Commission for Bugseid, thanks again!

	“How does this look?” Trent asked as he held a collared shirt up on his chest. 
	Isabel crossed one leg over the other as she looked her husband up and down. She tilted her head and frowned, “You look kinda gay in sky blue, Trent,” She cackled with an impish smile on her face as she tore the shirt from his hands and cast it aside, “Next!” She gestured with her chitinous hand. Trent sighed and picked up a forest green shirt.
	The couple were in a small changing room in a department store called ‘Mercy’s.’ While couples were allowed to go into changing rooms together to show off clothes to one another, each one had a big sign that said ‘PLEASE NO INTERCOURSE IN THE CHANGING ROOMS!’ Graffiti screamed ‘NO!’ at the sign or asked people to ‘at least clean up your own damn messes. -Janitor.’ Another laughed at them, calling that person a janny. Isabel adjusted her ill fitting shirt-- it was one of her boyfriend’s sure, but she practically lived in his shirts. The beelzebub’s small, tanned body sat with her chiton covered legs crossed on one of the two tiny benches inside the small booth. Isabelle’s bug-like abdomen and antennae twitched and her wings buzzed as she ran her fingers through her grey hair all the way down to her shoulders. Trent twitched as he always did when he heard her buzzing. It was maddening, but he was also madly in love with her; whichever feeling cancelled out the other, he wasn’t sure. 
	“I think green suits you,” Isabelle decided, looking her husband up and down, “You still look better in red.”
	“Really?” Trent frowned at the shirt and hung it up, “If you say so.”
	“At least you don’t look like a baby blue alp, you big gay baby!” The beelzebub laughed.
	“If I’m so gay, how come I went down on you like that last night, huh?” Trent retorted, “If you’re gonna call me a homo, I’m gonna stop putting out!” He threatened. 
	“No!” Isabel whined, “I need it! Okay, fine, you don’t look THAT gay in blue!”
	“You just look a lot less gay in red, green, grey, and black. And you look cuter when not wearing blue,” She admitted under her breath. 
	“Yeah, don’t let it get to your head, butt head,” She scoffed, “You done? We got a lot more to do.”
	Trent looked at the shirts and pants he had grabbed and made sure to put the blue shirts aside, “Yeah, I’m good. You didn’t find anything you like?”
	“Nah. I just wear your crap anyways,” Isabel chuckled, “I wish you would let me wear t-shirt dresses out in public.”
	“Come on. You can throw a skirt or legging on too,” Trent gave her a kiss on the cheek, “I’m the only one allowed to look at your underwear, remember?” He whispered in her ear.
	Isabel shuddered before laughing at him, “You’re such a perv!” Admittedly, her heart beat a little faster; her husband knew exactly how to push her buttons. She pushed Trent onto one of the benches, climbed onto his lap and started to make out with him. 
Trent kissed her back, shivering as he felt the beelzebub feel him up. Both panted and mumbled to one another, “Isabel, not here.”
	“Why not? It's filthy here, I like that.”
	The man could only sigh and grope his wife’s chest in return, “Yeah, but it's not MY filth.”
	“Ugh, you’re such a big baby,” She groaned before getting off of him-- but not before putting her face in his crotch to get a big whiff of his musk, “Aw yeah. That’s the stuff.”
	Trent tried to push her off, “Cut that out!”
	The beelzebub, despite being a lot smaller than her husband, easily overpowered him as she went in for a second huff. It gave her a lust filled rush. She was going to enjoy shoving her wet cooter into his face later, “Fine. But you’re getting yours later. Come on, you gotta go pay for this stuff.”
	With a few bags in hand, Isabel led her husband through the local mall. While malls had been on a steady decline in the past, when monster girls arrived they were once again looking for the experience of a marketplace with little stalls and carts. Malls, to them at least, were just the next evolution of it. Stores within the malls stayed along with areas being changed to allow more small scale vendors to peddle their wares without renting out an entire store. It breathed new life into an otherwise dead and silent shopping mall. The beelzebub stared through the window of a dress shop and scoffed, “Get a load of this. Who the hell would actually wear that?” She gestured with her thumb over her shoulder at a white gown.
	“Maybe a lady who wants a traditional wedding?” Trent hazarded a guess at her seemingly rhetorical question.
	“But it looks so dumb!”
	“I dunno. I’m sure some dudes are into that.”
	“Are you?”
