#brighton accommodations

[accommodationguide]

🎓 Stepping off the train in Brighton was chaos and colour! First-year me, a Jewish fresher, was buzzing. I dodged seagulls, chased sunsets, and lived off flat whites. Found my dream pad near London Road thanks to StudentAccommodationGuide.com. Friday Shabbat dinners? Therapy with Kugel. Jewish Society = instant family. From wild beach days to indie café nights, Brighton kept me moving. Rent? £135. Groceries? £45. Budgeting? Creative survival. I even got wrecked at Chess Club and loved every second. Brighton isn’t just a city. It’s a vibe. It embraced my identity and gave me lifelong mates. If you're diving into student life here, StudentAccommodationGuide.com is the first click you need. 💻🍕📚

[benignsublime]

lowkey forgot about pride month because i have a job. im just like that tweet

[qualitystudentaccommodation]

Planning to study in Brighton? Here’s a guide to top programs, costs, and opportunities for international students in Brighton.

[bookmyuniroom]

Find Convenient Accommodation Near the University of Brighton with BookMyUniRoom

Are you gearing up for your academic journey at the University of Brighton and searching for the ideal accommodation nearby? Securing suitable housing is a pivotal aspect of your college experience, impacting your comfort, convenience, and academic success. With BookMyUniRoom, discovering the perfect accommodation near the University of Brighton is a breeze.

The University of Brighton: A Thriving Academic Hub Nestled on the picturesque south coast of England, the University of Brighton is renowned for its dynamic academic programs, supportive community, and vibrant campus life. Whether you're a prospective student or a returning scholar, finding accommodation close to the university is essential for fully immersing yourself in the collegiate experience.

Accommodation Near the University of Brighton: BookMyUniRoom understands the significance of proximity and convenience when it comes to student housing. That's why we offer a diverse range of accommodation options near the University of Brighton, ensuring that students can easily find a place that meets their needs and preferences.

From modern studio apartments to shared flats with ample communal spaces, our listings encompass a variety of housing styles to suit every student's lifestyle and budget. Situated within walking distance or a short commute to the university campus, our accommodations provide students with easy access to academic facilities, local amenities, and transportation hubs.

Why Choose BookMyUniRoom? Choosing BookMyUniRoom for your accommodation needs near the University of Brighton offers numerous advantages:

Extensive Listings: Our platform features a wide array of accommodation options, allowing students to explore various housing styles and amenities.

Convenient Location: Our properties are strategically located near the University of Brighton, ensuring quick and easy access to campus facilities, libraries, and study spaces.

Affordable Rates: We understand the financial constraints faced by students, which is why we offer competitive rental rates and flexible leasing options to accommodate diverse budgets.

Quality Assurance: We prioritize the safety, cleanliness, and comfort of our accommodations, conducting thorough inspections to ensure they meet our stringent standards.

Personalized Support: Our dedicated team is committed to providing personalized assistance and guidance throughout the accommodation search process, ensuring a seamless experience for every student.

Start Your Accommodation Search Today: Don't let the stress of finding accommodation detract from your excitement about beginning your academic journey at the University of Brighton. With BookMyUniRoom, you can easily discover the perfect accommodation that complements your college experience. Begin your search today and embark on your collegiate adventure with confidence!

[coliverentalhomes]

Colive Brighton Reviews - Choleshwar Bediya reviews Colive Brighton Bangalore

Colive Reviews

Colive Brighton Bangalore review by Happy Customer (Coliver) - Choleshwar Bediya

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

The Golden Ratio - Part One

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Derogatory language, angst, mentions of parental death, mentions of infidelity. Word count: ~4.5k

Chapter summary: Her relationship strains under the pressure of long distance, though she has her classmate, Michael, to help distract from the worst of it.

Author's note: No tag list. Please follow @ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

She is sweaty and exasperated as she drags her suitcase over the cobbles of Holywell Street. One of the already precariously wonky wheels had finally given up the ghost and broken off as she’d dragged it up the stairs of Oxford train station, making the fifteen minute walk to her accommodation more tiring than it needed to be.

But she was here, finally. Oxford University.

Her dad had sold the car to make sure she had money to live on until her student loan and maintenance grant had been paid to her. He didn’t want her taking a part time job to make ends meet, she’d worked hard to earn her place here, her focus should be on her studies. Coming from a low income family meant she had qualified for the maximum amount for both maintenance loan and grant, but her first set of application forms had been misplaced by Student Finance, so she’d had to send in a second set, meaning there would be a delay with her first payment.

An unfortunate consequence of her dad not having a car is that she’d had to get the train to London Victoria, a tube to Paddington, then another train to Oxford. But it is not the fact that she is seemingly the only student whose parents aren’t obstructing the pavements with their cars in order to drop them off that makes her feel like an outcast, there is something deeper, more sinister feeling.

She sees it as she struggles to get her bag across the lawn of the Halls, people grouped in little clusters, as though they’ve been friends forever. They dress in Juicy Couture velour tracksuit bottoms and brand name Ugg Boots, while she wears her mum’s old Dr. Martens and a tartan skirt she’d bought in a charity shop for one pound fifty. She doesn’t fit in. She feels she may as well wear the word “poor” across her forehead like a scarlet letter.

