50 Sentence Challenge—Girlpowershipping
One: comfort.
The young blunette came running to the older blonde in tears, scared by the daunting and melancholic sights of the Distortion World—yet somehow, a gentle touch from the older woman could easily mollify her.
Two: kiss.
Timidly, Cynthia leaned forward and pressed her lips firmly against her younger lover's, eliciting a moan as their bodies connected and a tingle of pleasure shot down her spine.
Three: soft.
Cynthia's coat was so damn soft; when Dawn would sit on her lap, she often found that she'd run her fingers along the velvety fabric and create swirly patterns.
Four: pain.
Dawn's eyes filled with tears as she fell and scraped her knee on one of the sharp rocks at the legendary Spear Pillar, but her discomfort was ephemeral, for Cynthia soon was by her side, lips grazing the injured area.
Five: potatoes.
"Hey, Cynthia!," the younger girl chirped, bright blue eyes filled with excitement, "I made potatoes! I know how much you love them, you silly!"
Six: rain.
Cynthia stood, translucent droplets falling from the sky and running down her pale skin, but she didn't mind; she'd wait forever for the little blunette that she so adored.
Seven: chocolate.
When they were both in the mood, chocolate went from being a simple junk food to a sticky sweet treat that each girl enjoyed licking off of one-another.
Eight: happiness.
Words could not express just how happy young Dawn was when she saw her older lover standing at her front door, flowers in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other.
Nine: telephone.
When Cynthia's phone rang, she immediately knew who it was and pressed it to her ear, a small smirk manifesting itself on her lips. "Hello, Dawn."
Ten: ears.
"You know, Cynthia, I would have never known that you had a second eye, let alone ears, because your hair is always in the way; pin it back sometime, will you?" Dawn said, letting out a light laugh.
Eleven: name.
Dawn had always thought that Cynthia was a fitting name for the blonde that she loved to pieces, but secretly, she thought that Cynthia should have been named Aphrodite or something for her timeless beauty.
Twelve: sensual.
Cynthia's mouth trailed down the younger girl's neck, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbling softly on her skin as she did so, causing Dawn to cry out in an overwhelming mix of pleasure and pain that nearly sent her over the edge.
Thirteen: death.
The thought of losing Cynthia terrified Dawn, and as a result, she vowed to spend as many special moments with the blonde as she could fit into their lifespan.
Fourteen: sex.
Cynthia never was rough with Dawn; when it had been the girl's first time, she had taken the role of the gentleman and carefully made love to her, making sure Dawn had an amazing climax and release.
Fifteen: touch.
Just one touch from Cynthia could send Dawn into a world of bliss—she didn't quite know why, but the Champion had a magical air to her that could captivate Dawn at any given moment.
Sixteen: weakness.
Although many viewed Cynthia as an invincible goddess of battling, Dawn saw her softer side; although it had taken a year or so to accept it, Cynthia had weaknesses just like any other human being—and she hated how everybody thought she was indestructible when she could shatter so easily, like a porcelain doll.
Seventeen: tears.
After months of being apart and at the sight of the young girl's overjoyed expression, Cynthia felt her eyes well with tears as she leapt forward to embrace her lover.
Eighteen: speed.
One thing that had made every trainer, including Dawn, frustrated in battle with Cynthia was her Garchomp's unsurpassable speed—Cynthia and Dawn still joked about it, even in recent days.
Nineteen: wind.
Dawn loved the way Cynthia's long blonde tresses danced in the wind, swirls of gold whooshing through the air as she ran, laughing.
Twenty: freedom.
When the two escaped together to Cynthia's summertime villa in Undella town, Dawn had never felt so much freedom; for once in their lives, paparazzi and cameramen weren't hunting them down for photos, dirt, or whatever gossip they could get their hands on.
Twenty-one: life.
Although life as a Champion wasn't exactly easy, Cynthia always had something to look forward to; the sweet thought of knowing that Dawn would be waiting at the front of the Pokemon League, waiting there with that big grin on her face, waiting to embrace her.
Twenty-two: jealousy.
As much as she didn't want to be, Dawn couldn't help but be jealous of her older lover—Cynthia was blonde, thin, gorgeous, and the toughest trainer in all of Sinnoh, making Dawn feel like a small and frivolous mouse in comparison.
Twenty-three: hands.
Cynthia's hands cupped the young teenager's face, and she smiled down at her lovingly, grey eyes twinkling with lust and excitement.
Twenty-four: taste.
One of Cynthia's favorite flavors was Dawn's tongue, and she found herself craving it more than she should—the two would be lip-locked for a good hour on some days.
Twenty-five: devotion.
No matter what happened, Dawn always knew that Cynthia was a devoted partner and would continue to stand by her side until her death.
Twenty-six: forever.
