#dental work in mexico

[delberttbaker]

Why Patients Choose Tijuana for Quality Dental Care

Finding top-quality yet affordable dental care is a priority for many patients. Tijuana has emerged as a leading destination for those seeking expert treatments at reasonable prices.

Top Reasons to Consider Dental Work in Mexico

Many people travel for dental work in Mexico due to its highly skilled professionals, modern clinics, and significant cost savings. Patients receive excellent care comparable to U.S. standards at a fraction of the price.

Affordable and Reliable Dental Solutions

One of the most popular treatments is dental implants in Mexico, offering a long-lasting solution for missing teeth. Additionally, patients seeking expert care turn to the best dentists in Tijuana, who specialize in advanced procedures. Those looking for budget-friendly options without compromising quality often opt for dental work in Tijuana, where experienced specialists provide personalized treatment plans.

With state-of-the-art facilities and professional expertise, Tijuana dental implants ensure patients achieve a confident, healthy smile at an affordable rate.

[coast-modern]

She smokes a pack a day, but what can I do about it? It's her vacation too

[gwandas]

i am not from usa but I always hear that sometimes it is easier and cheaper to just go to another cou6for medical treatment like 😭😭😭😭

oh yeah people do that lol

[warmcozyblanketz]

my dentist filled my cavity wrong and i cant afford to get it fixed and its been a year and now maybe they’ll just have to pull the whole dang tooth but idk because im too scared to get it checked and cant afford to fix it ANYWAYS

[lastoneout]

Another update!!!

The list was a bust oh my god one of the things on here, when I googled it, legit ONLY brought up an article in a local paper from 2000. And Bed, Bath, & Beyond is on it for some reason. Complete waste of time.

I did, however, reach out to the one place that specifically says they do wheelchair stuff via. their contact form because they also say they help with evals and like advocacy and just explained that my doctor agreed with me that I need a chair but then wasn't allowed to actually give me a prescription due to some other guy I've never met before at the clinic saying no, and that I'm willing to pay for everything out of pocket if I have to, and basically just "can you guys help me please" but I won't hold my breath because the website constantly references working with your doctors and "trusting their expertise" so I legit think if I don't have a prescription they won't see me. Fingers crossed tho!

I also did finally find a website that actually explains what measurements I need to take and how to take them to fit myself for a chair, and a website where they just sell wheelchairs online, so if all else fails I'm just gonna have to figure this shit out myself and hope I don't fuck anything up. At the very least if I know more or less what my measurements should be I might be able to find something on ebay or craigslist that works well enough. I'm just scared I'm going to measure something wrong and end up wasting a bunch of money :/

I also now need to see my knee brace guy again and see if he can convince my shitty doctor to like actually do a scan of my knee or something because I still can't wear the brace I have and my knee is like straight up swollen a lot and warm to the touch and my doctor was gonna do something about that but the wheelchair thing went SO poorly even that ended up off the table. Which is annoying as fuck cuz like, uh yeah I don't think we should be fitting me for a brace when there's something Clearly Very Wrong with my joint??

God I'm so sick of managing my heath I swear...

Wheelchair update: the medical supply store here, despite HAVING THE EXACT KIND OF WHEELCHAIR I WANT LISTED ON THEIR SITE apparently actually no longer carries those, nor can they even help me measure myself/tell me what I need to measure so I can buy one on my own somewhere else. Also when I showed the clerk the type I wanted he first went "oh those are expensive tho" and I was like??? Yeah??? So's food and a car but that doesn't mean I don't need them??? I know it's going to cost me and arm, leg, and my first born child but like come on dude.

He gave me a list of places in town that do medical supply stuff and told me to call but ngl I don't have my hopes up, the only place I've found on my own that def does custom ultralight every-day chairs is one that basically just outright says you need a prescription :/ I am probably going to have to figure out how to measure myself for it which is less than ideal and idk where to even start to learn how to do it but if it's the only option it's the only option.

[wiisagi-maiingan]

I am constantly angry about how the people who argue against universal healthcare by saying that it would cause medical tourism in the US are often the same people who fly to Mexico for dental work.

Like I know that those are the people who see their white American asses as blessings to whatever "backwards" or "third world country" they terrorize for vacations, but the double standard is just evil tbh.

[andhumanslovedstories]

To the extent you feel comfortable sharing ofc - why do you need a mouth reconstruction? Is that something dental insurance doesn't cover?

Best of luck for your recovery <3

I have a combination of very weak enamel and furious teeth grinding. The combination meant that my teeth were sheered down until the enamel was gone. I was down to just the dentin underneath, which means my teeth were only going to start eroding faster. Multiple dental providers were saying that I was on track for dentures by fifty. I was super cold sensitive on one side, and I had a tooth pulled on the other side due to a botched root canal, which meant there was no way to comfortably chew many types of food. It was affecting what I’d choose to eat, and buddy I do NOT need more obstacles to eating. And just aesthetics-wise, my teeth’s appearance didn’t bother me enough to pay this much just for them to look better, but I didn’t love that they were permanently yellow and that my face was losing height due to how small my teeth were.

(I’m convinced my prosthedontist and my dental surgeon were both more bothered by the aesthetics of my mouth than I was. My surgeon literally said, “I bet you were pretty insecure about your teeth before this, right?” And I was like “ummmm not really?“ and he was like “really? I mean good! But please understand they look so much better.”)

So I got gum surgery and a base for a dental implant installed several months ago, and now I’ve got temporary crowns in which are actually these connected blocks of teeth that I need special floss to take care of.

They’re So Big and So White.

And tomorrow I get my permanent crowns which should look and feel like real teeth! And then after that I get fitted for a mouthguard to prevent me from wearing the new ones down to nubs as well. (You can use an over the counter mouth guard for grinding, which is what I was using while I was buying time to get my teeth fixed. I’m getting in custom fit in the hopes my jaw will be less sore when I wake up. Any mouthguard is better than no mouth guard if you’re a grinder though, trust me. Save yourself the enamel and the money.)

