#this is a thing the brain does automatically

[elodieunderglass]

Thank you so much for sending me this, @quandocoeli ! All very cool!

An interesting question: how much do horses help? There are situations (long-haul hikes) where they’re sort of as much of a liability as a help. They really walk at Human Speed, or close to it, and horses weirdly have less stamina over long hauls than humans do. I don’t think a lot of fantasy authors realise this. If you spend time around horses, you will realise it, though.

Human and horse walking speeds match very nicely.

Horses will walk for about as many hours a day as we do (about six-ish, especially if it’s day after day after day, I.e. long travel.)

You can go at faster gaits on a horse. They trot (similar to our jogging) canter (running lightly) and gallop (running fast.) they do not do this for long trav. you might get a horse to trot on and off all day, but would not, not even a little bit, trot from the Shire to Mordor.

If you push too hard and knacker your horse, you have to rest them.

Quite a lot of human history, from military to economic, has been about Dragging the Horses Around.

Anyway, a walking horse goes like 4mph. That’s on Google maps already. Pick the Walking route. It’s the same thing.

But that’s the automatic “it would take an hour for both myself and a horse, or myself ON the horse, to walk 4 miles” answer. Writers who are interested in the problem are probably picturing something slightly more plot-relevant than walking to the gas station for scratch tickets and an Arizona Iced Tea.

I was interested to know if this could connect and hold true in terms of a long-term travel - say, a LotR-esque quest over weeks and different terrains - and thanksfully, I have a relevant interest to hand. Once again, the Camino de Santiago.

today, you may complete the Camino de Santiago on foot or on horseback. There are many horse rental agencies. A reasonable middle of the road pace suggested by one is: Riding between 25-35 km for 6-7 hours a day (normal mode). Various routes include terrain like mountains and plains; they presume you’ll largely camp. You are not allowed to run the horse into the ground (they will get mad at you) and a pilgrimage should be an amble, not a march. Plus, it’s hot in Spain and there are mountains; you’re going to be mooching and drinking water to survive this six-week hike.

but like I said: a keen math-brained person will note that this is basically human walking speed. It’s also about the time walked and distance covered by the human-only hikers. This strongly suggests that experienced horse-rental long-haul pilgrims don’t break above a walk, or do so very infrequently to maintain the average speed. and certainly aren’t cantering the whole Camino.

(This is definitely a modern company being mindful of horse welfare, although pragmatic animal welfare probably doesn’t stray too far from pragmatic medieval people not wanting to kill their horse. But is also the far more immediate concern that 6 hours in a day about as long as an average human wants to be on an average horse. Like, cattle drives are the outliers.)

You’ll see that the matches up to the second post. The horse in the Finnish expedition went about 20 miles a day, which is at the top end of the human Camino pilgrim and about what a Camino horse does, but heat/hydration is a major consideration on the Camino and probably less of a worry in Finland. 20 miles a day at 4 mph is 5 hours of riding on flat perfect ground and wrinkles if you need to add hills and hydration.

As the pilgrimage has thousands of pilgrims per year and excellent travel records going back to the medieval era, it would be really interesting to work out if this is a “fast” or “slow” estimation of horseback travel by fantasy standards. Are we being nicer to horses? Did medieval horsemen make them walk 10 hours a day? Has better diet and better understanding of fitness/gear sped up humans or given us more stamina? Do roads make a difference? There are a million considerations. If any of them are helpful in your novel, there is a very well-documented horse/human walking route across Spain in which medieval records can be compared directly to 2025 forum posts - a very rich seam, if you know what your question is!

But in general, especially for long journeys over many days, human walking speed on google maps is actually a surprisingly good rule of thumb for horse walking speed.

They should add "On Horseback" option to Google Maps. For writers.

[your-messiah]

speaking of 'having lack of empathy' positivity posts. most of those posts are mostly aimed at people who do not experience cognitive empathy. so, i want to take it a step further.

shout out to people who do not experience emotional empathy, either. shout out to people who don't experience sympathy, or even compassion.

not experiencing those things does not automatically make you a bad person. it does not mean you're going to go and be abusive or whatever people are going to accuse you of. it also doesn't mean you don't know right from wrong. it's not a 'moral failing' on your behalf just because your brain works differently and processes emotions differently from others. don't let people who don't even personally know in the slightest you tell or convince you otherwise.

