Today's Document
Xuebing Du
oozey mess
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Love Begins
KIROKAZE
dirt enthusiast
RMH
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Product Placement
Not today Justin
titsay
⁂
Kaledo Art
Game of Thrones Daily
d e v o n
No title available
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Misplaced Lens Cap
if i look back, i am lost
seen from Canada
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seen from United States
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seen from Belarus
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Croatia
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seen from Malaysia
seen from Switzerland
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@bluemantics
navigation! ✧
CURRENT PROJECTS:
- MOSTLY INACTIVE FOR TRAVEL
writing Stray, a long keith-centric klance fic (#stray vld)
my ao3 | my tumblr ficlets | my insta
here is a masterlist of my fics
sideblog for reposts/bts: @bluemanticism
#walk with me klance all things about walk with me (my postcanon kl fic)!
#julance2025 for all my julance pieces/content!
PLEASE feel free to interact, leave asks (hcs, ideas, anything), etc. I love to meet people and talk writing & vld
A late WIP Wednesday!
Stray is a fic about Keith Kogane, his place in the universe, and all the love and affection annoying teammates have to offer.
The woods feel alive.
Heed us, heed us, heed us.
Keith never felt worthy of his armor, not since the day Shiro bestowed it upon him, cape flowing behind him on ever-present winds of glory. His smile had been beaming, that day, prideful and sure.
Heed us, heed us, heed us.
Its metal taunts him, now. Every shink is damning. The weight of the blade at his hip feels leaden. When he breathes out, he wonders if the mist coming from his mouth is imagined.
Heed us.
It sounds like his father, like Shiro, like Pidge and Lance and Hunk. Like an unknown woman, her voice strong and gentle in comforting opposites.
Heed us, Keith Kogane.
Something is brewing.
Happy WIP Wednesday! Stray Chapter 2 is officially in the works.
Thanks so much for 500 kudos on Walk With Me 💗💗
I can’t believe that fic is almost a year old already! Time flies when you’re writing the same two dumbasses over and over <3
Apparently while I’ve been inactive I hit 900 followers???? Guys I’m literally so grateful 🥹🙏 I can’t wait to come back after my abroad experience with a whole HOST of new inspiration (maybe even a travel fic? Who knows…)
Thanks a billion always 💗💗
(Also if I ever reach 1k I’m probably gonna drop like a whole new project to celebrate that. Because holy shit. What is life??)
Smoke curls around Keith’s dirty sneakers. It whispers as it trails its way up, up, up. He inhales, and it returns into his chest, grey and rough against his lungs.
Hey, man, that’s not good for you.
“I have no reason to stop.” Keith shrugs. His lips curl at the taste, but he sucks in again, lets ash and numbness spread to his humming brain.
What about me?
“What about you? You left.”
The sun is too bright. It’s rare, these days, that Keith stays awake during the day. Shiro keeps despairing at his nocturnal schedule. Every argument about it sounds tired, and yet, Keith is still here. In an empty field. During the daytime.
Grass pushes against the wind, stirring around his knees.
I thought that was your job. Leaving, I mean.
“Shut the fuck up.” He can’t muster the energy to sound like he means it.
I don’t think our chats are good for you, anymore.
Keith blinks, panic suddenly seizing him. He spins around, hands clenching around nothing. Desperately, his eyes look for a lifeline, coming up empty.
“You don’t mean that.”
For once, I think I know exactly what I mean, Keith.
“I— I want you to stay.”
Didn’t we cover this, already?
Keith shoves the cigarette into the ground, uncaring of the soil that dirties his hands. Now, he’s filled with a tension even the nicotine can’t loose, his muscles all coiled and his teeth tingling with an unnameable feeling.
“Fuck off. I don’t need this anyways. I don’t need anything. So fuck off, and stop pretending like you leaving is some painful shit you’re doing to me. Cause it’s not. I’m fine.”
You sound totally fine.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Keith roars.
Miraculously, silence answers him. Quiet, save for the too-loud sun and the noisy wind and the grasses that practically shout.
