#Toe Fungus Treatment

[collectivebeaut]

Empowering Yourself with Effective Toe Nail Fungus Treatment Strategies

At 1o1darleybeautycollective, our mission is to help individuals feel confident, beautiful, and healthy by providing the best solutions for nail fungus treatment. We seek to equip outstanding products and services that are safe, effective, and affordable while maintaining the highest quality and customer satisfaction standards. We are earmarked to continuously innovate and improve our offerings, staying at the forefront of the beauty industry.

[footclinicuk]

Our London clinic's team looks forward to helping you finally overcome frustrating toenail fungus for good! We invite you to book a personalised consultation to get started today on the path back to clear, beautiful nails free of discomfort.

[raimundoreviwes]

FUNGUS ELIXIR REVIEW

Fungus Elixir Review: A Comprehensive Look at its Benefits

I recently tried Fungus Elixir, a dietary supplement formulated to support fungal balance and promote overall health. After incorporating it into my daily routine for several weeks, I wanted to share my experience and insights.

Key Ingredients: Fungus Elixir contains a blend of natural ingredients known for their antifungal and immune-boosting properties. This includes probiotics, garlic bulb extract, oregano leaf extract, apple cider vinegar powder, and more. These ingredients are carefully selected to target fungal overgrowth while supporting a healthy immune system.

Benefits I Experienced:

Improved Nail Health: I noticed a significant improvement in the appearance and texture of my nails after using Fungus Elixir. The blend of antifungal ingredients seemed to address the underlying cause of my nail issues, resulting in healthier and stronger nails.

Reduced Itching and Discomfort: I struggled with occasional itching and discomfort in certain areas, which I suspected might be due to fungal overgrowth. Fungus Elixir helped alleviate these symptoms, providing relief and comfort.

Enhanced Digestive Health: Since Fungus Elixir contains probiotics, it also benefited my digestive health. I experienced less bloating and discomfort after meals, indicating a healthier balance of gut bacteria.

Boosted Immunity: Supporting immune function is crucial for combating fungal infections. Fungus Elixir's immune-boosting ingredients helped strengthen my body's natural defenses, making me less susceptible to infections.

Overall Impression: I was impressed by the effectiveness of Fungus Elixir in addressing fungal issues and supporting overall health. Its natural ingredients and comprehensive approach make it a valuable addition to anyone's wellness routine. However, individual results may vary, and it's essential to use Fungus Elixir as directed for optimal benefits.

Final Thoughts: In conclusion, Fungus Elixir exceeded my expectations in terms of its effectiveness and benefits. Whether you're dealing with nail fungus, skin issues, or digestive discomfort, Fungus Elixir offers a holistic solution that targets the root cause of fungal overgrowth. I highly recommend giving it a try for anyone seeking natural support for fungal balance and improved well-being.

[b-curelaser]

Toe fungus laser treatment has emerged as a modern solution to a persistent problem. However, its suitability for your individual situation depends on various factors, including the severity of the infection, the cost considerations, and the time commitment you can afford. By carefully evaluating these aspects and consulting with a medical professional, you can make an informed decision about whether toe fungus laser treatment is the right choice for you. Remember, your foot health is paramount, and exploring all available options will empower you to choose the best course of action for your well-being.

[trendyglows]

Discover effective toenail fungus removal near you with Metanail Complex. This advanced solution offers a convenient way to address toenail fungus issues. Through its specialized formula, Metanail Complex aims to provide a reliable and accessible option for individuals seeking toenail fungus removal. Say goodbye to discomfort and hello to healthier nails with Metanail Complex.

[excellentreview]

Beware of foot fungus

Athlete's foot is an infection caused by a fungus of the genus Trichophyton that thrives in warm, moist environments, such as between the toes. This condition is also called frostbite, athlete's foot, and tinea pedis.

Athlete's foot can cause symptoms such as itching, redness, peeling, burning, and a foul odor in the affected area. In addition to physical discomfort, athlete's foot can also affect self-esteem and quality of life, causing shame, anxiety, depression, and social isolation.

O pé de atleta é tratado com pomadas antifúngicas, que devem ser aplicadas no local conforme recomendação do dermatologista. É importante completar o tratamento e manter a área sempre seca para evitar exacerbações e outras infecções de pele.

To prevent athlete's foot, it's important to pay attention to hygiene and footwear, including:

Wash your feet with warm water and soap and dry them thoroughly, including between your toes.

Moisturize your feet frequently, but avoid moisturizers with high concentrations of urea if you have diabetes.

Keep nails short and straight to avoid dirt accumulation and injury.

Wear shoes that fit your foot size and shape, preferably breathable shoes.

Do not wear closed-toe shoes or wear them for long periods of time without cotton socks.

Close your shoes and expose them to the sun after use.

Use an antifungal spray or powder on your feet and shoes.

Do not walk barefoot in public areas such as locker rooms and swimming pools.

Do not share anything that touches your feet, such as socks, shoes, or nail clippers.

Do not use polish on your toenails if you suffer from fungus. 

