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"Well, what do you like doing, Goldylocks? Apart from drinking tea, playing with plant pots and doing boring old man stuff?"

Bjorn now slumping down next to Robert on the couch with a big grin plastered over his face. Rekker had gone to Oregon with Erik so now the crazy blond was hanging around with Robert. The older man being adored by the Swede of course, but Bjorn's behaviour was best dealt with by the youngest of Sterling brothers. What about trashy grandpa? Was he fucking that slut Tordis?

"Are you more fun than old grandpa Sterling? Is he fucking his slut right now?"

The blond giggling and moving to pick up a glass of booze from the table, downing most of it.

Hey, bitches, I'm not here. You've reached the Lightning King. I'm on stage rocking out, getting high and fucked or partying. Leave a message if you want, cuties.

( You're about to view content that the journal owner has marked as possibly inappropriate for anyone under the age of 18. )

Name: Bjorn "Stormbringer" Larsson
Age: 25
Eyes: Hazel
Hair: Platinum blond
Height: 6"
Weight: 170lbs
Race: Human
Ethnicity: Swedish
Gender: Feminine male
Sexuality: Gay (Prefers masculine men)

Profession:
Lead singer for the Swedish glam metal band "Blixt." It translates to "Lightning" in English.

Distinguishing marks:

He has a lighting bolt tattoo on his right shoulder and on his left is a pink rose with thorns wrapped around a microphone. On his lower back he has marks of where a knife slashed across his skin during an attack by thugs. He also has a burn mark on his neck below his right ear where someone attacked him with a lighter.

Pets:

He has a Scarlet Macaw called Fjädrar which translates to Feathers in English. He lives at home since he's on tour a lot with the band.

Abilities/talents:

Bjorn is a talented vocalist and can sing in quite a high range of notes. He is also good at acrobatics and gymnastics being active on and off the stage. He can play the electric guitar and keyboard. Bjorn is a keen make-up artist and nail painter as well as hair designer. It's more of a hobby for him.

Personality:

On first viewing of Bjorn most would assume that the Swede was a bitchy, tarty whore of a man who used his fame to get what he wanted. He can come across as a bitch at times but this is more of a front for the man underneath all of the make-up is a kind-hearted soul who is fiercely protective over those he loves. He can be vain and emotionally unstable, mostly because he is quite immature compared to his brother. Bjorn often gets wild on drugs and booze, mixing all kinds of things making him unpredictable and often amplifying his insecurities around others.

Background:
(CW: Mention of rape and physical assault)

Bjorn was born in Stockholm the younger brother of Hans Larsson, who is a guitarist. He found himself interested in music and singing at a very young age. Around five he already knew he wanted to be a rock star, wanting to get up on stage and be famous. He often dressed up in girl's clothing, wanting to be more feminine than his boyish friends at school and this caused issues around bullying. Bjorn's parents just assumed it was a phase he would grow out of but this was not to be the case. Around when he was sixteen, Bjorn left school and joined music school to train to become a vocalist. He was now heavily into the glam metal scene which was just starting in and around Stockholm. Bjorn got in with some wild friends and began doing drugs and participating and underage drinking sessions that went on for days on end. He ended up being arrested and this angered his parents but they just assumed it was because Bjorn was becoming a man and wanting to stand on his own two feet. Teenage things.

At eighteen Bjorn was well into his music career as a vocalist having been snapped up by a few possible bands but nothing came of it. He wanted to start his own band and thought of the name "Blixt" which translates into Lightning in English. Once night on a night out in the city Bjorn and his friends were attacked by a group of thugs. Punks. Those who disliked glam metal and feminine men. Bjorn dressed in his feminine clothing was instantly picked on first, dragged out into a nearby alley and raped. His friends ran because they couldn't fight off three massive thugs well over six foot and packed with muscle.

Bjorn was traumatised and had also been attacked by a knife as he tried to fight off his attackers. Left broken on the street corner by the thugs he eventually got home but refused to tell his parents or his brother because he was just too ashamed. Hans, eventually found out and went after the thugs that attacked his brother but was too late. They had long gone into the night. Bjorn eventually got over the rape attack but the mental scars were still there but he had one thing now.

A band.

Blixt was now on it's way to becoming one of Sweden's most famous glam metal bands because people had joined due to the singer's hard work. Hans had helped get his brother noticed in amongst the music scene and now the band had a lead guitarist, bassist and drummer. They were all set.

