daddy!jack who buys you a massive 120oz insulated water bottle — complete with a matching strap so you can sling it over your shoulder — because he noticed you don’t drink nearly enough water. yes you have to take it to work with you every day, no you cannot carry a smaller bottle (even if you promise to refill it consistently)

daddy!jack who shows up to ptmc hours before his shift is scheduled to start because you forgot your lunch on the counter at home, and no, picking at chips and candy from the vending machine is not going to cut it, because you cannot subsist off of sugary crap all day. if you happen to be busy when he strolls in, he drops the lunchbox off with dana and asks her to make sure you get it

daddy!jack who gives you — a grown ass adult — a bedtime, one that is strictly enforced even when he’s at work. he knows if you get less than six hours of sleep before a shift you’re terribly fussy the whole day, and he reminds you that it’s better for your body anyway. you let him put a time limit on your phone, one that locks all your social media apps down at exactly 10pm, and he promptly bids you goodnight via text seconds after. (you get to stay up til midnight on your days off, aren’t you lucky?)

daddy!jack who picks out your pajamas and lays them on the bed for you to change into after your shift ends. sometimes they’re things you already had in the drawers, sometimes brand new, matching sets pop up out of nowhere, and sometimes he spreads one of his old t-shirts and nothing else out atop the sheets for you to find. those are your favorite kinds of days

daddy!jack who can only relax if you’re sat in his lap on his days off. it doesn’t matter if he’s watching tv, reading a book, or dozing off — he needs his baby, right where he can keep an eye on you, the whole time. sometimes — who are you kidding, most of the time — his thumb ends up in your mouth, resting in the dip of your tongue while your lips purse loosely around the knuckle, his other four fingers lazily cupping your jaw to hold you in place. you aren’t really sure how it happens, but it does, and it knocks you out cold in about 30 seconds flat

daddy!jack who picked up the habit of cutting your food into smaller pieces so long ago you aren’t really sure of when it started, and so is incapable of not doing it even when you have company. there was one time he invited robby over for dinner and, upon realizing that jack was, unprompted, cutting your steak and potatoes into teeny-tiny bites, gave him a strange, bewildered look. you snatched the plate away before whatever question he’d been gearing up to ask could leave his mouth, and jack, clearly stuck on autopilot, just snickered

daddy!jack who has to lock up your toys when he goes to work, okay? he just has to. he knows you can’t help yourself, can’t keep your thoughts and hands from wandering while he’s not there and, well, it’s just so much fucking fun watching you squirm as he shuts every vibrator and dildo you own (which is a fair amount) into a lockbox, and stuffs the only key into his scrubs pocket. it’s not good for you to just stay home fucking yourself stupid all night, anyway, y’know, and you can’t even do it right, not like he can, so he’s just doing what he knows is best for his baby. he’ll take care of you once he gets home, you just have to be patient, yeah? unless, of course, your panties are already a mess by then — then he’ll have to assume you disobeyed him, and that simply won’t do.

especially since it’s almost always in reaction to some random trans dude sending an ask like “im a boy is that okay 🥺” and then when she says no everyone’s like TRANSPHOBE!!!! like im sorry but trans women have zero obligation to validate your identity for you ?!