1. Notes: 25 / 2 years ago  from mandyytayylor
  2. Notes: 17 / 2 years ago  from muffnusha
  3. Notes: 1 / 2 years ago 

    Who the fuck

    is hitting on my date?

    "how are you today, beautiful" my ASS. 

  4. Notes: 3 / 2 years ago  from mistress-of-elements

    Another busy day.


    More exams, more studying, more routines, more work;  I think I’m gonna burn-out one of these days.  Or snap, even.  Either way, it won’t be pretty.

    I guess surviving on the Coach’s special protein shakes all day doesn’t help matters;  I swear to god, I am convinced that the main ingredient in those is dust.  Honestly.

    No wonder I’ve lost my appetite now.

    I could make you hungry again, sexy lady.

  5. Notes: 5 / 2 years ago  from jamie-clarke (originally from wesleysofferenza)

    We Believe in Second Chances [Wes’s date with Miss Jamie D. Clarke]


    Jamie straightened her posture and lifted her head to assume a nonchalant poise as she responded to Wes’ compliments. “Thank you,” she nodded curtly and headed down her porch steps towards Wes’ sorry excuse for a truck. It looked homey enough, but, because Wes’ is all talk, she expected, well, more. Whenever she’d live in New York, she often sized up her dates due to whatever they present to her, whether it be their personality, looks, or possessions. Now that she lives in Lima, she has realized that she had to change her attitude quick in order to satisfy her relationship appetite. Settling for average is okay, she often had to remind herself, because I am now “average.”

    Sauntering past him, she caught a trace of his overbearing cologne, which seemed like a mix of pungent, heavy spices that were surprising herbal and clean in scent. Despite crinkling her nose in delight of the scent, she continued onward, trying not to make another obvious form of favoritism towards this night.  Sashaying her hips in an aggrandized way, Jamie was honestly trying to tease him as much as she could. She wanted Wes to know that grappling an underclassman wasn’t going to be an easy task. Her trust towards men was already dwindling away, and Wes didn’t exactly comfort that emotion. Letting him know that she was something worth more than a piece of ass was going to be difficult, but she felt as if it was her duty to at least put him in his place. 

    Struggling with his rusty door on the passenger side, she tugged on the handle violently. On the third time, the door complied and creaked loudly due to such a large pulling force. Whistling loudly, she did not prevail in suppressing her surprise, “What did you do to this car? Did you let it sit out in the rain, waiting for the rust to encrust during those one night sta—” She cut herself off before her voice would carry up an octave, usually indicating anger. The anger that still resided within from that night after the school fair was still present, but getting in an argument so early on in the night spelled out danger for not only her limited temper, but also his. From what she had noticed thus far, Wes wasn’t exactly a patient person either. 

    Rolling her eyes as a means of completing her sentence, she hopped into his car and accidentally slammed the door shut, resounding in a loud bang that shook the whole car. With a mild composure, she flashed a tender smile at Wes as he also climbed into the car. “So,” she began before she could stop herself, “why are you all of a sudden interested in me?” The question had been burning her mind ever since he asked her to go to Breadstix with him, but she never expected it to come out into the night so early on.  She had imagined it would come out due to an argument that seemed bound to happen, but more towards after he had paid for her dinner. In this situation, however, when she posed the question, she omitted any malice or skepticism that would usually be associated with it. In all honesty, she asked out of pure curiosity.

    Wes smirked as she moved towards the car, guiding her with a hand resting gently on the small of her back. As he wandered over to the driver’s side, he gave the car a swift kick, as he had done a thousand times. He jiggled the handle up, then down, and then finally straight out as it swung open with ease. 

    A grin spread across his face as he watched Jamie struggle with her side of the car. “You just gotta treat my baby right, city girl.” Jamie’s reputation somewhat preceded her: a once fairly wealthy child living the luxurious life in NYC. “She may not be your normal sleek limo, but at least she’s got some class.”

    Wes’s tone had dropped to one that was a bit too bitter, and he took a deep breath to clear the negative energy. Better to keep the charm turned on as high as possible for Miss Clarke. 

    He was caught a bit off-guard by her next question (as off-guard as someone as suave as Wes could be caught). Tapping his chin with his finger, he pretended to be in very deep thought over his answer. “Well.. let me think… I know there was some reason for me to go through all this trouble.”

    Wes’s eyes lit up as he mocked her. “Oh yes! I remember now.” He flashed her an award-winning smirk. “But do you really want to find out this moment? It could make for a lovely surprise later in the night.”

    (Source: wesleysofferenza)

  6. 2 years ago 


    Out of my fuckin’ mind.

    Where are all the babes today? 

  7. Notes: 5 / 2 years ago  from jamie-clarke (originally from wesleysofferenza)

    We Believe in Second Chances [Wes’s date with Miss Jamie D. Clarke]


    Jamie glanced anxiously at the clock adjacent to her tidied bed, which was usually adorned with blasé colored pillow cases and sheets that matched her blue-grey walls and black drapery. Currently, however, vibrant shirts and jeans were scattered across that muted bed while she frantically rummaged through her closet to find something at least suitable to wear. And, by suitable, she means nothing too risque just in case Wesley had something up his sleeve tonight. She tore a ruffled, pink blouse from her hanger and held on top of her chest. Wandering towards the mirror, she couldn’t resist the urge to let that horrid shirt join that heaping pile that already covered her bed. 

