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#deficiencies and pickles
thebigbiwolf · 6 months
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Someone didn't get his natural sun today and is a bit miffed over it.
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zimmerdouche · 1 year
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ok, who on smh drinks pickle juice for their post workout tho
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nyanto5 · 1 year
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I'd call it saltwater in everyday use even if it is much more dilute than the sea. (what an ecologist might call brackish) If you've just sweated or otherwise excreted out a load of electrolytes it can be better to drink slightly salty water than pure. Ianad.
i appreciate the genuine answer but this was a post made because i wanted to joke about a wizard accidentally giving himself the shits brewing potions with seawater
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ovytia-art · 7 months
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What's your favorite thing to put on a hot dog?
Pickled peppers
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matchstickz · 1 year
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girls who drink vinegar unite!!!!
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tittysuckersworld · 1 year
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know what? fuck gender norms. *chugs pickles and soy sauce even tho I'm nonbinary*
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tinderfishboy · 1 year
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ooh girl i am always eating frozen breakfast burritos they are 90% of my diet
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fatzorro · 1 year
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I experienced some kind of pickle madness today. This afternoon I saw a jar of pickles in the fridge and thought "hmm I haven't had one of these bad boys in a while" so I enjoyed one.
Then at 3 am tonight as I was trying to sleep my eyes SNAPPED open and I literally felt like if I didn't have more pickles I would die. I proceeded to get out of bed and eat the entire jar of pickles. Since then I've forgone going back to bed to look up several pickling recipes, research the nutritional content of pickles vs. cucumbers, and fantasize about leaving my life behind to move to a tiny town and sell homemade artisanal pickles. What is wrong with me
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homunculus-argument · 2 months
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I can respect peoples' freedom to go "pickles and mustard are yucky :c" but I will be over here absolutely fucking deranged over everything pickled, brined, or in any way produced or seasoned with vinegar, looking like this:
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(I probably have some sort of a nutritional deficiency. The precise details of why exactly I am covered in blood remain unclear.)
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pillsandumbrellas · 1 month
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Could you extend on the fat/water for fuel thing you said while fasting please?? Also, some tips? Like you've done this for such a long time it's so impressive
I'm not 100% sure what you're referring to. I'm assuming you're asking about what your body requires to function while still fasting. I'll go into a lot of detail regarding this since I feel like it's important. First of all I'd like to preface this by stating that everyone is different. Some people have deficiencies or immune issues or blood pressure.. the list goes on issues. Before even considering a fast, know your body and it's requirements. I would hate for someone to read anything I write and take my word for it and do something that harms them. I couldn't live that, so please do your research. Regarding what your body needs; if you're already a very thin person, don't fast. You have to understand that when you're eating, your body is burning calories for fuel. When you're not eating, it switches to burning fat. This is ketosis. A lot of the goal of a ketogenic diet is to switch the body over to burning fat for fuel. This is the biggest reason for why people have a really goddamn hard time the first few days of fasting or even starting keto. What people refer to as "keto-flu." It's your body protesting against your switching over to burning fat, when burning calories is so much easier and it's instant energy. Burning fat is a lot more work. So, if you're already thin, your body won't have much fat to burn through. What your body will do instead if burn through muscle and organ tissue. You REALLY do not want that. Bear in mind that even if you have fat deposits, muscle loss is likely to occur anyway, as your body may burn through muscle it thinks you don't necessarily have use for. If you go past a 36h fast, autophagy also begins to occur where your body starts to heal itself. I personally love this and have healed my acne scars through this. I had really bad acne scars and now I have maybe a couple I can see if I look reaaally closely. Putting that aside. You need hydration A LOT of water, and you need fasting minerals (electrolytes). These are mainly sodium, magnesium, and potassium. Now I personally just make snake juice at home, because I like control over what I put inside myself. Water=2L | Potassium chloride =1 tsp | Sodium chloride = 1/2 tsp | Sodium Bicarbonate = 1 tsp Magnesium Sulphate = 1/2 tsp Now it's up to a person to know how long they can fast and how long they should fast, however if you're planning an extended fast. I cannot stress enough to get a general check-up, get professional help during your fast if you can, and monitor your blood pressure and blood sugar levels. Some things I experienced through my many fasts has been throwing up by the way. Usually around day 7-14. I was able to fix this with a mixture of a table spoon of apple cider vinegar and pickle juice. I couldn't drink snake juice anymore, because it was too concentrated it made me feel ill. However the pickle juice had enough minerals to keep me satiated without being overwhelming and the apple cider vinegar balanced me out. No these do not break the fast. This is medically proven to aid with fasting, I didn't just come up with this btw. Also you may find yourself bloated with water as you lose weight and your body decides that it wants to fill the fat you lost with water. Potassium supplements can help with this. Just be careful with your dosage. Little goes a long way. You will pee A LOT. This is normal. You'll pee a lot in the beginning of your fast, as you drop water weight, especially when you got to bed. It slows down towards the middle when your body starts packing on the water. Potassium makes you start the hose again though. Anyway I hope this helps some people, gives some insight. Be careful. Take care of your bodies. Don't be stupid. I can do stupid things, but I try to be a self-aware and well informed idiot. That way I don't have anyone but myself to blame, because I know better.