[goodjohnjr]

Helping The Programming Department & A Doctor Checks My Foot / Toe Fungus

File:Intertrigo-1.jpgDescription: Athlete’s foot or Tinea pedis lesion, a mycosis caused by a dermatophyte fungus. This dream took place during the day, I possibly went out of town with my mom and some of my family. At some point, we were somewhere, and our programming department from our library was setting up food & decorations for a program, I assume. My female coworkers MR, AG, and JB were…

[podiatryfootsole]

Our dedicated team of specialists offers comprehensive solutions to help you eliminate toe fungus and restore healthy nails. From topical antifungal medications to laser therapy, we provide personalized care tailored to your specific needs.

[healthfitnessresearcher]

How do I treat foot fungus at home?

There are several ways to treat athlete's foot at home. Common home remedies for athlete's foot include:

1.Keep your feet clean and dry. Wash your feet regularly with soap and water and dry them thoroughly, especially between your toes.

2.Apply an over-the-counter antifungal cream or ointment. These products are designed to kill the fungus that causes athlete's foot. Carefully follow the directions on the package and apply the cream or ointment to the affected area 1-2 times daily.

3.Use antifungal powder or spray. These products absorb moisture and prevent mold growth. Apply the powder or spray to your feet and shoes.

4.Soak your feet in a mixture of vinegar and water. Mix one part vinegar to two parts lukewarm water and soak your feet in the solution for 15-20 minutes.

5.Uses tea tree oil. Apply a few drops of tea tree oil directly to the affected area or mix with a carrier oil such as coconut oil before applying.

6.Wear breathable shoes and socks. Choose shoes and socks made of breathable materials like cotton and avoid tight shoes that can trap moisture.

If athlete's foot does not improve with home remedies, or if you have any concerns, it is always advisable to see a doctor for advice and treatment.

This 30-Second Shower Trick Kills Toenail Fungus

[eff4freddie]

Touch | Part Five

You struggle to re-establish a purpose in Jackson. But the Miller brothers will always keep you on your toes.

Words: 5.2k

Part Three | Series Masterlist | Part Four

Warnings: smutty smut smut, oral (m receiving), kind of subby Joel maybe?, like shades of subby, whimpers and groans, carpentry

Minors DNI

You envied people who didn’t remember their dreams. Yours lingered with you, so much accumulated horror for your brain to draw upon. The crunching of dried-out fungus under boot. The squelch of blood running over clenched fist. The screams of your sister, reverberating with the screams of your dad, of your mum, of yourself. Formless and vacant of hope, a belligerent and unrelenting slideshow.

You woke with a start in your own bed, alone and trying to piece together how you got there. After Joel had taken care of you on the coffee table you had slumped towards him, head on his shoulder, and took in all the air your lungs could get. The exhaustion was overwhelming and you had felt yourself go limp in his arms, dimly aware of him lifting you, carrying you up the stairs. You’d had enough presence of mind to worry he was going to hurt his shoulder before he had you wrapped up in your blanket. You didn’t hear him leave.

You supposed you should be happy, but you had long started to suspect that it wasn’t really an emotion you were capable of. Even before outbreak day you’d had too much to worry about. You had already come to terms with the fact that happiness just wasn’t something your mind could do. Terror, though. That was your speciality.

At the bottom of the stairs, you peered through the front window at the rest of Jackson going about their day. Ordinarily, you would have been setting up for your first client, but you’d already cancelled them. You couldn’t bring yourself to look into the treatment room, hadn’t been in there since your table collapsed. The excitement of Maria delivering, the thrill of being somewhat useful, had allowed you to forget for a second that your vocation, the one thing that had got you into Jackson and probably saved your life in the process, was over. Without the table you were limited to straddling grumpy men in your kitchen, and that was a whole different job.

You glanced in at the living room, eyeing the coffee table suspiciously. You were running out of safe rooms in your house.

—

You kept your eyes down at the mess hall, only glancing up once or twice to ensure that the coast was clear. You weren’t surprised to see that Ray wasn’t there, assuming that he was manning the radio with Simon trying to scout any danger for Marla and the crew. The expedition was expected to take several days, longer if the weather turned. There was no cause for alarm, no reason to assume anything was amiss. But you knew Ray, and that that wouldn’t stop him.

Halfway through your porridge a tray dropped onto the table in front of you, and you startled, snapping your head up. You felt your stomach flip, the rolled oats no longer sitting comfortably beside the acid and bile in your stomach.

‘Mind if I sit?’ Ellie asked, already settling into the chair. You shook your head, swallowing heavily.

‘No, course,’ you said.

‘You looked lonely, you always look lonely.’

‘You’re very observant,’ you said, not sure if this was truly a compliment.

‘We just got back to Jackson,’ Ellie said, undeterred.

‘So I hear.’

‘I think we’re staying for a while,’ she went on largely without you. Her eyes had drifted to the middle distance, and you could see that she was thinking.

‘And how do you feel about that?’ you prompted. Her gaze shifted back to you, and she shook her head as if the thoughts were clinging to her clothes.

‘I’ve seen you around,’ she said, and you got the feeling she was starting the conversation over again, to see if she could improve it a second time. You let her.