Keith grabs the box out of his pocket and plucks out another cigarette. With shaking, muddied hands, he lights it up and lets it flare with small embers for a few beats.
He takes one half-drag before he stomps that one out, too.
God, he’s tired.
Maybe it’s time for a nap.
Hey guys!
I hope you’ve been doing well. I apologize for literally vanishing and ghosting the internet— honestly, I got very overwhelmed recently by my real life. Moving abroad for a few months has been hectic in all the best and worst ways. I’ve been traveling lots, getting sick, and I’ve also been working through some mental health and anxiety challenges that come with all those things.
I’ll be back eventually! But for now, I’m focusing on my brain, my experience abroad, and applying for internships.
Miss yall loads 💗
LAST DAY TO REQUEST A COMMISSION!!! Anyone chosen will be emailed within the next week :-)
Also I always see you in the comments of fics I end up loving so I am kindly asking for fic recs
Hey….heh…only took me checks watch ten months-I mean minutes…to respond to this…yeah
Luckily I’ve amassed some amazing recs in that time!!
Ongoing Fics (They def will be completed trust):
Stray by bluemantics/@bluemanticism
You’re in for a ride for this fic. That’s what I’m telling you. This fic starts off with a BANG!! It’s crazy the author is sooooo descriptive and it’s one of those fics where every detail counts. I’m sitting here squinting at the screen like it’s gonna give me hints. Crazy.
escape velocity by existwound/@existwound
Fic of the year or something. Sooo much storytelling and emotions and parallels. I feel so moved by this fic. It makes me wanna do push ups (good thing)!! Read it now.
Say Your Piece and Let It Linger by StillKicking/@still--kicking
This fic has TWISTS AND TURNS!! It’s such a cute birthday fic!…but there’s something deeper going on…hmmm….AAAHAHGS. WHAT IS IT I NEED TO KNOWWWWWW!!! <- this is a demonstration of how you feel when you read this fic.
Part Time Soulmate, Full Time Problem by StillKicking/@still--kicking
Oh…what’s this? Recc-ing StillKicking twice in a row? YEAH CUZ THEIR FICS BE BALLING BRO. THEY BE KICKING (did you get the joke). This is like the soulmate fic. Ever. Across alllll fandoms like idc she invented soulmates. And klance. Yeah. Nonchalantly nods.
What’s Your Type, Mullet? by appapapa
Read all of this last nite bc im insane ab it and its sooo good. Slow burn!! SO much yearning. These boys love each other. I’m clicking my heels together and doing a handstand.
Finished Fics:
Runnin' Back To You by theoriginalriffles/@theoriginalriffles
No one should know how many times I reread this fic. This is a post canon beauty idk how the author does it. I’m so so crazy. What the freak. This fic lowk about me the way I be running back to it.
Tangled by KeithyKeefers
What a BEAUTIFUL one shot that peers into lance’s soul with a microscope. I Love soulmate au. I legit can’t say more w/o spoiling my lips are shut go reaaad!
Come Back to Me, Baby by truelovetakesawhile
DO NOT BE DETERRED BY THE MCD this fic is not a tragedy!! Lotta angst but the summary should explain it. Fulfilling and bittersweet ending. Very philosophical fic. Makes you THINK. I love it so dearly.
kiss me thru the phone by dumdum69
This author has the largest vocabulary ever genuinely they themselves might be oxford dictionary. I be dropping everything to read this fic the way the author drops banger bars every other line. And this fic is sooo funny it cracks me the fuck up.
been living in a lonesome galaxy by Katranga/@katranga
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. AAAAAAA-
Love in Motion by Riceisgood123/@riceisgood123
Okay whateva its an ongoing series buuut it has finished parts! That I am OBSESSED with. I think about this fic a little TOO much. Thank you Ella for bringing me enlightenment (dming me this fic).
close to you by hearttpoem/@hearttpoem
This list isn’t complete without a hearttpoem fic! Genuinely the best fluff out there. Makes my heart feel whole. Guess that’s why they call you HEARTtpoem. This fic is just sooooo sweet and like nice and like. I’m literally smiling writing this stop wtf.
