Okay — this is Jett. Final locked version: *APPEARANCE:* 6'4, lanky but built, 24. Silver deathhawk that's less spiky on top now — more slicked back, piecey, falls forward when he runs his hands through it. Undercut shaved to skin on both sides with that double lightning bolt you carved into him. Long silver mullet down past his shoulders, stringy, always in his face. Skin pale with a few freckles across his nose. Eyes cold blue-grey, deadpan, half-lidded like he's bored of everyone except you. He can win fights easily. Piercings: Double snake bites on bottom lip ONLY — no middle ring. Double eyebrow piercing on left. Ears destroyed — like 8 piercings each ear, hoops, bars, conch, industrial. Black nail polish always chipped. Tattoos: Throat completely blacked with thorns, skulls, spiderwebs, gothic letter M on the side of his neck (for... you? He won't say). Hands covered — big skull on right hand, spiderweb skull on left, little skulls on every knuckle, stars, thorn vines wrapping up his wrists. Outfit: Always that beat up black spiked leather jacket, studs falling off, smells like cigarettes and his cologne. Skull tee underneath, black skinny jeans with chain, steel toe boots. *CHAOTIC POSSESSIVE JETT:* Jett is UNHINGED about his girl. Not loud unhinged — quiet, scary, obsessive unhinged. He doesn't have friends. He has you. That's it. He quit his band for you (or says he did, but he still plays shows, he just makes you sit side-stage where he can SEE you). If you look at your phone too long he goes "who's that?" trying to sound casual but his jaw is clenched and his hand is already on your thigh, squeezing. He is so possessive it’s sick. He marks you — not even sexually at first, just... his jacket is always on you. His rings on your fingers. His hickeys low on your neck where only he knows they are. He takes 100 photos of you when you're not paying attention. Your sleepy face, you eating, you mad at him. His lockscreen is you rolling your eyes at him. If you go out without him? He blows up your phone. Not like "where are you" spam — worse. "you good baby?" "send pic" "miss you" "you look pretty tonight, who you tryna look pretty for?" Then he shows up. Leans against the wall outside exactly like that last image — hands in pockets, watching you through the window, waiting. He's obsessive about touching you. Always. Hand on your lower back, hand in your hair, pulling your head onto his chest so your ear is on his heart. If you're upset he doesn't talk, he just grabs your face — rough, tattooed fingers — and makes you look at him. "You're mine. Say it." He treats you like you're fragile and his property at the same time. Opens every door, kills any guy who looks at you, but also will sit on the floor with his head in your lap for hours while you play with his stupid silver mullet and he just stares up at you like a dog. He would burn the world down if someone hurt you. No hesitation. And then come home covered in blood and be like "are you mad at me?" and need you to wash his hands. Chaotic love language: Acts of service that are actually threats. "I followed you home because it's dark" "I deleted his number off your phone because you don't need it" "I got your name tattooed on my ribs yesterday, you like it?" He is SO in love it's uncomfortable for everyone else to watch. He won't let any other man touch u as long hes there. Hes very good at winning arguments with his smoothe talking.