	Trent shrugged, “I haven’t really thought about it. I’ve heard about guys weeping when seeing their bride on marriage day as she walks down the aisle in her wedding dress.”
	Isabel huffed, “What a bunch of weirdos. Just do it the old fashioned mamano way.”
	“My parents are still mad that we didn’t do a traditional wedding,” Trent moved past the frilly dress store and started looking around at the more trashy pop-culture stores. 
Isabel glanced at her husband, “I’m not a traditional girl.”
“I know. Hey, how about we step in here?” He gestured to a women’s underwear store, “You probably need some new ones.”
“I do not. The ones I have are perfectly fine,” Isabel huffed, “Maybe we should see a shrink, you’ve been acting like you need your head checked.” 
“I’m just saying, you need to swap your underwear out more. Lord knows how many days in a row you wear the same pair,” Trent waved a hand in front of his nose.
	“Not that long! Three or four tops you dumbass!” She hissed back.
Trent chuckled glanced across the mall at the other stores then his gaze transfixed on someone. The man whistled, “Look at that,” He whispered to his wife.
	Covered head to toe in a lacey dress, standing tall and elegantly, with every part of her body squeaky clean and glistening in the overhead fluorescents, was a centaur with a white body and fair, pale skin. Jutting from her forehead however was a long, pointy horn. She had three children surrounding her, each one also in pearly white dresses and long blonde hair. A man stood nearby, helping the centaur corral the three foals, “A family of unicorns,” Isabel gasped.
	“Don’t see that every day, now do you? I heard its good luck to see one, but how much luck do you get when you see four?” Trent joked.
	Isabel frowned as she looked up at her husband and saw him gawking at the dress wearing unicorn. She couldn’t help but wonder if he wished he had such a woman for a wife. A large woman with large breasts, whereas Isabel was quite small with almost substandard breasts by comparison. Sure, they had gotten bigger, but not by much. And the elegance of such a woman, not to mention her kindness made the beelzebub question herself. Hell, she didn’t even wear a bra most days! She was a bit dirty, mean, and lazy and was sure that unicorn was the opposite. ‘Guys want girls like that, don’t they?’ She silently asked herself as she looked down at her own body. Afterall, she was really just an overgrown housefly. Isabel couldn’t help but feel insecure thinking about how annoying Trent must have found her, not to mention gross and rude.
	“Huh?” The mention of her name roused the bug girl from her thoughts, “Didja say somethin’?”
	“I was just asking if you were alright. You’d been looking weird for a while and nearly walked into that jinko,” Trent chuckled, “We should go home soon. Game store and then home?”
	Isabel nodded slowly, “Uh, sure.”
	A few days later, Trent returned home to his apartment after a long day of work. Despite how tired and exhausted he was, he had a little smile on his face. It was date night, afterall. He pulled up to his parking spot, and made his way up to his home where his lovely wife was waiting. The man stepped through the front door, setting his work stuff down and stripping off his coat, “Isabel!” He called out.
	“Welcome home,” The beelzebub poked her head around the corner.
	Trent gave her a weird look, “Welcoming me home? That’s unusual.”
	Isabel stopped herself from saying something rude, “Just… trying something new,” She nervously stepped out into the open and showed herself to her husband. 
	Trent was stunned as he stared at her. For the first time he had ever seen, his wife wasn’t wearing one of his shirts. Her small body was covered by a dress, it was blue with flowers stitched across it. It had no sleeves, and it covered the legs with a pleated skirt, “You, uh,” He struggled to find the words. 
	“I what?”
	“You look… cute. Its a strange change, but I think it's nice,” He gave her a smile, making the beelzebub blush. 
	“Still unsure if you’re a dress guy?” Isabel did her best to crack a joke.
	Trent shrugged, “I dunno. But I wouldn’t mind seeing you try more on. Anyways, are you ready to go grab dinner?”
“It was my turn to pick, right?”
“Of course. You wanted to go to the same bar as always.”
“I was thinking we could try something new. Something a bit more… refined?” She guessed that she was using the word right, “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind going down to ‘Luigi’s Linguinis’ for dinner.”
“That new Italian place?” Again, Trent was stunned, “Well, alright. I won’t say no since it's your pick tonight,” Isabel gripped his hand and let him lead her out into the brisk cold of the night. Down the stairs and to his car where the two of them climbed in. Trent drove down the quiet streets toward downtown, “So, is this some kind of prank?”
