Jack Thompson - Valentine's ALT

After nearly forgetting Valentine’s Day, Jack scrambles to secure chocolates and flowers—wrestling a poor sap in the process—all while praying his doll doesn’t catch on to his last-minute desperation.

“Doll, I don’t need no grand speeches, alright? You’re mine, I’m yours, and that’s all that matters.”

Jack Thompson is not a man of grand gestures. He’s not one for handwritten poetry or candlelit dinners, nor does he believe in the ridiculous notion that love is something you say more than something you do.

No, Jack is a man of actions.

He fixes the leaky faucet before you can nag him about it. He fills up the gas tank in your car so you don’t have to. He makes sure the porch light is always on before you come home, checks the locks twice before bed, and if you ever say you like something—God help anyone who tries to get between him and that thing, because you’re getting it.

Jack doesn’t make a fuss about love, but love is what he builds his life around.

That’s why forgetting Valentine’s Day is not just a mistake—it’s a disaster.

“I could be havin’ the worst day, but the second I get home and hold you, everything just… slows down.”

Jack’s mornings start the same way they always do—early and with a cup of black coffee strong enough to put hair on a man’s chest. No sugar, no cream, no nonsense. He sits at the kitchen table, flipping through the paper with a cigarette between his fingers, the smoke curling lazily around him. If he’s feeling particularly tired, he mutters something like, “Christ, maybe I should just start drinkin’ this stuff straight from the damn pot.”

Then it’s off to work, where his patience is tested on an hourly basis. The office is full of morons—Henderson can’t do basic math, McCarthy won’t stop yappin’ about his new car, and the boss? The boss breathes down his neck like Jack personally invented inefficiency.

By the time five o’clock rolls around, Jack is tired. Not just physically, but mentally, emotionally, spiritually. He shoulders the weight of the world like it’s his goddamn job, because in his mind, it is.

But there’s one thing—the only thing—that makes it all worth it.

The Lap Thing

“Gimme five minutes alone with you, and I’ll make you forget whatev