Special People:

Hans Larsson older brother

swedish_rocker

Rekker Sterling

rage_rekker

Writing Prompt;
enemies to lovers

Bjorn was giggling to himself in the bedroom sprawled out on the bed painting his nails as he often did when wanting to change his nail colour. Today was going to be bright neon pink. The giggling now happening because he could hear Rekker in the bathroom cursing loudly. Glitter. It had to be the glitter. Now, he heard the ginger stomping over towards the bedroom probably about to burst into an angry rant.

"Fuck! This is my worst enemy! You are my worst enemy with all this shit all up my wall! How the fuck do you get a whole can of glitter up the fucking wall, bitch?"

The Swede looked up from painting his nails, blowing Rekker a kiss because he could. He was a spoiled little bitch who often had his way with everything. But, not today as Rekker grabbed the blankets from underneath the singer, yanking them hard so that Bjorn got pulled onto the floor with a soft thunk.

"Ah---you fucking bastard! My nails!---"

Rekker began laughing because he was angry but also couldn't stay angry too long at his trashy bitch. He loved Bjorn with everything he had even when the Swede covered his bathroom from top to toe with fucking glitter. A love hate relationship? Something like that.

"Get up, bitch. You come and clean this shit off my walls. Now."

The ginger Brit picked up Bjorn from the floor with little effort and slung him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The Swede squealed in protest and began hitting the back of Rekker's back, having a tantrum because this was typical Bjorn behaviour. How dare Rekker pull him onto the floor when he was in the middle of doing his nails! So fucking rude!

"You could have ruined my nails, you fucking ginger cockhead!"

Rekker didn't care. He wanted the glitter gone. Now. Shoving the bathroom door open with his foot, he let Bjorn down and pointed to where the glitter was stuck to the tiles of the shower, around the mirror and coated over the taps. Fucking everywhere.

"See? Fucking everywhere. Glitter is my worst enemy. You're my lover and fiancee but you're a fucking pain in the ass too, bitch."

The ginger slapped Bjorn's ass hard and then walked out wanting to grab some coffee and chill. Bjorn could clean the bathroom and he was going to make sure the singer did it. Bjorn offered a finger to his partner but then sighed. It was a shit ton of glitter and Rekker wouldn't be happy until it was cleaned so resigned himself to clean with a wet cloth. He would surely earn a fuck after this hopefully.

For Nexus prompt: 3. An unexpected heat wave. cw: swearing.

Bjorn couldn't sleep at all. It was so fucking hot. LA was a bitch with the sun and heat at the best of times but now? The bands were suffering through an LA heatwave and the ones that were finding it hard the most were everyone except Hexed, who were used to this kind of heat. A few of the others but the Brits and Scandinavians were roasting. Bjorn now tossing off his bed sheets as he went to splash some water on his face in Rekker's bathroom. Where was the ginger anyway? What was the time? Bjorn checked a clock in the living area and it was flashing 03.00.

"Three in the fucking morning? Shit! It's so hot and I hate it!"

The loud Swede just yelling slightly louder than usual but not caring because he needed to chill off somewhere. It was driving him crazy because he was all sweaty and he hated sweating. It made him all stinky and it was just disgusting. Walking out into the garden the Swede found Rekker just sleeping in a chair with a guitar magazine on the floor beside him face down on the grass. The reason why the ginger was in a chair was because Bjorn had been drunk and had tumbled into bed less than an hour ago. Rekker had aimed to join his fiance but had just fallen asleep in the chair instead.

"Babe? Wake up, it's so hot!"

Bjorn shoving Rekker's arm, causing the ginger Brit to start and he knew that voice from anywhere. Offering a grumpy growl the Brit rubbed at his eyes, irritated he was woken up by the Swede.

"What do you want? Why don't you go back to bed? It's fucking three am."

The singer just huffed and crossed his arms. Then feeling even hotter by doing this, Bjorn just wiped at his forehead with his hand. How could anyone sleep in this infernal heat? Rekker pulling the singer close to kiss his lips softly. He knew how annoying Bjorn could be but he still loved his trashy blond.

"How about we take a cool dip in the ocean? No one will be there at three am so it'll be peaceful."

Bjorn nodded and craved coolness. Anything to stop becoming a human popsicle! A melted one at that.

***

Around fifteen minutes later both Rekker and Bjorn were now padded along the warm sands towards the soothing sounds of the lapping waves. The ocean was like a pitch black void now staring back at them. It was so dark and menacing at night but Rekker wasn't phased. He just wanted to allow Bjorn to cool down because he knew the Swede wasn't used to this kind of heat.

"You can cool down now and stop being a demanding bitch."

The words were said with love though as Rekker padded into the waves dressed in just a pair of boardshorts because it was hot and he always wore them. Bjorn too had a pair on and just ended up throwing himself into the water because he was so hot.

