Please welcome back Rae, who is returning with Dominant Professor Andrew Barrett!!!!!! WE ARE SO EXCITED AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.
OOC Information:
Name: Rae Rae Rae Pronouns: She/her Age: 20 :) Timezone: GMT Activity Description: We’ll see, but I’d say 7/10 over the Christmas holidays. I have no actual deadlines to demand my attention. I like to complain like I’m the only one who could ever be busy tho, be warned. It’s insufferable, tell me to fuck the fuck off.
IC Information:
Character Name: Andy Barrett Age: 37 FC: Ben Barnes Designation: Dominant, but with some Switch-y behaviours, I’d say Occupation: Professor of English Literature, also Library Coordinator. He and Maureen are a damn good team. Kinks: Power play, TPE, orgasm control/denial, breath play, exhibitionism and voyeurism, sensory play, open to most~ Anti-Kinks: Vore, gore, scat, bestiality, infantilism, non-con, watersports
Biography: (I have not written anything that isn’t academic in a long ass time!)
When Andrew arrived home, to his country of birth, to his parents and their vast estate, with his husband in tow, he was ready to start a new chapter there. For all his years in America, the thought of home, of England, was constantly in the back of his mind. He was sad to have left all of his new-found, startlingly genuine relationships behind, but he was going to be able to rekindle those he’d originally left before. It was like a take two, a second chance.
Andrew realised, rather quickly, that any relationship he had held in England, outside of the familial kind, had fizzled out. More than that, Father Time had dumped a bucket of ice cold water over them. He was a different person, in a Dominant/Dominant relationship with American-English mannerisms and, apparently, a twang in his accent (‘a twang, what does that even mean?’) that separated him rather ruthlessly from the posh twats at his father’s country club. That’s not to say that the posh twats were mean about it— they were just too indifferent. And overdone indifference, with its air of sickening patronisation, was almost worse than the glares he got. For as open as they liked to say they were, marrying a Dominant, for love, coupled with his… twang was a step too far for them all. Andrew Barrett, married to a Dominant, who’d have thought?
With the opening of a similar university in London, Andrew took on a similar role, starting up a writing club within the first couple of weeks. It was only natural that he fell back into writing as he once had. He started with keeping extra descriptive journals, far more so than any he’d kept beforehand, and branched out, writing bullshit, abstract poetry until his own pompous narcissism started to bore even himself. He juggled various genres, attempting science fiction, adventure… the sort of romance that teenagers would swoon over on the school playground. Romance- that was where his name stuck out, thus kick-starting his reputation as the scary English professor who wrote, perhaps ironically, sweet Young Adult fiction. The same teenagers and their siblings, friends, parents somehow, armed with his published works on the university grounds, would giggle as he passed them. The pieces he cared most about, those written under the genre that he cared most about, Gothic Romance, were acknowledged but never had the same astounding success. Eccentric, dark Andrew Barrett, a children’s romance author… who’d have thought?
An out-of-character public reputation, patronisation on every front and a couple of bitchy glares from across a packed restaurant would not stop him from enjoying his time back on English soil, though. He was able to reconnect with his parents all over again, almost forming a new relationship altogether rather than just gently patching up their old one, and he had a beautiful husband to pass in the university halls, spend his lunch break with, make heart eyes at during assemblies (make heart eyes at infinitely, really) and then go home with, go home to. He had his parents and his husband and their school, and then his son and his best friends back home. Back home. Huh. As in, across the pond. But when had America become his home? When had England become the work abroad?
When St. Brendan’s started calling them back to Seabrook, Andrew was initially shocked by how enthusiastic he was about going. He settled into his goodbyes fast. He shared heartfelt hugs with his parents, he firmly shook far too many hands, and started packing up boxes, almost prematurely. He’d use his free periods alphabetising his books and stacking them in boxes, colour coordinating clothing and folding them into his suitcases. He’d stay up all hours to coordinate moving at Eastern Standard Time, even if that meant he went to school the next day with eye bags to rival his actual packing, even if it meant that the essays he loved to give out were marked a day late. He was just excited to go back… which, y’know, who’d have thought?