad's cleaning habits. "maybe this will teach you not to wait until you're completely out of clean clothes before you do your laundry." there's a lesson to be learned here. "just be happy it wasn't bleach. a red sock won't ruin your black band shirts, but bleach would." he's not cruel so he won't mention that fun fact to harper or henry. that way at least some of johnny's clothes will be spared.
the fatherly urge to abandon everybody
Every now and then I think about robby and daniel and proceed to lose it
I feel bad for not being here as much and when I am it's mostly bubble writing. After the show ended and most of the c.k rpc died with it I stopped having as much muse for Robby. These days I mostly only have muse for replies that I have discussed with my writing partners, and most of the time that ends up being on discord. It's harder to be as excited to write when most of the community has moved on

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“Pinch it and lean forward.” theresa
His nose is killing him. He's lucky if it's not broken at this point. It's weird, getting injured outside of karate. This time, he just ate shit while out practicing some new tricks with Danny. He had wanted to cover it up and deal with it on his own, but Theresa had seen it before he'd had the chance to, and wasn't having it.
He's still not used to all the maternal attention he'd sometimes get from her. Truth be told, he's only started getting used to Ryan. Out of the three of them, Danny was the easiest to deal with. Someone his own age, who didn't have any preconceived expectations of him.
He follows her order, pinches his nose, and leans forward. It seems counterintuitive to make it easier for the blood to leave his body. Still, he does what she says. He doesn't really know why, but he trusts her. He thinks he'd still trust her just as much, even if Ryan hadn't been the one to introduce them.
"I'm sorry. I really thought I had it."
which subtle way of saying "i love you" are you?
"you're the exception"
your emotional walls have walls. seriously, you've guarded yourself so well, you sometimes forget how to look over your own walls and see the beauty of the world outside the safety of the protection you've set up. you forget how to escape the confines you built for yourself, that is, but some people (some incredibly rare people) somehow know their way through that intricate maze of walls and thorns around you. they're the exception, and terrifying as it might be at first, you'll let them know eventually. you smile at them where you'd scowl at another. you crack a joke where you'd usually stay quiet. you find yourself opening up more than you'd ever imagined. don't tear your fortress down if you don't want to, but maybe try to build your loved ones a little home inside it instead. you don't have to be alone. you deserve better than being alone in there.
He watches the takedown happen while leaning against the side of the building. It's fun watching his son flourish. One of these days, Henry would be able to outperform him, and he'll welcome the day when it comes, but today he's still a kid who just wants to have fun and copy everything Robby's doing. He wants his son to be allowed to be a kid for as long as possible.
Robby smiles, beaming with pride as @teachespain is taken down by the side tackle. A move that had benched him when he was Henry's age. Apparently, the U-9 division has a ban specifically against slide tackles. Not that it had stopped an eight-year-old Robby Keene from doing it. His dad had only watched a few of his games, but he remembers feeling proud whenever the old man would yell at the referee for him, and even if he was benched, it still kept the ball away from the other team. Well, except for the third time he did it. By then, people had started catching on, and instead of benching him, they gave the opposing team a free kick. Totally unfair.
As long as you're careful about it and do it on grass, it's not even that dangerous. Case in point: his dad getting up right after just now.
He watches the two interact before approaching. His dad is right, the kid needs to work on his stealth work, but for now, that honestly might be a good thing. Henry's wings flopping in the wind was kind of like a cat with a bell on it, only instead of putting it on to protect the neighboring birds, it was to prepare his dad to get his shit rocked.
He ruffles Henry's hair. "You did great, but be careful. Old people have weak bones." He looks right at his dad when he says the last part.
I can run, but I can't hide from my family line
This is weird. So fucking weird, but not in a fully bad way for once. He's gotten too comfortable around @teachespain if he's asking random questions that he puts zero thought into. Robby was genuinely curious about how nonalcoholic beers would mix with his dad, who had made drinking Coors his life for the past decades. He'd seen the label on the bottle his dad was drinking and promptly wondered out loud. Nothing more to it. Except his dad is making it into this whole thing.