Speaking of money, I’ll be super blunt: in total, I paid about $8000 for the gum surgery and implant, and $36000 for almost entire mouth of new crowns (I’ve only got two original teeth left). Insurance covered a little over half the surgery fees and like $2k of the crowns. (My insurance will pay for up to 50% of the price of a crown every two years, and I need about twenty crowns all at once, so. Yeah.) I investigated going to Mexico or Canada to get the work done, but ultimately my dental situation is complicated enough to require coordination of multiple providers and regular check ups over many months. It was going to be to complicated to arrange that internationally, plus travel and lodgings, to be worth the diminishing amount of money I would save. I do think I could have gotten all this work done for cheaper, but I’m not sure if it actually would have been something I followed through on. And basically, the sooner I get this work done, the better in terms of face shape and teeth migration and all that, so I was like “fuck it let’s go,” so here we are. In twenty-four hours, I’ll have a brand new mouth.

[rederiswrites]

How's the US medical system doing?

Well, I have a friend in Turkey right now because it was orders of magnitude cheaper to *fly to Turkey, twice* and get her dental work done than to have it done in the US. When she had her teeth evaluated for what needed to be done here in the US, the dentist cited a price over $100k and then suggested she look into having the work done in Mexico. The US dentist suggested she leave the country.

So, not good, is how.

[dandelionsresilience]

Dandelion News - October 15-21

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my Dandelion Doodles on Patreon!

1. EV owners volunteer to drive voters to the polls in 11 states (and you can too)

“ChargeTheVote.org is a nonpartisan voter education and engagement initiative to enhance voter turnout in the 2024 election by providing zero-emission transportation in electric vehicles (EVs) to local polling locations. ChargeTheVote will also host a webinar for those who are interested in participating this coming Tuesday, October 22 at 7pm Eastern time.”

2. Kenya moves 50 elephants to a larger park, says it’s a sign poaching is low

“The elephant population in the […”Mwea National Reserve”…] has flourished from its capacity of 50 to a whopping 156 […] requiring the relocation of about 100 of [them…. The] overpopulation in Mwea highlighted the success of conservation efforts over the last three decades.”

3. Australian start-up secures $9m for mine-based gravity energy storage technology

““We expect to configure the gravitational storage technology [which the company “hopes to deploy in disused mines”] for mid-duration storage applications of 4 to 24 hours, deliver 80% energy efficiency and to enable reuse of critical grid infrastructure.“”

4. Africa’s little-known golden cat gets a conservation boost, with community help

“[H]unting households were given a pregnant sow [… so that they] had access to meat without needing to trap it in the wild. […] To address income needs, Embaka started […] a savings and loan co-op[… and an] incentive for the locals to give up hunting in exchange for regular dental care.”

5. 4.8M borrowers — including 1M in public service — have had student debt forgiven

“That brings the total amount of student debt relief under the administration to $175 billion[….] The Education Department said that before Biden's presidency, only 7,000 public servants had ever received student debt relief through the Public Service Loan Forgiveness program. […] "That’s an increase of more than 14,000% in less than four years.””

6. Puerto Rico closes $861M DOE loan guarantee for huge solar, battery project

“The solar plants combined will have 200 megawatts of solar capacity — enough to power 43,000 homes — while the battery systems are expected to provide up to 285 megawatts of storage capacity. [… O]ver the next 10 years, more than 90 percent of solar capacity in Puerto Rico will come from distributed resources like rooftop solar.”

7. Tim Walz Defends Queer And Trans Youth At Length In Interview With Glennon Doyle

“Walz discussed positive legislative actions, such as codifying hate crime laws and increasing education[.… “We] need to appoint judges who uphold the right to marriage, uphold the right to be who you are [… and] to get the medical care that you need.””

8. Next-Generation Geothermal Development Important Tool for Clean Energy Economy

““The newest forms of geothermal energy hold the promise of generating electricity 24 hours a day using an endlessly renewable, pollution-free resource[… that] causes less disturbance to public lands and wildlife habitat […] than many other forms of energy development[….]”

9. Sarah McBride hopes bid to be first transgender congresswoman encourages ’empathy’ for trans people

““Folks know I am personally invested in equality as an LGBTQ person. But my priorities are going to be affordable child care, paid family and medical leave, housing, health care, reproductive freedom. […] We know throughout history that the power of proximity has opened even the most-closed of hearts and minds.”“

10. At Mexico’s school for jaguars, big cats learn skills to return to the wild

“[A team of scientists] have successfully released two jaguars, and are currently working to reintroduce two other jaguars and three pumas (Puma concolor). [… “Wildlife simulation”] “keeps the jaguars active and reduces the impact of captivity and a sedentary lifestyle[….]””

October 8-14 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[delberttbaker]

Affordable Dental Care in Mexico: A Smart Choice

Quality dental care is essential, but high costs often make people seek alternatives. Many patients now travel abroad for treatment, and Mexico has become a top destination due to its affordability and world-class clinics.

Why Choose Dental Work in Mexico?

Patients opt for dental work in Mexico because it offers cost-effective treatments without compromising quality. From routine cleanings to advanced procedures, clinics provide excellent care using modern technology and certified professionals.

Popular Procedures and Savings

One of the most sought-after treatments is all on 4 Mexico prices, which are significantly lower than in the U.S. and Canada. Additionally, veneers cost in Mexico is much more affordable, making cosmetic dentistry accessible to more people. For those needing full restorations, dental implants in Mexico are a cost-effective solution without sacrificing quality.

By choosing Mexico for dental care, patients save money while receiving top-notch treatment in a comfortable setting.

Mexico offers high-quality, affordable dental care, making it a preferred choice for procedures like dental implants and veneers at lower prices.

[violetmuses]

Shattered - A. Aretas 🖤❤️‍🩹

Title: Shattered - A. Aretas 🖤❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe 

Character: Armando Aretas 

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: When Isabel Aretas seeks revenge, you cross paths with her son, Armando. @nelo0wesker @yassbishimvintage @peaxhygirl

====

2020

Three shadows moved past burning flames as this outdoor space crackled from every direction. Nightfall casted right over this pitch-black skyline. 

Standing in one bloodied prison uniform, Isabel Aretas leads the dark moment without ever speaking. 

You've met Isabel's son, Armando, and watch as this separate vehicle pulls up to help everyone depart the large and horrific scene. 

Onward. 

_____

Still lurking in Mexico, Isabel would plot vengeance all around.