Also….there’s this STRANGE author named AsterikaMay…yeah idk her she’s kinda weird but she’s writing A Little Death, where Keith gets really sick and hallucinates and needs Lance to feel better (she’s such a freak omg), and she’s also writing No Place is Home, where Lance comes home from the war to find out his twin sister Rachel is dead. Yeah…heard she’s finishing these fics…
THANK YOU SM FOR THE SUPPORT AAAH!!! I love you bro 🫶
serious question have u gotten any klance comms yet
Yep!! I’m so excited to message people after the form closes, the ideas so far are wonderful :-)
Why do you ask?
BIG NEWS: KLANCE FIC COMMS COMING YOUR WAY!
REQUESTS OPEN IN 2 DAYS, when I will reblog this post with the form link.
A few extra notes:
Payment will be primarily done via Venmo. *PayPal is available for longstanding/close mutuals ONLY.
This will likely be the cheapest round of commissions I offer! In the future, I’ll probably raise them once I’m used to the process.
Feel free to get creative!!!
REQUESTS ARE OFFICIALLY OPEN!! Forms are due JANUARY 16th at 11:59 PM. Again, this is not first-come, first-served. Feel free to take your time filling this out! You will NOT be penalized for it.
Keith’s hands hold Lance’s face between them, the scars on his palms stamping their patterns over Lance’s skin. He can’t remember a time when he’s ever wanted to be so gentle, so cautious, with anything he held.
He holds Lance, and he is gentle.
There’s a glimmer of knowing in Lance’s deep blue eyes. It’s strange; for all the parading and strutting he does, Lance always seems to keep certain things for himself. They peek through when he gazes into Keith’s mind, silently shining.
Lance rests a hand on Keith’s wrist. The rough slide of his calloused index finger on its bone is enough to break Keith, even as it moves delicately and slowly. 
In his tender, methodical reverence, Lance tears Keith open and makes him anew.
Still watching him from under dark lashes, Lance tilts his head just slightly. He presses his lips into the thin lines that mark Keith’s palm, butterfly-soft and fleeting.
“You’ll come back.”
A prayer more than a promise.
Keith doesn’t answer. He doesn’t try to fool himself that he is deserving of this sweet, maybe even loving touch. This isn’t what he was honed for, sharpened for, made for.
With a last, lingering look, Keith draws his hands back and turns toward battle.
hello hiii!!! ive followed you for YEARS, like genuinely u keep pulling me back into my klance obsession. ur writing is so captivating, and i’ve like talked about that to my partner many times 😭😭 i was wondering if you could please rec a few of ur favorite kl fics!!! like ones that had you thinking ab them for dayssss after
thank you!! insane to me that people are still reading klance after so many years!
ouuguguh I'm so bad at recs cause I don't get a lot of time to read fics BUT:
☾ Scar by iybms (3.8k)
short, sweet, makes me physically ill to my stomach. I dream of making people feel the way this makes me feel
☾ A Million Miles Between Us by existwound (65k)
i adore watching keith get absolutely blended and no one blends him up better than existwound. what more can i say
☾ Terminal Velocity by Speaks (26k)
i've recommended this before but it has me thinking about it YEARS on. violence! and the crowd cheers
☾ Other by Tango_Dancer (11k)
this is my dirty laundry, if dirty laundry was completely different and 11k and made me feverish. this is the version of lance's family that i will EAT UP
☾ Ricochet by bluemantics (23k)
love a good collection of fics all building up to something ooouughhhh i love it. prequel to Walk With Me, which sits within my to do list
☾ Closer (I love you or I want to, but I don't know how) by Riceisgood123 (12k)
this characterization of keith and lance makes me wild
haven't read but ooooooh ouuuugh they're on my list:
☾ A Little Death by AsterikaMay
throw! that guy (keith kogane)! around!
☾ None Walk the Earth by honeyspeeches
mmmmmm canon divergence. love this brand of lance
☾ stabbed stars blue by fawnface
permanent injury say no more
Europa I adore you so very much it is INCOMPREHENSIBLE!!! Thank you for recommending Ricochet it is so dear to me 🥹🫶 you’re the best dude
BIG NEWS: KLANCE FIC COMMS COMING YOUR WAY!