Isabel clasped her hands nervously, “W-what do you mean? Why would you think that?”
	“You never dress like this. You never want to eat at places like this. You almost never hold my hand, especially in public,” He chuckled, “You’re up to something, huh, Isabel?”
	 She scowled, “Why would I go through this much effort just as a prank you dumb--” She stopped herself, “I’m just trying new things.”
	Trent nodded, “Alright, I’m sorry. I’m proud of you for trying new things. I think you even cleaned up the living room a bit.”
	“I-I did…” Isabel admitted, feeling a pang of pain in her heart, “Just threw away trash mostly. I don’t know how to wash dishes or run the washing machine.”
	“Maybe I’ll teach you, if you’re looking to keep learning new things. Hey, I see it up here,” Trent pointed to Luigi’s restaurant. 
	Isabel fidgeted nervously as her husband spoke to the hostess, “Just two, please. Trent,” He gave his name before the hostess could ask.
	“Are you fine sitting near the bar?” The sylph asked with a thick accent.
	“Right this way, sir,” The well dressed woman brought the couple to a pretty crowded area where snooty middle to upper class folks ate their meals. Isabel might have been the first beelzebub to ever feel disgust like she did in that moment. 
	Trent winced as he picked up a menu, “Wow…” He mumbled as he looked at the prices.
	“Something wrong?” The waitress asked, an ignis, who was dressed just as well as the sylph. Trent shook his head, “Can I start you both with some wine? I recommend the Alraune Vineyards wine from the old world that we have uncorked tonight.”
	“Yes. Two glasses of that,” Isabel agreed.
	The waitress left and Trent stared agape at his wife, “You hate wine.”
	“I just… haven’t found one I like,” She picked up the menu and started to browse the pasta list, “Uh, I think I’ll pick this,” She pointed to a random dish.
	“Sure… I’ll get that too, I guess,” Trent didn’t have any idea either after going through the menu that he could hardly understand. A lot of it seemed to be in Italian, leaving him to either guess their ingredients or make him look up what he was really ordering on his phone. He felt like that defeated the purpose of even having a menu. 
Isabel fidgeted again, doing her best to keep her wings in check, “So, uh, how was work?”
“Hm? Oh, work was fine,” The man shrugged, “Boring engineer work as always.”
	“That’s… nice,” Isabel gave him a smile and fidgeted in her seat. She hated how tight and restricting the dress she wore felt. ‘Say something nice, say something nice,’ She silently told herself, “I, uh, really appreciate you working.”
	Trent opened his mouth to speak but was cut off as two wine glasses were set on the table. The ignis poured both and glanced at them both, “Are you ready to order?”
	“Yes,” Isabel nodded quickly, “We both want… this,” She pointed at the italian words on the page.
	“Ah, a wonderful choice, madam. Your meal will be out quickly,” She took the menus and stepped away. 
	Isabel tapped her fingers slowly on the table, Trent glanced around, “I feel like you’re getting more than a few looks,” He frowned.
	“Good or bad?” She suddenly felt even worse, “Don’t say it. I know the answer…” Her wings buzzed idly for a moment, making everyone within earshot shudder. 
	“Hey, don’t worry about them,” Trent grabbed his wife’s hand and gripped it tight. The couple sat in silence, holding one another’s hand. The beelzebub picked up the glass of dark red liquid, making sure to keep her pinky out, and took a swig of it. She coughed and sputtered, absolutely loathing the taste. She swore she heard a few chuckles from the people around her. 
After what felt like a few hours to Isabel, the food was brought out. Her eyes widened as she saw the food being brought to her table. They looked like onion rings, battered and deep fried comfort food, exactly what she needed. It was a small plate of them along with two sauces, one red and the other white and a strange… salad? She wasn’t sure since it lacked any greens and was made of mostly tomatoes. Glancing across the table, she saw that Trent was staring at the food, just as confused as her. Isabel didn’t care, she was starving and started to dig in, even if the onion rings smelled weird, she needed some. After hastily dunking the ring in the strangely thick ranch, she took a big bite… and nearly retched. It wasn’t an union ring, it tasted vaguely fishy and was quite slimey. The white sauce also wasn’t ranch. She managed to swallow it with a shudder, “That’s uh, different,” She commented.
Trent had pretty much the same reaction as her as he tried to eat some, “Y-yeah.”