Several members of the Miami Police Department jailed her late husband, cartel leader Benito Aretas.

No matter what happens next in South Beach, loyalty stood as this main rule. Wavering from that mission reeled Isabel's plan near wrong spaces. 

Even before reaching Miami with Armando, neither of you have spoken to each other. 

An invisible air rendered your voices silent in the otherwise gorgeous compound. Though Isabel hasn't expressed herself, you've known better. 

As of late, your communication with Armando lies between cell phones: 

Armando: Ready? ✈️ 

It's time to go. You thought. 

*****

The Miami Harbor reeked of brackish yet putrid air during one summer night. Gangsters nearly huddled around this dock in search of veiled cash. 

“I knew treasure stayed in the ocean, but somebody lied to us. Coño!” Zway Rodriguez shook his capped head while facing Armando. 

“Should cover the cost of materials we've discussed. And then some.” Armando revealed slightly accented English while holding money. 

“Who's this? Hola Mami.” Zway Rodriguez ignored Armando and pointed near you, stepping closer to flirt.

“None of your business.” Armando defended you here. 

“My bad. Thought you could share, man.” Zway lifts his hands. 

Weirdo. Armando thinks. 

“Let's renegotiate, especially when you have her with you. I know plenty of ballers who'd like to see that pretty face.” Another idiot wearing terrible sunglasses moved  forward and noticed Armando, but propped you up in this disgusting manner. 

 “ What you say? We had a deal.” Stepping even closer, Armando slowly reaches his breaking point. 

“Oops.” This idiot draws his firearm and points the weapon directly toward Armando. Other goons surrounded the men, lurking. 

Smirking in the dark, you cornered yourself once Armando finally reveals this Karambit knife to stab the idiot wearing shades. 

Aretas even shoots various bullets from his own gun. Both weapons quietly tucked sleeves found near leather pants. 

“C'mere, look at me. Last warning: I don't renegotiate.” Countless body drops later, Armando defended everything and lifted the choking man's face, taking this final bullet to kill him. 

Silently gesturing for you to come back, Armando takes charge.  Zway and other survivors watch this dangerous man speak once more.

As you've learned, the Aretas Cartel drifted through shadows like ghosts, horrific in many ways. 

“My family's taking back management of this town and we'll need some loyal employees. Who wants a job?” Armando grounded leadership. 

“Dental?” Zway then dared to be stupid all over again. 

“Say that again?” Armando pointed the barrel of his gun toward Zway's chin and you only lifted your brow, just waiting for that trigger to go off. 

“Easy, Papi.” Zway just kept taunting this moment, but Armando set the firearm down and tapped Zway's gold jewelry. 

“You'll work for me now.” Armando offered Zway rules without even yelling. “If you get people to fall in line and stay out of my fucking way, I won't kill you.” 

No longer talking, Armando stepped back, leaving Zway quietly anxious and scared. 

“All right, fellas. Listen up. Listen up. Let's get this money now. Vamos!” Zway shouted toward the others and people scrambled to gather remaining cash, alive. 

Standing on the dock, you watch as Armando dialed this number to contact his mother Isabel. 

When the phone call ended, Armando turned around and looked at you. 

“Yeah?” You whispered and leaned in to hear Aretas possibly speak. 

“May I?” His accented English pulled through when Armando glanced down, politely reaching for your hand. 

“Yes.” You gently take his palm in return and exit the dock, gaining actual trust. 

*****

“I'll be back. This one is on me.”  Armando stands in his motorcycle gear and interrupts you. 

“Who's the target?” You ask. 

“Mike Lowrey. I'm tired of waiting. Tag me.” Aretas gathered essentials and left this hotel room. You would still trace the operation. 

Here we go. You thought. 

______

Jackpot! 

Not long after Armando pulled his trigger, Detective Mike Lowrey stood down. 

“Got ‘em. Are you still waiting?” Aretas questioned your location by phone. 

“Yeah, why?” You glanced around while sitting near your laptop just in case. 

“Mind if we order room service or something?” His slightly accented English returned. 

“Celebrating?” You almost laughed in response to Armando. 

“Technically. The boogeyman is gone.” Aretas grounded this phone call. 

“All right. Let's do it.” You hung up and nearly smiled.  

______

Once you offered space for Armando's privacy, both meals and dessert lined up for enjoyment. 

“What's your name again?” Sitting across this table, Aretas dares to flirt, but you don't feel uncomfortable. 

“Very funny.” You clipped back. 

“All jokes aside, I'm serious.” Armando locked eye contact. “My mother hardly introduced us after the prison break.

Realization slammed thoughts down. Isabel's escape hit the ground running with vengeance and you couldn't process time altogether. 

You barely knew the man who stayed in this hotel room, her son. 

“Where should I start?” You offered the question, genuinely puzzled. 

“Doesn't matter.” Armando shrugged for a moment and still watched you. 

Even while music played from this Bluetooth speaker, Armando couldn't glance elsewhere. 

You're beautiful. And despite sharing this mutual understanding for violence, Aretas would still take bullets for you. 

“Want my file?” You would definitely send highlights of your own battles. 

“No.” Aretas understands how lethal you are when given signals. “My mother doesn't choose amateurs.” 

“What's on your mind?” You gestured near your temple. 

You. Armando thinks. 

******

Within months of the large-scale assassination taking place, news changes everything: 

By some unexpected chance, Detective Mike Lowrey survived! 

“How'd it go?” Briefly staying in Mexico this time, you whispered to Armando once Isabel chided this situation. Her son didn't follow the hit list in order. 

“Heading right back to Miami.” Armando wouldn't make eye contact with you as this team left the compound once more. 

Dammit! Square one. 

*****

Returning to the Miami Harbor, you set out this propped laptop while scrolling names from law enforcement databases and Armando watches. 

“Do it right. No more chances.” You warned him, reasonably irritable now. 

“Be careful…” Armando walked behind you and his sleeved arms over your space. 

“Am I wrong?” Even as you speak, his calloused palms gently smooth your knuckles. 

“Never.” Armando whispered through ongoing trust and welcomed distance to let you work. 

_______

The second time around, every single pierced bullet moved  closer and closer toward gaining true revenge. 