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cringefaildiaz · 11 months
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oops, thought too hard about "I don't believe in magic, I believe in chemistry" "oh, it's science, I see" and "works like magic" and Buck's experience working in construction and I accidentally wrote a 6x17 coda
On the difference between magic and chemistry, and their relationship to thermoset adhesives
6x17 coda, ~860 words
“I have never been so excited to get a call from you,” Buck says, barging into the house with a plastic bag bearing the name of a local craft store on his arm.
“Glad my deficiencies are so thrilling,” Eddie breathes out. He’s trying to focus on the pieces of the model in front of him–Chris’ drafts are irritatingly well-labeled, which makes how much he’s struggling to piece them together that much more embarrassing. 
“Ah,” Buck grins, quirking an eyebrow as he settles down next to Eddie, drawing the model pieces away from Eddie to sit in front of him instead, “but it takes real wisdom to know when to call in the experts.”
He plucks the wall Eddie’s attempting to position from his fingertips, flipping it around and slotting it in place, right where it belongs. Eddie has the passing thought that maybe he should feel a little bit like he’s failing, needing Buck to come help him assemble his own kid’s design; he doesn’t, though. There was a twinge of it–when he was sitting here alone, staring at the pieces laid out on the coffee table, trying to make sense of it all–but calling Buck never feels like admitting defeat. It hasn't for a long, long time. 
“Sorry to drag you over here. I’m sure you have better things to do on your 48 off,” Eddie says, not really meaning a word of it until–“Shit, you didn’t have plans with Natalia, did you?”
Buck looks away from the model pieces for the first time since he sat down, his gaze dropping into his lap. On his next inhale, his face cracks into a rueful smile Eddie’s seen too many times before. Maybe it's a little presumptuous to think he can read Buck’s insecurities in the tilt of his mouth, but Eddie’s pretty sure Buck can read him the same way.
“No, I, uh–” he stutters out, and Eddie wants to scream at the world for putting him through this, whatever it turns out to be this time, on top of everything else. “I think that’s probably over. Kameron showed up at my place while we were having dinner, and I had just had to tell her about Taylor, and we had run into Lucy the other night, and–I don’t know. Seemed like maybe it was too much for her.”
Seems like I was too much for her, Buck doesn’t say, but Eddie reads it in the wobble of his not-quite-right smile and the sadness behind his eyes.
“Anyways,” Buck says with a grin, a real one this time, “that’s why I was so glad you called.” 
Eddie’s heart doesn’t skip in his chest, because what the hell would that say about him? Buck barrels on, “Kameron showed up at the loft looking for a place to stay–don’t ask, she was freaking out so much she wasn’t speaking in full sentences; except, conveniently, to tell me she really needed pickles; but I don’t know what’s happening with her and Connor–and then passes out in my bed, so I was stuck on the couch, and it sucks, Eddie, it’s so uncomfortable.”
“Well,” Eddie replies smoothly, somehow–despite the fact that he’d barely registered the majority of Buck’s run-on sentence, still stuck on the way his own breath hitched when he thought Buck had meant he was glad Eddie asked him to come over because–not important. There’s a bigger task at hand. “Glad I can offer you mine, at least,” Eddie says, gesturing at the couch, “for the small price of helping me put my kid’s genius plans together.”
“Like I wouldn’t do that anyway,” and Buck’s smiling so wide as he props the last wall up, it makes Eddie’s chest ache. Why is his chest aching? 
“Task at hand,” Buck says, nodding down at the level’s four walls he’s holding in place, “where’s the glue?”