[queenofhalloween94]

Master List: CTB Ch List

Ch 5 Summary: Han takes over Y/n's house and the love of her cat Luna, while Changbin tries not to explode from feeling awkward. **no cat allergies in this au**

Warnings:🔞 read at your own risk, smutty things happen eventually, tons of angst, shifters shifting forms

City Heat, Wild Hearts

By the time you make it back to your apartment building, the sun is high, the city buzzing again—cars honking, dogs barking, someone shouting at a delivery guy down the block. The hum of normal life feels surreal after the quiet woods, like waking up in a life that doesn’t quite fit anymore.

Your legs ache. Your brain’s still half-fried from tequila and adrenaline.

But you're home. Somehow. You pause at your door, fingers wrapped around the keys.

Changbin stands just behind you, sweat clinging to the edge of his borrowed hoodie, dark hair sticking slightly to his forehead. He feels big. Solid. Like he could block the whole world if you asked.

Han is still in squirrel form, riding your shoulder like a little woodland monarch, his tail flicking every time something new catches his attention.

"You two want to come in?" you ask before you can second-guess it. "It's hot. I’ve got… Gatorade, I think."

Changbin blinks. “Are you sure?”

“No,” you admit. “But I don’t feel like being alone right now.”

He nods once, quietly grateful.

You unlock the door.

Han’s off your shoulder before you even take two steps inside. “Whoa!” he squeaks, bouncing to the floor and immediately racing under your coffee table. “This place is awesome ! Look at all the corners! And the soft things! He dives into your blanket pile on the couch.

“Han, don’t touch anything,” Changbin says automatically as he shuts the door behind him.

You gesture toward the couch. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab drinks.”

Changbin hesitates, then sits slowly—knees wide, hands resting on his thighs, posture too straight for someone trying to relax. You watch the way the hoodie clings to his chest when he moves, the way his legs plant like he’s bracing for danger in the form of throw pillows and decorative mugs. It’s… kind of endearing.

You pull open the fridge and grab two cold Gatorades—one blue, one orange—then walk them back out.

He takes the blue one with a quiet thanks, eyes following Han, who’s now somehow climbing your bookshelf in squirrel form like he’s mapping out potential hideouts.

“Does he do this a lot?” you ask, cracking your own bottle.

“Yes.”

“No!” Han shouts from the second shelf. “This is special ! She’s got scented candles and a lava lamp!”

Changbin takes a long drink, then sighs, leaning back into the cushions. “Sorry about him.”

“I think he’s my favorite already,” you say before thinking.

Changbin arches a brow at you. “Already? Not me?”

You shrug, sipping your Gatorade. “I mean… I didn’t not snuggle you as a bear. It’d be weird to pretend that didn’t happen. So you're already considered a favorite.”

His ears go pink. You pretend not to notice.

“Your place smells good,” Han chirps, now lying dramatically across your desk like a tiny fainting Victorian widow. “You have jasmine shampoo. And laundry sheets. And sadness.”

You choke. “Excuse me?”

Changbin groans. “Han.”

“I’m just saying! It’s not bad sadness. It’s like… lonely sadness. The kind that hangs out in mugs and blankets. You’ve got the kind of apartment people try to make cozy because the silence gets too loud.”

You stare at him.

He shrugs. Or, well, it looks like a squirrel shrugging. “I notice things.”

You glance at Changbin.

“I can kick him out.”

“I’d like to see you try, ” Han says.

You laugh—an actual, startled laugh. And the sound of it makes something in Changbin relax . His shoulders loosen just a bit, his jaw unclenching. He leans back farther on the couch, watching you with warm, curious eyes.

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

You nod. “Yeah. I think I am. Still confused. Still processing. But… okay.”

He nods, like he understands exactly what kind of “okay” that is.

You sip your drink. “So… about the mate thing.”