Even Miami Police Department Captain Conrad Howard stood responsible for locking down Armando's late father, Benito Aretas years back. 

When Captain fell this time, Armando really showed out. 

“Cheers.” Aretas clinked glasses with you, still fair enough to dodge taking out Mike Lowrey near innocent civilians. 

“Now what?” You've set your own drink down tonight. 

“Home stretch.” Armando clipped that response once more. 

“All right.” You lifted the glass of champagne and handed this beverage to Armando before walking away, turning off music. 

Your faint lipstick smudged this glass, catching Armando's interest. 

Updating one private list set on his phone, Aretas counted another trait of yours: 

You've rarely worn makeup, unlike his mother Isabel. 

____

The following day, you woke to see text messages lighting up your phone: 

Armando: Meet me in ten minutes! ⏰️ 🛩 

Given no other choice right now, you scrambled out of bed without hesitation and didn't even try fixing covers, hopping the shower. 

Something went wrong. 

****

“What the hell happened?!” You run back into the Mexico City compound and find Armando pacing by this mirror. 

“Would you lie to me?” Furrowing his brow, Aretas rasped the important question to you. 

“No.” Vowing once more, you would pull every trigger at the first chance. “What's going on?” 

Vulnerable for the first time, Armando reached out and you nodded as his dangerous fingers somehow warmed your arms. 

“He's out for blood.” Armando revealed Detective Lowrey's plan to kill him. “If anything happens to me, run.” 

“I'll never step without you. What about our loyalty?” You recalled the earlier promise. 

By that very moment, Armando nearly turned speechless. 

“C'mon.” Taking your hand in private, Aretas led you out of this room, ready for war. 

******

As you battle near Armando through your own defense, this big-time compound standoff erupted with the Miami Police Department AMMO squad. 

“Armando, you're my son.” Detective Mike Lowrey stood among fire and rubble as his words revealed near embers. 

What?! Absolutely not. Your own thoughts panicked. There's no way in hell that Lowrey is telling the truth. 

Isabel would've lied about everything. 

“Shut up.” You offer venom too, staying just as enraged with Armando in bewilderment. 

“I didn't know about him. If I had known…” Lowrey still makes an attempt while looking at you.

Armando then uses force to kick Mike backwards and destroys even more of this space. 

Every other second, his fists pulled more and more strength, but the main question lingered. 

“Who are you?” Aretas still injured Lowrey without fail and brought out the detective's weakness. 

“Ask your mother…” Mike continued responding even when Armando pulled his collar. 

Isabel Aretas emerged while dampened from outdoor rain. 

“¿Es cierto lo que dice?” Speaking his native language of Spanish, Armando asked Isabel if Mike really told the truth. 

"No importa. Él no significa nada para ti.” Isabel refused to answer clearly and this response doesn't even matter. 

“Hey, do ya'll see this fuego? Can we take this shit outside?” Detective Marcus Burnett is scared of the fire and damage engulfing all corners. 

“Cállate!” Armando shuts Burnett down once more, yet faces Isabel with sadness. “¿Quién es, mamá?”

“Tell ‘em!” Mike nearly shouts to Isabel despite everything. 

“Es mi papá?” Armando's heart continues to break. 

“Is he my father?!” Reaching this final resort about Mike Lowrey, Armando Aretas yelled to his mother in English. 

“Yes.” Isabel confirms the truth to Armando at last. No doubt whatsoever. “Kill him…”

Just when Mike and Armando stand while facing each other, Isabel clicks the barrel of her own gun directly behind your head. 

“No…”Armando realizes what is happening with you and more grief snatches air right from his lungs. “You took so much away from me. Don't pull the trigger.”

Ignoring her son, Isabel wanted to kill you here, but Lieutenant Rita Secada stepped up and locked immediate bullets to end Aretas.  

When you grab Armando's hand once more, the AMMO  squad hurries to escape tragedy and this outright mansion collapses forever. 

******

“How you doing?” Following the death of Isabel Aretas, Detective Mike Lowrey stepped forward to check on his estranged son, Armando, in prison. 

“I've paid my debt. It's a big one.” Armando tells the truth, sighing in this orange uniform. 

“An opportunity might help cut down some of your debt.” Mike continued. “Interested?” 

“Yeah, man.” Armando nodded toward his biological father, prepared. 

“And don't think I forgot…” Mike lifted his brow and stepped back to reveal your presence. 

“Hi.” You smiled toward Armando while standing in this darkened space. 

“Hey.” Armando greets you with his slightly accented English once more

“Uh-oh! Are you blushing over her?” Mike chuckled near Aretas. 

“No.” Aretas fibs and pulls himself together  knowing that visitation will run out. 

“Yeah, right. You're sprung as hell, but I'll see you soon.” Mike started to walk away, but still noticed when Armando winked toward you from his spot. 

He's just like me. Lowrey confirmed one final time. 

Who knows what the future brings? 

[strawberrysunsets]

The Empty World (Ch. 10)

Donald Pierce x fReader

Status: Ongoing

Summary: Pierce and the Reavers are sent to capture a mutant with mysterious abilities. This chapter: The mutant sets out on their first assignment for Transigen, amid mounting tension with the Reavers.

Warnings: Swearing, injuries, mention of cannon death, mention of cannon torture, mention of cannon suicide, manipulation.

Angst, slow burn, enemies to lovers

Author's Note: Hiiiii yes tis I another six months later lol hope you enjoy💓

It was late when you woke the next day. The alarm clock by your bed flashed red digits– 3:00pm – and you only had a moment to float in the thoughtless peace of waking before a knot of anxiety settled in your stomach.  

While last night’s encounter with Pierce was still fresh in your mind – a little thrill of revulsion dancing through you at the thought – it wasn’t the cause for your nerves. Nor was it the constant worry over whether Laura and the other mutants were safe. No; the adrenaline mounting in your system as you stumbled to the bathroom to brush your teeth was solely a result of the fact that after a week of waiting, and briefing, and training your injured shoulder back into shape, the day of your assignment had finally arrived. 

You washed your face, drying it with a hand towel before dressing in the uniform you’d laid out the day before. 