‘Yup,’ you said.

‘You touch people,’ she said simply, and you blinked, had no idea what to make of it.

‘Umm…’ you started, and she interrupted you.

‘Dina says it helps people feel good,’ Ellie continued, as did your concerns.

‘What exactly did she day I do?’ you desperately tried to clarify.

‘You rub people and they feel good.’

Nope. Not better.

‘Massage,’ you spat out abruptly, ‘it’s a kind of therapy, physical therapy…but not like, it’s not…it’s good for your muscles, for your spine.’

‘Right,’ Ellie said, as if this was obvious, and you were very relieved to have got that sorted out at least.

‘You massaged Joel,’ she went on, and you wondered how hard it would be to jam your butter knife into your eye socket and remove yourself from the conversation, if not the planet, completely. ‘He told me it helped. Well he didn’t tell me, but he was all angry and sore…more than normal…then Tommy made him see you and he was better after that. He was his normal grumpy self, not his sore grumpy self.’

‘I’m happy to have helped,’ you said. You had given up trying to predict where the conversation was going, and now you were just tagging along behind her.

‘You did help,’ she said, leaning forward on her chair, up on her elbows on the table. ‘I want to help, too.’

‘You…do?’

‘Yeah I thought I could…I thought I was going to but, it didn’t…’ She looked around the room, flustered, and dipped her head lower to murmur underneath the sounds of the other tables. ‘I thought that I could help people one way, but it didn’t work out, and I just want to see if there’s another…fuck it actually, this is stupid.’

‘No, it’s not stupid,’ you said, and you reached out to put your hand on her arm, but she pulled it back like you had burned her.

‘You probably think I’m too young,’ she said, rolling her eyes but also really seeming to mean it.

‘I was your age who I started learning,’ you said, and watched as her eyes lit up, finally rising back to meet yours.

‘You were?’ she asked, and you nodded, grinning at her.

‘I think so, yeah. I mean, how old are you, Ellie?’

Like a shot her smile dropped, and she slunk backwards and away from you, receding into the chair and appearing to you to deflate to half her size. ‘What, what did I…’ and then you realised, cursed yourself and your remaining three brain cells. She hadn’t told you her name.

‘Who’s been talking about me?’ she asked, so quietly you only just heard. You swallowed. You remembered what it was like to be a teenager, to be relentlessly comparing yourself to your peers, to the women in magazines and on tv, to be relentlessly self-conscious, to be convinced everyone is talking about you and also worse, that no one is.

‘I asked Maria who you both were who you arrived,’ you said, deciding it was safer to talk about Maria then it was to talk about Joel. ‘I saw how Tommy reacted to Joel, and to you, and I didn’t understand what was happening so I asked.’

Ellie nodded, considering this, and you could see she had already worked out that it wasn’t the whole truth, but you hoped it was enough truth that she didn’t disappear on you.

‘What did she say?’ she asked, and you thought very hard and very fast to think of a good answer. You would have preferred a minefield.

‘Just that you were Joel’s kind of adopted daughter and that you’d been out of town for a while…and that she was super happy to have you back.’ You prayed the last part would ring true in some way, that it would be enough to reassure her. ‘Maria cares about you a lot.’

‘Maria doesn’t know me,’ Ellie replied. I don’t trust that he’s not keeping her in the dark.

‘She doesn’t need to, she just cares anyway,’ you said, and you meant it.

A loud group of teenagers, slightly older than Ellie if you had to guess, pushed into the mess hall and you watched as she pulled away from you even further, taking up residence about three centimetres back from her own skin. Her eyes were hard, vacant. You had seen the same look on Joel, and you knew then that she was a quick learner.

‘Ellie-‘ you started, but she was pushing her chair back.

‘Never mind,’ she said over her shoulder as she hurried away.

—

The mood in the town shifted over the next few days. Neither Marla nor any of the other crew had radioed in since reaching the third checkpoint, and there had been heavy, low-hanging clouds threatening the mountains. You had wondered about going in to see Ray, but you weren’t sure what you could say that would be any consolation. You worried, perhaps unfairly but also perhaps not, that you would say the wrong thing, that in your haphazard if well-intentioned way you would lose him, too. Instead, you stayed away.

You also avoided Joel. You felt the urge to keep a respectful distance, to try and pretend like it had never happened, like you hadn’t grasped his shoulders and come harder than you had in literal decades. You weren’t sure if you remembered ever having felt the way he had made you feel in an embarrassingly short period of time, but also you weren’t sure what it meant, if anything. If this was just something that Joel did, how he kept himself busy at the end of the world. You didn’t want to be his distraction, and you didn’t want him to distract you, especially when you had so much to pointlessly worry about.  

You’d had boyfriends, one before outbreak day and two and a half in the years after. A lot of the time it was convenience, sometimes protection, but never passion. You’d read that during times of national crisis birth rates skyrocket and you’d never been able to understand why. Nothing about a brain-obliterating fungus was all that attractive to you. You wondered if what had happened with Joel was just about you finally feeling safe. If it was less Joel and more Jackson. You felt better about things, if that were true. You hoped it was.

