#belanna

(Reblog for larger sample size!)

Let's do a dragon share!! Reblog with fat dragon couples c: doesn't have to be women though that's certainly encouraged!

Prim and Proper will probably always be one of my fave couples c: perhaps i should rotate them so they face each other fddfsg

Vroman, Molassa, and Malaya are a really fun throuple too haha..technically they're still not officially dating in lore but they're definitely being seen cuddling together a lot these days...

Also i wanted unveil Malaya's new outfit c:

i'll put a few more under a cut!

Tom Paris x Reader

2366 words

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Tom, per se. It was more that, from the time you had come aboard Voyager, the two of you just could not manage to get along. And, as the Powers That Be know, you’ve tried. You can’t quite hack it, though. From the moment you’d come on the ship, requesting asylum, he’d been nothing but borderline unkind to you, though he generally passed it off as a joke whenever anyone called him out.

He was borderline ornery most of the time, rolling his eyes when you spoke. You’d been on the bridge a few times to help with navigation, being essentially the only person on the ship who had any experience this side of the Nekrit Expanse, not to mention the wall of Borg they’d had to cross, and many of the things you said earned a sassy comment, which only proved to make you irate.

And, of course, almost everyone else was ever so kind, if not at least neutral. You and Harry were friendly, you would say, he would often check in on you when you crossed paths in the mess, offering you a seat at his table on occasion, an invite you never took, due to the snotty comments from the ever-irritating blonde.

Harry had told you, once, that you and Tom must have some kind of misunderstanding, but you weren’t sure what that would be. You could swear when you caught him staring, he was calculating how next to push your buttons. When he’d heard you’d decided to take up a role as Counselor, because you could tell this ship desperately needed one, you’d seen the way he’d frowned, and heard him telling B’Elanna you couldn’t possibly be much help if you didn’t really understand what anyone here was going through. You’d waved off Harry’s concern as B’Elanna had admonished the pale man, rolling your eyes as you left the mess.

Moments like this had led you here- sitting in the holodeck with Tom, B’Elanna, and Harry, along with many others, as a sort of forced birthday celebration. Harry, and, supposedly Paris, had gone out of their way to replicate one of your old hangout spots back home- a dingy sort of bar that you were sure no one here liked quite as much as they liked Sandrine’s, guessing by the looks on their faces. But Harry and Neelix were determined to keep on happy faces, Neelix even going so far as to try and recreate some of your home planet’s food. You thanked him, even though they were woefully overseasoned, and tried to decide if you could slip away unnoticed at your own celebration, though that train of thought was quickly interrupted by Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay coming to wish you a happy birthday, so you plastered a smile on your face as you tried to pretend you weren’t miserable.

Tom had been making jokes about you “being old” all night, and the more you drank, the more you found it ground on your ears. He could never just be nice to you, even on celebratory days, and you knew he knew very well you could hear him across the room. Not that he was loud, per se, but your species was well-known for having remarkably exceptional hearing, and your hatred for his voice meant you were able to pick him out quite well in crowds.

You broke when he made his way over to you, chatting with Ayala and Nozawa, the men chuckling about something or other he had said as crewman Anderson handed Nozawa a drink- you assume they must have come together. An interesting pair, but you didn’t intend to question them about it.

Tom clapped his hand on your shoulder, and it took everything you had not to pull away from him. “And here she is! The old lady of the hour!”

To your face. You absolutely could not believe he had the audacity to say it to your face.

You made to excuse yourself, upset that he could, supposedly, be so nice to everyone else, but could not even give you peace on a day that was supposedly “your day.”

As you made your way to the holodeck’s exit, you heard him call for you before you felt his hand on your shoulder, and you turned, and in one swift motion, tossed the contents of your glass into his face.

You heard multiple gasps, and watched Tom try to wipe his face off before you handed off your empty glass to an apprehensive Neelix, stalking towards your quarters with purpose.

You couldn’t even fathom that once upon a time, you had been attracted to him. It was shameful that part of you still was.

You often tried to rationalize it to yourself. He was, technically and objectively speaking, very attractive for a hu-mon. When you first met him, you were entranced with his blue eyes- nothing special, technically, as people on your planet had infinite eye colors, but something about his had caught your attention from the jump. And his stupid, pretty blonde hair… and his stupid, punchable pretty face.

You shook your head, stepping into your quarters and moving to change quickly. It was not as if you’d thought things between you and Thomas would go well today, but you were hoping for amicable. You were not so bold as to think he was attracted to you. You assumed if he was, he would be much nicer to you. Surely, something about you repulsed him. Otherwise, why would he be so kind to so many others, but show you nothing but unkind words?

The sound of your door pinging made you jump, and you called for whoever it was to come in, bracing for a lecture. To your shock, it’s only crewman Ktari from Engineering, and she’s giving you a look of sympathy as she steps in.

She asks if you’re okay, and something in you breaks. The two of you have spoken before, on multiple occasions, and she has been nothing short of kind each time, and you blame your weakness on that. You sit her down and get her a drink as you pour your heart out, and you find her to be very patient in the way she listens to you, and she uses your replicator to give you something called ice cream, claiming it’s common for women to gorge themselves on it when they’re upset. You’re surprised you find it soothing.

You are even more surprised when she begins to bash Tom with you, saying things about him being cute but having no social awareness, or things about him coasting by on his looks. It made you laugh, and it was late by the time she left, encouraging you to forget about him if he couldn’t bear to be even cordial.

You tried. Truly, you did. You spent a lot of time studying with the Doctor, still finding other time to go on dates. Or should you say one date. One date that very quickly went wrong.

