Happy (belated) Appealshipping Day!
(The Whirl Cup is being updated soon - I just wanted to do something for some under-appreciated ships).
Hands (Penguinshipping)
Kenny leaned forward, and smiled a little too eagerly and too widely. His dark eyes were wide and nervous, and one of his hands tugged nervously at his collared green shirt.
Dawn smiled back at him genuinely. She tried to push her fringe out of her face, but forgot that her hands were full with Piplup and her favourite pink scarf – her dark hair fell back into her eyes instead.
Without warning, the boy reached forward and carefully swept the dark locks to the side and tucked them behind her ear neatly. Both coordinator and coordinator-trainer froze, as Kenny's hand lingered against the soft skin of Dawn's cheek, fingertips still cupping the shell of her ear.
The coordinator focused on praying that he hadn't felt her shiver, and on making sure she didn't shiver again. Or worse, blush. When had Kenny's hands ever been so large? When had they ever been so calloused? A distant part of her mind thought that she should have expected it since he had a trainer's licence, and since he was fifteen and was growing up. Like herself.
To distract herself, she said aloud: "W-what are you doing? I know my hair is annoying and my skin is soft but there's no need to keep holding me, unless you wanna do something else."
Somehow she had managed to avoid blushing, and her words were relatively confident, still. They were half-challenging, and her gaze was as steady as she made herself meet his eyes.
The Twinleaf boy wasn't as lucky as her. His cheeks were red as he hastily snatched his large, roughly calloused hand away. "N-nothing!" He said. "I was just helping you out, Dee Dee. Your h-hair was in your f-face."
(Dawn feels strangely disappointed at that response, although she decides that she isn't sure she wants to understand why).
Shoulders (ikarishipping)
Her hair is so black that it almost shines blue, as she used a pink (what else?) hair-tie to twist it into a high ponytail, Paul found his eyes tracking her small, delicate-looking hands as they trailed through the dark locks. They continued after those hands as she flicked lint off her black pullover.
With a gruff "here you go," the boy returned her the pink Pokénav she had asked him to hold.
Then it was Dawn's turn to find her eyes lingering on the trainer's large form as he removed his dark purple jacket, and tied it securely it around his waist. It revealed a dark tank-top, and Dawn found herself focusing on his very wide shoulders as the muscles flexed around the contours of the bones there when he shrugged off the cloth.
She felt a little braver than she had that day with Kenny, and she reached forward to let her fingers trail along the muscle. "We should go soon, Paul, if you're done."
His gaze was considering as it followed her small hand skimming over his arm and as she hooked a thumb into her trainer-belt. It drifted to a well-polished pokeball and her thin fingers brushed the red-top.
Paul swallowed a little, adam's apple bobbing. He nodded automatically.
Dawn smiled.
(She felt mysterious, and please).
Hands and shoulders (Appealshipping)
Zoey had won the Ribbon Cup in Hoenn (again), and Dawn could not begrudge her the victory. It was the red-haired coordinator's third win since they had first met, although Dawn had finally beat her when they met in the Johto finals two years ago.
They had met again today, and both rivals were at their best, Dawn elegant in a midnight-blue and pink gown and backed by Quilava, and Zoey brilliant in white-and-gold tunic and trousers with Leafeon at her side.
The tunic was sleeveless, and now that the contest is over, Dawn found herself appreciating Zoey's shoulders, which were leanly-muscled and defined. She kept catching herself watching as the muscles in those shoulders jumped and twitched, instead of looking her rival in the face as they discussed the competition.
When she made herself meet the other coordinator's brown eyes, Dawn realised that the girl was smirking a little. "My eyes are up here, you know."
Dawn flushed. Their hands were in each other's, as they had met from across the crowded celebration hall, and she noticed, again, that Zoey's hands were bigger than hers. The hold felt oddly secure and perfectly natural, as it had many years ago at the Sinnoh Grand Festival, and just as calloused as hers. She decided to summon a little of the courage she had felt earlier in battle.
"I know," she said, and was inordinately pleased that her voice was steady.
"Oh?" The smirk had grown.
"I was admiring your shoulders." She dared to say, tossing a smile at her rival. She firmly ignored the heat in her face. "Yours are the right shape for sleeveless shirts and tank-tops. I don't think mine would look half as good."
Dawn watched as a blush exploded onto her usually unfazed rival's cheeks, and felt Zoey's hold on her hand stiffen. She leaned forward, and the newly-crowned Top Coordinator's eyes widened, lips parting just a little.
"I think I might want to keep admiring them," she said, as a small hand slipped free to delicately drape itself over a shoulder.
It felt wonderfully, surprisingly solid.
The Penguinshipping story was inspired by what happened to me in real-life a couple of weeks ago. It was amazingly awkward because I didn't know the guy's name, but later found out that it was of all names, Kenny.