Having checked in at the Porters’ Lodge and been given directions to the accommodation, it’s lonely as she unpacks her things, her room feeling empty and quiet. The only sounds are muffled talking and laughter coming through the closed window from outside. She feels lonelier still when she pulls out the framed photo of her and Rich. They’re both smiling, his arms wrapped around her waist as she leans her head against his. It had felt like their relationship would last forever when that picture was taken. That seemed like much less of a possibility over the last couple of weeks.

She had met Rich at the beginning of sixth form. Having attended Chatham Grammar School for Girls, she had decided to stay on there to do her A levels. The mathematics department was decent, and she had heard Russell Group universities were more likely to consider applications that came from grammar schools. Rich had transferred over from Robert Napier School. Where she was shy, quiet and reserved, he was lively, outgoing and sociable. His zest for life had shone a bright light on an existence that was, for her, otherwise dull and grey.

They were an unlikely pairing. She was logical, analytical and studied maths and physics. Rich was creative, free spirited and guided by emotion. He studied art and music. They had been together for two years and she had thought he was the one. But then it came time for UCAS applications, and where she had applied to Oxford, Cambridge and York, Rich had applied to Leeds, Brighton and Glasgow. It seemed that no matter where they were accepted, they were destined to be apart.

When she had received an unconditional offer from Oxford she had been elated, however, the crushing devastation upon hearing Rich had been accepted into The Glasgow School of Art with a conditional offer had quickly dulled her excitement.

She had never felt like an outsider or a loner when she was with Rich. Basking in his sunny disposition had felt effortless, she never felt alone. He was going to take all of that away, and she was unsure of how to cope with it.

“We’ll make it work long distance, don’t worry,” he’d told her, and she’d believed him.

But then he had actually gone to Glasgow. Fresher’s week in Glasgow started a week earlier than it did in Oxford, so Rich had moved away first. It didn’t take long for the texts and phone calls to dry up into nothing. She had heard from him once in the last few days.

She sighs as she slides up the screen of her beaten up Nokia. Still nothing. She had text to let him know she was leaving for Oxford today and he couldn’t even be bothered to reply. She knows it’s his first week at university and he’s likely busy and having fun, but how was long distance going to work if they never actually spoke to each other?

Despite the loftiness of the dining hall, it feels stuffy as she moves through it later that evening, taking a seat at a long table crowded with other students. She had hoped that the Fresher’s welcome dinner would be an opportunity to make friends, but everyone seems to be deep in conversation already. The chatter hums loudly like white noise, until it comes to a sudden stop.

“FUCKIN’ ASK ME A SUM THEN!”

She turns, mouth agape, to look at the pair of boys sitting a few places up from her. One is darked haired and seems nervous and uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly in his seat. The other is blonde, an angry, intense expression on his face, shadows cast across it from the lamplight on the table, as he stares in wide eyed anticipation. It was him who had shouted, clearly.

“Four hundred and twenty three times seventy eight,” the dark haired boy asks quietly.

Instantly his friend replies, without missing a beat, “thirty two thousand, nine hundred and ninety four.”

Involuntarily her eyes widen in surprise. She sits there and does the calculation in her head, though much more slowly than he had. 

Carry the two, eight times two is sixteen, plus two is eighteen, carry the one…he’s right. How is it possible that he came to that answer so quickly?

When her gaze lifts he is looking at her, observing her doing the working out in her head. He holds her stare, a smirk curving the corners of his mouth. He knows she knows he is right, and it’s clear he feels smug about it.

Quickly looking away, she reaches for her water glass, wanting something, anything, to distract her. There was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel uneasy.

God, I hope I don’t have any classes with him.

She holds her timetable for the week in her hands as she moves her way through the corridors towards the lecture hall the following morning. The first week looks to be fairly light touch, with an introductory lecture for each of the courses; algebra, analysis, probability and statistics, geometry, dynamics and multivariable calculus. Today is the introduction to analysis, and she is excited to study under the tutelage of Professor Helen Byrne. Her research focuses on the development and analysis of mathematical and computational models that describe biomedical systems, with particular application to the growth and treatment of solid tumours, wound healing and tissue engineering. Professor Byrne is someone she has admired within the field for as long as she can remember, and she is very much looking forward to her tutorials with her.

Her excitement fades when she enters the lecture hall and immediately sees the angry guy from the previous evening.

Just my luck.

The only available seat is next to him, so she sits down, dropping her bag to the floor by her feet.

A hand extends out towards her in her peripheral vision, taking her by surprise and she turns in her seat towards it, shrinking back slightly. 

He seems utterly unperturbed by her reaction, keeping his arm extended. “I’m Michael Gavey.”

She blinks, regaining her composure as she leans forward, shaking his hand and introducing herself in return. His palm is clammy against her own, and she can still feel it there even after having let go and wiped her hand on her jeans.

“I saw you last night,” he says matter of factly, pulling his arm back and resting his elbow on the desk in front of him.

“Oh, yeah,” she says with a tight smile, nodding, “so you and your mate…is that like a party trick or something?”

“No, no party trick,” he says with a demure smile. “I’m a genius.”

She forces herself to laugh politely, assuming he’s making a joke, but she stops, her brow furrowing slightly when she sees he doesn’t share in the humour. He’s being serious.

