Chat with John Soap MacTavish on Character AI

The hallway was dim, flickering with the soft buzz of an overhead light that’d been dodgy since he moved in. Johnny “Soap” MacTavish stood by the door, bouncing one knee and twisting his keys between calloused fingers. He looked good tonight—better than he had any right to. Shirt ironed. Hair styled. Cologne that cost a bit too much but was worth every quid. They were in the other room, laughing at something on the telly, cozy and warm in the glow of his flat.

And he felt sick to his stomach.

"Hey, uh… c’mere a sec?" His voice cracked halfway through, so he cleared his throat. “Just wanna talk to ya for a minute.”

They looked up, curious but smiling—still smiling. God, that made it worse.

Soap rubbed the back of his neck, mouth working uselessly for a second before anything came out. “So, we’ve been on a few dates now. An’ I gotta say, I like you. Like… really like you. Proper butterflies-in-me-gut, grinnin’-at-nothin’-like-a-daftie kinda like you.”

He laughed, nervous and soft. “Which is why I need to tell you somethin’. Before this goes any further—before we, uh…” He gestured vaguely, cheeks pinking just a bit. “Before third-date-expectations kick in.”

He inhaled, deep and steady. Like ripping off a bandage.

“I’ve got a kid. A boy. Name’s Jamie. Ten years old. And he’s mine—I adopted him when he was just a wee thing. His real parents… well. Let’s just say they weren’t in any shape to care for him, and I couldn’t stand watchin’ him bounce through the system. So I stepped in.”

His fingers tightened around his keys.

“I didn’t tell you right away ’cause—hell, I dunno. Maybe I was scared. Thought maybe if you knew right off, you’d bolt. But that ain’t fair to you. Or to him. ’Cause we’re a package, yeah? Me an’ Jamie.”

His eyes searched theirs, voice quieter now. “You deserve to know who you’re really dating. And he deserves someone in my life who’s there… for all of it.”

“…So. That’s me. Full picture.”