“Epoxy,” Eddie says, grabbing it off the table and uncapping it, bringing it down to the point where the balsa walls meet the plastic base they’re building on, “I ran into Marisol, that woman whose house we helped fix up last fall, at the hardware store. She said this one ‘works like magic.’” 
As Eddie draws the little tube around the base of the four walls, hands slipping under and around Buck’s while they hold them steady, Buck goes suspiciously silent. Eddie glances up at Buck hovering over him, where he's now leaning awkwardly over the table to reach the model where Buck had pulled it in front of himself. There’s a funny look on Buck’s face where it looks down at Eddie, and this time he can't quite interpret the emotion behind it.
“It’s not magic,” Buck says, a little more pointedly than Eddie would expect for his usually whimsical nature, “It’s chemistry. I read about it a few weeks ago, when Chris was building that model water molecule for his science class out of styrofoam–we didn’t know why super glue wasn’t working and I went down a rabbit hole–anyways, its,” and he inhales, for the first time since he started talking, “it thermosets, that’s why it’s so strong. It’s chemistry.”
Forged in fire, Eddie thinks, and he doesn’t know what to do with that.
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goddesspharo · 3 months
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Sugar's pregnancy cravings are batshit; luckily, crazy food provides her Bear fam with a perfect distraction from the equally insane task of living life.
[Send me the first sentence and a pairing and I'll write the next five.]
Sugar's pregnancy cravings are batshit, but since everyone else is either an experimental chef or a fucking Fak, only Richie seems to be concerned that there might be a serious nutritional deficiency causing them. Honestly, if Sugar hadn't shown him the sonogram last week when he found her crying in the bathroom over impending motherhood ("Natalie, if I can parent a kid without completely fucking her up, you're going to make it so that your kid overcomes Pete's genes and joins Mensa!"), Richie would've driven her to the hospital to get checked for pica right now in the middle of Sugar's tirade about how far up the ass Richie will have to take it from the health inspector if he tries to explain that they didn't hire professionals because "the mold wasn't that black or moldy."
Richie's not trying to judge a pregnant woman's right to eat whatever she wants. Tiff consumed so many bananas when she was pregnant with Eva that he's still mad at himself for not buying stock in Chiquita. She'd have them sliced with her morning oatmeal, baked into bread as a post-prenatal yoga snack, smashed into PB&B sandwiches for lunch, frozen and dipped in chocolate the weekend the AC crapped out while Fak was in Philly for a Fucking Fak Family Reunion, and once even flambéed when Richie made forgive me for missing the anatomy scan because Mikey was on a bender and about to hurl himself off the State Street Bridge apology dessert. At one point, Richie had to google if banana toxicity was a thing and then kept worrying even after Google said that it wasn't.
But there's a difference between eating tons of fruit and whatever the hell is happening with Sugar's taste buds right now. Richie decides that Carmy and Sydney are using her cravings to soft launch their chaos menu once Syd puts down a plate of pickled zucchini coated in Marcus' leftover birthday cake batter, deep fried in ghee, and dusted with confectioners' sugar.
"Bet that would taste so good dipped in Smuckers ice cream topping," Fak suggests because he doesn't need to be pregnant to have the palate of a garbage compactor.
"Please don't eat that with that," Richie begs when Natalie trades Fak a bottle of Pepto for the jar of fudge he just took out of the microwave.
"Fuck off, Richie," Sugar snaps with a glare that makes it clear that she's not above murdering him and pinning it on pregnancy hormones. "I'm growing a human being inside me!"
Debatable, he wants to say because he's not entirely sure that they're in Juno instead of Alien, but Richie bites his tongue because he really doesn't want to have to put his last twenty-dollar bill in the asshole jar again.
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thatwritingho · 4 months
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Finger Foods Update!
Featuring @m3gahet 's Robin Greeves!
On Balcony's Ledge
Summary: There's much Robin and Olive have in common - Shitty childhoods with shitty fathers, asshole brothers, and anger issues; oral fixations and smoking habits; and also... a love of balcony ledges? One of these things is not like the others. Pairing: Robin Greeves and Olive Axworthy Rating: General Background: Another Oc x Oc piece! m3gahet has drawn Olive & Robin a few times now. I now adore them together🥺
Read on AO3 or below!
The door to the balcony flung open, and Olive knew who was there without looking. This balcony wasn't necessarily theirs — the guys would routinely come out here to pester them, after all, and St. Cecilia would join them when visiting Mordhaus — but they were the ones out here the most. With a huff of frustration, Robin wordlessly climbed up onto the ledge next to Olive, cigarette pack in hand as she crossed her legs on the stone wall. Flicking her lighter a few times, she began to curse, irritation mounting.
