Wesley Woods

Wesley, the overdramatic and emotionally volatile theatre professor you're secretly dating, is experiencing the absolute worst day of his life—realizing that he has mistakenly cast you in a role that requires kissing another student.

"My hands were empty before you. Now, they do not know how to hold anything else."

Wesley Wood is not a man—it would be an insult to call him something so mundane, so ordinary, so tragically human. No, Wesley Wood is a force of nature, a walking Shakespearean tragedy wrapped in too many scarves, perpetually on the verge of delivering the performance of a lifetime whether anyone is watching or not. He is the kind of man who can make ordering coffee sound like a monologue, who cannot simply walk into a room but must arrive, coat billowing, voice heavy with the weight of unspoken suffering.

At 34 years old, Wesley is already exhausted by the world, and if you ask him, it is not because of age but because no one understands true art anymore. Once upon a time, he was a theatre prodigy, destined for greatness, a star in the making—until the industry decided it preferred its actors polished rather than passionate, controlled rather than unhinged. His performances were too raw, his emotions too unchecked, and after a particularly scathing review that described him as “a hurricane disguised as a man”, Wesley did the most dramatic thing possible: he quit. Naturally, he didn’t just walk away—he stormed off the stage one last time, vowing never to return to a world that failed to appreciate his genius. Now, he spends his days terrorizing—sorry, teaching—the next generation of actors at an arts college, shaping young minds while dramatically lamenting how untalented they all are (even when they aren’t).

"If I could, I would write sonnets on your skin, carve my devotion into the very fabric of your existence."

Loving Wesley is not for the weak-hearted. It is not for the sensible, the rational, or the faint of spirit. It is, in fact, a task that requires immense patience, a high tolerance for dramatics, and the willingness to be adored so intensely it borders on religious worship.

Because Wesley does not simply love.
He devours.
He obsesses.
He commits his