You took the short walk to Maria’s, a tray of lasagne in your hands that you’d begged and borrowed at the mess to be able to make. There wasn’t any oregano or basil, so you just got generous with the salt and hoped for the best. You thought about your mum’s cooking, which wasn’t really all that great either. Her method was throwing Italian herb mix in to any pasta sauce in the hope that it would make it taste better than the sum of its parts. It rarely worked, but you couldn’t blame a girl for trying.

You stood on Maria’s porch, not sure if you should knock. You were worried about waking the baby, or waking Maria, or that the wrong Miller brother would be home. You worried that you wouldn’t be welcome, that you’d done too much at the birth, that you had overstepped in some way that you weren’t aware of but that would make it impossible for Maria to now be your friend.

Just as you were about to leave the lasagne on the front porch and make a break for it, the door swung open, and you were met with Tommy’s surprised face.

‘Umm, hi,’ you said, taking a step away from the doorstep without even noting. Tommy looked down at your hands, took the lasagne from you and put it gently on the console inside the door, then wrapped his arms tight around you and pushed all the air out of your lungs. You couldn’t even gasp in surprise.

‘You…’ he said, and he trailed off, and you felt the warmth and the comfort of his arms, and you suddenly thought you might cry. You pulled away, fast.

‘How are they?’ you asked, and Tommy beamed. Looking at him now, you realised he was absolutely exhausted, dark circles under his eyes.

‘Come see,’ he said, pulling you in and shutting the door behind you. You could hear humming, contented gurgling, and followed it into the lounge room. Maria was sitting up on the couch, son at her breast. She smiled when she saw you, and you looked down at the baby in her arms, and felt love physically enter your body.

‘Oh Maria,’ you whispered, and she grinned back at you.

‘I am so fucking tired,’ she stage-whispered, and you had to try hard not to laugh too loud. His little fist was balled up and resting on her chest, and you could see the tiny thumbnail, purple and deep red, and it was too small and too precious for the world around it.

‘I have to go…run an errand,’ Tommy said quietly from the doorway. ‘Will you two be OK?’

Maria waved him off.

‘I ran off the other night before I asked you his name,’ you said, coming to sit beside Maria so that she didn’t have to turn her head to talk to you. She leant into your shoulder, and it was peaceful and warm and the kind of thing you do with a good friend, and you wondered if she’d object to adopting you.

‘We were going to go with Joel Junior,’ she said, and you wrinkled your nose.

‘Too alliterative,’ you said, and she nodded.

‘Also still not convinced about him,’ she said, and you felt something shift in your belly.

‘He was good the other night, with Tommy.’

‘He saw a lot of me I never intended him to,’ Maria said, and your heart sank. Should you have got rid of him? He was there for Tommy, you realised, not Maria. Should you have objected, said something? Had Maria been trying to telepathically tell you to do something, and you missed it? ‘It’s OK,’ Maria said, sensing the way your body had tensed. ‘I wasn’t really paying much attention to him, in fairness.’

‘You were kind of busy,’ you agreed. You listened to the baby suckling quietly, little contented grunts coming from his throat. ‘So, it’s not Joel Junior,’ you prompted.

‘Robin,’ Maria said. ‘There are so many here in Spring, and I love their little songs.’

You reached a hand out to cup his head in your palm. ‘That’s perfect,’ you said. For a long moment you just watched him, the peace of him, so wrapped up and warm and safe in the arms of his mother. You ached for your own for a second, before you pushed the thought away, told yourself this wasn’t the time.

‘It feels different out there,’ Maria said. ‘I can even tell, and I haven’t left the house in days.’

‘Vibes aren’t great,’ you agreed.

‘Tommy’s worried, but he won’t tell me.’

‘The expedition is just taking longer than it should,’ you said. ‘If there was anything to tell I’m sure he would.’

Maria regarded you for a long moment, and you realised she wanted more answers, but you had none to give her.

‘He’s like Joel, like his big brother,’ Maria said eventually, and you felt heat up the back of your spine. ‘Protective,’ she added. ‘To the point of locking you out in the cold to save you from the monster under the bed.’

—

You kind of wished Maria would stop dropping truth bombs on you, then leave you to work through the rubble on your own. You walked the long way back to your place, down behind the hall and past the lake, just to see if you could push her words out of your body through your feet.

It meant that you arrived back on your front step just as the sun was setting, and you were surprised to see the lights in your house on. You were sure you wouldn’t have left them on in the daylight. You pushed the door open, trying to remember if you’d locked it. No one did in Jackson, but you liked to when you were going to bed, partly to believe that you could do anything that might prevent some kind of harm.

‘Hello?’ you called down your hallway, thereby alerting any potential attackers to your exact whereabouts. You rolled your eyes at yourself. Jackson had definitely made you soft.

There were no weapons in your entry way. You considered whether taking your boots off and throwing them would cause enough of a head injury to get away, but it would be harder in your socks. In Chicago you’d kept a baseball bat beside the door, and used it only once.

‘That you?’ you heard a voice call, and you paused. Were you ‘you’?