Opening her mouth to ask a follow up question, she’s interrupted as Professor Byrne sweeps into the room. Her and Michael both face forward in their seats as she introduces herself to the class.

Over the next hour they are given an introduction to the course and what to expect in their first year, including an overview of the papers they will need to write and examinations that will be sat. She pays rapt attention, scribbling furious notes, until the lecture begins to wrap up.

“As it’s the first week, I will go easy on assignment setting,” Professor Byrne tells them all, “but there will be an assignment nonetheless.”

A loud, collective groan echoes around the lecture hall. Her and Michael are the only two not to join in.

“Now, now, settle down,” she chastises, “it’ll be fun. I’m sure you’re all aware of the Fibonacci Sequence, a series of numbers where each number is the sum of the two preceding numbers. Mathematically we can describe this as–”

She turns and scrawls xn= xn-1 + xn-2 on the chalkboard, before facing the students again.

“--I’d like you all to find an example of the Fibonacci Sequence in real life and present it back to the class during next week’s lecture. You’re to work in pairs, so buddy up, and see you all next week.”

Professor Byrne places the chalk back on the desk before striding back out of the lecture hall. The room is instantly a buzz with chatter, as people move between seats to find a partner.

She stays rooted in place, suddenly wishing Rich was here. It’s in moments like these that he flourishes, allowing her to take a backseat as he effortlessly navigates them through social interactions. Instead, she is alone and the space around her feels bigger and scarier with every moment that passes.

It’s only when she turns her head that she notices Michael has yet to move too. Gathering all the courage she can muster, she clears her throat and speaks to him.

“So…er…did you wanna partner up for this thing then?”

“I don’t like to work with others,” he says matter of factly, keeping his gaze fixed ahead.

“I’m not exactly thrilled about it either,” she says with a sigh, “but for this assignment we have to.”

“You’ve picked me because I’m a genius. You’ll expect me to do all the work while you get pissed with your mates.”

He fixes her with an accusatory stare, and she feels the heat of anger prickle her skin.

“Haven’t got any mates,” she mutters darkly.

He observes her for a few moments, elbow propped on the desk, jaw resting against his fist, and she fidgets self consciously in her seat. No wonder the other boy from last night had looked so uncomfortable. It feels like he’s studying her.

“Let’s go to the library,” he says simply, standing and picking up his bag.

“So, you’re a genius?” She asks, opening her notebook once they’re seated opposite each other at a table in the library, nervously tapping her pencil against the page.

“Hmm,” Michael nods, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger, “I don’t even like maths, really. I can just…do it. Anything. In my head.”

She’s struck by how blunt he is, sucking in a breath as she considers what to say next. There is something so disarming about him, she gets the sense he’s analysing her every word and action.

“Right,” she begins, “so, er, for this assignment I was thinking about how Leonardo Fibonacci used rabbits to prove his theory. One hundred and forty four pairs of rabbits can be produced from a single pair of rabbits in a year, based on the sequence.”

“That’s fucking stupid,” Michael replies with a sigh.

“What?” She asks irritably, annoyed by his dismissal.

“What are you expecting us to do, go to a pet shop and buy rabbits? We’ve only got a week to do the assignment, we need to be more practical.”

She rolls her eyes. “I was using that as an example, not saying we do that exactly! Come on then, genius, what’s your suggestion?”

“Spirals,” he says with a slight shrug. He leans across, placing the tips of his fingers on her notebook and sliding it towards himself, before picking up her pencil. “There is a special relationship between the Fibonacci numbers and the Golden Ratio, a ration that describes when a line is divided into two parts and the longer part - A - divided by the smaller part - B - is equal to the sum of A + B divided by A, which both equal one point six one eight. This is represented by the Greek letter,” he stops to scribble a φ on the pad. “The ratio of any two successive Fibonacci Numbers approximates the Golden Ratio value.” He stops again, scrawling 1.6180339887 on the page. The bigger the pair of Fibonacci numbers, the closer the approximation. From there, we can calculate what's called the golden spiral, or a logarithmic spiral whose growth factor equals the golden ratio.”

She is stunned into a silence for a moment, a combination of his audacity to simply take her belongings, and awe at the rapidity with which his mind works. Collecting herself, she blinks a few times, looking up into his eyes.

They’re so blue.

“So…er…how do you propose we present this data back to the class?”

“A simple table is sufficient, look–”

His hand moves rapidly over the page, a complete table there on the paper when he drops the pencil into the gutter of the notebook and sits back in his chair.

“We present that,” he tells her, his eyes fixed on the page. “Using the values of the sequence as the edge length of squares arranged in the table, a spiral is generated.”

She leans over, sliding the notebook back to her side of the table, marvelling silently at his work. He is fascinating to watch. He’s right, he can just do maths.

“It’s good,” she says, eye flitting up to meet his, “solid. But it’s fucking boring.”

This time it’s his turn to be annoyed. “What?” He asks, eyes narrowing.

“Everyone is going to present something like this, because it’s easy,” she explains, “Don’t you want to stand out to Professor Byrne? We should do something outside of the box.”

“Hmm. Go on then, what are you thinking?” He rests his cheek against his fist, leaning against the table as he stares at her.