He loves the old man, don't get him wrong, and he loves how much he tries these days, but it feels like he's destined to keep obsessing over his own thoughts before he tells them. Before, he would think through retorts, aiming to hurt him as hard as possible, to really drive home how much of a failure he was. Nowadays, it has more to do with making sure his dad doesn't panic or start acting like Robby's fragile. He's not.
"This isn't a thing," he finally reassures once his dad quiets down. "I don't care if you drink nonalcoholic beers, Dad." It feels a bit stupid to admit that the thing that got his dad so riled up was only supposed to be an innocent question. It wasn't supposed to be a thing, but Robby made it one because he didn't think things through, just opened his mouth and let the words blurt out.
He leans against the counter, watching Johnny fidget with the bottle label like it's about to give him the answers to life. Robby wants to laugh, but he doesn't, because it wouldn't come out right. It would sound mean, and this isn't one of those times where he wants to jab at him. "Look, I get why it feels weird sometimes. You've been drinking since… forever. You're not just gonna snap your fingers and feel normal overnight. So if this helps, even a little, then who cares if it looks dumb? I’d rather see you holding one of those than the real deal."
He pauses, running a hand over the back of his neck, because talking like this still doesn't come naturally. It feels like stepping out onto thin ice, waiting for it to crack under him. "And no, it doesn't mess with me. I don't see you drinking that and think, oh great, here we go again. I see you actually trying. Which… I didn’' think I’d ever see, honestly."
Robby glances down at the floor, then back at his dad, who's still doing that thing with his jaw, like every word is a fight to keep from spilling out. He knows that look. He's had it himself, more times than he can count. "You don't have to explain it to me, Dad. I know what it's like, trying to unlearn old habits. You're not an idiot for struggling with it. You're just… human."
The words hang heavier than he expected, but for once, he doesn't take them back. Doesn't soften them with sarcasm or hide them under something sharp. He lets them stand there, between them, and maybe for the first time in years, it doesn't feel like there’s a wall in the way.
This isn't about the O’Doul’s anymore, not really. It's about whether Johnny’s trying too hard or not hard enough, about whether Robby's supposed to treat him like glass or like the screw-up dad he used to be. Neither feels right, not anymore.
Robby shrugs, like it's not a big deal, because it isn't, at least not to him. "This isn't a thing," he says again, more certain this time. "I don't care if you drink them, Dad. It's not like… I don't look at you and think you're about to fall off the wagon or whatever. I just asked because I was curious."
He lets that sit for a second, then softens a little. "Honestly? I think it's kinda cool you can still do the whole beer-with-dinner thing without screwing up your sobriety. If it makes you feel normal, then… good. You deserve that."
The words come out a little awkward, but they're true. He doesn’t want his dad second-guessing every choice like the whole world is waiting for him to screw up. "I'm not keeping score, Dad. You don't have to explain it to me. You're doing fine."

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He doesn't know he had a reaction in mind when he woke his dad up until he hears it, and there it is. The gruff reaction is just like Johnny Lawrence. A few months ago, it would have made him bristle, but he's no longer searching for new reasons to justify his hatred. He knows it's surprise, and that it would wear off as soon as the man gets his bearings.
For someone who's impatiently standing around, ready for his dad to inspect his unwrapped gift, Robby really does play it cool. He makes himself keep a relaxed stance and chases away any insecure thoughts.
He hopes he likes it, but he's not going to make a big deal out of it if he doesn't. Sure, it was expensive, and he had used his own money this time, despite Ethan's abundance (this gift is from him - he could afford to buy something nice for once). He still isn't going to behave like some kid who got his feelings hurt over it. He could play it off like it didn't mean anything if he had to. His mom had taught him how to lie and make people believe it when he was four, and he's had plenty of practice since.
It becomes harder to maintain his resolve when his dad takes his sweet time inspecting the gift. Maybe the message about meeting in the middle had been a little too cheesy, or maybe he shouldn't have come here this early.