REQUESTS OPEN IN 2 DAYS, when I will reblog this post with the form link.
A few extra notes:
Payment will be primarily done via Venmo. *PayPal is available for longstanding/close mutuals ONLY.
This will likely be the cheapest round of commissions I offer! In the future, I’ll probably raise them once I’m used to the process.
Feel free to get creative!!!
When Lance was young, really really little, he fell in love with stories.
His mother would squish up beside him in his twin bed, an arm curled around his back in a way that was somehow secure and cozy at the same time. Back then, they both could fit on that rickety bed with no problem, the star stickers in his room always glowing softly above them in the dim light. Maria would pull a book from his nightstand and flip it open to whichever chapter they were currently on.
“Do you remember what happened last time?” She’d ask, a manicured nail pressed gently to the big header with its number displayed in bold. He always remembered.
Then, without further preamble, she’d begin. Looking back, Lance wasn’t sure which was more captivating: Maria, doing all the voices with the dedication of a professional, or the words, which spun in mountains and rivers and battles and life and death above their heads. He drank it in greedily, and always begged for another page when she reached the chapter’s end.
“It’s time for you to sleep, my heart,” she’d laugh, tucking him in tightly so he couldn’t think to break free and read ahead.
Then, years later, Lance discovered the joy of reading himself. A book in his hands felt heavy, somehow, filled with endless possibilities and disappointments. Most of all, it felt like an escape. A door.
A long, long day of poring over math that made no sense meant an even longer afternoon spent sifting through fantastic images of dragons and magic.
A bad run-in with a bully who called him “stupid” and his ears “freakish” meant eagerly delving into a world of detectives fighting crime and wishing he had their long, dramatic jackets. He wanted that armor.
A fight between him and Rachel meant exploring the deep reaches of space in a book, adventuring across galaxies and planets, which of course led to him discovering the Garrison and Shiro.
Books took him everywhere that his life could not. They made him into a person he could never be. Even if his mother begged him to leave them at home—Lance, you shouldn’t read at the restaurant—he just couldn’t help it. Within those pages, Lance could be anything: a pirate burying treasure to be lost forever, a swordsman dedicated to his craft, a prince rescuing his kingdom from evil. Lance could be bigger than himself. A hero, even.
Maybe it was silly. Rachel definitely thought so, despite the fact that she consumed endless romance books. One time, she called him a nerd, and they wrestled until Maria had to force them apart.
“Lance,” she told him, her hands comforting and sure on his shoulders as they always were. “You’ve always been a dreamer. Don’t listen to your sister; she’s just teasing.”
So Lance kept dreaming. He dreamt so hard and so much that he somehow landed a spot at the Garrison, and sure, cargo pilot wasn’t ideal, but that made him an underdog. All heroes were underdogs at some point. At night, after ritualistic humiliation and failure in front of Iverson’s eyes, there were always the books to remind him what he fought for, why he kept waking up.
They promised more every time.
And when Lance sat in Blue, he thought, this is more. This is what it means to be chosen.
War was not like his fantasies. Or perhaps, Lance wasn’t like his imagination. Darkness crept in quickly, wrapped its tendrils around his ankles and tugged down, down, down. He did not hail their victories for long, not when he knew their cost and sacrifices.
Do you feel like a hero, now? A voice taunted him as he lit a fire in a Galra ship’s engine room.
Do you feel like a hero, now? A child screamed as he walked into their cabin, her hands reddened and blistered from some enemy gas.
Do you feel like a hero, Lance?
It’d be better if he couldn’t feel at all. The pressing shame. The constant fear. The homesickness and loneliness and heartache.
And, when he could admit it to himself, the disappointment. That this wasn’t what he’d expected. That he could have been made for a greater purpose. If anything, he felt more like a cog in a machine than a man.
He was right about one thing, as a kid: Shiro was a hero. And so was Keith, his ever-faithful loyal shadow, following right in his footsteps.
Now, though, Lance couldn’t keep pretending. Maybe he was a hero, in some other life, in some other pages. In this story, though?