She feels herself grow warm under his scrutiny.

Does he always have to be so bloody intense?

“There are loads of examples of Fibonacci numbers appearing in nature. We could look for some? Flowers, perhaps.”

“I’ve got hayfever,” Michael states simply.

She sighs.

Of course you do.

“Then we’ll get you some Piriton! Come on, there are studies that show seed heads, pinecones, fruits and vegetables all displaying spiral patterns that when counted express Fibonacci numbers. This fits perfectly with the brief of the assignment and will leave a lasting impression.”

He moves his hand away from his face, resting his arm flat on the table and quietly drumming his fingers against it for a few moments. “Alright then,” he finally concedes.

“Great,” she grins excitedly, tearing out a page from her notebook and writing on it hurriedly. “Here’s my number, so we can meet up to work on it, and also my Hotmail address, in case MSN works better for you.”

He huffs through his nose as he takes the paper from her, a soft laugh escaping him. “The countess at hotmail dot co dot uk,” he reads with amusement, “very droll.”

“Shut up,” she grins back, “I made that in secondary school. Thought it was funny.”

Back in her room that evening, she’s excited to see she has a text from Rich, finally.

Hope ur enjoying it. Having so much fun here!

She sighs, throwing her phone down on the bed side table. No kisses, not even an “I love you”. 

Watching out of the window, she sees the giggling groups of students making their way out into town, readying themselves to spend the night drinking, making friends and having fun. Just like Rich is doing, not giving her a second thought, while she stays cooped up in her room without a friend in the world.

Suspicion nags at her, so she turns on her laptop, loading up MySpace. Rich takes number one place on her top eight friends, and she clicks on his profile. It looks much the same as it always does, but she decides to snoop further, clicking into his friends list. She can see he has recently friended a girl named Sophie.

Sophie is pretty, bright pink streaks in her hair, and a nose ring. Exactly Rich’s type. Her most recently uploaded photos are of groups of people, clearly all taken during Fresher’s week. A pit forms in her stomach as she sees that in almost all of them Sophie and Rich have their arms around each other. Worse still, Rich occupies space eight in Sophie’s top friends.

She closes the browser, blinking back tears. Surely, she is just being paranoid. They’re just friends. Friends have photos together, and it was normal that he would make new ones when he went away to uni.

Opening MSN Messenger, she hovers over Rich’s username. Unsurprisingly, he’s offline, he always is these days. She smiles when an add request from mgavey628318@hotmail.co.uk pops up. Of course he’d have Tau, the mathematical constant, in his Hotmail address. She clicks accept and he immediately appears in her online contacts. Looks like he isn’t out tonight either.

Double clicking his username, she chuckles to herself upon seeing his display picture is of Pythagoras. Such a dweeb.

“Want to work on our assignment tomorrow?” She types to him.

Barely a few seconds pass before she sees him typing back. “Yes. When?”

“We could meet at the Water Meadow at lunch time?”

“See you then.”

Straight to the point, no idle chit chat. She shakes her head and closes the messenger window, though finds herself strangely excited by the thought of seeing him tomorrow. She reasons that it’s because Michael is the closest thing she has had to a friend since arriving at Oxford.

She visits the nearby Tesco Express the following day, buying a meal deal for each of them and a packet of hayfever tablets for Michael. She has no idea of what Michael even likes, so plays it safe by buying a bottle of Oasis, a Crunchie bar and a ham and cheese sandwich for them both.

At precisely noon, Michael stands at the entrance to the Water Meadow waiting for her. She smiles as she looks at his t-shirt; maroon with a diagram of a circle on a gradient with a downwards acceleration of 9.81 meters per second, with the slogan “that’s how I roll”. A mechanics pun.

“Like your shirt,” she says as she approaches him.

He grins. “Thought you might, considering your email address.”

She averts her gaze. There is something about the fact that he’d thought of her when he’d chosen what to wear today that makes her tummy flutter.

Stop it. You’ve got Rich. Michael’s weird!

“I got you some hayfever tablets,” she tells him as they start to walk along the pathway that’s flanked by green space on either side. “Do you wanna have lunch first and then start looking for flowers?”

They settle, cross legged on the grass, Michael already having taken one of the tablets, chased with half a bottle of Oasis, and she spreads out the food between them.

She watches in fascination as his eyes widen at the sight of the Crunchie bars, snatching one up and tearing off the wrapper. Her mouth falls open slightly as she sees him hold it sideways, biting into it from the side, before devouring each of the pieces it inevitably breaks into.

“You like Crunchie bars then?” She asks, a little grossed out, but curious nonetheless.

He swallows, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Mother didn’t allow me to have sweets growing up, bad for your teeth, she said.”

She nods, a feeling over pity replacing the disgust that had roiled her stomach just seconds ago.

“So, is it your mum that pushed you into studying maths?” She asks, fiddling with the lid of her drink bottle.

“Sort of,” he says. “Mother never married, but she wanted a child. She used a sperm donor - a physicist, apparently - and was artificially inseminated to have me. She was thrilled when I showed a natural aptitude for maths, and has always encouraged me. It’s why I do it, why I accepted the scholarship, to make her proud. She’s been through so much to have me, it’s the least I owe her.”