You hadn’t lasted long in high school before taking to the road, but you remembered the feeling of walking into a room to take a test you knew you weren’t prepared for. This was something like that. Except you were surrounded by literal enemies, here – not just the disapproving gazes of teachers – and the stakes of this test were life and death. If you failed this assignment, would Transigen even bother keeping to your deal? Or would they decide you were of more use to them chained to a table in a lab than out in the field?

…and if you succeeded? You’d tried not to think about it. But how many lives might suffer the consequences of Zenith Lab’s scientist falling into Transigen’s hands?

You found yourself gripping the edge of the table by your window, your knuckles turning white as you stared emptily out at the view before you. The empty lot, where last night, you'd confronted Pierce. You turned away, massaging your temples. It was an exercise in futility, trying to predict the possible outcomes of your actions. For now, only one thing was certain: as long as you worked for Transigen, Laura and the others were safe. Or as safe as you could make them. And they'd been through enough. You squeezed your eyes shut against the barrage of horrible images your mind threatened to dredge up from Gabriela's video. You had to focus. 

Your mission was simple. 

The target was Zenith Lab’s complex, a skyscraper in the downtown core of Mexico City with a security system designed specifically to keep intruders like Transigen’s agents out. So, for the Reavers to gain entry to the building, that security system had to be disabled. There was only one issue: the security hub lay on the high rise’s twenty-seventh floor, and no aircraft could deploy an air team to reach it without being detected by the lab’s scanners. Something smaller, though–say, a winged mutant–wouldn’t trip those sensors. There was a reason Clark, the security coordinator, had had you memorizing floor plans for a week. 

It would be up to you to take out the security mainframe, allowing the Reavers access to the building.  

Seeing as I’m carrying this whole damn plan on my shoulders, you thought, sifting through the equipment you’d acquired from the recon manager– you’d think this job would at least come with dental. But no; just the slim promise of freedom for Laura and the other mutants, and an even slimmer paycheck. 

You pulled on the bullet proof vest and slotted the taser into its holster at your hip–silently glad they’d only given you nonlethal means of disarming the guards–then examined the final item in your kit. It was an armpiece, meant to be worn like a cuff around your bicep. Upon turning it over, the only identifying information you could find were a barcode and manufacturer’s label, and you scrutinized it for a moment before putting it on. 

A tracker? To make sure you stayed on course? It seemed superfluous, since you weren’t going anywhere with Transigen’s threat looming over Laura and the others. And since Clark had said you’d be out of radio contact until you’d disabled the mainframe to avoid detection, it couldn’t be a transmitter of any sort. What, then? 

You mulled over the question as you made your way through the lab’s stark hallways, even as you mentally reviewed the stages of tonight’s plan. Fly to Zenith Labs. Break in through the roof door, which would be locked but unguarded, then take out whatever skeleton staff were on the nightshift at the security hub. Finally, meet Pierce and his Reavers as they executed the rest of the plan, and get the hell out of dodge. 

Simple, if not exactly easy. 

The rest of the late day passed in the same gray blur as all your days at Transigen, different only because of your mounting anxiety. 

Nightfall found you in the lobby as a Reaver named ‘Kills’ dispersed earpieces to Reavers who waited impatiently by the door or cracked jokes in groups along the walls. There were less than a dozen in total; all the same rough, macho-sadist types who seemed drawn to the Reaver corps like moths to a flame. You stood out amongst them like a sore thumb, even as you tried to make yourself invisible. It would've been hard enough to keep a low profile as the only non leather-wearing, gun-toting one among them, let alone the only woman, mutant, and goddamn avian. As it was, you tried to look as cold and disinterested as possible in order to repulse their attention. Pierce hadn’t yet appeared, and it was with a mixture of dread and anticipation that you thought of running into him tonight.

Finally the Reavers began moving towards the lab’s doors, and you followed them out, the night air quickly snapping everything into hyperfocus. 

It was a warm, humid night, and the sounds of the city felt alien to you after days in the quiet sterility of the lab. It felt like ages since you’d last walked a city’s streets, and been a part of that noise. Some part of you wondered if you ever would again. 

Three black trucks were parked in a line down the lab’s drive, and the Reavers were moving around them and climbing inside. Someone directed you towards one, and you climbed inside, pulling your wings in tight to avoid brushing the doors. 

There were five Reavers already inside the truck, and all glanced up as you entered, save the man typing away on a laptop. Their faces were cold and dispassionate, but beneath that mask, you recognized a plethora of emotions. Disgust. Hatred. Malicious interest. Once again, your instincts told you to run –that this was a tiger’s cage, and you were a fool for stepping into it. 

But these assholes aren’t hunting me anymore, you thought to yourself, forcefully. They already won. I’m here by choice.  

The truck’s door slid shut behind you, and you set your jaw. Go figures the actual mission would be the least of your problems tonight. These men seemed primed for a fight, and you could feel their sights quickly settling on you. 

“You can sit down here, doll,” a man with a thick bullet-proof vest and an abundance of side holsters said, grinning as he nodded to his lap. “C’mon over.”

You glared at him, and lowered yourself into the nearest empty seat. “I’d rather not catch whatever brain-eating disease you have,” you snapped back, “thanks.” 

“Damned if we gotta work with a fucking mutey,” one of the other men muttered, clicking his gun into its holster emphatically.  

“Hey, she’s on our side, now!” Another laughed. He had stubbled cheeks and a purple bandana tied around his neck. “Gonna help us take out her own kind, just like that albino traitor,” he taunted lazily. “Ain’t that right, girl?”

A hot flush of anger overtook you, along with a sudden sense of claustrophobia at the van’s tight quarters. They don’t get to fucking mention Caliban. For a moment there was a loud buzzing in your ears, and a tide of memories and pain threatened to overwhelm you. Then you shoved the thoughts of Caliban back behind their wall , and turned on the Reavers. 

“We’re not hunting mutants tonight, piss-brain,” you shot back at the man with the bandana. “Did you miss the briefing? I know reading comprehension is above your paygrade, but it’s a fucking scientist you’re after.” 

It felt good to see the man’s gaze darken. “Guess that depends if we find any,” he replied, lip curling in a humorless smile. “Who knows what they’re hiding up there?” He leaned towards you conspiratorially, revealing the line of tattoos that stretched down his neck below the bandana. “Me, I'm hope there’s a few mutts,” his smile grew colder, and his eyes raked over your face in search of a reaction. “It’d be nice to have a little target practice.” 

