can-i-have-gams-please

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[can-i-have-gams-please]

I would like nice things to happen to me and my friends please

[can-i-have-gams-please]

japanese Mahoyo switch page vs english Mahoyo switch page

vs Mahoyo steam page

[can-i-have-gams-please]

i really like this thing where websites will have separate "log in" & "sign up" buttons and if you click "log in" it takes you to a sign-up screen anyway so you have to click "i already have an account" and then it will ask if you want to sign in with your facebook account or with instagram or linkedin or deviantart or whatever, and if you choose "username & password" it asks if you want to put in your username or use your thumbprint, and once you put your username & password it emails you a confirmation code, and once you put in the code it says "do you want to give us your phone number for future sign-ins? do you want to sign up for facial recognition? do you want to give us your bones? give us your fucking bones?

[can-i-have-gams-please]

This kinda goes into my personal thoughts on it. Like eating meat in and of itself is I don't think an immoral act, and even raising livestock (humanely) at this point is more doing our due diligence after having CREATED a whole subspecies of animal that cannot survive without us (sheep) or have drastically reduced chances of survival (chickens, cows, you name it.) And naturally they die, cause all things die. So you should use every bit you can, the skin, brain, bones, everything.

Vice versa I'm also of the mind that the bulk of human remains should receive a similar fate. Which I know is probably a hot take but i like being ideologically consistent. Whether with feeding us to animals, open burials, or just going back to wooden coffins if all that's too morbid for humanity at large to handle.

Ideally yes, I think we should move away from eating meat, and to a much more plant based diet globally, with meat being a rare treat, due to animals getting treated well and not being raised specifically for slaughter. animal byproducts is more of an iffy one, and I think depends in the practices involved. Impregnating cows for milk, gross. Eggs? They're just gonna rot if they don't get eaten so why not.

And if artificially grown meats become more viable then it... kind of solves the cruelty issue. At least in that you're not torturing obviously sentient beings out of a vague sense of "increasing efficiency". It opens up new ones but that's another discussion.

In any case, replacing something that is already wasted with the Microplastic Jerky baffles me, getting back to the original point. It also does and will, hurt a loooot more animals, plants, and the ecosystem at large, than cows do.

i need pepple to understand that in the first place leather has always been made from the byproducts of butchering animals for meat, otherwise the skin is just tossed and unused. there were some companies farming for leather for a while, particuarly alligator leather, but those were not the norm. peta did so much harm in their campaigns against leather as a concept (its not unethical. yoi get the skin when an animal dies. thats why most leather clothes in the usa are cow leather, bc thats the biggest meat animal here) that its almost impossible to buy anything "leather" that isnt made of plastic that it so fragile and shitty that the very Thread Holding It Together rips the fibers apart. it will last for maybe a year two if youre lucky, and wont biodegrade and was made out of something that isnt naturally occurring in the first place and is one of the biggest causes of pollution globally

[can-i-have-gams-please]

[can-i-have-gams-please]

i think the darkest fantasy that i get sometimes -- the one that really keeps me up at night -- is that a rogue's gallery of people that have harmed me will suddenly show up in my dms, in a coordinated effort. they'll apologize, sort of, in a way that seems more like they're forgiving me for ever doubting them.

and then one by one they'll announce their involvement in a new project: not seven evil exes, per se, but the sort of Greater Ex Polycule. a mission to unite and exchange notes and truly understand me on a level nobody has unless they've seen me at my worst.

they'll bring up old triggers, soothe me with old memories, scrape fingers across old wounds, and run their hands across old soft spots trying to convince me that it's truly different now -- that everything is okay, that i don't have to be afraid anymore. it was always a nightmare. a bad dream. but i need to go.

without protesting, as if i'm under a spell, i'll float away. a hand clapped over my mouth, i'll get up and walk away from everything i know, and one of them will open a car door. and it'll really click, in that moment, when it's too late, that i'm not dreaming -- they're all here, all of them, here to take me away and never let me come back. i'll try to scream but i'll be too muffled through hands that are suddenly sharply pulling my head down, grabbing my legs, tying my wrists together, tying my legs together, tying a gag to my mouth, covering my eyes, taking me away.... and i'll hear mumbling. low voices. whispers. and i'll recognize all of them.