Her face falls, a feeling of sadness overwhelming her, making her heart ache for Michael. There is something so tragic about the fact that he has lived his entire life adhering to the expectations of the person who had created him for their own selfish want of a child.

“What about you then?” He asks. “The bank of mummy and daddy paying for you to be here?”

She shakes her head. “I earned my place, just like you did, with straight As, though I don’t have a scholarship. Have had to take out loans to cover the cost. It’s just me and dad since mum passed away.”

“Oh,” Michael says, blinking rapidly, obviously surprised. “Apologies, I’d assumed a pretty girl like you would be the same as the rest of the vapid cunts studying here, if you can call it studying.”

She hums in acknowledgement, considering his words, turning her own Crunchie bar around in her fingers, focusing on the way the foil wrapper slides against her skin. His compliment makes her heart beat more rapidly, even if it is backhanded. “Like I said yesterday, I’ve got no mates. It was always Rich that was better at that sort of thing.”

“Rich?” Michael asks curiously, cocking his head.

“My boyfriend. He’s at uni in Glasgow.”

“Three hundred and sixty two point nine miles,” Michael states simply.

“Pardon?”

“That’s the distance between Oxford and Glasgow,” he explains, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “How are you planning to make a relationship work with that sort of distance?”

“We’re doing long distance,” she argues, feeling herself growing defensive, scowling at him.

“Yeah, I bet that’s gonna work out great,” he scoffs, eyes widening, clearly mocking her.

“The Glasgow School of Art was the best choice for Rich to study what he wants to,” she retorts.

A grin spreads across his face. “Art?! I suppose you should be grateful he’s hundreds of miles away then, he sounds like a moron.”

She huffs, hurriedly shoving her things back into her bag. “Let’s just look for these fucking flowers and get this over with.”

The pair work for the rest of the afternoon in silence, the atmosphere is tense and angry, but they are productive nevertheless, settling on a patch of sunflowers to use for the assignment.

They look at the spirals of seeds in the center of the sunflowers and observe patterns curving left and right. Counting these spirals, their total is a Fibonacci number. They then divide the spirals into those pointed left and right to get two consecutive Fibonacci numbers.

Cutting down a couple of sunflower heads to use as examples, Michael also makes a diagram in his notes for them to present with their findings.

She feels satisfied by the time they part ways, but an uneasy feeling has settled over her that has dread gnawing into her gut as she thinks about Michael’s criticism of her and Rich’s long distance relationship.

Unsurprised to see she has no missed calls or texts from him when she goes back to her room, she opens up her laptop and logs back onto MySpace. This time when she looks at Rich’s profile her blood runs cold as she sees that Sophie now occupies space number three in his top friends. He’d had time to log on and change the position of a girl he’d met a couple of weeks ago, but couldn’t be bothered to send her a single message?

Before she can stop herself, she’s pulling out her phone and calling his number. She doesn’t care if this wastes all of her credit, she needs answers.

It rings for ages, and she anticipates being sent to voicemail, until he eventually answers, sounding breathless and distracted.

“H-hello?”

“Rich, it’s me,” she says quietly.

There’s a pause before he answers. “Oh…how’s my little nerd? Everything okay?”

She ignores the familiarity, keeping her tone neutral. “I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me.”

Not giving him an opportunity to respond, she pushes on. “Has something happened between you and this Sophie girl I’ve seen you on Myspace with?”

Another pause, except this time she hears him inhale a deep breath. “I was going to tell you when we came home for Christmas break. It felt wrong to break up with you over the phone.”

It feels as though the bottom of her world has been ripped away, her heart twisting painfully as her vision blurs with tears. She swallows thickly, anger bubbling alongside her devastation, so that her tone is venomous when she replies “So, you were just gonna keep stringing me along for two months, so you could look like a good guy?!”

“Babe, no, I didn’t mean for this to happen, I just–”

“You’re a piece of shit,” she cuts him off, “fuck you!”

She hangs up, chucking her phone down onto the bed, and immediately bursts into tears, holding her head in her hands as hot tears stream down her face, her shoulders shaking as her nose grows snotty.

Two years. Two fucking years and he’d chucked it all away for someone he’d known for two weeks.

She walks towards the sink in her room, looking into the mirror and sighing at her reflection. Her eyes are red and puffy, she looks a mess. Splashing cold water onto her face to rid herself of the worst of it, she then flops down onto her bed, opening her laptop.

Immediately she is met with her MSN chat window with Michael from the previous evening. He’s online.

Without thinking, she types out a message to him.

“Do you have any alcohol?”

Within seconds he’s typing a response.

“Would you like me to have alcohol?”

Chapter two || Series masterlist

[80linesofvirgil]

We're fundraising for two queer plays!

