Don't Turn Me Into A Marketable Plushie Mga Nobela at Kwento

Pathetic. I returned to the club, of course. This time I was wearing something from my closet, something I had never worn before and something I hadn't sold. It was the one thing I probably wasn't going to sell until I got a chance to wear it. It was light, nudish pink, almost the same color as my skin, but sparkly. With plenty of cutouts showing all kinds of skin, enticing people to touch and sample. I shivered at the thought of whose mouth would end up where, worshipping me the way I deserved.

I liked how enthusiastic she was about this, because it finally gave us an opportunity to be normal people again, and not two strangers pretending to live normal lives around each other. “It can’t just be cupcakes we sell,” Lily said for the third time, aggressively underlining something. “That’s basic. Everyone does cupcakes. We should think of adding something else that we can make.” “It’s Miami,” I said, leaning back carefully against the couch cushions. One hand rested over my stomach without me thinking about it. “If we package them in pastel boxes and call them homemade, people will buy them.” “That’s lazy marketing,” Lily said, rolling her eyes.

"If you're just going to get in a mood every time I mention the market or selling you, why do you ask so many questions? It's not as if we have anything else to talk about." I whirled around to face him. "Because I don't want you to sell me!" I yelled, so cross I'd have thrown anything I held at him. Thankfully for him my hands had been empty. "I want to be free, like I was before, but even if I can't have that, I don't want to be taken to a market and sold like cattle. I'm more than that." "But you're worth so much! Anyone would be proud to command such a high price."

"I'm not getting fat, Pips. I'm just... really hydrated." "Oh, please. You're hydrated in all the wrong places. You're starting to have chubby arms." I look down at my arms. They look the exact same as they did last week. Mark is sitting across from us, holding his slice with both hands like it's some kind of holy religious artifact. "You know what I think, ladies? I think I should turn into a femboy. Just for a month. See if I can land a billionaire who pays for all my food and sends me these fancy lunches."

“Not like that. I’ve got eyes everywhere in the city. You stand out. That fight earlier? Word travels. You handled it. Most girls run. You? You keep going. That’s hot. Marketable.” “Marketable?” I snapped, voice rising again. The bodyguards shifted a little but stayed put. “I’m not a product. I’m a girl who’s tired of men deciding my shit. Kai trying to yank the hoodie off, you grabbing me in the alley. What next? You gonna tie me up for real if I say no?”

"Riley! Didn't you just say you wouldn't be a clueless spender anymore? 80 dollars for a pile of stuffing doesn't fit our consumption logic!" "No, it does," I said, holding her hand firmly. "Eve, you're amazing. You calculate the value of every penny with extreme precision, but you've never calculated your own happiness in monetary terms. You're not paying this 80 dollars for polyester or cotton." I stuffed the plush toy into her arms. "You're paying for that feeling of comfort when you come home after a long day and see this little guy waiting for you. You absolutely deserve this 'emotional markup.'"

Smiling at the kind human, Wanda shook her head and retrieved the mysterious package. “That would be nice, but you don’t have to go all the way out to create a stream for that. If anything, I would like you to keep this safe until the showcase of the world’s first million-dollar dildo. It’s one of a kind, and the marketing of this baby can help drastically change the public’s standing about sex toys. Please glamourise it in your next stream. We will make some changes to the existing office layout over the next few days, so let us know if you have any ideas. The more expensive-looking, the better.”

“Everything is a thing! You could totally sue them for that. And you’re not fat.” I smiled. “Thank you, but I don’t want or need to sue anyone. I’m never going to be everyone’s cup of tea and I’m okay with that. I wouldn’t want to buy anything from someone like that. I don’t want to sue them and give them any free advertisement.” She shook her head. “I’m tempted to go back in there and give her a piece of my mind.” “Let it go. It serves no purpose. Let her think what she wants. I would never fit into those dresses and even if I did, it would not be a flattering look.”

It wasn't like I didn't have parents who could, but it was almost impossible to believe such a thing was possible. “You don't have to say anything, sweet, and don't feel pressured by it. You can do whatever you want with it. The artifacts, the couch, the designs, the flowers. You can sell them. Burn them, do whatever it is that you desire with them, I don't care, but what I actually do care about is you knowing that I will do whatever it is and anything possible to make sure that you don't have to suffer while with me. That is the whole essence of being your mate.” “But I can't. I can't take this, then. They are all too much. What am I to do with them all?” I couldn't find the words, as I wa

So, after a couple of ‘magic tricks' to get a hold of some money, I could easily afford a meal and a place to stay didn’t come hard to find either. What I did notice were the cute little plush toys of my bloodline in the shops. I almost wanted to buy one, but I didn’t think my father would approve of them. Or rather, he wouldn’t approve of me having them. He would probably be pleased humans still worshipped us in some roundabout way.