You were in the mess, having dinner with crewman Fitzpatrick, a cute, former Maquis officer, and he’d been chatting away with you and complimenting you all night. He liked to joke, and you were having a lot of fun, spinning jokes and eating Neelix’s overseasoned food. You could just barely hear Tom complaining about something, but you did your best to tune him out. You deserved to have a nice night, and crewman Ktari spent hours encouraging you to have fun despite the sour night a week prior.

You must’ve tuned Paris out a little too well, because suddenly he was pulling a chair up and loudly asking if the pair of you were having a nice night.

You couldn’t help but frown, openly rolling your eyes at him. “We WERE having a nice night.”

His laugh made you cringe, and he looked at you like you’d said something funny. “You look nice.” 

Somehow that felt insincere.

“Not for your benefit. Can I help you?”

“I’m just chatting with a couple of my favorite people, what’s the harm?” “Favorite people?” You scoff, shaking your head at him. “That’s rich.”

“What, you don’t think I mean it?” He leans towards you, raising his brows.

“Absolutely not, how can I believe that?”

“I believe it. Favorite person on the ship.”

You scoff again, leaning towards him a bit. “Stop lying, Paris. It makes you uglier.”

He laughs, loud, rolling his eyes. “You don’t honestly think that.”

“Really, Paris, I would-” you look across the table, but Fitzpatrick is gone. In fact, you don’t see him anywhere in the mess, and you curse under your breath, frustrated. “You scared off my date.”

“Like it was hard. Fitzpatrick is so flighty at the best of times.”

“Don’t be a dick, Paris.” You move to stand, frustrated at the loss of your distraction.

“Oh, who taught you that phrase?” You can feel him move to follow you.

“Leave me alone.”

“Oh, come on, I did you a favor!” Another scoff from you. “Everyone knows Fitzpatrick is boring. Compliments are only fun for an hour, and that’s his only trick!”

“Oh, as if spending my dinner with you is so much better? Insults?”

“Insults?!” He sounds shocked as he follows you through the halls, and you try really hard to block out the people turning and whispering about the pair of you.

“Yes, insults, Paris.” You stop at your door, turning to him and frowning. “Goodnight.” “Hold on, shortstop.” One of his many nicknames to make fun of your height. He grabs your arm to stop you from going inside.

“Let go of me,” you try, skin warm from his touch.

“No, hold on and talk to me for a minute here. You think I’ve been insulting you?”

“Think? You have!” You tear your arm from his and give him a little shove back. He must have been surprised by it, because he stumbles back a little, and you escape into your quarters, sitting down on your couch with a sigh. You can hear him loitering outside your door for a moment, but he leaves, and you spend the rest of your night using the remainder of your rations for the week on drinks and ice cream.

Another week goes by, full of studying and, thanks to Tom’s interruption at dinner, no dates, as Fitzpatrick surely doesn’t want to see you again, and the men of the crew have decided Tom has some kind of claim on you, which is more than a little irritating. Ktari is as encouraging as she can be, trying to be the most supportive person, but it really does nothing to quell your irritation. 

Harry, your dearest friend, has a much different approach. “How about you and I get drinks tonight? We can boot up a fancy program, dress up nice, and drink wines that used to be expensive.”

“Harry, I dunno…”

“No, come on, it’ll be fun. You, me, holodeck two, 1900. Don’t be late,” he insists, and he takes off before you can even protest a little.

So, you resign yourself to your friend-date, dressing up nice as instructed. You enter holodeck two, promptly at 1905, and you’re a little shocked by how nice the program looks. You’re almost worried you’re going to have to break it to Harry that your friendship is strictly platonic, but then Tom is at your elbow, taking it and leading you towards a table.

“I thought Harry wouldn’t get you to come,” he almost looks a little nervous.

“I thought Harry was going to be here,” you argue as he sits you down.

“Uh, no. This is a date. I’d have asked you myself, but you’ve been avoiding me like a plague.” He sits across from you as a waiter comes by with two glasses and a chilled bottle of wine. “Drink?” “A date?” You’re skeptical, looking around for someone waiting in the wings to embarrass you.

“Yes, a date.” He pours you each a drink, sliding you a glass and taking a sip of his own. “I can’t want to take you on a date?”

“Based off my experiences, no.”

“You’ve got it all wrong,” he argues, sighing. “I’m not trying to be an ass.”

“Well you’re doing a shit job of being nice.”

“I’m just making jokes! It’s humor!”

“Being mean to me is humorous?”

“Yes! Well, no,” he corrects as you move to stand, and he moves to stand with you and grab your arm. “Wait, come on, just give me a second here.”

“You admitted you find making fun of me humorous!”

“It’s not like whatever you’re thinking, I’m not trying to make fun of you or be mean!”

“Mouse? Shrimp? Butterfingers? Dummy?”

“Those aren’t meant to be mean, its- okay, hold on,” he tries again as you try to pull away. “It’s part of human culture to give people nicknames that might come off mean, but I don’t mean them that way.” He tugs you closer, shaking his head. “I like you hanging around, you know. I like… you. God, that sounds lame.” 

You can’t help but just stare at him, taken off guard. “What?”

He tugs you closer, leaning down to kiss you softly as the band begins playing. Despite his grip on your arm, you definitely feel like you can pull away, but you don’t. Instead, you pull closer, and you can feel him relax as you return the kiss.

When you do pull away, he’s grinning, and he releases your arm. “Care to finish out the date with me? Big bottle of wine for a man to drink all alone.”

You chuckle at him, but sit back down. The pair of you talk for hours, or at least it feels that way, and he walks you home afterwards, kissing your cheek at the door.

Star Trek Voyager | S04xE20 - Vis à Vis