Baki Pickle Novels & Stories

He walked briskly through the quiet streets, his mind filled with a mix of concern and determination. Upon reaching the nearest convenience store, Azure scanned the shelves, his eyes searching for the unusual combination Francine had asked for. The pickle jars gleamed under the fluorescent lights, while the array of sweet sauces beckoned to him from a nearby aisle. Azure carefully selected a jar of pickles and a container of hot fudge sauce. He couldn't help but shake his head in disbelief at the combination, wondering how such a craving could even arise.

Another word people used when they didn’t want to finish the thought. The third thing was the food. Specifically, pickles. Kelly despised pickles. Hated them with a passion that bordered on moral outrage. She once sent a burger back because the pickle juice had touched the bun. Now I caught her at two a.m., barefoot in my kitchen, eating them straight from the jar. I blinked at her. “Are you… are you eating pickles?” She froze, caught red-handed, green spear halfway to her mouth. “I…” She sighed. “Don’t make it weird.”

"Why were you just leaning back when she was trying to kiss you?" "I didn't want to touch her," he said and I rolled my eyes, okay. "If you say so," I shrugged and bit into the snack that was in my hand. "What are you eating?" He asked me and I looked down at the pickle in my hand. "Pickles." "You don't like pickles, you always remove them in your sandwiches and burgers," Observant much? "Because who the hell puts those things in there? Besides, I was craving it today," I shrugged as I walked back to the living room with the jar in my hand.

I would dip my pickles into that strawberry ice cream and savor every bite. Pickles dipped in strawberry ice cream have been one of the things I have been craving over the last two weeks. Also, in the mornings, I have to have three waffles with peanut butter and syrup and two glasses of milk. I have also craved Mexican food, hence the tacos that I would eat before I dove into my pickles and strawberry ice cream. I can't wait until Blaze gets home.

Before I got pregnant I used to hate them. Damn asshole had to eat my pickles. I spent the next 10 minutes crying over the floor pickle. Not even a minute later Valerie arrived home. "I'm home and I brought groceries" She shouted. "Foodie" I exclaimed, looking through the bags to find a jar of pickles and a jar of PB. I was ultimately satisfied as I ate a peanut butter covered pickle. I sat in the chair that was close to the island, and munched on the pickles. Val, Mikey and Liyah were unpacking the bags, I helped out when I saw something I wanted to eat before putting it up.

I picked up the pickled jaw in my hands and made my way to my bedroom. The tangy scent of the pickles hit me the moment I opened the jar, instantly making my mouth water. I grabbed a fat, juicy gherkin with my fingers, ignoring the way the brine dripped down my wrist, and popped it into my mouth. The sharp, vinegary flavor exploded on my tongue, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

I started craving pickles and peanut butter. Not like I wanted them. I needed them. Like my bones were screaming for it. Woke up at 4 a.m. thinking about the smell of dill vinegar. Dreamed about dipping a pickle spear into a spoonful of that cheap, oily peanut butter from the 99¢ store. At work, the smell of onions made me run to the bathroom to puke. Came back, shaky, and just stared at the peanut butter jar in the pantry like it owed me money.

His expression softened and he set the jars down before walking over to me. “Silver I would drive across three territories at three in the morning if it meant making you happy. Pickles are nothing.” “They’re not nothing to me.” I opened the first jar and pulled out a pickle taking a huge crunchy bite. The taste was exactly right and I actually moaned in relief. “Oh my god these are perfect.” Bastian sat down across from me and watched me eat pickles straight from the jar with a small smile on his face. “You’re adorable when you’re like this.”

, she asked, resting her chin on her palm. "Pickle?", I exclaimed. I didn't know a pizza eater girl could love pickle also. It was not a rich thing. I recalled the flavour of tasty pickles which my mother used to make. I was really fond of them. Just like Zoya, I used to love the combination of tangy pickle and tortilla. "Yeah. I'm missing it. My momma makes tasty pickles. Do you have some?", she demanded like a kid. "Well. Sorry, but I don't know how to make it. Besides, I'm a bachelor. I never inclined towards learning it", I sighed.

Emma said with a dreamy sigh as she made her way to the box. "The ice cream you requested is present. You know that right?" Zoey asked her with a smile. "Well, I want everything. Pickles also and maybe pizza." "As the health personnel present, I have to tell you to take a rest and eat something healthy." Piper said to her with a smile also. "What are pickles?" Zoey replied with a laugh "drunk cucumbers." Piper gave them both an eye roll "I mean like carrots and fresh vegetables not drunk ones like pickles."