in this fantasy, i am somehow the most important thing in the world, and yet only because i make such easy prey. it won't be my fault, because i tried to scream, but they'll hurt me in ways only i could dream about. they'll leave me alive, as long as they need me, but if the day ever comes where i suddenly wake up back home in my own bed with my own blanket and my own life and my own loved ones i'll be unrecognizable.

i think that's the worst part of it all. i had so many almost-transformations, almost reached so many bad endings, became so many bad things... but then i ended each of those metamorphoses as a pupa, building a layer of chrysalises i have to chew through anytime i want to see anyone without all those stained-glass lenses. blessed by so many revelations, the prophet of so many gods, and then suddenly goop in a shell.... yes, i could plead for someone to rip into the layers of casing around me, but i don't have a form outside of them!

so what if, instead,

i became a swarm of butterflies? i don't even know where the wings would start to grow when my skin runs out of room and my mouth is stuffed with chitin and veins. out of my eyes, my ears, from under my fingernails.... if those would indeed be things i would have in this new, perfect, horrible, meaningless state.

i wouldn't be a person, or even a doll or a pet. i could only be described as an angel.

[can-i-have-gams-please]

i think the darkest fantasy that i get sometimes -- the one that really keeps me up at night -- is that a rogue's gallery of people that have harmed me will suddenly show up in my dms, in a coordinated effort. they'll apologize, sort of, in a way that seems more like they're forgiving me for ever doubting them.

and then one by one they'll announce their involvement in a new project: not seven evil exes, per se, but the sort of Greater Ex Polycule. a mission to unite and exchange notes and truly understand me on a level nobody has unless they've seen me at my worst.

they'll bring up old triggers, soothe me with old memories, scrape fingers across old wounds, and run their hands across old soft spots trying to convince me that it's truly different now -- that everything is okay, that i don't have to be afraid anymore. it was always a nightmare. a bad dream. but i need to go.

without protesting, as if i'm under a spell, i'll float away. a hand clapped over my mouth, i'll get up and walk away from everything i know, and one of them will open a car door. and it'll really click, in that moment, when it's too late, that i'm not dreaming -- they're all here, all of them, here to take me away and never let me come back. i'll try to scream but i'll be too muffled through hands that are suddenly sharply pulling my head down, grabbing my legs, tying my wrists together, tying my legs together, tying a gag to my mouth, covering my eyes, taking me away.... and i'll hear mumbling. low voices. whispers. and i'll recognize all of them.

in this fantasy, i am somehow the most important thing in the world, and yet only because i make such easy prey. it won't be my fault, because i tried to scream, but they'll hurt me in ways only i could dream about. they'll leave me alive, as long as they need me, but if the day ever comes where i suddenly wake up back home in my own bed with my own blanket and my own life and my own loved ones i'll be unrecognizable.

i think that's the worst part of it all. i had so many almost-transformations, almost reached so many bad endings, became so many bad things... but then i ended each of those metamorphoses as a pupa, building a layer of chrysalises i have to chew through anytime i want to see anyone without all those stained-glass lenses. blessed by so many revelations, the prophet of so many gods, and then suddenly goop in a shell.... yes, i could plead for someone to rip into the layers of casing around me, but i don't have a form outside of them!

so what if, instead,

i became a swarm of butterflies? i don't even know where the wings would start to grow when my skin runs out of room and my mouth is stuffed with chitin and veins. out of my eyes, my ears, from under my fingernails.... if those would indeed be things i would have in this new, perfect, horrible, meaningless state.

i wouldn't be a person, or even a doll or a pet. i could only be described as an angel.

[can-i-have-gams-please]

Everyone keeps talking about "the writer's barely disguised fetish". But I still haven't heard about "the writer's barely disguised huge ass pet peeve"

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Can't believe nasu just outright said he'd have made more type moon works if he didn't dedicate the past decade of his life solely and entirely to a gacha game with no end of service plan

Multiple potential fate and mahoyo works sacrificed for what will inevitably become lost media