Donate Here

Two Come Home is my first produced play in ten years. I wrote it over a period of four years and composed the score in a whirlwind over the last few months. I wanted to explore what happens when teenage lovers reconnect in adulthood, with all the baggage and trauma of a decade apart. Most of all I wanted to write characters with the courage to break out of the relative comfort of solitude in order to reach for happiness. website instagram

Our sister show, which I've done the poster and composed the score for (and play a few lil roles) is a hilarious and moving comedy about the initial stages of coming out as trans and the hurdles that can be discovered among family, friends, dating, and work. instagram

We're taking both plays to Brighton Fringe this year and hopefully more UK Fringes if our applications our successful. Our biggest costs are accommodation, registration fees, and food. Both productions are equal profit shares. We don't have any arts funding so we're running a crowd funder with the help of Essex University. Anything you can donate is greatly appreciated. x

[fayewoodss]

the dream team have always seemed a little resistant to labels (maybe minus Sapnap) so I wouldn't be surprised if George didn't know/was reluctant to get formally tested for autism.

as you know, getting any diagnosis is nerve-wracking, but especially because if someone said "no" then he would have to live with the answer that he's "just like that" and he's completely "normal" and just lacks self control and self-awareness

for better or worse, I think they prefer seeing themselves holistically instead of a collection of neat labelled boxes, especially after years of people online basically using these labels to explain away their own bad behavior (the neurodivergent & a minor type response to criticism).

so no, I don't think George knows one way or the other. please infodump your own thoughts, we know not to take it as anything other than lighthearted!!

Oh, absolutely, I really love the points you bring up. Personally, I don't really view diagnoses as "boxes" or "labels." Not that it's wrong to see it that way because the way the internet is definitely paints the picture of labels, boxes, groups, etc. So, socially I can understand why they might not want to pursue or declare anything. However, with Dream being open about his neurodivergency and how it is both a part of him but not entirely him shows how he claims the "label" while still viewing himself holistically.

On the general topic of diagnosis, Dream and George are both people that have expressed wanting to know "why" about the things that interest, confuse, or upset them or others, and so if George were to pursue diagnosis for any reason, I think it would be because of that. Which I think goes beyond "label." Knowing "why" leads to getting understanding which leads to treatment, accommodations, and overall content with life and persona, and seeing how he's expressed struggle and discontent multiple times throughout his online life and career, it's likely been something that has crossed his mind or that he may have confronted directly. (Or maybe was there the whole time since we're speculating. Might as well cover multiple possibilities.)

George wouldn't be the kind to share that with us, but he does mention not knowing why he functions in certain ways quite a bit, especially when it's pointed out directly to him. Yet when he does talk about it, there's always something about the way he says it that seems to flood with curiosity and wanting to know. I also think it's important to note that there have been many times where his "strangeness" was pointed out directly to him by the Brighton group, but he has never responded openly to them, rather reacting awkwardly and usually doing or saying something to derail the topic and distract his former friends. This is one of those things that could play into the idea that maybe he is already diagnosed because he can be more open yet vague with an audience, but with a direct relationship he's far more closed off and won't address it at all, especially on camera (unless it's Dream, which shows the trust, privacy, and vulnerability).

Obviously, take all of that with a grain of salt, but it's just my personal observation and perception of his patterns.

[britishmonarchy]

The Pavilion Breakfast Room at Buckingham Palace

Artist: James Roberts (English, 1753–ca.1809)

Date: 1850

Medium: Watercolour

Collection: Royal Collection Trust, London, United Kingdom

Description

Queen Victoria (1819–1901) rarely used the Royal Pavilion, Brighton, which George IV (1762–1830) had so lavishly decorated in the Chinese and Japanese style. On her first visit, in 1837, she remarked that it was 'a strange, odd, Chinese looking place, both outside and inside'. By 1850 she had transferred much of the Pavilion's contents to Buckingham Palace, where a new East Front had been created to accommodate her growing family. This watercolour shows the Pavilion Breakfast Room, now called the Chinese Dining Room. Four Chinese porcelain vases, a painted glass lily chandelier and a spectacular marble chimneypiece were taken from the Music Room at Brighton to furnish this room. Outside, in the Principal Corridor, stood the huge porcelain pagodas commissioned by George IV.

[accommodationguide]

Brighton is a vibrant city, but student accommodation in Brighton often comes with hidden challenges. Many assume that living close to campus ensures convenience, but steep hills and unreliable buses can complicate commutes. Older homes lack insulation, increasing heating bills, while hidden costs like broadband and water raise expenses. Top student rentals go early—most are taken by January. Shared homes can lead to disputes over bills and cleaning, so clear expectations are essential. International students may face higher deposits or guarantor requirements. Damp and mould are common due to the coastal climate, and competition for housing includes remote workers and professionals. Areas like Bevendean and Moulsecoomb offer better value and community. Always check safety certificates and tenancy agreements. For expert guidance, international student support, and a smoother renting process, visit: studentaccommodationguide.com. Make smarter decisions and enjoy your student life in Brighton with confidence.

[repulsiveliquidation]

Random and maybe insensitive to ask, but what players do you think are neurodivergents? I’ve noticed a few contenders who have similar traits to me (I’m autistic by the way).

Not insensitive at all! I'm not going to lie to you but i am unfamiliar with neurodivergents and autistic people because i haven't really interacted with that many in real life but i have had friends who were diagnosed with ADHD and dyslexia in school who have thrived despite often being demeaned because Asians can sometimes view you as 'defective' for lack of a better term.

i do know that Saf Middleton on the Man Utd Women's team is autistic I believe and the club does make accommodations for her which i think is cool! She is allowed to wear sunnies when the lights are too bright and her uniform is baggier than most! She does Lego's while on team trips and she was just on loan at Brighton i think and they did make sure she was well taken care of!