Heat prickled down your spine, and you didn’t break his gaze. You weren’t going to be baited by this asshole. 

One of the other men–the bald one–was smiling, too; the same lazy malice written on his face as he watched you. “It has been a while since we got some hunting in,” he agreed. “Heard those kids gave quite the chase. But I’m sure ol’ Wolvey took the cake.” 

Your skin flushed hotter before you could get a handle on yourself. 

“How many shots did he take before he went down?” The bald man continued, turning to the other quizzically as bandana-man pursed his lips in thought. “Fuck, gotta be two-dozen?” He smiled, turning his gaze back to you as he let out a low whistle. 

The tension in the truck was thick as tar, and finally even the man on the laptop looked up, glancing between you and the Reavers. 

The buzzing in your mind felt like it was growing louder, like a freight train overtaking you; and all at once, the hot, prickling sensation on your skin resolved itself into something familiar. Something like crackling energy, and an awful golden light lurking just beyond your fingertips. 

The blood drained from your face. 

“You know ‘bout that, feathers?” The first man was asking, leaning forward as if in earnest. “Naw, she wasn’t there,” the other Reaver replied. “Missed the whole thing! Gotta tell her about it.”

What would happen if your powers returned, here and now? If your Ether flared inside this truck?

You had no idea, but you doubted there’d be any survivors. 

And would that be so bad? Some dark part of you whispered, lulling you towards the crackling energy. To end this awful game, and go out with a fucking bang? To take some of these assholes with you? 

Some distant, reasonable part of you was shouting for your attention, but far nearer was the forgefire of everything you’d shoved behind a wall in your mind. It was rage, and fear, and months of unprocessed grief–and that dam wasn’t going to hold forever. 

Somewhere outside the truck, there were voices, and engines revving–but they seemed far away compared to the dark, taunting eyes of the men before you. One little slip, one burst of energy–and they’d be gone, and you’d be gone from this place. 

The stillness of the truck was shattered as the front passenger door swung open, and a familiar figure climbed inside, blond hair tousled from the wind. The man with the bandana leaned back in his seat, breaking eye contact, and the bald man smiled sardonically as he shifted away, too. 

“Boys,” Pierce greeted, his gaze roving over the Reavers before settling on you. “Playin’ nicely?” 

The heat was high in your cheeks, and the buzzing in your mind still grappled for your attention as you tried to regain control. Now’s not the time to lose it, you told yourself, trying to shove the energy back behind its wall. Not with so much on the line. You couldn’t be so selfish. 

You could feel Pierce’s gaze on you, and from the corner of your eye you saw when the man on the computer glanced up, briefly locking eyes with Pierce as they seemed to exchange some sort of information. Pierce sat back in his seat, sighed once through his nose, then swung back out of the truck. You barely registered it when he appeared at your side door, sliding it open and taking hold of your arm as he pulled you back out into the night. 

Too surprised to resist, you landed on the sidewalk, and he shoved the door shut behind you, suddenly cutting you off from the scene within. 

“What are you doing?” You asked dumbly, slowly returning to yourself as he shepherded you down the walkway. Pierce only snorted, directing you towards one of the other trucks. “C’mon, baby,” he drawled, opening its door and herding you inside. “We're gonna ride recon.” 

***

The inside of the recon truck was quiet as it rumbled through the city streets, lights and the occasional bright storefront flashing past outside. The radio played a late-night mexican station and the transceiver crackled with brief messages and replies from the convoy, while the man in the passenger seat watched what appeared to be a live feed from outside Zenith Labs. 

They were headed to a drop point, from which you’d get airborn and make your way to the building while the Reavers followed from the ground. 

Pierce was listening to the transceiver's chatter, judging by the tilt of his head, and idly adjusting one of the components of his mechanical arm as the driver wove the truck through the midnight streets. The Reaver Commander wore his usual fatigues, black t-shirt, and leather jacket; but now with the addition of a kevlar vest, and holsters on either side of his hips. He was ready for a fight; but then again, he always looked ready for a fight. 

Finally, Pierce sighed.  

“I spent plenty of time around soldiers,” he said conversationally, shifting back against the truck's netted wall. “After a while, you learn the look of someone who’s about to break.” He met your gaze briefly, knowingly, as he twisted the metal dial that was his forearm in a series of smooth clicks.

You looked away, trying not to think about what had happened with the Reavers in the other truck. How you’d almost lost control. So easily, so quickly–and still, how the energy behind your mind’s wall seemed agitated, like a pot of water on too high heat. 

“Seen it happen,” Pierce continued. “Watched ‘em puke up their guts, or run for home…usually at the first fight, or first kill. First time facing bad odds,” he smiled drily. “And I wouldn’t care a whit about you going haywire on us,” he sighed, “except I seen what you can do when you break.” 

That day on the overpass. A car wreck, and an explosion of swirling golden Ether. 

You winced, and you could feel your usual composure eluding you. You knew that bits of your feelings were getting through; the shame. The anger. Fear. There was no stopping them. You swallowed, taking a deep breath. The least you could do was try to settle your stomach. There was a chance you might lose control and vaporize someone tonight, but you were not going to puke. 

Pierce was unfazed, staring at you as he leaned back. “Thing is, baby-" His mouth curved in an unfeeling smile. “-there’s a whole lot of people riding on tonight’s little operation. So I'll thank you not to blow the whole thing sky-high before we even get started.” 

“I’m not going to jeopardize your precious little kidnapping mission,” you snapped back. “I’m not going to break.” 

There was a beat of silence, and you returned your gaze to the window as you ignored the hollowness of your own words. 

In truth, you were relieved beyond measure that he’d pulled you away from the Reavers in that moment. You didn’t know what might have happened if you’d stayed, and didn’t want to consider it. Stupid, perceptive bastard. As it was, you still felt like your control was balancing on a knife’s edge–and the mission which that afternoon had felt impossible now felt like a death sentence. If you wanted to get through this, you couldn’t delve into your feelings. You had to do –not think. Not feel. 

