"In the glossy chaos of the early 2000s fashion scene, a girl learns that beauty opens doors… and locks them behind you."

That’s next.

I didn’t expect to feel this kind of spark again. But here we are. This story’s been in the corner too long, and the light finally hit it. It’s personal — more than I care to admit. And I’m ready to see what happens when I stop looking away.

I am interested.

And... I am back as promised. It was a longer vacation than expected, but I really needed it. Chapter 8 just went live, can't wait for you guys to read it!

This feels shameless, but gratitude wins.

The Not-So-Secret Diaries of an American Girl in Sofia wouldn’t have half the teeth without you feeding it — reviews, stars, private messages that made me spit coffee. And I can't thank you enough!

The next chapter is on the table, because you’ve convinced me it has to be.

First, a small vacation. Then I’m back, and you’ll get your chaos. Promise.

Laura

Quote by Stupalm

I'm trying to come up with a solid idea. I got nothing so far.

I have an idea already. No sex in it unfortunately.

Quote by Stupalm

You will CRUSH this, I have no doubt!

No, I won't. I am bad at contests. You, on the other hand, are a strong favorite.

I most certainly will! Thank you for sharing!

What's this obsession competition?

Quote by SureWhyNot

trying to find a proofreader to look over what i wrote since i never think its good enough. i want to add more to it, but i dont know if i

Quote by SureWhyNot

trying to find a proofreader to look over what i wrote since i never think its good enough. i want to add more to it, but i dont know if i should.

If you’re doubting it, adding more probably won’t fix it. Try taking a step back instead. Half the time, less isn’t just more — it’s sharper, bolder, and harder to hide behind. Trust your instincts. They’re usually louder than your edits.

I know someone with a spreadsheet — filters, tabs, the whole thing. Iconic. I didn’t think of that in ’97, when I was busy believing every hookup was either a rebellion or a love story.

I have tried to do the math. Which led to what can only be described as advanced sexual calculus — complete with estimations, rounding errors, and a deep dive into the “was-that-technically-sex?” category.

Final number? North of 120. Which feels... dramatic probably. Until you divide it by 28 years. Then it just looks like I was consistently bad at saying no.

I like stories where something actually happens. Not just holes getting filled and collars clicking into place — give me characters I can believe in. Make me root for someone, then slap me for it. I want tension, contradiction, stakes. I want the moment where someone says “I’m fine” but their hands are shaking.

The sex is great. But if I don’t care who’s fucking who and why, then I’m just skimming for the next scene.

Conflict turns me on. Denial. Power shifts. Emotional risk. If everyone’s into it and no one gets hurt? Yawn.

Love her microfiction already!