The music calms him down. It's always been his refuge, no matter the style of it. Mötley Crüe reminds him of when he was younger and having one of his rare good days with his dad. His mom had to go out of town, and she had dumped him on Johnny's doorstep before he had a chance to turn down the offer of father-son bonding. His dad had talked to him about music and movies. For years, Robby kept this box of things belonging to his dad in case he ever wanted them back, not that he ever offered. It held a Mötley Crüe cassette tape that he could only play in Uncle Dutch's old car, an Iron Eagle VCR that he would play over and over whenever he missed his dad, two ticket stubs from that time they went to the movies, and the green army men he got for his birthday one year. He kept it up until his mom had to retire from dancing when he was thirteen, and they had to move to an even smaller apartment. By then, he was resentful and didn't care for any reminders of his dad's absence. The box had been dumped out back at their old address.
It takes Johnny speaking up to break him out of his thought process.
He tilts his head to the side, a surefire sign that he was listening intently. He barely knows anything about his grandmother, and even less about his grandfather. For all he knows, his dad's parents had died, and his mom had gone no contact with hers. So far, he was doing better in that department than either of them. That's why he was doing this. For as long as he can remember, people have been comparing him to his parents, especially his dad, and while he loved them both, he doesn't want to end up like either of them. He doesn't want to live with the regret of not trying to connect with his dad.
It hits him hard, hearing his dad talk about being abandoned by his own dad. Robby doesn't know what to do with that. Doesn't know how he feels about yet another tragic similarity between the two of them. Definitely doesn't know what to do with himself when his dad points out the effort he had put into all of this. Most of him is happy because his dad likes his gift, and he lets that overpower the rest of his insecurities.
A small smile tugs on his face. He sits down on the edge of his dad's bed, and not knowing what else to do, he hugs him. This is the first time he's hugged his dad since that night after the All Valley Tournament. There are no tears this time, but if they keep it up, there might be.
"I love you, Dad."
Miguel blinks at Robby, his jaw working like he wants to say something but can't quite settle on the right words. "Okay, hold on—you're telling me Wade, Vanessa, and your dad are… dating?" He lets out a half-laugh, shaking his head in disbelief, curls bouncing with the movement. "That's—wow, that's like… the world's weirdest family tree." His grin falters just a little, enough to show he isn't just joking. "Uh, sorry—I don't mean it in a bad way. Just… are you cool with that? 'Cause, man, that's a lot.”
He's glaring daggers at Miguel before he's even finished the question, and his stare becomes downright murderous after the half-laugh. Robby hates this, actually, thanks for asking. His dad just had to go date the parents of his boyfriend. He's already dated Carmen once; was he trying to fill a fucking quota? "No, I'm not cool with that." There's a bunch of single people out there, and he had to pick them? No, definitely not cool. "I hate this." Johnny Lawrence, count your days.
[ write ] sender writes receiver a note ( but it's the note johnny wrote to robby in s1 )
He finds the note not long after he decides to move in with his dad. He's finally transferring his clothes from bags to drawers, and that's where it lies, stuck between the inner board and the sides. A piece of paper covered in dust. He's going to have to vacuum the shit out of the entire room at some point. Right now is not that point.
He doesn't recognize the handwriting at first, but when he starts reading, it becomes obvious who wrote it and that it was addressed to him.
Dear Robby, I know you refuse to answer my calls, and I refuse to text or email, so I'm going old school by writing this letter.
That's... one way to start things off. He's curious as to why his dad never sent it, why it was left in a drawer for him to find. How long had it been since he'd written it? Did he want to know?
I've done a lot of thinking lately and realized just how much I screwed up my life. My biggest screwup is my relationship with you. I know I can't change the past, but if you give me the chance
It starts getting good, he starts getting a new view into his dad's brain, and then it just ends. Why? Why write a letter and keep it if he wasn't going to give it to Robby or even finish it in the first place? He's left with so many unanswered questions, and he knows there's only one person who could answer them.
His dad is on the couch in the living room when he comes storming out, throwing the note onto the table in front of him. He stares down at the man, waiting for an answer or even recognition.
It's the old man's first birthday since they reconciled. the first time when his gifts won't be disrupted by his parents arguing or @teachespain being too drunk to be around. He remembers being five and spending hours on a drawing for his dad's birthday, only for him to never show up to pick him or his picture up from his mom's. His uncle Bobby had shown up two days later to babysit him and promised to deliver it to his dad. His uncle was good like that. He didn't fill the father gap in his life, but he was a calming presence, as were his husband and wife.