"Ahhhh! That's better but-----cold now! The water is nice though---"

It was a bit of a shock to have cold water now immersed around his hot body but it was helping the Swede who was waist-deep in the water, now holding onto Rekker's hand. It was nice just the two of them in the dim light without anyone else around to harass them. No paparazzi, groupies or anyone else. Just the two of them taking a swim at three am.

The relief felt good!

"Thanks for bringing me here, babe. I felt like I was on fire back in the bed. You could have come into bed instead of falling asleep in that stupid ass chair though."

Bjorn now elbowing the Brit in the ribs playfully as Rekker just laughed, tipping some water onto Bjorn's bleached blond hair. A small shriek came from the Swede but no one around heard so it didn't matter if they were loud playing around in the water. The ginger then pulled his fiance into a hug, just enjoying the feel of him with the water lapping around both of them.

"Alright, sorry for falling asleep in the chair like an old man. Next time I'll jump on you and wake you up."

This would suit Bjorn.

It was 2 am and Bjorn was bored as fuck. Where the hell had Rekker gone to? Because the trashy Swede had been drinking with some of the other band members at the communal area of the hotel where the bands often came to drink and talk until the small hours of the morning. Ulrik had passed out under the table again after too many glasses of whiskey. Sigurd had given Bjorn a stern stare when the singer had ordered a whole jug of vodka and then proceeded to drink the whole thing with a pink sparkly straw.

Of course he did.

Lars had rolled his eyes and was now in bed since he didn't like getting dark rings around his eyes from lack of sleep. So he said. What a fucking prissy tart! Bjorn was now just left with Joe and Aarne who were laughing loudly at the bar area, feeding each other messily with bottles of Jack. They were smashed and could hardly sit on their stools properly without wobbling off. Ah well. The Swede was on his own and right now he was smashed himself, giggling and wanting to cause some mayhem. Getting up he took the elevator upstairs to where the band members were sleeping. He suddenly had a fantastic idea! Why didn't he give everyone a little sparkly gift to wake up to in the morning? Pulling out a bottle of pink glitter, Bjorn giggled once more to himself as he walked down the empty corridor, swaying slightly as he was so drunk.

He could tip glitter onto people's hair and have them wake up like pink sparkly angels! Yes, this would be good. Rekker? Now, he wouldn't want the stuff in his hair, would he? The ginger HATED it. Nope. The first room Bjorn came to was his brother's. Hans slept alone, which was a shame because he should be sharing it with that hot hairy racer boy. Ah well. Pushing the door open slightly and sneaking in, Bjorn gently crept up to where Hans was snoring, tipped some into his fluffy blond hair then left quickly.

"Fuck, that was close! Ok, who next? I know!"

Snorting a laugh, Bjorn slapped a hand over his mouth as he walked to where Mick and Ziggy's room was. Pushing the door open carefully, he peeked in the dark only seeing the figure of Mick passed out asleep on the bed. No sign of Ziggy. Maybe he was back downstairs drinking with Jack or that tall bodyguard boy. He had to be careful as to not wake the guitarist as Bjorn gently tipped some pink glitter onto Mick's soft blond hair. It was much like Hans just a little shorter in places. Stepping back out, Bjorn exhaled a breath then began giggling hard, feeling himself bump against the wall drunk.

"Holy shit, Ronno. You're a glitter princess now!"

Bjorn laughed as he then wondered who else? What about Robert or Erik? Hm. Or Weird? Nah. Oh. The Swede then wondered about Tom but then thought would be a bad idea. Stardust's old man but be so fucking pissed off. Viktor. Yes. The punk. But then he'd have to be very quiet as to not wake Vars. That Viking would kick his ass for sure. Sneaking around, the trashy singer then tried Viktor's room and realised it was locked. Fuck!

"Fuck! Locked! Maybe because Aarne plays shit on him---ah whatever. Who next?"

The Swede then decided to prank Billy, that hairy Brit boy with Rik. He wouldn't mind, would he? But then it would be funnier to prank his tarty brother, Gilly, wouldn't it? Fuck yes. Gilly! Running up to Hunter and Gilly's room, Bjorn pushed the door too and noticed their door was open. Some were, some weren't. Moving in with his last lot of glitter, Bjorn got to the bed and then tipped the rest all over Gilly's hair. Running back out quickly he burst out laughing and then nearly stumbled over his own feet as he attempted to flee the corridor, going back down to the communal bar area where Joe and Aarne were.

When people woke it was going to be a shit show for sure.

For the writing prompt: 3. Your character read the directions wrong, if they read them at all. Now something's not Quite Right.

