The Canadian star claims he finds it weird that he’s considered a sex symbol and believes it’s only because he’s in the movies that people would even consider him attractive. “I’m as uncomfortable with it as I am talking about it,” the Metro reported him saying. “I know from just being a guy and looking at a billboard and you’re like: ‘That guy’s not a sex symbol. They’re trying to sell that on us? No way! That’s never gonna stick.’ And then suddenly he’s like a huge deal and you can’t believe it. I used to hate on those guys and now I am one.”
When Wallace was a kid he loved peanut butter and jelly sandwiches; they were his favorite and he had them for breakfast in school almost every day. ‘Tis the reason that when the household had run out of jelly one morning, Charles had to do something. The obvious solution was to use cherry flavored lube to prepare his son’s meal. This happened at least twice.
Charles randomly confessed it to Wallace when the boy was in his teenage years. Thanks to this Wallace can’t look at PB & J sandwiches for long, let alone eat them.
Ivan has fucked Milos in a variety of moments, showing very little care of Milos’ mental or physical state. Sick, bleeding or crying, it all turns the hell out of Ivan and it doesn’t stop him from trying and getting the little boy hard for him.
From this point, he seems untouchable—yes, he’s charming. Yes, he’s ruthless, and clever, and vile—thing is, he has no interest in being any of those things. He just is and doesn’t know how to be otherwise because he doesn’t notice. What he sees as ‘love’ is fucked up. What he sees as loving is just incredibly vicious and possessive. He doesn’t understand what he does is morally wrong, because as he grew up he was taught no morality.
In his eyes, he’s friendly, helpful, and charismatic; well-mannered unless the situation calls for it, and even then, he never shows anger in an explosive way. He has a way with words and enjoys talking, even if to himself, to organize his thoughts. He’s an strategist always thinking in a schematized manner with a storage of knowledge that he uses whenever the situation calls for it. Most of the time he remains confused by people’s show offs. There’s an ever-present layer of calm in him, a nauseatingly sweet and warm exterior. He’s never ashamed to admit when he’s not good at something, but he’ll never do anything he knows he has not mastered just yet.
Ivan doesn’t require ‘recharge time’ and interaction energizes him. He is an extrovert which is not the same as being a team-player, although he can pull that off. He can only be a team-player if he’s the leader, and if he isn’t, he’ll take the attitude of a leader nonetheless. It’s who he is and you’re better off under his command anyway. In exchange he grants you his protection as long as you remain efficient.
And isn’t efficiency the magical word; the ability to follow guidelines and give the expected result in a timely matter. That’s his mantra and he will be cruel to those hindering the progress. He’s a merciless, unorthodox leader. The kind who’d pull any mean to get to an end, if he saw it appropriate and beneficial—not only for himself, but for everybody involved. Be an obstacle and, like any other flaw, he’ll erase you. Limits of any kind are no part of his mindset. Conflicts are necessary in order to get to a solution. He was isolated from society, it’d take a lot of time for him to unlearn how he is, and values he expects from others are not values one should expect from him.
The reason he falls neither in the chaotic nor the lawful sides of a moral alignment is that he tiptoes to whatever conveniences at any particular moment. He’s always thinking about the what-ifs and his mentality adapts almost instantly in order to impose himself, so there are not rules set in stone for his behavior.
Listing off all things that are wrong with Ivan would take forever, and honestly, nobody would like to hear. The basics, though. He has no empathy for anyone, regardless of who they are and no respect for anybody’s life. From conditioning one’s behavior to turning someone into a slave, torture, or a little entertainment for the eyes; he’s limitless on what he can do to break someone and has no qualms, no scruples, in making someone lose their sense of humanity. What would be off-putting for the most ruthless translates to just a necessary mean for Ivan, however unfortunate.
Ivan made himself through knowledge, but it’ll be foolish of him to expect that kind of thing for everyone else. He’s not the introspective kind, he’s not one without an audience. He needs people, conversing, brainstorming, debates, and will thoroughly enjoy having them with people who may not have the same view as him, specially if said people stand by what they say with confidence. It’ll be not personal when he shows them wrong, repeatedly, refuting any argument they throw at him. The more he talks, the better he’ll grasp the concept, which fuels his already-high confidence and energizes him. From the other person’s perspective he will appear as inflexible and cold, looking only to promote his own point of view and tear apart theirs. Which is, kind of true.