His eyes flick up to yours, careful. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“No, I want to,” you say, voice softer now. “I mean… It's a lot. But you’ve been patient. I can tell you didn’t expect this either.”

His gaze drops, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not even a little.”

“Did you want one?”

His head tilts.

“A mate, I mean.”

He’s quiet for a long moment. “I didn’t think I’d get one.”

You nod slowly, heart beating faster for reasons you don’t fully understand.

Han—thankfully—doesn’t interrupt.

You glance down at your lap, unsure of what to say next.

But Changbin beats you to it. “Can I see you again?” he asks gently. “Even if it’s just… this. Gatorade and Han wrecking your shelves.”

You glance at the squirrel—who is, indeed, tugging one of your fake vines off a high shelf—and snort. “Yeah,” you say quietly. “You can see me again.”

🐻🐺🐻🐺🐻🐺🐻🐺

You’re still perched on the arm of the couch when it happens. There’s a rustling sound from the hallway—soft, deliberate—and then a familiar shape emerges from the shadows like a tiny queen surveying her kingdom.

Luna. Your cat.

Medium gray fur, soft as clouds. Wide yellow eyes narrowed in judgment. Tail swishing in that exact way that says, this is my domain and you are guests in it.

“Oh no,” you whisper.

Too late. Han goes completely feral. Still in squirrel form, he freezes mid-paw on your bookshelf, pupils dilating like he’s just seen the face of a celebrity.

“Is that a cat ?” he squeaks, voice shrill with excitement. “ You have a CAT?! ”

Luna pauses, giving the squirrel a slow, unimpressed blink.

“Han,” Changbin warns.

Han drops like a missile from the shelf, lands on the floor, skitters across the rug, and plants himself five inches from Luna’s face, tail flicking like a metronome. “Oh my god you’re fluffy ! You have toe beans! Look at your whiskers—LOOK AT HER WHISKERS, Binnie—”

Luna hisses.

Han chirps. “She speaks! ”

Changbin groans from the couch. “Please tell me your cat doesn’t maul woodland creatures.”

“She’s indoor-only,” you say, too stunned to intervene. “She’s… usually fine.”

Luna narrows her eyes and lets out a low, rumbling growl.

Han doesn’t move. He bows.

Luna, stunned, sniffs him once. Then—apparently deciding this ridiculous tiny animal isn’t worth her time—she struts toward her food bowl with the disdain of royalty.

“She acknowledged me, ” Han sighs, following her like a lost duckling.

“She’s going to eat him,” Changbin mutters.

“She won’t,” you say. “Probably.”

The two of you exchange a look, equal parts horror and amusement.

And honestly? You’re kind of glad for the distraction. It’s… nice. Having someone here. Someone who’s not pretending you’re fine, not pretending the world hasn’t tilted under your feet. Just sitting with you. Drinking Gatorade. Watching a squirrel follow your cat.

“Sorry about him,” Changbin says for the fifth time since entering your apartment.

“I kind of like him,” you admit.

He raises an eyebrow. 

“He’s a chaos gremlin. But in a good way.”

“You sure you’re not secretly his mate?”

You snort. “I don’t think I could handle two.”

His teasing fades into something softer. “You’re handling me just fine.”

And just like that—your heart flutters again. 

Before you can answer, there’s a thump from the kitchen. You both freeze.

“Luna?” you call.

A beat of silence.

Then Han’s tiny voice: “We’re fine! Just a minor cabinet exploration situation!”

You sigh, already getting up. “I’m gonna need more Gatorade for this.”

“I’ll help,” Changbin says, rising to join you.