This time, a drawing wasn't going to cut it. He had to step up. Despite Johnny having been the one to abandon him, Robby still feels like he has years to make up for.
He eventually settled on a cassette player and a mixtape filled with some songs he knew his dad already liked, as well as some rock bands he liked. Maybe it could help bridge the gap between their music tastes. At the end, he ends up with a mix consisting mostly of Mötley Crüe, Ratt, The Smashing Pumpkins, and Tool. There's a small handwritten message on the back coupled with a small doodle of a lightning bolt, because he's nostalgic at heart.
Didn’t know what else to get you. Side A’s your stuff, side B’s mine. Figured we could meet in the middle. Happy birthday, Dad.
He knows his dad loves the '80s, but not if he still has a working player, so a Walkman seemed like a good idea. Hopefully, it won't all be too cheesy.
He'd left Ethan's side early that morning to go deliver his gift. He still technically lived with his dad, but he spent most of his time at his boyfriend's apartment. He used his key to gain access to his dad's place. He checks the kitchen, living room, and bathroom. Nothing. Before giving up, he finally opens his dad's bedroom door. Ugh. Robby didn't exactly plan on showing up at too fucking early to be awake o'clock, but his dad could at least be awake early enough to receive his gift.
He shakes the man's shoulder before dumping the gifts flat on his chest, cassette already in the player. "Morning."
i was healthy my whole life. ⸻ until i wasn’t. and for the last year, i’ve had a lot of time to lay around in my bed & think about my life: and the things i remember best? well, those are the things that i wasn’t supposed to do [...] and i did 'em anyway. so, the thing is? life is too damn short to be following all these rules.

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beep beep how’s my portrayal ?
THERE’S A STRONG SENSE OF NOSTALGIA TO BE FOUND FROM WATCHING THE ALL VALLEY GET UNDERWAY. ⸻ both good and bad. it felt like only yesterday he was out on that mat himself, full of the same determination and 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚗 that he now sees in robby. hard to believe it had actually been thirty - something ( almost forty ) years. it all felt so important back then; like becoming 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐨𝐧 was the only thing in the world that mattered. how quickly life taught him otherwise. getting older provided him a wisdom that felt damn - near impossible to find as a teen, but that doesn’t stop him still bursting with 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎 when his most - recent foster kid is awarded the winning point. denny can hear the caution in audience’s celebration as kenny flees stage exit left and he’s already rising to his feet, even while finger & thumb press to mouth to break silence with a loud whistle, to head over. partly to congratulate, partly to check - in. " hey, kid. nice moves out there. " gentle hand settles on the other’s shoulder and he guides them a few steps away from cobra kai crowd ⸻ but not before head bows ( from former student to former sensei ) 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 in john kreese’s direction. the man still stands with such 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗱𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 presence, no matter how much time has passed. no wonder these kids strive so hard to conquer tournament. attention turns back to robby once they’re at a safer distance, offering an encouraging smile. " how you doing? ⸻ you good? kenny good? i saw you wanting to go after him. "
@taughtpain : liked for a starter.
he regrets not pulling his punches or kicks the second he sees kenny run off. he could've gotten his last point without humiliating the kid. robby's ready to run on after him when tory gets in his way. she's telling him to give him space, but he doesn't have time to think about it before he hears a loud whistle cut through the overwhelming sound of the crowd. all the voices talking over each other and reducing into one big dull sound quieted down for a moment.
he turns to face the noise. nothing could've prepared him to see his foster carer stomping his way down to the mats. when did his life get so fucking weird? the karate war was one thing, being called on like he's cattle was another. still, he rises to the attention and schools his face when the old man approaches him.
robby's ready for him to hear all about the kick and how it was dumb when instead he feels a hand on his shoulder that guides him off to the side. denny's nothing like any other adult he's ever met. he's the only one besides kreese or silver that would congratulate him for that move.
"i kicked him in the face i doubt he's good." why is denny asking him how he's doing? why does he care?