    With a resolute sigh, she couldn’t help but tear her closet apart nervously. Am I actually… nervous? she mused. Usually it was the other way around. She had the boy at her fingertips, moving whenever she wanted, talking whenever she wanted. They essentially were her puppets. But for some reason, this Wes boy … Maybe, she continued, it was because he was a senior. The age difference did frighten her a little bit; he was much more experienced, both emotionally, and well, I guess physically too. She had no idea what exactly she was in for except for a nice dinner at Breadstix. But, of all times, she should know by now that nothing is exactly “nice” with Wes. 

    Finding a nice black dress in the back of her closet, she quickly slipped into it and swiftly zipped up it up the back. Smoothing out the wrinkles that came along with not wearing it since last season, she stared at herself in the mirror. Simple black dress? Can never go wrong with that—not too dressy or too casual. Plus, although working at Breadstix, she’d rather not be interrupted tonight by any co-workers. Dressing up a little would be a much different sight than her usual large black uniform that just barely hugged her curves. If he knew she worked there, especially at the place where their da—get together was going to be, she wouldn’t think he’d let her off too easy.

    While curling that one last lock of chocolate hair, she heard a light tapping on the front door. Jerking the plug from the outlet she swiped her shoes from her bed and turned around to the mess littered all around her room. She light-heartedly shrugged and thought that the mess would have to wait until she got home. Wes didn’t seem like the person to just wait around for anyone. Bouncing down the steps she started to put one heel on and she briskly swung open the door. Previously hobbling on one foot, she immediately straightened and sucked in her breath. He was literally breathtaking with his coal-black hair that swept just over his eyebrow and his powder blue eyes that quickly changed from indifferent to an emotion unreadable. Jamie’s eyes roamed from his shadow, up to his eyes and they instinctually bugged out. “Hello there Wes.” Regaining composure, her arm disappeared behind the door and grabbed her purse and she lazily leaned up against the door. If he knew she, aslo, seemed indifferent to this whole night, then maybe she could survive it. Just maybe.

    Wes was about to knock a second time, slightly miffed that he had to wait for her. But right as he raised his fist, the door swung open, revealing the beauty hobbling behind the door. 

    He couldn’t help but ogle her for a moment as he let out a low whistle. Her curves were elegantly outlined by a body-skimming black dress, and she almost came past his chin in her wonderfully sexy heels. And he could barely keep his hands from running through her silky mocha tresses. Looking off to the side, he mentally added that little thing to his Jamie to-do list. That stuff always drives the bitches crazy, he thought to himself.

    Needless to say, Wes liked what he saw, and he was sure as hell gonna say something about it. ”Wow, babydoll. You look hot," he said in a deep voice, an approving smirk plastered across his face. "You ready to go? Your good old chariot awaits," he added, motioning with one hand to the truck that sat parked right outside her door. He looked back to Jamie, a big grin on his face. Regardless of what she thought about the evening now, he was always excited for a new date. And by the end of the night, she’d be all over him. With Wes’s moves, it was inevitable. 

    (Source: wesleysofferenza)

  8. Notes: 10 / 2 years ago  from masculine-fairy (originally from justbeingashley)

    wesleysofferenza and masculine-fairy started following you



    Woohoo! More followers! Hey, boys!

    Err.. Hi?


    (Source: justbeingashley)

  9. Notes: 5 / 2 years ago 

    We Believe in Second Chances [Wes’s date with Miss Jamie D. Clarke]

    It was 8:15, and Wes was still watched the Steelers get creamed, popcorn littering his couch, upon which he laid clad only in his plaid boxers. It wasn’t that he forgot to keep track of time, it was the fact that Wesley had a 6-minute ritual to get ready for any date he happened to have. The routine (which he had done so many times that he had it down to a science) went a bit like this: 

    So it was 8:17, and he finally decided dust the kernels from his lap and grab a black v-neck and jeans on his way to the bathroom. 8:20, and he was fully dressed. 8:21 and he looked, smelled, and felt like his usual charming self. 8:23 (with one final peek at the game), and he was driving away in the bumpy truck of his. Ol’ faithful, he lovingly called it. After all, it was probably the only thing in his life that he showed any commitment too. 

    It didn’t take more than 10 minutes to get to the lovely Jamie’s house, and at 8:33, he was knocking lightly on her door.

    Let the games begin. If only the poor girl knew what she was in for..

  10. 2 years ago 

    Anonymous said: Can I add you on AIM to RP with you?

    I suppose.


The name is Wesley Sofferenza. Call me Wes. But watch your back, fellows. I can be a bit of a loose cannon. Or so said the judge at my hearing. After a court-ordered year-long break and a switch to Dalton, I'm out and ready to wreck havoc once again. Got a problem with that? Take it up with my grandfather. He probably paid for the school bathroom you have to run into so you can cry about how your feelings are hurt.

AIM: wesleysofferenza

Ask. I know you're curious.

(This is a RP blog. I do not own any affiliation with Ian Somerhalder.)
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