And for a second, it almost feels like something normal. Even if there’s a squirrel raiding your pantry and a bear shifter watching your every move like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

🐻🐺🐻🐺🐻🐺🐻🐺

**Thank you for reading!!**

[freds-chocolate-starfish]

"you loved him first" </3

check out my void stiles masterlist ☆

pairing: void!stiles x fem!reader

he keeps you alive, but not out of mercy — it’s obsession. not with you, but with how deeply you once loved stiles. the real one. the soft-spoken, awkward boy who never said what he should’ve. now there’s only the thing wearing his face, and it knows exactly how to hurt you with it. he kisses you like stiles would have — tender, familiar, like a memory made real — just to laugh in your face and remind you how stupid you are for hoping. it’s not love. it’s not even hatred. it’s something colder. something that feeds off what’s left of you.

warnings: emotional manipulation, gaslighting, obsession, toxic dynamics, canon-typical violence (implied), grief, identity confusion, hurt no comfort, and dubious emotional consent. canon divergence – set post-nogitsune arc where void survives. this is a dark fic with no resolution, just slow emotional unraveling.

you wake to the sound of your name.

soft. familiar. his voice.

it’s cruel how easily your heart reacts — that flicker of hope, that instinct to believe. you roll onto your side, half-asleep, eyes adjusting in the dark.

he’s sitting on the edge of the bed.

stiles.

except he’s not.

you know that now. you’ve known for a while. but your brain still does that thing — that achey, automatic want — like maybe if you just look at him hard enough, the real one will come back.

“i missed this,” he says, like it’s casual. like he belongs here. “you and me. alone.”

you don’t answer. you’ve learned it doesn’t matter what you say — he’ll twist it anyway.

he sighs, tilting his head as he looks at you. “you’re quiet tonight. did i hurt your feelings yesterday?” a smirk. “that bit with the knife was just for fun, sweetheart. don’t be so sensitive.”

he leans in closer. the mattress dips beneath his weight. you feel him watching you, studying every inch of your face like he’s memorizing it — or maybe picking it apart.

“you loved him,” he says quietly. “before all this.”

your throat tightens. you don’t respond. he already knows.

he laughs a little, dry and sharp. “god. it’s disgusting how much you loved him. i can feel it, you know. how badly you wanted him to kiss you. touch you. how you kept waiting for him to say something — but he never did. he was scared.”

he moves again — closer now — and you freeze when you feel his hand at your jaw. it’s too gentle. that’s what makes it worse. that’s what makes your stomach turn.

and then he kisses you.

soft. slow. like he’s done it a hundred times before. like it means something.

for a second — just one — you let yourself believe. the warmth, the shape of him, the smell of his skin. all of it feels like stiles.

but then he pulls away.

and he laughs.

not gently. not kindly. a bitter, joyless sound that guts you.

“you’re pathetic,” he spits, grinning. “still hoping he’s in here somewhere?”

you don’t say a word. you just sit there, breathing through the burn in your eyes. trying not to let it show — how deep it cut. how much of you still misses a ghost.

he leans back, satisfied, eyes cold and endless.

“go ahead,” he whispers, voice curling like smoke. “keep looking for him. maybe someday, you’ll finally admit you don’t really care who’s wearing his face — as long as they love you back.”

he disappears before dawn.

you don’t cry until he’s gone.

tags: @freds-hot-dog-flavoured-water @megmc161 @blondegoth @wickedhexedwitch @jelly-rei

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© freds-chocolate-starfish 2025. do not steal, reupload, remix, or reuse my work in any way without my permission. please tag me in whatever you have taken from me as inspiration. respect the writer and their work.

[grandwitchbird]

Pro tip. And a neutral observation believe it or not.

If you’re engaging with a story constructed on a more mythical level. And you have to twist a character into something more mundane to justify hating them or liking them. You don’t hate or like the character. You just don’t know how to engage with them as-written and you’re projecting something familiar to avoid the discomfort.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

hope you feel better soon!

I am riddled with ailments, but I stay silly!

[spuirrelwiththeletterp]

Could you draw my sans AU john doe? I have his design and lore on my pinned post and the hashtag john doe! Sans

boy when tell you when I found out he's mostly inspired by CYN, I needed to draw him full body cuz I love the awkward legs

while I was re-reading his design AFTER I drew him, I realized his hoodie isn't explicitly stated to have fur, my brain just interpreted it to have fur sooooooo...

praying I drew him somewhat right 🙏

[magpod-confessions]

I feel liks tma has had both a positive and negative impact to my mental health and how i perceived the world in general.