He’d be lucky if he made it to the glorious, shining end.
When Lance was young, really really little, he fell in love with stories.
His mother would squish up beside him in his twin bed, an arm curled around his back in a way that was somehow secure and cozy at the same time. Back then, they both could fit on that rickety bed with no problem, the star stickers in his room always glowing softly above them in the dim light. Maria would pull a book from his nightstand and flip it open to whichever chapter they were currently on.
“Do you remember what happened last time?” She’d ask, a manicured nail pressed gently to the big header with its number displayed in bold. He always remembered.
Then, without further preamble, she’d begin. Looking back, Lance wasn’t sure which was more captivating: Maria, doing all the voices with the dedication of a professional, or the words, which spun in mountains and rivers and battles and life and death above their heads. He drank it in greedily, and always begged for another page when she reached the chapter’s end.
“It’s time for you to sleep, my heart,” she’d laugh, tucking him in tightly so he couldn’t think to break free and read ahead.
Then, years later, Lance discovered the joy of reading himself. A book in his hands felt heavy, somehow, filled with endless possibilities and disappointments. Most of all, it felt like an escape. A door.
A long, long day of poring over math that made no sense meant an even longer afternoon spent sifting through fantastic images of dragons and magic.
A bad run-in with a bully who called him “stupid” and his ears “freakish” meant eagerly delving into a world of detectives fighting crime and wishing he had their long, dramatic jackets. He wanted that armor.
A fight between him and Rachel meant exploring the deep reaches of space in a book, adventuring across galaxies and planets, which of course led to him discovering the Garrison and Shiro.
Books took him everywhere that his life could not. They made him into a person he could never be. Even if his mother begged him to leave them at home—Lance, you shouldn’t read at the restaurant—he just couldn’t help it. Within those pages, Lance could be anything: a pirate burying treasure to be lost forever, a swordsman dedicated to his craft, a prince rescuing his kingdom from evil. Lance could be bigger than himself. A hero, even.
Maybe it was silly. Rachel definitely thought so, despite the fact that she consumed endless romance books. One time, she called him a nerd, and they wrestled until Maria had to force them apart.
“Lance,” she told him, her hands comforting and sure on his shoulders as they always were. “You’ve always been a dreamer. Don’t listen to your sister; she’s just teasing.”
So Lance kept dreaming. He dreamt so hard and so much that he somehow landed a spot at the Garrison, and sure, cargo pilot wasn’t ideal, but that made him an underdog. All heroes were underdogs at some point. At night, after ritualistic humiliation and failure in front of Iverson’s eyes, there were always the books to remind him what he fought for, why he kept waking up.
They promised more every time.
And when Lance sat in Blue, he thought, this is more. This is what it means to be chosen.
War was not like his fantasies. Or perhaps, Lance wasn’t like his imagination. Darkness crept in quickly, wrapped its tendrils around his ankles and tugged down, down, down. He did not hail their victories for long, not when he knew their cost and sacrifices.
Do you feel like a hero, now? A voice taunted him as he lit a fire in a Galra ship’s engine room.
Do you feel like a hero, now? A child screamed as he walked into their cabin, her hands reddened and blistered from some enemy gas.
Do you feel like a hero, Lance?
It’d be better if he couldn’t feel at all. The pressing shame. The constant fear. The homesickness and loneliness and heartache.
And, when he could admit it to himself, the disappointment. That this wasn’t what he’d expected. That he could have been made for a greater purpose. If anything, he felt more like a cog in a machine than a man.
He was right about one thing, as a kid: Shiro was a hero. And so was Keith, his ever-faithful loyal shadow, following right in his footsteps.
Now, though, Lance couldn’t keep pretending. Maybe he was a hero, in some other life, in some other pages. In this story, though?
He’d be lucky if he made it to the glorious, shining end.
here was my gift drawing to @bluemantics as apart of the hivemind secret santa!! go read “Stray” 🫵🫵 for more cowboy klance content
GUYS IM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS ART. I CANNOT. This is canon Stray actually 💖 THANK YOU PHEEBS