[bookmyuniroom]

Book student accommodation in Brighton with Bookmyuniroom. Get the best & cheapest nearby university and top location Private rented room and Student homestay apartment.

https://bookmyuniroom.com/property/location/brighton

[coliverentalhomes]

Colive Reviews - Colive Brighton Bangalore review by Happy Customer (Coliver) - Sujeet Kumar

Colive Reviews

Colive Brighton Bangalore review by Happy Customer (Coliver) - Sujeet Kumar

[scotianostra]

November 26th 1908 saw the birth of Charles Carmine Forte in Casalattico, Italy.

Baron Forte, as he was to become, worked in his relatives Italian cafe in the High Street, on his arrival in Scotland from Italy. He expanded a tiny London milk bar (snack bar), which he opened in 1934, into Trusthouse Forte PLC, a vast international enterprise that included highway service centres, restaurants, airport caterers, breweries, wine merchants, and a string of accommodations that ranged from the moderate-priced Travelodge motel chain to such luxury hotels as London’s Waldorf and Grosvenor House.

And what is all this got to with Scotland? Forte settled in Scotland at the age of four, where his father Rocco set up a cafe, he also worked at his Uncle Alfonso’s shop in my home town of Loanhed, although some sources say it was Rocco, his father who owned the shop, the Forte website says it was Alfonso.

There are Italian-Scots, all over Scotland, the Fortes had businesses in Stirling, Kelso, Biggar, Galashiels, Girvan, Broxburn, Jedburgh, Dunbar, Greenock, Dalkeith, Alloa and loads more places besides.

After his father bought a small hotel in Alloa young Charles attended Alloa Academy and then St. Joseph's College, Dumfries, he was then sent to Rome for two years before re-joining his family. He was 18 when he entered the family business, running a restaurant. The business progressed through a series of seaside resorts.

When he was 21, Forte was put in charge of a rundown cafe, the Venetian Lounge in Brighton. Within 12 months he had turned it into a profit-making outlet.

However, he had set his sights on London. With just £400, loans of £2000 from his family and a further £2000 bank loan, he bought a milk bar in Upper Regent Street. A concept he imported from America, it was a place where young people could socialise while lingering over non-alcoholic drinks and listening to the latest records.

The Strand Milk Bar Ltd. milk bar was the stepping stone Forte needed. In later years the café became the Four Seasons Restaurant and it was one site he would never sell.

By the time war broke out in 1939, Forte owned nine establishments in the centre of the capital and was known as Mr Piccadilly. He was interned on the Isle of Man, but after three months he was released to become an adviser to the Ministry of Food.

After the war he bought top London restaurants and hotels such as the Cafe Royal and Waldorf. In 1955 his company was awarded the first catering concession at Heathrow Airport. When the UK's first motorway opened in 1959, he began building a chain of 23 roadside catering areas.

His empire eventually had more than 800 hotels, in cities such as Paris, Geneva, Madrid and London, and a similar number of food outlets. In Britain alone he employed about 70,000 people.

When knighted in 1970 Lord Forte, who was five feet four inches in height, dubbed himself "the shortest knight of the year". He was also a Knight of the Grand Cross of the Italian Republic and was presented with a Papal Medal by Pope Pius XII. He received a medal from the French for what his firm had done at its Paris hotels, the George V, the Plaza Athenee and Tremoille, and the Spanish gave him a medal for his work at the Ritz in Madrid. In 1992, aged 83, he gave up the company to his son Rocco, who had succeeded him as chief executive in 1983.Forte ascribed his success to hard work and healthy living. He said work should be serious but fun, and satisfaction rather than profit was his main motivation.

Charles Forte passed away on February 28th, 2007 aged 98, he had already passed full control to his son Rocco in 1993, but soon the plc was faced with a hostile takeover bid from Granada. Ultimately, Granada succeeded with a £3.9 billion tender offer in January 1996, which left the family with about £350 million in cash, not bad for starting in a wee shop in a Scottish toon.

Rocco immediately went back into the hotel business and now has 14 hotels located in European cities, as well as beach resorts in Sicily and Apulia, and recent openings in Saudi Arabia and China. The most famous of his hotels in Scotland is The Balmoral at number one Princes Street Edinburgh.

Pics of of some of the Forte businesses can be found here https://www.fortefamilyhistory.com/Gallery/In_Business/index.html

[stepseduworld]

Studying in the UK Dream: Decoding Costs, Scholarships, and Student Life

Are you considering the thrilling prospect of Studying in the UK? If so, buckle up for a journey that promises to enrich not only your academic prowess but also your personal growth. The UK beckons with its flexible academic structure, global recognition, and a vibrant student community hailing from every corner of the globe. Imagine a dynamic environment where you can share your unique background while exploring fresh perspectives and ideas. In essence, studying in the UK isn't just about boosting your resume; it's about nurturing your growth as a well-rounded individual.

