A/N: My files are an absolute mess and we do more writing events in discord than I can remember. Chances are, some of these are the wrong fandom.

10 Words sentences:

Laugh

Sometimes, he can still hear the ghost of her laugher.

First

For him it's the first time, for her, the last.

Flower

Her heart blooms inside like a flower, thorns and all.

Wish

He becomes the main lead in all her wishful thinking.

Box

He's taken, so she packs her feelings in a box.

Notes

Swarmed in endless files and notes, he searches for her.

Sweet

Maybe it's because he's looking miserable or because revenge's sweet.

Love

Love's a bet and she's out of chips to gamble.

Lace

She walks down the aisle in a blur of lace.

Doorway

"You comin' in or plan to sleep on the doorway?"

Share

They've seen the same horrors and shared the same demons.

Present

Neither her past nor her future, he's always the in-between.

Big

He seriously needs to stop before her heart burst out.

Crayons

She lets the neon green crayon glide over the canvas, feeling the softness of the white paper under her small hand.

Helpless

She swears she's trying… but God, does he make it hard.

He calls her name and heart does a little somersault, and she's reduced to a helpless mess of flushing cheeks, quivering under the warm touch of his fingers.

50 Words

On

He doesn't know what to make of the faint voice muffled by the radio's ongoing song, but he hears enough to know that it's her, and that prompts him to get closer. With stealthy steps and a pounding heart, he hides in the adjacent room, mesmerized by her love song.

Mistake

"This is a mistake—" She says, trying to catch her breath as his hands wander up to the most scandalous places. His hot breath makes the skin of her neck stand up, begging for touch as her resolution crumbles. "—S-Stop."

The corner of his lips curl up deviously,

"Make me."

Spy

He doesn't mean to spyon her— really! But she's really really good at this, and there's no way in hell she'll ever let him stay in the same room while she's practicing. In his defense, listening to her sing feels therapeutic.

(Or maybe, he's just SLIGHTLY falling in love)

100 words

Memento

She haunts him in the most frustrating ways, even when she's not there. He's tired of running into her neverending collection of forgotten hair clips under the cushions, most of them attached to a single strand of her signature strawberry blonde hair. Mornings starts with the bittersweet reminder that she had a hand in picking out every single coffee mug he's ever owned since he moved to this city, and this city— this city breathes her name in the silence of the night, echoed by the ruffling of his bedsheets begging for her to come back to him. She's everywhere.

Best

There's a thousand and counting ways he could tell her she's the best thing that's ever happened to him, but he never does. Because he's an idiot, yes, and she doesn't help either:the girl seems to have a personal vendetta against him— from her infuriating tendency to question all he ever says to finding ulterior motives to his every action, he finds it excruciatingly difficult to get close to her the way he'd like to. But he's resolved to win her over, even when that means a lifetime of collecting whatever snippets of trust she's willing to spare him.

Midnight

She hears him way before he arrives at her door at half past midnight, practically screaming her name at the top of his lungs as he staggers his way through the halls of her apartment complex, her reputation be damned. She dashes out of her apartment in a futile attempt to save what remains of her mangled honor, cheeks blazing hot in embarrassment as she drags the drunken detective out of sight from her peering neighbours, her nails so embedded into his arm that he has the audacity to protest.

"Have you lost your goddamn mind!?" She snaps at him.

Miscellaneous

Autumn / Leaves / Blanket / Cuddle /Peaceful / Storm

Autumn finds them cuddling in a lovers couch, the weight of a shared blanket what anchors them to an endless moment. It's warm and fuzzy and all things sweet, just him and her and the sweet whisper of maple leaves brushing against a window pane.

He finds a lifetime in just a moment, and it's snippets of peaceful times like these what makes every storm worth fighting through, if at the end of every rainbow he'll find her.

Color

She paints his world with strokes of bold scarlet, and he never knew before that red could be this alive. To him, red had always been a color he dreaded —he's seen it spill, seen it clot, seen it end.

But every brush of her fingers daubs him in endless hues of crimson, and he's marveled at the way it simultaneously kills him while bringing him to life. All his senses are filled with red, from the sweet cherry scent of her light auburn hair, to the taste of glory in her strawberry chapstick. She charts a map of cherise dead ends with her nails on his skin, and burns him like fire as his name comes out in a whisper.

One sentence

Phone

He doesn't mean to pry (really, no!), but she leaves her phone unlocked and the file name just catches his attention —just a white heart emoji and endless gigas of pictures, pictures of him and her and all the precious moments she made sure time won't fade away.