‘Maybe?’ you called back, and you heard two sets of laughs. One deep and huffy. You’d recognise it anywhere. Your feet moved all by themselves.

Joel and Tommy were standing in your treatment room. The broken table was gone, and in its place a brand new, clearly custom made, massage table stood. Thin enough so that you didn’t need to climb on top of it to rearrange the towels, and just the right shape to give a body a warm and safe place to rest.

Your hand flew to your mouth, and you felt tears pushing hot onto your cheeks. Tommy grinned at you while Joel watched, careful and reserved. You didn’t have words, could barely wrap your head around what you were seeing.

‘You helped so well with Maria, kept her going when anyone else would have quit,’ Tommy said, while you were trying hard to breathe. ‘You did so good, so we wanted to say thank you.’

You let out a gasping, gulping, tearful laugh, nodding your head at him. ‘That’s OK, you’re welcome,’ you said, but you were laughing and crying simultaneously, so it was hard to know if you’d made any sense.

‘It was Joel’s idea,’ Tommy said, smiling at his older brother, who promptly blushed and looked ready to murder him. ‘Come look,’ Tommy said, extending a hand towards you and pulling you by the arm further into the room.

The massage table had built-in padding under a leather cover, that was attached to the wood with studs along the edges. The leather had clearly been something else in a past life, the stitching haphazard and criss-crossing over the base, but you would cover it with towels anyway. You pushed a hand out and pressed down on it, finding it delightfully spongey, and soft. You wanted to lean down and put your nose to it, inhale the leather, the warm sunshine on swatches of yellow and green fields. Inhale a different life, an older one long passed.

‘And here, this is the headrest,’ Tommy said, continuing his tour. ‘It sits in its own little track carved in here, see? So you can remove it or slot it back into place. Maria said that’s what the proper tables used to have, so you could lie face down.’

You nodded, confirming that this was indeed true. You reached out and put your hands on it, let your fingers reach underneath to feel the joins in the wood. They were smooth, carefully crafted. You knew they were Joel’s, carried his strong but gentle touch, his precision, his care.

You gazed at him, completely blindsided by the craftmanship and the generosity. The moment hung in the air, the two of you watching each other. You wanted to tuck your head under his chin and cry into his chest, wanted to rip his shirt off him and shred it with your teeth so he could never wear anything ever again, wanted to hold his face in your hands and keep it, not let the moment pass, let your hands on his skin secure the warmth there, hold the look on his face, for eternity.

‘I should head back,’ Tommy said, and you pivoted immediately towards him and threw your arms around his neck. He laughed, wrapping his arms around you. ‘Now we’re square,’ he said, and you gurgled your acceptance.

After he left, you worried Joel would go, too. Worried that all of this had been obligation, had been at Tommy’s insistence, had been a way of winning Maria over. Worried at how badly you wanted him to stay, worried that it wasn’t just Jackson but that it was him, that it was always going to be him, and that right now every nerve ending was on fucking fire just because he was looking at you. You waited for him to grunt or nod at you and turn his back, but he stayed standing, his brows knitted together, one hand on his hip.

‘It’s beautiful,’ you said, because the tension was starting to mount now that Tommy had gone, and if he kept looking at you like that you were going to combust. Your voice wobbled, and you swallowed glue and razor blades to try and steady it. ‘Where did you get the leather?’

‘Found an old couch lying around, no bother,’ he said. His voice was low, like he thought you were going to run from the room, but in that moment you didn’t trust your legs. You nodded your head because words were failing you, but then suddenly you had too many of them, and they were all going to come out right now, all at once.

‘Its just that the massage table, I know it’s silly…but it was what I used to do before outbreak day, and it was kind of who I am or maybe I just think of it as that, but I just worry that if I don’t have anything to offer no one will keep me.’

Jackson. You’d meant to say you were worried they wouldn’t let you stay in Jackson. But that wasn’t at all what you’d said.

Joel took two steps forward, grabbing your face and rubbing at the tracks of tears on your cheek with one hand, the other snaking behind you to hold your back. You gasped, staring up into his brown eyes, the salt and pepper of his beard, the lower lip you wanted to nip with your teeth. You waited for him to say something, anything, but holding you was also enough. Under his patient gaze your breath slowed, you stopped feeling your heart thundering in your chest, felt your shoulders drop.

‘Joel…’ you whispered, and he was on you then, head dipping down to bite at the skin behind your ear, hand roaming over your hips to cup your bottom, grind you into him, where you felt him hard and heavy against your core.

‘Let me-‘ he started, but you stopped him, gripping him by the shoulder and pulling away.

‘No, let me,’ you said, suddenly bold under his wanting touch. ‘Table’s fixed now, so there’s no excuses.’

He cocked and eyebrow, blinking at you. ‘You want me on that?’

‘What’s the matter, don’t trust your craftmanship?’

‘Baby, a massage isn’t exactly what I-‘

‘Down to your boxers and face in the hole,’ you said, grabbing a towel from a nearby stack and putting it down on the leather.

‘You could at least help,’ he said, grumpy again, and you grinned happily at him.

