2020 was awful for a lot of reasons and it’s also the year I was diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer. With 6 weeks of chemo and 1 more surgery left it feels like I can finally see the end of it ahead of me.
Don’t worry about what you did or didn’t achieve this year. If you’re here to see the start of the new year, that’s achievement enough.
time for lake to talk about top surgery yet again (sorry for so many nipple close ups in this one lmao)
also - the single line across like I have technically *is* double incision, just joined in the middle. some people also have to go in for surgical revisions for their results, not just injection treatments. I didn’t know much about this stuff going in - it wouldn’t change my want/need for surgery but I had the outlook that I’d heal perfectly because my surgeon was one of the best. then my genetics were like “nah lol”, so the more you know, the better prepared you can be for your own surgery!
p.s. I know I Overshare In Art too much but I just want to put it out there that I am not open to talking further individually with strangers about any details of my transition. I get a lot of invasive questions from strangers and I’d like my boundaries to remain where I draw them (ba dum tss)
He doesn’t remember a lot from before. He remembers the weight of a gun in his hands. He remembers a room with unkempt beds and blank walls. And then, his Father came through a door and smiled at him.
He remembers being afraid.
He isn’t now, not anymore. Father has been good to him, even back when Dean was trying to escape. He gave him a big room, sheltered away from the world. He kept him fed and clothed, read him bedtime stories, made sure to eat in Dean’s company as often as possible.
Father never hurt him, even when he had to draw Dean’s blood. He used to whisper to his ear that he was his favorite, that his blood was so sweet and that he bruised so prettily. Father often told him that he felt selfish to keep him so sheltered but he knows his people’s hunger too well.
— My children, Doll, they are… violent, Father says to him one day. Messy. They don’t care properly for their food. They don’t know how to make it last, how to savor the blood. They would tear your pretty skin apart without caring - but I care so much about you, Dean. That’s why I had to keep you away. Do you understand, Doll?
Dean nods. He loves it when Father calls him Doll. He keep writing the word with drops of the blood Father takes from him. Father smiles, his lips tinted in red, and ruffles his hair with affection.
— One day, I will teach you how to be one of us, Doll. One day, you will become my favorite child.
Dean smiles brightly. He can’t wait for the day to come.
(Dean is taken as a child to become the Alpha’s Vampire’s human blood bag.)