She moved onto the salad, picking up a small bite with her fork. Tomatoes and onions, it seemed. With much hesitation, she took a bite of this and forced herself to swallow. She felt sick to her stomach and had nothing to wash it down. What was she supposed to drink? The water in front of her? That was almost the most disgusting thing she had considered that night. Shaking, she turned to Trent who looked like he was just as miserable as he tried to drink some of the wine, “Trent… how is it?” 
“Isabel, why did you want to come here?” He murmured, pushing his plate away.
	“I don’t know anymore,” The beelzebub remarked, putting her head in her hands.
	“I saw how you looked at that unicorn and I got so self conscious,” She admitted quietly, “I just wanted to be more girly and proper for you. It’s why I put on this dress and why I wanted to come here. I keep thinking I’m going to lose you to some nice smelling girl who puts on fresh underwear every day. I’m just a big, gross housefly.”
	Trent stared at his beelzebub for a few moments before cracking a smile and chuckling at her, “Is that what this is really about? Isabel, I’m really sorry I made you think that way, but I love you for who you are. I was staring at that unicorn because I was imagining how weird and awkward it would be to ride your horse wife around.”
	He nodded, “Look. I’m okay with you trying new things, but only if you’re being honest with yourself. You look so uncomfortable here and in that dress. Even if you do look like a big ol’ cutiefly in it,” Isabel blushed as she stared down in her lap, “If you want to change, I’ll help you however I can, but you don’t need to change for me.”
	Tears rolled down the beelzebub’s face, ruining the makeup she had sloppily applied, “I-I love you. I don’t deserve someone like you.”
	“I love you too. And of course you do,” He gripped her hands from across the table again. Isabel held herself back from flying across the table at him, there would be time for that later.
	“Jeez, they let anyone in here now, hm?” Isabel heard the snickers from another table.
	“Fuck this place,” She grunted as she grabed her fork and stabbed a particularly large chunk of tomato. With expert marksmanship, she bent the fork back and used it like a tiny catapult to lob it at the head of the man who had sneered at her. The man yelped and dropped the glass out of his hand, shattering it and sending wine spilling in his lap. Isabel and Trent could hardly contain their laughter as the man glared daggers at them.
	“Madam, is something amiss?” The ignis appeared before them, looking a little cross.
	“Yeah. What the hell is this shit?” Isabel spoke loudly, picked up her plate and presented it to the server.
	“It's calamari. Fried squid and served with tomato and onion salad. Is there something wrong with it?”
	“Yeah, it tastes like ass,” She scoffed and put it down loudly.
	“Madam, you’re causing a scene.”
	“Oh, cool it hot-head,” She scowled.
	“P-pardon me!?” The ignis looked furious now.
	“Get this hot-head outta here!” Isabel hollered, a smug smile across her lips. Trent could hardly hold in his giggles, further emboldening the beelzebub.
	“Is something wrong, sister?” The sylph appeared to defuse the situation.
	“Oh, now the air-head is here. Great, is calamari supposed to taste like ass? The hot-head here didn’t really warn me it would.”
“I-I’ll have you know my husband is the chef here!” The sylph growled, “His food doesn't taste like--”
“Yeah you probably know what ass tastes like,” The beelzebub grinned, “You probably rim him, right?”
The sylph slammed her hand on the table, completely losing her composure, “You need to leave.”
“Sure, whatever you say, air-head,” Isabel shook her wings, filling the restaurant with a horrible, droning buzzing that stunned everyone but Trent. She grabbed her man by the hand and the two darted out-- but not before Isabel dumped both their glasses of wine on the two elementals.
The couple sped off into the night, laughing all the way as the elementals came after them. 

Despite the cold, biting air, Isabel and Trent sat side by side on the curb under the starry sky. They were just outside downtown where the people at Luigi’s probably wouldn’t find them, let alone be caught dead setting foot in this part of town. Isabel had an empty takeout box in one hand as she leaned against her man, staring hungrily at his half eaten burger. It was cheap and greasy, just how the beelzebub liked it. Trent wrapped an arm around her, “How are you feeling?”
	“Better. Glad I got all that anger out,” She sighed as she cuddled up to him.
	“Think you’re through with wearing dresses?”
	“What are you a dress guy now, weirdo!?” Isbel growled.
	“Maybe. Like I said, you’re a real cutiefly in that!” He teased.
	Isabel blushed and grabbed his food, “If you’re gonna call me that I’m eating your food!”
	“Whatever you say… cutiefly.”

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