‘I’ll step out and let you get ready,’ you said, in full-blown professional mode, just to fuck with him. He sighed, but he did as he was told, and you really fucking liked it, actually.

Once he was on the table you draped him, making sure he was comfortable. You rubbed your hands together to make them warm, then poured some cooking oil – the best substitute you’d found so far even if it did make the residents of Jackson smell like fried chicken – into your hands.

‘This might be cold, I’m sorry,’ you warned, and Joel grunted. You were glad he was face down so you didn’t have to see the expression on his face.

You started with his left leg, draping the towel over his hip and tucking it between his thighs. Straight away you could feel the tension there, the tightness of the calf, the hamstring ready to snap. You ran your hands in a vee-shape, thumbs tucked one over the other, up the back of his leg, stopping just below his glute, which you briefly considered leaning over and sinking your teeth into.

Joel’s skin was soft, and unbelievably hot to the touch, and you had to try hard to focus on what your hands were doing so that you could ignore the little whimpers, the little gasps, as you found and massaged away a knot. You ran your hands up the outside of his thighs, felt the muscles jump and tremor under you, dug your fingers into his hip flexors and heard him exhale, an almost sigh, as they released.

You got into trouble when you got to his back. You were aware of the fact that you were soaking your panties, worried that he would smell your arousal, worried that if he kept making noises like that you were going to drown yourself. You worked hard to keep your breath steady, remembered your lessons and imagined dousing yourself in freezing cold water, jumping from your back porch into the frozen lake below Jackson, hoping that might give you some relief.

The wide planes of his skin were marred by scars, by shadows of pain and hurt and memory. He carried a scar, an old one, on his right side, a graze that looked like a bullet, that you decided to ignore. As you pushed hard along his spine he grunted, the muscle seizing under your touch, and you worked against it, kneading at them like dough, lifting the fascia and breaking it down, working the adhesions, until it was buttery and smooth. You focused on Joel’s breath, saw the way his chest expanded as he inhaled, felt the enormous man, so scary and so gruff, so mean and so soft on the inside, gradually give in to you. You felt him relax, the tension leaving his shoulders as you worked them, careful to release the deltoid, to ease off the trapezius now that you could finally get at it properly.

You were tempted to leave him there, relaxed for maybe the first time in years, but you roused him, rolled him onto his back, put a folded-up towel under his head and another over his eyes to protect them from the light. With his face covered you could take your inventory of him. The scar on his right side, jagged and angry and new, the reason he’d been favouring it finally clear to you. The soft smattering of chest hair leading down to a light trail on his pelvis. The towel covering him, but not enough to hide the fact that he was hard, that he had tried to tuck his cock into the waistband of his underwear but that it was too thick, too long to stay fully hidden.

You moved up to his head, to his salt and pepper hair, and carded your hands through it, lifting his head and holding it in your fingertips. You watched as his eyebrows knitted together again, unsure, but then releasing, his mouth dropping open, as you heard his breath, ragged, escaping through his teeth.

‘Let me take care of you, baby,’ you whispered to him, right above his ear, mimicking what he had said to you on the coffee table, what had made you instantly wet and aching. You gazed down his body at the way his cock jumped. ‘Let me take care of this body.’

You let your fingers dig in a little to his scalp, a quiet little moan escaping him, the covering over his eyes giving him a sense of privacy as you unravelled him. You wanted to lean down and suck his bottom lip into yours, wanted to climb on top of him and sink your pussy onto his Roman nose. Wanted to come on his face and his fingers, wanted him to splash his come onto your chest.

‘This body that protects us,’ you whispered, leaning down and placing a kiss on his forehead, on his cheek beneath the towel. Putting his head back down and moving to massage his left arm, lifting it by the wrist and rubbing your hands over his bicep and onto his chest. He glistened, the oil mixing with his sweat under the overhead light, and you couldn’t stop yourself, then, couldn’t help but to bend and place a kiss on his clavicle, licking up to nip at his neck. You felt him shiver, a soft whimper escaping with his breath. You moved your hand from his wrist to his palm, held his hand with yours.

‘This body that serves us all so well,’ you said. ‘Let me take care of this body.’

He gasped when you kissed his belly button, licking and nipping down his happy trail to where his cock was now straining hard against the towel. You pushed it away, taking his cock out of his underwear and pulling them down on his hips, so that you got your first proper look at him.

As you expected he was thick, the veins on the underside pulsing, straining against his want for you. The head was so red it was almost purple, and you wondered how long it had been since a woman touched him like this, since he’d been touched at all. His hand grasped yours, the other fisting the towel underneath him.

When you slipped him into your mouth, inviting him into you, he groaned, grunted obscenities flowing from him. His cock was hot on your tongue, salty as he dripped pre-come into your throat. You kept your eyes on his face, his still covered, as his stomach rippled and his body tremored underneath you. With your other hand you steadied him, reaching up and holding the shaft while you bobbed, sucking hard on the head. You took a second to breathe, leaving little kitten licks on his frenulum, feeling his free hand let go of the towel and grip you by the hair.