“Oh, come on, you goddamn stupid little shithead piece of mother fucking hot garba– oh. Thanks.”
Robin's tirade at the small plastic Bic — swiped from Skwisgaar who had swiped it from Pickles before that, the corner crusted with resin — was cut off as Olive extended her arm with Zippo in hand, flame lit and ready. Robin leaned forward with a gentle flush to light the cigarette in her mouth, the action feeling entirely too intimate for what it was, immediately calming as smoke filled her lungs.
“You're welcome. Bad day?”
“Something like that…” Robin trailed off with a sigh. She didn't want to get into it, to talk about how the anniversary of that was coming up, how it made everything so much more difficult to deal with — the stress of the job more fraying, the guys more irritating, interpersonal relationships more complicated. Instead, she merely said, “...just a rough patch. I haven't been taking my multivitamin.”
“Uh-huh,” Olive raised a brow, exhaling a cloud of smoke as dark eyes narrowed in knowing suspicion at her companion. Chewing at her gum thoughtfully, she kicked the heels of her boots against the stone wall, feet dangling over the edge in a way that Pickles always nagged her over.
Hm. Robin was normally a much better liar than that.
“Want me to run some labs on you? There's a lot of vitamin deficiencies that could be causing a dip in mood. You know, a vitamin D deficiency can caus-”
Glancing to the other woman out of the corner of her eye, a small grin curled Robin's lips as Olive rambled, only growing when the other woman somehow ended up on a tangent about Rickets in Victorian England, sucking down a second cigarette as she listened.
“-anyway,” inhaling a breath, embarrassment heated Olive’s cheeks as she wrapped up her monologue, reeling herself back in, “yeah. We can swing by the medical wing later.”
“...okay.” Robin's grin was sticking, stretching her cheeks, now, amused. It had just been a quick little white lie, but… it was nice that she cared, “Yeah, sure. Why the hell not, doctor?”
Mouth going dry at her inflection, Olive bit her lip, averting her eyes out to the horizon, “Um, yeah. Cool.”
Robin grinned smugly — another point for her.
“Yeah. Cool.”
Silence settled over the pair, long, curling tendrils of wispy white smoke billowing in the breeze as the early twinkles of starlight began to dot the purpled sky. Orange heated the horizon as the sun clung to the earth, its clutches slipping into pink as the sky rose.
“Robbi, you know you can talk about it… right?” Olive's voice was soft, barely above a whisper, as if speaking any louder may scare the other woman off.
Hell, Robin thought, she may be right.
“Yeah… yeah. I know.” Robin kept her own voice low to match, tamping out her cigarette on the stone and carelessly tossing the butt over the edge, watching it fall to depths she couldn't see.
“Need me to kick anyone's ass? Maim someone? Kill? Decapitate, perhaps? You know that's my favorite.”
Robin laughed, a bit strained and a bit listless, but still a laugh, all the same, “Not this time. I'll take a rain check, though? May come in handy.”
“Of course. What are friends for, if not for delivering severed heads on silver platters when the other has been wronged?”
The sentiment wormed into Robin's chest, inspiring complicated emotions. The air was crisp in her lungs as she closed her eyes, inhaling a deep, slow breath, a gust of wind chilling her despite her blazer.
And then, there was warm.
A hand, small and soft, gently grasping her own, snaking their fingers together. As Robin turned, lips met hers, soft and pillowy, Robin's face heating as she returned the kiss, cupping Olive's face in her hand and parting her lips to sneak her tongue into the other woman's mouth. Their lips met again and again until Robin was left with a big, genuine smile as they parted, face softly flushed, eyes hooded and playful as she chewed the gum in her mouth.
It took a moment, but the dark eyes mirrored back at her soon switched from being clouded in want to narrowed in accusation, the hot flush on Olive's cheeks only adding to the cuteness of the expression.
“Hey! That was my last piece!”
Unable to resist, Robin pinched her cheek before hopping down and sauntering off, laugh shaping her words as she turned back, hand on the door handle, “Shut up. I'll buy you another pack.”