Deafening

The world is silent save for the deafening sound of her own heartbeat and the tears that won't come out, just her hands on his face and her lips on his skin breathing: wake up, wake up, wake up…

Glass

Her palm presses against the glass, and he mirrors her motion from the other side of the window, standing on his tiptoes and running along as far as the platform goes.

Catch

She catches him staring at her and quite shamelessly smirks back, as if daring him to say something, and their game of cat and mouse goes on for a torturous amount of time until he decides that, well, challenge's accepted.

Summer

He makes summer a little less unbearable by just being by her side, her knight in shabby armour coming to her rescue with a bottle of cold pocari sweat and some smartass remark. She takes the bottle and all the playful banter in her stride, thankful of the boy with the sunshine smile that blushes pink at the sight of her in sundresses.

Bridge

The bridge almost crumbles at the weight of them both, and she clutches tightly to the worn out rope that barely holds it together. "I'll cross first," She says, "You can follow next."

"And watch you die?" He snorts sarcastically, "Not likely."

Charm

She's everything he doesn't want —a bit too proud too smug too cynical, yet ironically somehow, she manages to charm her way into the deepest corner of his heart, until he doesn't remember what love looked like before her.

Spoil

He spoils her with home-made meals and fresh harvested food, abusing of the electric heater in early October. She puts up with his most endearing antics until it starts getting out of control, and soon she's yelling at him to put her down as he tries to princess-carry her down the stairs of her own house with a: "Jeez, Kudo. I can walk on my own- I'm pregnant, not disable."

Earth

In a world where chance and fate have become ancient lore, he thinks it's ludicrous to feel how he's feeling. But something deep down tells him, as his fingers brush lightly against hers and she stares back at him with the same look of amazed confusion, that they were always meant to find each other, they were meant to find each other's orbit even when they found themselves forty million light years away from earth.

Bless

"You're deluding yourself if you think I'm going to give you my blessings on this." He says, irate. The grip on her wrist is firm, eyes filled with determination. "Don't expect me to partake in any of your foolish plans when you know better than anyone that the outcome is certain death."

Tumble

It's more morning than night when he arrives at her doorstep, tumbling on his feet and reeking of vodka, slamming the shit out of her door and calling every name he knows her for.

Student

He sees her everywhere: in the hallways, the cafeteria, six people ahead the train's long queue and four rows below the lecture hall; and every time, she vanishes before he can get to her. The mystery girl is everywhere to be seen but nowhere to be found, until he comes across her outside the student's dorms, looking quite lost now he finally finds her.

5+ sentences

One：

As these things go, being proposed to in a vibrating massage chair seemed somewhat unexpected… yet there was no possible mistake, nor could this be a product of her over-exhausted mind: Kudo Shinichi was, indeed, on bended knee and holding out a velvet box with the shiniest diamond ring she'd ever seen in her life.

"What!?" The scientist blurts, her voice unintentionally high-pitched when the machine hits a particularly sore spot on her right shoulder.

"M-Marry me!" Shinichi splutters back, a bit alarmed by her reaction.

Shiho can't decide whether to be touched or mad about the situation. Seriously, the man had the annoying tendency of choosing the worst timing possible for these kind of things. Not that these kind of things happened often (if at all!) but that's the point, dammit! And she had hoped —yes, alright. She had hoped that he'd popped the question in a more graceful manner, one that she could look back on with fondness and not second-hand embarrassment.

So she was doing this for them, really.

"No."

Two:

She was going to put an end to this game of cat and mouse, even at the expense of her own dignity. Enough was enough.

"You know, if you're trying to be sneaky you're doing a very lousy job here."

A light hearted giggle escapes Masumi's lips as she comes out from behind the bookshelf she'd been hiding, no sign of remorse or embarrassment on her features. "Was I that obvious?"

"Extremely." Shiho says curtly.

The brunette smirks, lips curled and head slightly tilted to the side. It makes Shiho wonder if smugness is an occupational hazard of being a detective.

"Then why didn't you call me out earlier?"

Why, indeed?

The scientist takes a deep breath. "You don't get to ask the questions."

"My bad." Masumi laughs all too charmingly, and Shiho has run a mental list of all the reasons why she should be mad and not smitten.

"What do you want?" Her tone is cold, spiteful, even.

"Well, I thought that was obvious."

"Listen, I don't have time for—"

"You." Masumi interrupts, a faint shade of pink seeping through her cheeks. "I want you."

Three:

"We could have been great together."

"You still can be."

"You think so?"

She takes a second too long to reply, and the boy wonders. "Yes."

"Would you be with someone you can't trust? Someone you don't know anymore?"

"If it was you, yes." The strawberry blonde says, placing the red and white pill on his palm as she smiles reassuringly, eyes sad and voice soft. "I'd find a way back to you."