‘Fuck, baby’ he grunted, his hips thrusting, pumping up into the air.

‘So strong, Joel,’ you said, before reattaching your mouth to him. He threw his head back, and you considered the irony of him breaking the brand-new table he’d built just for you by coming so hard he splintered the wood beneath him. His body was quaking, his hips bucking up into your wet, warm mouth and it was everything you had dared imagine it would be, right down to his gasping encouragement, down to his needy little whimpers that turned into moans of outright pleasure, of the feeling hot and electric right down to his toes.

‘Jesus, you’re gonna make me…’ he gasped, and you looked up at him, the towel having fallen from his eyes and him staring down at you between his legs, his hand on the back of your neck gentle and guiding, supporting the muscles as you worked him. You kept your eyes on his and your mouth on his cock as he shook, hips rolling, rutting against your pumping hand.

You slipped him from your mouth. ‘Just let go, baby. I got you,’ you said, covering him again as he did just that, shooting ropes of hot salt and desire across your tongue, holding your hand, groaning at the relief of it, at the release, and in that moment you had him, in that moment he was yours, gasping for breath and so soft and languid, looking down his body at you in awe and in wanting, sweat pooling in the hollow of his throat.

Taglist:

@orcasoul

@archofimagine

@hiroikegawa

@littlemisspascal

@ilovejoel-andjavi

@giggly-otter

@harrysrosetatto

@Hjzghi-blog

@daddy-dins-girl

[all-that-glitters-is-goldfish]

How would you seduce podiatrist Larys?

I think the girlies need to hear this!

Oops! Here's a short story for you.

Title: Dr. Strong

Pairing: Modern!Podiatrist!Larys Strong/Female Reader with foot fungus

You were surprised that the student health plan at Westerosi University had coverage to see an on-campus podiatrist. It was disappointing not to have dental insurance, but your current dilemma involved your toes, and not your teeth.

Your mother drilled it in your head before leaving for school.

Make sure you always wear your shower flip-flops. Those communal bathrooms are bacteria mines! Her voice echoed in your brain as you made your way into the small, brightly lit office where a handsome, muscular, curly-haired receptionist sat, his eyes glued to the computer screen in front of him.

Of course, your mother was right. One time. One time without shower shoes and your big toenail on the right foot turns a shade of Simpson yellow.

Foot fungus. You were sure of it.

And it was your resident advisor who suggested taking a visit to Dr. Strong's office down at the student health clinic.

You hand your ID to the receptionist. The silver rectangular nametag had HARWIN written in bold print. His large hands point to an empty exam room to his left. "Room 4. My brother will be with you in a minute."

The posters with graphic images of foot diseases along the walls made you queasy as you make yourself comfortable, sitting down and taking off your socks and sneakers.

As promised, Doctor Larys Strong entered the room not 5 minutes later, his greasy curls falling over his eyes as he limped towards you.

You felt a pain in your heart, seeing his struggle as it came to your understanding that this job must be personal to him.

"Good afternoon. I'm Doctor Strong. And you must be Miss Y/LN."

"Y/N is fine." You smile, his blue eyes shining brightly as he returns it.

"So what seems to be the problem today?" He flips up the chart in his hand, clicking the back of his pen, already jotting down several notes.

"Well... um..." You place your naked foot onto the stool provided in front of the chair, flexing your big yellow toenail.

His eyes divert to the ground and his cheeks seem to redden.

"Oh god... It's bad isn't it?" You panic. You knew it. Your toe would have to be amputated.

"Well-" Doctor Strong begins, leaning down, carefully supporting his weight on the wooden cane he carried with him. "It's definitely not ideal."

A tear rolls down your cheek. "Are- Are you going to chop my toe off?"

Larys' eyes shoot up to meet yours, carefully examining your expression, unsure if you were being serious. "Chop it-? No! Of course not. I'm just going to prescribe some anti-fungal cream and advise you to keep your feet dry."

"Oh thank god." You breathe out a huff of air you hadn't realized you had been holding.

"Might I be so bold?" The doctor interrupts your thoughts. "As to mention that yellow is my favourite colour." He smirks, causing you to chuckle, a tiny snort erupting from your nose as well.

"Oh..." You twirl your ankle around, examining the infected nail. "It's actually... mine too."

Your heart flutters has he takes your heel in the palm of his hand. "I feel like your gentle foot would benefit from a massage."

"I don't know if my coverage-" You begin.

"It would be on the house." He replies, his nose pressing against the skin and taking a sniff.

You're surprised by his actions, but you admit that the attention feels nice. Cinderella had always been your favourite Disney movie growing up, and though your sneakers were no glass slippers, you had still found a prince.

"Would it be possible if I could take some pictures of your feet... for the medical journal I am publishing, of course. Some before and after shots of the treatment progressing." Larys asks, and you nod shyly as he pulls out his phone.

Your foot still rests in his hand, as he snaps a few pics. Moaning as he does so, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

"Is everything okay?"

He nods. "I've had many patients walk through those doors... but none with feet so... immaculate as yours."

He puts his phone away as he finishes, quickly jotting down some more notes and handing you a prescription pad.