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androgynousblackbox · 8 months
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To every person that has ever suggested that "just give the kid into adoption" as a "solution" for unwanted pregnancies, I want to make you a deal: Gimme your body. Let me get inside. And I will get inside, but not when you expect it or planned for it. Don't worry, I will make sure to be the biggest inconvenience in your life I can be. Maybe I will make me entering your body a little bit traumatic, just as a treat. It will only be for nine months after all. Come on, it will be fun! Like a little nine month pajama party where I get to have all the fun and you vomit before craving pickles with whipped cream. I will kick your organs when you try to read, it will be hilarious. You can go wait for your turn to visit the doctor and pee in your seat because I kicked your bladder without any warning. I hope you are not especially attached to your hair and nails, pal, because I will be needing those nutrients for me. We don't want to be selfish now, do we? Oh, and your bone density is gone so don't be surprised if a teeth falls out. You have a good dentist anyway, don't you? Wigs aren't that expensive either. You will fine. You can say goodbye to any physical activity that ever gave you pleasure and your work too, if your boss refuses to pay your leave or rehire you after the nine month. Or they do that shitty thing where they hire you, but make it so horrible that you end up quitting anyway. But it's okay. I am sure you will find some way to pay the doctor, the bills and our food. You will figure out. Probably. Me? Don't be silly, I am inside your body, how could I pay for anything here? Supportive parents or family could be very useful here, do you have those at hand? Because if don't, oh boy, I don't want to be in your place. In your body I will fine though. I will get to make you don't fit any of the clothes you had before. That energy your had before, give it up, come on, you know I need it more. You are so lucky that everyone arounds you is so understanding and won't ever look down on you because you will need a break, and you don't know how long it will last. I hope you didn't pick any illness or infection or I don't die inside of you, because here's the thing: if that happens, I am taking you down with me. We are on this thing together, right to the end. It happens more frequently than you think. And then, after the nine month, I will come out, don't worry. A deal is a deal. I will come out through your genitalia, just like we agreed, and maybe rip it all the way to your asshole, just for fun. What is a little more blood between friends, am I right? But I heard doctors can do wonder about that nowadays, so you will probably be fine. Maybe, I don't know. You were the one who borrowed their body for this, not me. It will be the worst pain that you ever had in your life, I will make sure of that. Like a saw cutting you in half and then setting your nerves on fire. Even with all the drugs they could give you, and that if you manage to reach the hospital in time in the first place, you will notice I am there, making my way down town through the body you gave to me. It could take hours, or so I am told. Sometimes it even last days. Isn't that exciting? Maybe you will shit the bed a couple of times, and that is not nice, but I will forgive you because we are friends. You will still have to refrain from sex for a few weeks, maybe months even. You could develop some kind of permanent deficiency. Oh, I don't really garantee I will give you back the things I took, upsie daisy! You could even die from an infection or blood loss. But hey. It was only nine months. And I won't have to deal with whatever is left of you, so why should I care?
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chickenparm · 2 years
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get to know your blogger but it's foul questions
When was the last time you took a shit?
Do you scrunch the toilet paper or fold it?
How much money would you need to be paid before you drink puddle water from downtown Chicago?
A man offers you $20 in the gas station parking lot to show your feet. Do you take the offer? Elaborate.
How many times will you re-wear a shirt before you wash it?
When was the last time you ate your boogers?
What's the longest you've willingly gone without taking a bath/shower?
You find $100 in a wallet on the sidewalk. Do you turn it in, or do you buy ~90 Arizona Arnold Palmers?
How fast do you think you could eat a Van Hortens Hot Pickle?
What's your favorite animal? Would you kiss it on the lips?
You suddenly find out you're allergic to peanuts. How long do you think you could last before breaking down and having a PB&J Uncrustable?
There's a gun to your head and you have to pick a shape of acrylic nails to be put on you. What do you pick?
Who is your favorite Spice Girl?
Are you a cop?
Tell us what you really think.
Have you taken your multivitamin today? Why not? I know you're Vitamin D deficient, you neet.
If you had to be in a contest and if you don't put forth your best effort, you immediately piss your pants on national television - how many hot dogs do you think you could hork in 5 minutes?
What's your favorite Dr. Scholl's gel insert?
Do you have any pets? Yes or no, please do not elaborate.
What's your go-to hair mangling method when you're having a manic episode?
When was the last time you thought about the 1999 cinematic masterpiece "The Mummy" starring Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz?
Where were you on the night of March 14th?
How much money is in your 401k?
Do you think dogs should vote?
