#sloane johnson

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God Is A DJ is the story of two girls falling in love via the airwaves, coming to terms with their sexualities, and realizing that who you are can't be determined by other folks. This is Sloane's backstory.

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Lost Girls aesthetic OC: Sloane Johnson

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A girl can do what she wants to do, and that's what I'm gonna do!

Sloane Johnson, Lost Girls

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A playlist curated by Sloane, from Lost Girls. Tracks included are:

"Bad Reputation"--Joan Jett & The Blackhearts

"Only Happy When It Rains"--Garbage

"Shitlist"--L7

"Asking For It"--Hole

"She's Gonna Break Soon"--Less Than Jake

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100 Days of Writing, Day Seventeen

Today’s question is inspired by a tool in that book:

Think about an interview question for your main character/s and then write down what they don’t say. What secrets do they keep? What do they lie about?

I honestly wasn't sure what kind of question I should ask my character. I knew that I wanted to interview Sloane, because getting her to open up is a rare thing, but I didn't know what to ask. In the end, I decided to veer away from personal questions (because she is deeply private and I didn't want to kick a hornet's nest) and instead ask her to tell me a country she would love to visit, and why.

She thought about it for a second, then said "Romania. I kinda feel drawn to that country and I can't really explain why." Her eyes sparkled and her body language relaxed (a welcome change from her usual stiff, tense, closed off body language), and her voice was filled with passion as she explained that she'd love to go see the Hoia Baciu Forest.

@the-wip-project

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Lil’ character study: Sloane

Sloane had drank too much. Again. Her head was spinning faster than the teacups ride at Disneyworld, and she would surely have one hell of a brutal hangover come morning, but she didn’t care. She felt more alive, more vibrant than ever, and for that, she would gladly pay the price.

Some people drink to escape reality, others to forget pain. But Sloane was different: she drank to remember. She drank to reflect.

She drank to feel alive.

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a confession (Sunday Romance-Week 1)

I haven’t written in a very long time, but I saw that @sunday-romance was hosting a writing prompt challenge, and so I decided to try my hand at writing romance. I don’t usually write it, so it’s a strong possibility that this will suck. 

For clarification, this is original fiction, set in the Lost Girls world, and it revolves around the story’s main couple, Sloane and Erica. This is unedited and rushed; I literally wrote it 10 minutes ago. I’m not sure how I feel about it, but here goes. The prompt is “I love you, you idiot.”

a confession.

The two of them had been clumsily dancing around the issue all day long, with neither of them ready to take the first step to confess. Erica was far too shy and nervous to speak up first, and as for Sloane, well, Sloane was simply stubborn. Also, she was terrified of what Erica’s reaction would be, even if Sloane would never admit that out loud. The truth was that she cared deeply for Erica at this point, and a rejection would pierce her heart.

Yeah, Sloane had a heart. Maybe she didn’t wear it on her sleeve like Erica did, and maybe Sloane adopted a grouchy disposition, but she wasn’t completely heartless. She wasn’t a frigid ice queen like so many people assumed. But keeping her emotions in check and refraining from expressing them outwardly had served her well for the majority of her life.

Nobody enjoys being hurt, let down, betrayed, or mistreated, and Sloane was no exception. Furthermore, Sloane didn’t like not being in control. She did not want outside forces influencing her mind or actions in any way, shape, or form. Feeling helpless and small was something Sloane had no time for. She had been there, done that, and vowed that it would never happen again.

Erica stepped forward slowly, her long fingers gently wrapping around Sloane’s freckled wrist. Sloane’s eyes were squeezed shut so tightly that she could see galaxies in her mind, the stars spinning and swirling and blinking. Her mouth felt as though she had swallowed a bag of cotton balls, and she licked her lips in an attempt to relieve the feeling.

“Sloane.” Erica’s voice was soft, yet firm. “Could you please look at me?”

And so of course Sloane opened her eyes, because she couldn’t deny Erica this simple request, even if Sloane did feel like crawling into her own skin and sewing it shut. Because sooner or later, the training wheels had to come off of the bicycle, and what was she so scared of, anyway? The possibility that another human being had feelings for her, the possibility that this person actually wanted to be around Sloane?

To be fair, Sloane’s last relationship had been an unmitigated disaster, which had caused Sloane to denounce any kind of relationship for an undetermined amount of time. But she couldn’t bring those fears into her relationship with Erica, whether they entered into a platonic or a romantic relationship. That simply wasn’t fair to Erica, and if Sloane was being honest, she had enjoyed the past four months immensely. Being in Erica’s company was something Sloane looked forward to every day, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed when they couldn’t see each other.

Sloane had no idea what was happening, but one thing she was sure of was that regardless of her anxieties and fears, Erica’s feelings for her were genuine. The girls had grown closer and closer over the last little while, so much so that Sloane was even considering opening up to Erica about her past—something she hadn’t done for a long, long time.

“Sloane, I….” Now Erica was the shy one, her eyes dropping to the toes of her shoes, her cheeks reddening more and more with each passing second. “I think that we need to talk.” Erica mustered up the courage to look up at Sloane, her beautiful, warm hazel eyes meeting Sloane’s stormy green ones. “There’s something I want to tell you.”

Sloane’s heartbeat quickened.

“Oh?”

“I’d really love to go to the park.” Erica laced her fingers through Sloane’s and squeezed slightly. “Can we? We can talk about it there.”

Her lips were still dry and her tongue felt thick and heavy like cement, so Sloane couldn’t speak, but she did manage to nod in agreement.

And as the two of them walked hand-in-hand to the park nearby, Sloane realized, for the first time, that she was ready to accept the uncertainty of the situation and allow the cards to fall wherever they chose.

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Happy Tender Tueaday! If your characters were faced with dopplegangers of their love interests, how would they know who was the imposter? What would give them away?

Thanks for the question, @raevenlywrites! Sloane’s like a bloodhound--she’d sniff the doppleganger out. That’s how she would know the difference between the real Erica and the imposter. (no, seriously, Sloane would literally be able to tell by scent. Don’t ask me how she would know, but she insists she would!)