“I’m not going to break,” you breathed, repeating it more to yourself than anyone else. Pierce sighed through his nose, not bothering to argue the point, then leaned forward and tugged at one of the straps of your vest, unfastening it.

“Hey–” you jerked away in surprise. His lips twitched, and he rolled his eyes. “Let me help you, sugar. You done it up all wrong.” 

Your breathing grew shallow as he leaned forward, his hands working deftly to pull the strap from its loop.

This close, his stature was even more intimidating than usual; your entire world taken up by his tall frame and thick arms. As if sensing your thoughts, Pierce smirked. His face was shadowed in the darkened car, but you could feel it. Asshole. 

"Easy, baby. Can't have your gear on wrong, now, can we?" 

His arms encircled you as he crossed the straps behind your back, and for a moment the warmth of his biceps pressed into your shoulders, and you could smell the musky, cheap scent of his aftershave. You turned your eyes skyward, ignoring the proximity of his neck and jaw, and tried to keep your thoughts from straying inevitably towards last night. Futilely. Your cheeks reddened. 

Then he was before you once more, fastening the straps tightly; his face shadowed, though the flash of the streetlamps illuminated the skull and crossbones inked across his neck. You made a mental note to mention to him how tacky the tattoo was, as soon as you'd regained your focus. Right now, you were too distracted; torn somewhere between the vile, magnetic pull of him, and the unnervingness of his physicality. Even without his robotic arm, he was frighteningly strong-and exactly the wrong kind of person to wield that power.

Still, his proximity calmed a small part of you by some infinitesimal amount. For even after witnessing your near loss of control, Donald Pierce didn’t seem scared of you. And in some way, that helped you feel less scared of yourself. Even if his character tended to counteract that effect. 

He finished with the vest, and you took a breath, nerves zinging as he leaned away. 

“There you go, sweetheart. All good,” he said, half mocking.

You thought his assessment over, but then his gaze fell to your arm. You’d almost forgotten the armband, but Pierce reached forward to grip your bicep, turning it into his view. His hands were firm; clinical in their assessment, but still the smirk remained. 

“No one told you how to put the damn thing on?” He asked, fiddling with something on the armband so that it clicked more firmly into place. 

“I didn’t exactly get workplace training,” you shot back, trying to keep your voice steady and unbothered by your racing heart.

The truck was beginning to slow, finally, and you examined the sharp lines of his face in the halflight. “What is that thing, anyway?”

Pierce sat back, finally widening the space between you as he took his radio from the wall, slotting it into his belt. 

“Technical,” he replied. “Keeps your gear from emitting frequencies scanners might pick up while you’re on the way in.” 

You processed this information, idly straightening your shirt as the van rolled to a stop. Sometimes it was easy to forget that beyond the gun-obsessed, vaping, muscle-shirt wearing exterior, Pierce was smart. You'd worked as a mechanic, and were a dab hand at fixing basic wiring and the like-but Pierce was on another level. He'd designed his own mechanical arm out of advanced robotics, along with the enhancements on other Reavers-and seemed to have a disturbingly good understanding of things like energy signatures and transmissions. Power, in the worst possible hands. 

You heard other engines cutting off outside, and Pierce leaned forwards, pulling open the truck's side door as the night wind rushed in. You climbed unsteadily out, wings flaring for balance as you found your footing on the rocky ground. 

The place where the trucks had stopped appeared to be a dusty, dead-end road, slightly elevated from the rest of the city by a small hill. It was bordered on one side by a chainlink fence, and on the other by a grassy expanse which led down towards the roofs of some houses. 

“Now, you do what you gotta do to hold up your end of the bargain tonight, sugar,” Pierce said, swinging out of the truck after you. “No room for anything else. We’re gonna be right behind you.” He grinned. “In spirit, if not in the flesh.” 

The truck stopped across from you was the one from before, and as you watched, the Reavers from within climbed out to lean against the doors or hang from the windows. Purple bandana leaned against its side, while the bald man watched from the open door. His gaze was gloating, but you ignored it. Still, you couldn't shake the feeling that they were all watching you-sizing you up; as if waiting for something.

Pierce leaned against the recon truck, his tall frame impossible to ignore at your back; and you realized what they were all waiting for. 

You. Of course they were going to watch you take off; for you were a freak, and they had front row seats to the show.

A pang of anxiety shot through you at the thought. You'd always known how much the Reavers hated you; hated all mutants-but it was a different beast to feel it. This was truly what you were to them. An aberration; some strange, depraved mistake that nature made, and on which they had the chance to profit. You didn't feel confidant under their scrutiny, but you sure as hell weren't going to show them how much it rattled you.

Might as well make it worth their while, you thought, jaw clenching. You took a few anticipatory breaths, and bounced on the balls of your feet as you worked up your courage.

Just do. Don’t think. Don’t feel. Take the damn sociopath's advice, and do what you have to do to get through the night. 

“Catch you on the other side,” Pierce grinned, wolflike in the darkness. 

Without waiting to reply, you took a running start towards the grassy slope. The air was cool on your hot cheeks as you sprinted, leaving all thought behind. The chainlink fence and red roofs of the houses at the bottom of the slope grew nearer, and then your feet left the ground, and the sudden sensation of weightlessness hit you like a wall as your wings fanned out on either side. 

They’d chosen a good take-off point. The natural updraft of the hill caught you almost immediately, carrying you effortlessly up and away from the shrinking roofs. 

Your newly-healed muscles ached at the exertion, but the ache was dull, dampened by the sudden thrill of flight. It felt like leaving it all behind; like escaping the tethers of your mind, and throwing fear to the wind. 

How long had it been, since you really flew ? But you couldn’t think about that now; only the task ahead. 

Far below, truck doors slammed as Reavers climbed back inside and the black vans pulled away from the drop point. And high above, you wheeled towards the city; focus honed to a single point of intent as you worked to pick out the dark shape of one specific skyscraper among the rest.

Taglist:

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[faggotfungus]

Met an interesting lady at the Grocery Outlet in town.

I was holding my $1 bag of floss picks and lookin at the other hygiene products when the lady next to me pointed out how gross looking a line of hair sprays were, in the way you could see in layers all the different components.