"Apply this cream twice daily and we should start seeing results within the next couple of weeks."

You nod, as he holds out his free hand to help you from the chair. "Follow the instructions closely. We don't want to risk the infection spreading... though a pop of colour isn't the most... horrible thing..."

You feel your face heat up with embarrassment and flattery.

"I would like to schedule you in for another appointment 4 weeks from today."

4 weeks? Could the throbbing between your thighs wait that long for your feet to be touched again?

"Yes, Doctor Strong."

"Please, call me Larys."

Tagging: @pendragora @aemonds-holy-milk @chompchompluke @the-invisible-queer @simp-aholic @worms-on-a-single-stringand @madame-fear as if I haven't traumatized ya'll enough today

[diegotruckeminis]

Does kerassentials work- Dr kimberly Foot Oil

[b-curelaser]

Foot pain is a prevalent issue that affects people of all ages and lifestyles. Whether it's caused by arthritis, toe fungus, or turf toe, foot pain can significantly impact daily activities and reduce the quality of life. Traditional treatment options often involve medications, physical therapy, or even surgery, but there's a game-changer on the horizon: laser therapy. In this blog, we will explore the remarkable potential of laser therapy in managing various foot conditions, its convenience and accessibility in clinics or podiatry centers, its non-invasive nature, and why readers should proactively consider laser therapy as a viable solution for foot pain.

[leam1983]

"Assume" makes an ass out of U and me...

It's the dead of summer, which for me equals Sweaty Toes Season. It also means Foot Fungus Alert Season, too. Athlete's Foot loves me like Jerry Lee Lewis loved his cousin, and it's as creepy as it sounds.

So, I'm at the drugstore yesterday, after my shift, and notice that the only stock of clotrimazole left is in the "pink aisle", to uncharitably refer to women's health products. Seeing as the same thing that handles yeast infections absolutely chews through Athlete's Foot, I pick up a tube and drop by the counter. The kid at the register is maybe eighteen at best, and she gives me an odd look.

"Is there something wrong?" I ask.

She shrugs, trying to play off her surprise - and her slight disgust. "Nothing; it's just that you're sort of young to be using a walker - and that's women's stuff."

I smile with teeth. "I see. Well, the uncharitable answer to both questions would have to be 'Nunya', but I could also mention that there's no molecular difference between general antifungal and clotrimazole cream that's specifically marketed for the treatment of yeast infections. It's the same thing, just packaged in two different tubes - with the Pink Tax applying for the second one."

She blinks. "You're not a doctor, how do you know?"

I blink back. "How do you know I'm not a doctor? Should I look like Hugh Laurie and pack a cane instead of a walker?"

The poor kid is in the weeds. "So... You're a doctor?"

My smile widens. "No, actually. Now is the part where you ask me what Nunya is."

"What's Nunya?"

"Nunya Business. And I'll be paying with debit, thanks."

[toomany-fandomsatonce]

I am insane so here is my list of nicknames for Tobias Forge. Please give me suggestions for ones I can add.

Tax Fraud

Toblerone Fudge

Toad Frog

Taco Friday

Tutti Fruitti

Toe Fungus

Tooth Fairy

Talking Flemish

Tall Flesh

Toxic Flowers

Technology Frogs

Turbulent Freckles

Thick Face

Tender Fucker

Thigh Floor

Titty Fungus

Tornados Fiddle

Truculent Fig

Territory Fire

Tickly Fractions

Tummy Fights

Teenage Frenchman

Tail Fucker

Tea Finder

Toe Friends

Tag Fights

Tub Fire

Top Front

Tiktok Fuckboy

Tumbling Fuck

Tooth Frog

Tiny Feret

Tumblr Fanboys

Today Federal

Trying Format

Type Formal

Trail Font

Terrorists Fingers

Tale Foreskin

Tuesday Fries

Thursday February

Tutorial Fungi

Tight Fit

Tranquil Form

Ten Feet

Tool Fangs

Trowel Food

Tower Flow

Took Forever

Treatment Favourite

Tormented Faculties

Torture Factory

Tartan Flag

Tingly Function

Twins Fox

Twat Fertility

Turnip Fabric

Tudor Fashion

Train Footage

Take Friendship

Thanks Fan

Telling Friendliness

Terrain Fun

Terror Fin

Told Fool

Toggle Flannel

Trousers Flem

Terzo's Family

Time Flies

Then Filtered

Twig Found

Tiger Fear

T-rex Fringes

Tween False

Twitter Facebook

Titanium Fewer

Taxidermy Frontier

Toepiss Frugal

Topic Feature

Topless Features

Tuned Facial

Tank France

Thanks Finland

Terms Failed

Tickletoes Football

Transparent Fluff

Transgender Federal

Translate Free

Teal Feat

Turquoise Foggy

The Federation

There Following

Teeth Floppy

Troubled Financial

Tobussy Fun

Tobacco Fungal-biologist

Tiebreaker Fluid

Toebeans Flattering

Tyrannosaurus Fillings

Tuna Follicle

Thalerophagous Family-Disturbance

Toyota Ford