Cynthia was sprawled out on her king-sized bed, arms wrapped around Dawn and sheets tangled, covering the two of them; she wanted the moment to last forever.
Twenty-seven: blood.
Dawn had freaked out when she caught sight of the blonde with a bloody gash on her leg; Cynthia insisted that she was alright and had just gotten accidentally scratched by her Garchomp, but Dawn frantically ran over and nurtured the wound right away.
Twenty-eight: sickness.
Cynthia had caught a terrible case of the flu last winter, and the once lively blonde was bed-ridden, all the color flushed from her cheeks, yet her dull and lifeless eyes lit up at the sight of the younger blunette coming to pay her a visit.
Twenty-nine: melody.
When Cynthia showered, she would sing; and every time, Dawn would find herself crouched by the bathroom door, entranced by the mellifluous voice that rang throughout the bathroom, a lovely melody which she sometimes found herself humming under her breath.
Thirty: star.
Although Dawn didn't realize it, she was a star to Cynthia; a bright, shooting star that lit up the world and sparkled, showering joy and love.
Thirty-one: home.
Dawn never felt more at home when she would stay with Cynthia at her villa on the beach; just being with the woman made her feel like she actually belonged somewhere.
Thirty-two: confusion.
Cynthia had initially been confused when she had first seen the younger blunette burst through the doors to her Champion room and proceed to hug her and shower her with compliments.
Thirty-three: fear.
Dawn could not watch Shutter Island without clinging onto Cynthia in fear, burying her face in the older blonde's chest and plugging her ears with her fingers.
Thirty-four: lightning/thunder.
Booming thunder shook the small Twinleaf town house and menacing lightning bolts created frightening flashes of light, but Dawn felt no need to be scared, as long as she was with Cynthia.
Thirty-five: bonds.
Cynthia had promised Dawn, all those years back, that the two would forever have an unbreakable bond, whether it be friendship or something more—and now here she was, Dawn's girlfriend of a year, and their bond was now stronger than ever.
Thirty-six: market.
"Cynthia, come on! We can buy all sorts of treats at the supermarket!" the blunette said, giggling as she gently grasped the older woman's hand and tugged her towards the door.
Thirty-seven: technology.
"Cynthia! They changed Facebook AGAIN." Dawn groaned, turning her head from the computer screen to glance at the older blonde, a look of disappointment plastered on her face.
Thirty-eight: gift.
Cynthia was overjoyed when she awoke with Dawn lying on top of her, holding a bunch of presents in her hands—this was definitely the best birthday gift that she'd ever received!
Thirty-nine: smile.
Dawn's bright and cheery smile was one of the many things that Cynthia adored about her; every time the ebullient girl squeezed her eyes shut and gave her biggest grin, Cynthia's heart would flutter.
Forty: innocence.
Dawn was so innocent, and it made Cynthia smile; she looked at the world through her naïve eyes and never saw any of the hardships of life, bringing a happy-yet-sad feeling to the Sinnoh Champion when she dwelled on it.
Forty-one: completion.
"Cynthia...I...I just want you to know that you complete me..." Dawn sputtered, her cheeks red with embarrassment and her eyes staring into the ground, desperately trying to avoid the gaze of the blonde who sat before her.
Forty-two: clouds.
Both Dawn and Cynthia lay in the grass, a cool breeze tickling their necks and rustling their hair as they stared up into the cerulean skies, pointing and laughing as they looked at the different shapes and sizes of the clouds above them.
Forty-three: sky.
On some days, Dawn would persuade Cynthia to take her up on her Togekiss; flying over Sinnoh whilst holding on to the woman she loved was one of her favorite things to do.
Forty-four: heaven.
As Cynthia's lips grazed Dawn's, the blunette felt herself slip into a carefree world of pleasure; if there was such a thing as Heaven, this was definitely as close as she could get.
Forty-five: hell.
Although trekking through the mind-scarring cliffs of the Distortion World had been Hell for such a young girl, Dawn realized that she had been okay knowing that Cynthia was right there by her side.
Forty-six: sun.
Dawn would constantly remind Cynthia how much she was like the Sun—bright, shining, beautiful, and full of energy; Cynthia, in return, would just smile.
Forty-seven: moon.
Dawn always thought that it was delightful that Cynthia was named after the goddess of the moon; she had always found it very suitable for the blonde champion.
Forty-eight: waves.
Cynthia gave a laugh as she chased her younger lover into the crashing waves of Undella town, letting them engulf her and splash against her warm skin, hot from the summer sun.
Forty-nine: hair.
Dawn was simply amazed at how Cynthia managed to keep her hair so perfect; it fell below her waist, a soft gold that shined in the blaring sunlight and gracefully trailed behind her back in the breeze.
Fifty: supernova.
Every time the two reached their climaxes, Dawn was almost positive that the reaction that followed was more powerfully pleasing than a supernova shining brightly in the night sky.