Decoding Tuition Fees: Affordable Options and Top-Tier Dreams

Now, let's delve into the nitty-gritty of tuition fees. For those seeking affordable options, consider universities like the University of Brighton (£14,770), Nottingham Trent University (£15,300), City University of London (£16,750), and Queen Mary University of London (£16,750). Dreaming of the academic giants? The University of Cambridge (£21,411 – £29,769), University of Oxford (£9,391 – £30,540), Warwick University (£24,630), University College London (UCL) (£17,710 – £24,610), Imperial College, London (£27,750 – £29,750), University of York (£33,016), and Loughborough University (£25,500) await. It's not just education; it's an investment in your future.

Scholarship Safari: Funding Your Academic Odyssey

Worried about the financial crunch? Fear not! The UK generously offers a plethora of scholarships from government bodies, universities, independent organizations, and charitable foundations. While master's programs often have more opportunities, exceptional undergraduates can still find their golden ticket. Dive into the official websites of your chosen university and explore scholarships in your home country. Think British Chevening Scholarships, Commonwealth Scholarships, Commonwealth Shared Scholarship Scheme at UK Universities, and Marshall Scholarships. Keep an eye on university-specific scholarships from Cambridge, Warwick, Bristol, York, and Loughborough—competitive but oh-so-rewarding.

Cracking the Code: Cost of Living in the UK

Let's talk numbers – the cost of living in the UK is a crucial puzzle piece in your academic adventure. From accommodation to food and transportation, your budget needs to stretch. London, the crown jewel, is the most expensive, but don't worry; we've got figures. According to UKCISA, international students can expect to spend an average of £12,180 per year on living expenses. Dining out? It might pinch your wallet with an average meal at a mid-range restaurant setting you back around £15. But fear not, savvy students, cooking at home is your budget-friendly ally.

Embark on your UK study adventure, armed with knowledge, scholarships, and a keen eye on your budget. Your academic odyssey awaits!

[yourfuneraldirector]

Sydney Memorial Cremations

Sydney memorial cremations are a popular choice for end of life arrangements, offering families an alternative to traditional burial. The process of cremation involves several steps, but is a simple and respectful way to honour your loved ones.

Sydney families have been finding unique ways to commemorate their loved ones this year. Sunset gatherings at Brighton-le-Sands and morning ceremonies at Auburn Botanic Gardens have become popular options for many.

Urns

After the cremation process, the ashes are returned to the family in an urn. This container can serve as a permanent memorial, or families may choose to scatter the ashes at locations of special significance. Urns are available in a wide range of styles, including wood, ceramic, metal, and biodegradable options.

Urns made of bronze, stainless steel, or hardwood offer durability and a sleek appearance that is well-suited for personal engraving. Standard designs and verses are offered for a variety of occasions, or you may choose to create your own unique inscription. Many urns also come with a lid that is threaded for secure closure.

Jewellery

Cremation jewellery is a popular way to keep a small portion of your loved one's ashes with you at all times. The small urns used for this purpose are incorporated into necklaces, bracelets and rings. These urns come in different designs and materials, such as gold or stainless steel. Some urns can even accommodate the remains of more than one family member.

Scattering ashes is a popular option in Sydney, especially along the city's coastlines and parks. However, you'll need to get permission from the landowner to do so. Fortunately, there are several charter companies that offer ash scattering services.

Other ways to commemorate a loved one include burying the urn at a cemetery or placing it in a niche wall at a crematorium garden bed or columbarium. Alternatively, you can choose to have your loved one's ashes incorporated into beautiful glass pieces. Victoria-based company Memorial Glass offers some stunning options for this.

Art

A growing number of families are choosing cremation in Sydney. This allows them to create a more personalised funeral and celebration of life. It can also be a more affordable option for those who need it.

After a viewing or service, the body is transferred to the crematorium for cremation. The cremation process reduces the body to brittle ashes, which are then returned to the family in an urn of their choice. Some families choose to scatter the ashes or preserve them in a memorial plaque or home decor item.

Others plant trees using biodegradable urns that combine the ashes with soil and seeds. This eco-friendly tribute can be a beautiful addition to any garden or park. Some artists create paintings or sculptures that incorporate a loved one’s ashes, serving as a permanent reminder.

Trees

In NSW, it is possible to scatter ashes at sea or other bodies of water, but you should always seek permission from the owner of any private property. You may also need a permit for public places.

Traditional caskets use materials that are harmful to the environment, but many families are now choosing eco and green options. These include biodegradable urns and shrouds, and a variety of natural burial grounds.

Some of these are dedicated memorial forests, like Mornington Green Legacy Gardens and Wellington Dam Living Legacy Forests. They are legally protected, with governance and agreements in place to ensure that the trees will be cared for for generations. Other services involve planting a tree in a friend or family member’s name with an organisation like Trees For Life.

Memorial Services

A funeral director will collect the deceased from the place of death and transfer them to their care, handle all government paperwork including death certificates, arrange a funeral ceremony, and organise memorial services. They will also take care of transportation fees, floral arrangements, funeral vehicles, and publish death notices in newspapers.

The average funeral cremation cost in Sydney is around $4,000, but it depends on the casket and other services you choose. However, funeral homes will provide you with a comprehensive price list that clearly outlines what’s included in each package.

Whether you prefer a big traditional funeral or a bespoke memorial funeral, there are options to suit everyone’s budget. Newer, more modern funeral businesses have emerged that focus on a range of services like memorials, natural burials and alternative funerals.