Positive because i think the whole Fears Are A Entity concept really helped me cope with daily stress. Scared someone is maybe sorta following you? Oh, that's just The Hunt being fed. Horror movies? That's just The Dark/the Stranger at work there, don't mind them. Stage fright? The Eye's shenanigans. Fear of heights? That's The Vast being silly <3

Negative because I've been extremely obsessed with The Fears. Ranking them from least to most terrifying, constantly thinking about what fear hellscape i would end up in. Im not sure if i have been developing identity issues before, during or after listening to the magnus archives, but The Stranger has definitely amplified it. I don't think its very healthy to obsessedly think about my Fears and self-analyse myself (and others) to bits

.

[bookinit02]

i should not have reblogged The Dress it still to this day legitimately makes me so angry

[strawberryfaced]

thinking about what parent and child relationships are really about and I’m going to rant in the tags!

[autumnrory]

people on ig still trying to fight with me bc i said the met gala is a fundraiser sjkdfkjs let it go

[ninjasmudge]

people really will say shit like 'the fic i found hasn't updated in a whole month so i think its been abandoned which is a shame, i wanted to read more' like where do you even get the nerve

[no1ryomafan]

Me: Persona is like one of my more normal interests

Also me: *proceeds to do a replay of P3P on NG+ as the femc even though this is gonna take well over 50+ hours like last time even if I skip some dialogue*

[darthkvznblogs]

Considering your recent interest in Dandadan, is it possible we will be seeing its inclusion in the kverse?

I think I know way too little about the overarching plot (and I'm purposefully trying not to spoil myself) to say yes, but I'd definitely like to find a place for it someday; I think the supernatural aspect fits in like a glove (and you know I'm always on the hunt for supernaturally inclined teenagers), but the alien side of things gives me pause - the actions of the Serpo aliens definitely wouldn't fly with SWORD on the prowl, and even if they initially manage to escape their notice, the UAP crash in the very first episode would be like a flame for particularly well-armed moths.

Definitely some workarounds, of course, but I'd like to wait until I watch more (or maybe pick up the manga, but that's usually pricey business) to pull that particular trigger.

[orchideae]

(We've all seen the first one, but the source for the second one from the official artist is here)

Yelan. Yelan, Madame Yelan, what on earth is this outfit. Granted, please don't get me wrong, I loved and was enthralled when I first caught a glimpse of her (also any glimpse of Yelan thrills me) in it, but geez. And yet, they're so consistent with her design;

— The single-sleeved jacket is a brilliant little nod to her mantle but making it something utterly hers within something that is an AU. No mystical beasts or Tsaritsa here! — The straps near her neck are a very different, but quite nice, summer-like rendition to Hoyo's consistent choice for Yelan of a halter/high neck (even the Pizza Hut ad had her in a turtleneck). A lower neckline is something that they actively seem to avoid for her so far. — The amount of see-through fabric is simply a call-back to her default outfit, but rather than spots of it left and right, it's her full-midriff and leg. It fits, it's nothing new. And if anything, funnily enough, I'd seen numerous artworks pop up of Yelan in swimming attire, and all of the designs felt a little off. I don't actually envision her in a bikini like many draw her, but instead, something like what you see here from her neck, to the midriff to the hips. Much more fitting in my opinion, actually, so I like seeing that concept in an outfit in circumstances where you'd expect a lot of summer influence. — And a detail that makes me laugh: the hand that has the white glove in her canonical outfit is also white here, and same with the black one. Also, the bracelet. God, I love consistency even if it seems trivial. But nothing's ever trivial to me guys, you know this.

All in all, thirst trap, sure, but also, good decisions were made.

[corvidaerook]

My new Rook, demiromantic and violently asexual, flirting with all the companions because 1) it literally doesn't matter to him because flirting is meaningless to him, and 2) he's used to using it with people to get them to lower their guards as a way of getting information for the Shadow Dragons so he just play-flirts as a natural habit when he wants people to be comfortable with him, versus me cringing the entire time because I feel bad for leading 6/7 of them on