// an archive of curated interests + rotating hyperfixations
subjects: multi-fandom / fiction / art / reading / history
notes:
— exhibits frequent “one more episode / chapter” behavior
— extensive cataloging of passing interests that did not, in fact, pass
— occasional overanalysis mistaken for casual enjoyment
— suspiciously knowledgeable about things no one asked about
— highly susceptible to compelling narratives and handsome fools
— curator is functioning normally (unverified)
current brain tabs open: the pitt; shawn hatosy; law and order/svu; lewis pullman; star wars; cowboy romances; old hollywood; period dramas; heated rivalry; off campus; plus more than i can think of off the top of my head, but give me time;
Summary: chaos ensues when jack takes himself & your son for a haircut.
Warnings: TONS of fluff, age-gap, implied sex (??), yearning/longing, soft dad!jack & medical inaccuracies.
Word Count: 819
Author’s Note: this came to me at midnight after watching a tiktok & i needed to write it IMMEDIATELY after, i love dad jack abbot !! <3
Really, you should’ve known better when Jack was gone longer than he was supposed to be. Yes, your son was a toddler—and in his squirmy wiggly worm stage—but haircuts don’t take that long. Even if they were both getting one.
So when you heard your front door open two hours later, you didn’t know what to expect.
“Mama! We’re home!” Jack’s voice filled the house.
You could hear your son’s quiet giggles and Jack’s best attempts at softly shushing him.
With the basket of laundry on your hip you headed towards the living room, stopping in your tracks when you rounded the corner.
Jack was standing there with a bouquet of all your favorite flowers in his hands. It was almost bigger than him. You knew he was up to something; but still, you couldn’t stop the immediate swell and softness in your heart.
“What’s all this for?”, You ask, putting down the laundry basket; eyes flitting between Jack and your son—who clung to your husband’s pant-leg—hood still up.
Jack shrugged, leaning in and kissing your cheek softly as he handed you the bouquet; “Just something for my wife.”
You narrow your eyes are him, leaning into the kiss; “I can see that, but why?”
Jack tsks once; “Can’t a guy just spoil his wife?”
“He can”, You nod, “But when he’s two hours late from a haircut and shows up with flowers, said wife tends to get suspicious.”
You take in Jack’s haircut; the same he always gets, just a little shorter on the sides—curls trimmed neatly on the top and curling at the base of his neck. He looked extra handsome, cleaned up nice with hair still slightly damp.
“Don’t get mad”, Jack says, trying his best to bite back a smirk.
Immediately thoughts start going through your head; “Last time you said that we ended up with a kitten.”
You look at the guilty smile he’s wearing; “Please do not tell me there’s another kitten.”
Jack laughs; “No animals this time, Mama.”
You sigh in relief, not that you didn’t love the little ball of grey fur that your boys brought home three months ago, or the lack of personal space it brought with it.
Jack leans down to your son, speaking softly: “Wanna show Mama your new look?”
Immediately you’re thinking buzz cut. Jack took your son out and buzzed all his beautiful red curls off and you’re preparing to kick his ass now.
But when your son giggles with a nod and pulls his hood down, your jaw drops.
“Oh my god, Jack-“
A mullet. Your son has a mini mullet.
Hair shaved short on the sides, and strawberry blonde curls on the top leading down to the back where it’s slightly longer. But damn it, he looks cute.
“He picked it out himself”, Jack smirks, hands nonchalantly in his pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet like a teenager in trouble.
“Mama like?”, Your son asks, beaming up at you with the widest smile you’ve ever seen and cheeks so round you could squish them forever.
You just laugh, actually laugh. Probably in relief your son still has hair.
So you kneel down, arms open and outstretched as your son runs immediately into them—careful to set the flowers down on the hallway table before your tiny speedster can squish them.
“You look so handsome, baby!”, You tell him, kissing his freshly cut curls and turning his head gently with your hands to get a better look.
Your son giggles, smile stolen from Jack’s face and eyes to match.
In the midst of it all—Jack clears his throat behind you—a shy smile on his lips.
You roll your eyes, standing up with a ruffle to your son’s hair as he runs off towards his playroom; pulling Jack in by his shirt collar.
“Daddy looks handsome too”, You say, eyes dancing over his face, hands in his freshly trimmed curls.
“Yeah?”, Jack asks giddily, eyebrows raised as he locks eyes with you.
“Definitely.”
You bite your bottom lip softly before standing on your tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips that has him humming a content sigh.
“…Think Robby’ll babysit tonight?”
Jack’s smile turns mischievous—fingers digging a little more into your hips—still not hard enough to hurt: “Oh he better.”
Jack leans in again, but you stop him with a finger to his lips.
“You’re just lucky you didn’t shave his head.”
Jack fakes a gasp when you move your finger to point it at him.
“I’d never.”
“Good”, You say, “Cause you’d be homeless or living with Robby.”
Jack laughs softly, grabbing your waist and pulls you in close again; “You’d miss me.”
“Maybe.”
Then his lips are on yours again, drowning out every worry you had and replacing them with the thought of how lucky you are to have your boys.
shawn’s curls literally make a heart in the picture i used for the header im crYING—
Keeping an alive tumblr in 2026 is proof of one's sincerity and authenticity - a type of person who enjoys posting for the sake of it with absolutely nothing to be gained....just the enjoyment of curation and self expression untainted by opportunity and relevance
oh my god. most of life really is about the little things. a good haircut, a nice playlist, trying a new recipe that turns out well, a poem that hits home, a comfortable spot in the sun, spontaneous messages, a pen you enjoy writing with, tea with the right temperature to drink, buying that thing you’ve been eyeing for a while, a warm bed. yeah im so grateful for the small joys