"Would you all just shut up! I know where I'm going. Don't I, Ulrik?"

The blond singer just stared at his young guitarist and shrugged. He didn't know where the hell they were going either and now all five were looking confused at the sign in front of them. All of Blixt; Bjorn, Ulrik, Sigurd and Lars with Mick tagging along because he wanted to meet the new lads as he called it. Sigurd stepped up to the sign, which was at the side of the busy LA city street and frowned. His English wasn't as good as either Bjorn or Lars' so just shook his head and looked to Bjorn.

"Can no one read fucking English here?"

Mick stepped up to the sign and then squinted at the words. He could read English perfectly but this? This was something new. No one seemed to know what it meant at all. The words were pretty worn since the sign was old and all five were pretty drunk since they'd been to around two or three clubs now. What was the time? Early evening, so around seven O'clock. Very early for a rock star who often collapsed into bed at around 5am in the morning.

"I can't bloody work out what it says either, mate. Something about going that way down the alley for a party. The club must be down there surely."

Bjorn shoved past Mick to squint into the dark, dingy alley and shook his head. No. That couldn't be it. How the hell was a nightclub down some dingy alley that was just a line of garbage bins. Nope. This was utter bullshit! Lars folded his arms and tutted in his usual irritated tarty way when things weren't going his way.

"Why don't we just go back to the club we just came out of? It's got to be better than standing around on the street getting weird looks from the locals."

Sigurd thought this would be the best idea because they looked out of place standing on the street corner looking like lost tourists. That's what they were. Lost tourists from other countries. Jesus! The sign was just in a foreign language. It had to be. Mick gave it another shot to try and help his Scandi friends as he glanced at the wording one more time and knew it had to say something like;

"CL---uB >>>pAR..TY! ThIs WAY!>>>"

"Club Party, this way?"

The Brit shrugged and then turned to the rest of the group who just looked at each other and decided that it would be the best option to just go down the alley and check it out. Club party. Bjorn then decided to storm off down the alley way, waving his hand behind his head to get the others to follow. What an evening so far! Mick followed behind the tall Swede and behind him the rest of Blixt. Sigurd wasn't so sure about this...

"I don't know, Bjorn. It looks like a dead end to me. Lots of garbage everywhere."

Lars stood on a dirty banana skin close by one of the dumpster bins and screeched in disgust, kicking it towards Ulrik, who made a face and then shoved the drummer for being a bitchy tart. There was no sign of any club and the sign was surely a joke or perhaps someone had scrawled on it to mislead people. Bjorn was up ahead and then suddenly let out a loud scream of terror. He turned around and ran back, barging into Mick, nearly knocking the guitarist over as he screeched in fear, running back onto the road. Everyone else ran with Bjorn wondering what the hell was going on.

"What the hell?--- What's going on, Bjorn? Why did you scream?"

Lars angry and irritated because his boots were now soiled with disgusting trash. The Swede singer just pointed at the way they had just come and couldn't speak since he was obviously terrified at something. Mick was just looking behind, wondering if the Swede wasn't just high.

"There were----things back there! Creepy rats! I fucking hate rats!"

Sigured just rolled his eyes and Ulrik frowned, confused. Mick started giggling to himself because the bitchy singer was afraid of a few rats. Or maybe it was a massive nest. Either way there was no club down the alley and something wasn't quite right. Time to head back to the club they had just been to because there was no way the band was going to spend time partying with a bunch of city rats.

After finding out about the incident within the Mexican takeaway Bjorn was so fucking angry. Rekker had told him about the slimy reporter and this had riled up the Swede to no end. He'd wanted to have been there so he could have shoved the notepad up the guy's ass and then shoved him out onto the ground outside. Fucking rude! So now the Swede was going to plan to start shit, possibly with Aarne because he knew the crazy Fin would be up for this too.

Time to start the shit show.

The Swede had already been out shopping for the day down in LA and had come back to Rekker's mansion with bags of things. A whole shit load of condoms, super stretch ones, a couple of bottles of pink sparkly glitter and a big bottle of PVA glue. This was so that condom balloons could be made with glitter and glue poured inside. Ammunition for throwing at the bastard neighbours houses. Their posh, expensive mansions which needed to be decorated, clearly. Bjorn was going to throw empty booze bottles at their walls and windows too because why the fuck not?

Some of these fuckers called Rekker disgusting names like child rapist and shit. Bjorn wasn't having any of it so now he was grabbing the phone and calling the hotel where the bands were staying. He wanted to talk to Aarne.

"Hello! It's me, Bjorn. Who is this? I want to talk to Aarne."