Factoids have no place for him. Speculation, rumors, gossip—they bore him out, and he’ll not participate in them. Theories, on the other hand… he can talk about them for hours, even if just for fun, twisting them and breaking them apart over and over in order to understand them. Throw any non-sentimental topic at him and humor him, he’ll love it.
He counts with a fair share of weaknesses, Achilles’ heels if one must. He’s very impatient, losing tolerance with those who cannot give them a proper answer in little time. It’s something he should practice more; he’s arrogant, not expecting people to stand up to his level, genuinely surprised when people do; he’s poor at handling emotions and will most likely screw up any situation where he’s expected to give any type of emotional comfort or reaction; he’s allergic to irrational opinions and will take little in pointing them out, but won’t fret over them if they don’t concern him; Milos could be considered a weakness on his own, since his safety is primordial for Ivan and he’ll be willing to give in to a lot if it were ever threatened. Though, the consequences won’t be pretty.
Peter responds to directness. He’s always thinking of too many things at once, and for you to beat around the bush about your attraction to him—he’ll not notice it, ever, unless you make the first move. Said first move must be clear. If you want to go on a date with him, say so. Don’t just say ‘hang out’, he will and he does, hang out with everybody. You won’t be any different or special.
Just know what you want and know how much you want it and act upon it, he’ll like it, and most likely be attracted to it.
It’s not even that important, but mixed with the one above he’ll be naturally attached to you. You don’t have to be as intelligent as him but you do need to have natural curiosity or an ability to ask questions. It’s really that simple. He can do all the talking.
There’s no exact thing that could turn him off. Just don’t… be a jerk? He’ll probably handle you anyway if you’re a jerk. It’s hard for Peter to get annoyed at anyone or anything and if something does don’t expect him to show it. Simply don’t.
One time Ivan and Milos went to the hypermarket together—Milos was sixteen when it happened. Doesn’t occur very often since their house’s supply of food rarely slacks, but Ivan had decided to make dinner and certain ingredients were missing.
The scene was kind of surreal, to see Ivan in such a domestic environment, surrounded by people that didn’t know who he was, walking right and past him without blinking twice and Ivan granting them the same courtesy, trying to judge by the consistency and appearance which potatoes were better, asking Milos his opinion on whatever they bought. But it was nice, maybe. Perhaps.
The night’s chilly to the point Charles shivers, strands of wild grass tickling beneath his naked back. He raises a hand to scratch his sweat-matted hair, fingernails catching stray particles of dirt in the process. The nearest river’s only ten feet away and if he wanted to, he could get rid of all the filth in his body.
But he doesn’t for now. He awaits, eyes half-closed and blinking slowly to the same pace of his breath. The muddy ground exhales and the wind pierces mercilessly, hairs standing on end. He in contrast, inhales. He could get up and get his shirt on, or dip in the freezing-cold water, or he could just lie on the leafy field as a pretense it is more than what it looks, when it’s truly just that: laziness bottled inside an almost six feet four man. A tall man freezing to death refusing to get up because it’s too comfy.
It’s really just that until it isn’t.
In turn he rolls, lays on his stomach, kneels, brushes the soil off his chest and gets up. The practice of patience is a long-term one.
Charles strolls the ten feet and adds in three until he’s up the knees in the easy current, and yep, water’s as icy as he had imagined. He submerges with pants included, given he has spare ones and these could use cleansing. At the deepest part of the river the water barely reaches his waist, but he bends and immerses completely, eyes closed, body slowly getting used to the high temperature.
He slathers his hands through his body, sinks one, two, three times more until he’s used to the water and being outside becomes the deadly-cold option. He breathes deeply as he makes the effort to move now, in quick little steps hindered by his pants, which he takes off at them becoming but a burden.
Practically naked, he closes the space between the truck he rented and himself, picking both the towel and the blanket as he enters the driver’s side. Once he dries off both by the wind and the towel he skims for his clean clothes, taking an awfully long amount of time to get dressed, but once he does he wraps himself in the blanket and gets as comfy as he possibly can.
If Charles smoked, he’d be pulling out a cigarette. But he doesn’t, so his eyelids drop in contrast with his chest, which lifts in a long inhalation, a yawn and an itch on his cheek getting scratched.
For a while that’s only what he does, surrounded by the night and thick blankets. He breathes until he adapts, head dropping into the seat, a smaller, weaker yawn as he drifts off to sleep.