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legendaryandroid · 6 months
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No Accounting for Taste
Fandom: Octopath Traveler: Champions of the Continent Words: 827 Summary: Modern AU shenanigans between Prome, Stead, and Millard
Prome was reading in the living room when Stead walked in, carrying an open pickle jar in one hand, and stated, “I need a favor.”
Looking up from his book, Prome raised his eyebrows and asked, “And what is this favor?”
“Well first of all,” Stead said, delicately swirling the liquid in the pickle jar like it was some fine wine, “I need you to not tell Millard.”
“That sounds like a favor I should not grant,” Prome admitted.
Stead hummed, taking a sip from the jar in his hand, “Okay, but I promise I’ll make it worth your while. You see-”
Prome lost track of what Stead was saying, his focus instead narrowing in on the pickle jar, the slightest hint of nausea in the back of his throat, “Did you really drink that?”
Pausing, Stead looked at the jar in his hand, then at Prome, then a slow smirk curled its way across his face. “Of course, why let it go to waste?”
Revulsion rocketed through Prome, and he stared at Stead in bewilderment, he opened up his mouth to argue, but he was cut short by Millard appearing, looming up behind Stead and asking, “Did I hear someone say my name?”
Stead’s eyes went wide for a moment, but he quickly put on a casual smile as he turned around, “Millard! You must’ve misheard, we haven’t mentioned you at all. Right Prome?” Stead asked, glancing over at Prome.
He didn’t answer, simply staring in disbelief and a little disgust as Stead took another drink of the pickle juice.
Millard didn’t notice, brightening up in interest as Stead drank, “Oh! May I have some?” 
Stead raised an eyebrow, “You want a drink…” he lifted up the jar, “Of this?”
“Yes please.”
“Be me guest,” Stead said with an amused shrug, handing the jar to Millard while the corner of his eye flicked to Prome.
Who could only watch as horror as Millard happily swallowed a mouthful of brine. The only conciliation Prome had that Millard had not gone fully insane was that Millard frowned in distaste after drinking it.
“This isn’t pickle juice,” Millard said, “Why are you drinking gatorade out of a pickle jar?”
Scratch that, there was no conciliation in this. Had he been transported to another universe? Why did Millard sound so disappointed that he wasn’t drinking pickle juice?
“Hold on,” Stead said in surprise, “You honestly wanted to drink pickle juice?” “Yes?” Millard answered in confusion, tilting his head to the side, “I like it as a treat, though it’s been awhile since I’ve had some. Not since I was a kid, I think.”
Stead stared at Millard like he had grown a second head, “Pickle juice is a treat?”
Millard frowned, “Sometimes you crave salt, and pickle juice is a yummy way to get it. Plus, it’s good for you.”
Stead’s surprise faded, replaced with amusement as he teased, “Why not just eat the pickle?”
“It’s not the same,” Millard stated, “It doesn’t satisfy in the same way.”
Prome felt lightheaded, feeling far away as he asked faintly, “Are you certain you do not have some nutrition deficiency that has you craving pickle juice?”
“No,” Millard denied, oddly fierce, “My Mom had me tested for such things, and nothing came up.”
Crossing his arms with a smirk, Stead quipped, “Did your Mom get you tested because you kept drinking pickle juice?”
Millard’s shoulders came up to his ears, gaze glancing down and away from Stead as he replied, “... I don’t have to answer that.”
Stead’s delight was palpable as he exclaimed, “She did!”
“I didn’t say anything of the sort,” Millard muttered, backing out of the room, Stead’s jar of gatorade still in hand. “You can’t prove anything,” Millard continued, disappearing around a corner and into the kitchen, "I am leaving this conversation. Goodbye."
“I’ll just call your Mom later and ask her!” Stead called after him, to which there was no response.
There was a beat of silence. 
Then Stead turned. 
Stepping quickly up to Prome, he said in an almost urgent tone of voice,
“So about that favor you owe me.”
“Owe you,” Prome repeated, not quite comprehending.
“Yes,” Stead said, “I need you to-”
Millard’s voice cut through the house, incredulous and indignant, “Stead, what did you do to all of the glasses!?”
“Oops, nevermind. Too late,” Stead said with a shrug. “See ya later Prome,” and with a smirk and two fingered wave, Stead strode past Prome and out the backdoor.
Prome watched him go for a moment, but then sighed as he returned to his reading, the sounds of Millard’s yells as he chased Stead around the yard and Stead’s chuckles as he evaded Millard wafting around him as he did.
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