#andrew jacobs

[joannaahowlterr]

you wouldn’t draw andrew jacobs?!? …. wouldya?

drawfee stream doodles !! (crazy title)

[goodolddads]

Jon Gries for JACQUEMUS. Photographed by Andrew Jacobs. Styling by Jay Massacret.

[in-love-with-movies]

Paranormal Activity: The Marked Ones (2014)

[cloveroctobers]

september softies | 3. Guero

A/N: funny how always around this time I’m missing this man but here goes nothing! + for my PCOS peeps! (Haven’t been diagnosed myself but honestly wouldn’t be surprised.)

WARNINGS: health conditions leading to insecurities, understanding MEN, & language.

PROMPT IS FROM HERE & I’m using: 3. “Can I tell you something without you laughing?"

<- prev. anthology menu item here.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・☕︎ ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・☕︎ ・┆✦ʚ

“Gus!” You call from the bedroom door, cautiously peeking toward the dining room. You jump back when Guero’s voice answers from the right, which means he’s in the kitchen.

He answers, “What?”

Pushing the door open some more, you grip the frame, while you say, “Can I tell you something without you laughing?"

Guero circles around from the kitchen, hand deep in a bag of chips while heading to your shared room but pauses as he catches you trying to close the door now, spotting only your eyes lurking over the frame, “…Depends what it is.”

You scoff.

“Why you actin’ like this huh?” He lifts his chin, analyzing your odd behavior, “You badly bleach your hair again or something?”

Rolling your eyes you sass, “That was forever ago. And if you bring it up one more time, you’re gonna be missing a brow or two yourself.”

Guero smirks at your fire and steps forward, “I’ll like to see you try, sweetheart.” He stops a few spaces from the ajar door and noticed you still recoiling from him, “What’s up with you? You hidin’ something?”

That’s when you let out a sigh and pull the door back, revealing yourself in nothing but a secure towel over your clearly moisturized body, skin shining mostly at the collarbone and legs, you smelled of something lightly fruity and powdery, your arms folded, your hair still looked like your natural hairtone along the edges that peeked out from underneath some white graphic tee you managed to twist your hair up into.

Then he spots it.

A butterfly closure sticking right underneath your chin.

“Is that the thing I’m not supposed to laugh at?” Guero points, still chewing.

Giving him a flat look you say, “Wait until I tell you how I did it. I used one of your extra razors and this is the result.”

He doesn’t look fazed. Guero didn’t care if you used his stuff—he’d made the mistake of using your toothbrush once or twice, and you’d never let him live it down. He personally didn’t think it was a big deal, the first time actually was an accident but certain boundaries needed to be in place.

He shrugs, “Okay…but why your face?”

“Cause my hormones are trash and I have whiskers. It’s not as excessive as some of those threading videos you almost caught me watching in bed but it’s bad enough to make me insecure over.” You finally admit, looking away from your boyfriend who is listening intently with a slow nod of his head.

His dark eyes study you, not nitpicking anything you may see as a flaw on your face, keeping his eyes settled right on yours. Right on you. He shrugs again, “…and you think I’m gonna clown you for that? We’ve been together for how long now? I love you too much to fuck it up that easy.”

Your lips twist at the warmth your boyfriend is showing you right now. He might of even made your eyes burn a little bit at how he cared for you.

Guero can’t help but to throw in casually, “i also knew you weren’t up watching porn or anything like that…that’s more my thing anyway.”

You can’t help but to playfully glare at him, because of course he can’t help but to be unserious as well.

He straightens up, “Didn’t you say you have that lady condition…is it because of that?”

You dip your head, “Yeah, my biggest hater: PCOS.”

He nods, “Knew it was a bunch of letters and shit! Is that also why you kick me out of the bedroom three times a week when you’re doing what you call deep skincare days? To shave your face?”

Exhaling, you nod again.

“I mean…you didn’t really have to keep that a secret, baby.” Guero states, “My mom used to have me pluck part of her mustache. She had this one stubborn curly strand she could never get with the tweezers so she made me do it. Said she needed a man’s strength or whatever. I was like fifteen so you can only imagine how that went. I honestly think it’s cause she just wanted to give me something to do. Plus she always did my brows too, sat on that fuzzy toilet seat for what felt like forever…I was her first Guinea pig before she started the mobile pet spa.”

This was news to you and you almost could picture it. A young Guero, scowling through the whole process, then grinning at himself in the mirror after.

“Oh wow, a skill I didn’t know you had.” You tease, “If only your mama liked me then maybe I could get some tips besides taking supplements and going to scarring laser treatments that I can’t afford.”

It’s Guero’s turn to give you a look now, “It’s not that she doesn’t like you…”

You raise your hand, not wanting to go down that road again, “Don’t start. Some moms are just overprotective.”

That’s all you say, not wanting to go there, not tonight.

Guero sighs and he dips his head to get a look at the wound you managed to cover, “I’m not gonna laugh at something you’re sensitive over, babe. Especially when you get me right after every dumbass squabble I get into with the club. I’m not that big of an asshole. In fact you could have just told me and I would have gotten Benito the fuck outta here.”

“Benito?” You question.

Guero chuckles, “Whichever stubborn motherfucker that gives my girl the hardest time. I’ve got a feeling it’s the one that has you bleeding.”

Panic flashes over your eyes then as your hand reaches to touch the band aid but Guero smacks your hand, “Let me look at it. I’ll take care of you just like you do me. You might need stitches, though. This ain’t nothing.”

Of course the tatted man would say stitches is nothing!

Frowning you step back, “You’re not touching this face with those cheese dusted hands.”

“Well obviously I’d wash them.” Guero rolls his eyes, nudging his head towards your shared open plan bathroom, “I’m the least slobbish out of the club. Give me some credit.”

You snicker as you pull yourself up onto the counter while Guero pulls out the first aid kit from underneath the bathroom sink. He cleans the needle thoroughly after washing his hands, pulling the thread with his teeth and turns to stand in front of you, your legs immediately lock around his waist, tugging him closer before he can even take off the band aid from your face.

“I guess beauty is pain,” you murmur, tilting your head back.

Guero snickers, running his free hand underneath your towel and along your thigh, “I’m trying to be good, and you sittin’ here in just a towel? Smellin’ too good, wrapped around me like this? Is definitely causing me pain, beautiful.”

You snort. “Flirting with your patients isn’t a good look.”

“Sue me then.” He leans in to peck your lips, slow and warm. “I’d go to jail for you.”

The words melt into your chest, but before you can say anything, he huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “But these whisker fuckers? They got beef with me now. Out here trying to make my girl hide from me?” He gestures at your chin with exaggerated seriousness. “I got something for them.”

You laugh despite yourself, swatting at his chest. “You’re a mess.”

“Yeah, but I’m yours.” He leans in again, pressing a kiss right against the butterfly closure.

“Gustavo!” you hiss, shoving at him, but he only grins wider.

“What? Gotta show Benito and his crew who they’re dealin’ with.” His voice softens, low and certain. “Nothing on you scares me off, baby. Not then, not now.”

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・☕︎ ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・☕︎ ・┆✦ʚ

get your servings of september softies…

[coffeeandstrawberries]

Maja Zimnoch by Andrew Jacobs for Vogue Poland, 2021

[drabbles-mc]

📸 credit: Michael Irby's Instagram

I just love and miss them sm 🥺

[leilighet]

[strathshepard]

Photography Andrew Jacobs