We talked about how she opens some items before she buys them because she doesn't know if they're still good, like gummy vitamins. She then mentioned she's balding because she's on testosterone, and she shows me her thinning hair at the back of her head. I told her I was too in both cases, on T and balding. She asks me how I manage it since my hair looks so good, I tell her about the Finasteride, and the rosemary oil, and the Biotin, etc.

She tells me about how "when she was younger" she was a body builder and how now at 52 she missed the way the testosterone made the shape of her body look and made her feel, so she's started again. It's during all this I start thinking about gender expression, but that's another post.

I give her a subtle up and down, and I decide to tell her I'm trans, that "I was born a woman." A risky thing where I live, especially in the heart of town like this. She lights up. She tells me how she had no idea and how she couldn't tell. Then she gets excited because she's realized, "So you understand then!" And now, in the middle of this grocery store aisle, we're talkin bottom growth and how much she's loved that, how she's just horny all the time, how she hates all the body hair especially the facial hair, how she's had to start training her voice to still sound higher. Her suddenly being seen and understood was infectious, I felt happy for her and shared parts of myself.

I found out her husband loves her body and finds all her changes attractive. I found out she's on soooo much testosterone. I told her, "You're on more T than I am and I'm Trying to look like a man." To put it in terms she'd understand. That made her pause. 1ml twice a week is what she's been doing. I told her to bring it down to my level, that she'd still get the effects she's after while the others wouldn't be as fast or aggressive. And if she finds she's comfortable at .5ml once a week, then good, or if she even feels like she could go lower, then to take it down .1ml at a time till she feels comfortable.

Anyway, then she started talkin about how she goes across the border to mexico to get botox, dental work, and her medications. I told her about how I had to take some old antibiotics from the vet a couple of months ago, and we commiserated over the failure of the USAmerican healthcare system. Then she told me how every time she gets Covid, she goes into Traktor Supply, gets some Ivormectin and some kinda tablet meant for fish tanks, and takes both of them... Well, ya win some ya lose some.

I gave her my number and told her to text me anytime she had questions about testosterone. It's been an interesting day.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Jessica Glenza at The Guardian:

A bill introduced by the US senator Bernie Sanders would dramatically expand access to oral healthcare by adding dental benefits to Medicare and enhance them in Medicaid, public health insurance programs that together cover 115 million older and lower-income Americans.

Despite Americans’ reputation for the flashy “Hollywood smile”, millions struggle to access basic dental care. One in five US seniors have lost all their natural teeth, almost half of adults have some kind of gum disease and painful cavities are one of the most common reasons children miss school. “Any objective look at the reality facing the American people recognizes there is a crisis in dental care in America,” Sanders told the Guardian in an exclusive interview. “Imagine that in the richest country in the world.” Nearly 69 million adults and almost 7 million children lack dental insurance. For those who have insurance, costs are often opaque and high. Multi-thousand-dollar bills are so common that the nation’s largest professional organization for dentists, the American Dental Association (ADA), signed an exclusive partnership with a medical credit card company. In 2019, more than 2 million Americans went to the emergency room for tooth pain, a 62% increase since 2014, and a crisis of affordability pushed an estimated 490,000 Americans to travel to other countries such as Mexico for lower-cost dental care.

“The issue of dental care is something we have been working on for years,” said Sanders. “It is an issue I think tens of millions of Americans are deeply concerned about, but it really hasn’t quite gotten the media attention it deserves.” Sanders said he had seen how poor dental health can affect every aspect of a person’s life – he described constituents who cover their mouths when they laugh or have been turned down for jobs because of missing teeth. Sanders said he recognized the importance of the issue by attending town halls in his home state of Vermont, “and learning how hard it is to get dental care, how expensive it is and [how] dental insurance [is] totally inadequate”. “Having bad teeth or poor teeth is a badge of poverty,” said Sanders. “It becomes a personal issue, a psychological issue, an economic issue as well.”

Sanders’ bill expands dental coverage by adding comprehensive benefits to Medicare; incentivizing states to improve dental benefits through Medicaid; and providing dental benefits to veterans through the Veterans Administration. Additionally, the bill would attempt to tackle some states’ dentist shortage by creating student loan forgiveness programs for dentists who practice in underserved areas, and increasing funding to non-traditional places to see dentists, including at community health centers and schools. Expanding dental coverage is exceedingly popular – recent polls show 92% of voters support the proposal, including an overwhelming majority of Republicans. Sanders said his proposal was good policy and “very good politics”.

Senator Bernie Sanders (I-VT) has proposed a bill called the Comprehensive Dental Reform Act that would dramatically increase coverage for dental care for Medicaid and Medicare patients.

[barbucomedie]

Skull Fragment from Xochitecatl, Mexico dated between 650 - 900 on display at the National Anthropology Museum in Mexico City, Mexico

This skull has dental work with inlays of obsidian and green stone in the teeth. These practices were for aesthetic reasons and were a regular part of daily life in Xochitecatl. The green stone was a signifier of wealth and social status.

Photographs taken by myself 2024

[needsmoreresearch]

hnrgh

i just read a post that is like mostly fairly true about one of tumblr's favorite topics: traveling to other countries within europe vs traveling to other countries within america

but there was sort of a general direction it led in over the course of reblogs, about "only rich americans travel out of the country," which kind of relied on some limited definitions, like: "Americans = US-born citizens whose parents are also US-born citizens." And "other countries = Europe." And, I guess, "travel = frequent just-for-fun vacations."

granted it used to be much easier pre-9/11 to do this, but broke-ass Mainers doing the shopping in Canada because the US dollar stretches farther there? that was certainly a thing when I was a kid. A quick internet search tells me I can get plane tickets to Mexico for under $70, though I haven't read the small print. Extended refugee families saving the fuck up to send some family members to visit relatives back home as often as possible--or to visit family members who dispersed to other countries? Happens all the time, though yes it might take people years and years to save. People save up for the Hajj. People travel for dental work because they don't have insurance. Families structure their budgets around wanting to see grandmas and aunties and uncles every few years.

i don't know. there's nothing wrong with the post i saw. frequent european vacations are financially inaccessible to the majority of american citizens. but there's a hell of a lot of other travel that happens, and it's not just wealthy tourists.