#Brighton University in UK

[barely-coherent-anarchist]

solidarity to our comrades over at the University of Sussex, who have set up an encampment in library square ✊️🇵🇸

(demands of the encampment in the insta post below)

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A post shared by Sussex Liberation Encampment (@sussex.encampment)

[kanchelsis]

⚠️ ATTENTION UK COMRADES ⚠️

never in my life did i think i would be making a post like this but here goes.

what's happening in the university of brighton?

during the past week, the university of brighton has announced 110 staff redundancies in a bid to save almost £18m.

meanwhile, senior management have recently shelled out an almost identical sum of money to buy out the lease of a sports facility on campus - a decision which nobody asked for or wanted.

these redundancies will be finalised at the end of june and will have a catastrophic impact on learning conditions, which rely on the expertise of our lecturers. though the ripples of this decision will be felt throughout the university, it explicitly and disproportionately targets 'non-profitable' degrees such as humanities, arts, social sciences, etc.

for the staff made redundant, it could mean the end of their academic career due to a surplus of unemployed academics as a result of sector-wide lack of funding for teaching and research. this is also happening during a cost of living crisis.

lecturers on work visas could be forced to leave the country and may not be able to support their families. those who aren't made redundant will suffer from increased workload, larger class sizes, inability to conduct research and more students per member of staff.

the university of brighton offers a fantastic range of unique, interdisciplinary courses in the heart of the uk's queer capital, allowing our vibrant student community to benefit from intimate seminars that immensely benefit our learning. with some of our departments being cut by more than half, the loss of these will be absolutely devastating.

in the e-mail the student body were sent, we were told the redundancies 'wouldn't affect us', with zero acknowledgement of the relationship students build with their lecturers.

this is an attack on the job security and dignity of our valued body of educational staff. the vice chancellor, who takes home around £250,000 a year, said she 'needs to pay the gas bill'. we say human beings over buildings.

the student body cannot allow this. this sets a dangerous precedent for workers all over the country.

so what can we do to help?

let them know that this not okay. voice your concerns to the vice chancellor debra humphris, who can be contacted at d.humphris@brighton.ac.uk

spread information. tell your friends. kick up a fuss. stand in solidarity with staff and students. contact your local representatives and encourage them to offer support. jeremy corbyn has already given his!!

consider following @ uobsolidarity on instagram to stay updated.

here is a petition you can sign and some relevant news articles. here's how to find your mp.

SOLIDARITY FOREVER. FUCK GREED. PLEASE BOOST!!!

[yuveim]

The University of Brighton has announced its plans to make over 100 academic staff redundant in an effort to save costs despite clear signs of financial mismanagement evidenced by the University's recent investments. These redundancies threaten 400 academic staff and the School of Humanities in particular, and show the University's disregard for humanities and social science teaching and research.

Added to this is the University's most recent and sudden decision to permanently shut down Brighton's public Centre for Contemporary Art gallery.

Students at Brighton have taken to occupy executive offices in a peaceful protest for the last week, but articles are now coming out of the alleged mistreatment and verbal abuse from University staff who are intent on removing the students without meeting any demands. The occupying students have only one - no redundancies.

If you are a UK resident, by signing this petition you can show support to staff, students and the public who are opposing the plans for redundancies. If you live outside of the UK, please share this post.

If you are a current, prospective or past student at UoB or a member of another UK University, please consider also showing your support to the Humanities area here by following instructions to email your views to University executives.

University of Brighton staff plan strike in protest at over 100 proposed redundancies

Students occupy university offices over job cuts

University goes to court to stop student protest

The situation at the University of Brighton is worsening – but we’re fighting for justice

[dlyarchitecture]

[xoxoluka]

hey! can i put in a request about long distance friends (maybe theres a lil summin going on but who knows?) reader and schlatt?

just have an idea of reader living in brighton or something and schlatt comes to visit...

sorry for the wait anon, pls enjoy!

jschlatt x reader

summary: schlatt has a crush on you, but you live in an entirely different country. he’ll find a way to make it work.

warnings: uhhhh

a/n: i got this request in a group of other notifications while i was at prom, i almost didn’t notice it :p also idk how school works in the uk sooo lmao

"listen, jay, we can meet up as soon as this semester ends, alright?" you say, trying to compromise with him. "as soon as I get back, I'll hop on a flight to Austin."

It's not like you wanted to put such a big wedge between the two of you, but you had gotten such a big offer from University of Brighton (full ride, you couldn't turn that down) towards your Art and Design degree, that there was absolutely no way you were going anywhere in the US. You lived in New York originally, you and Schlatt grew up together. It was weird being so far away from him.

"you can't just come now? take a week off or something?" he groaned.

"you know I can't," you sigh, sitting down on the bed in your dorm. "it's may. i'll be there in a few weeks, the term isn't much longer."

it was always odd having this conversation with him. something never felt right. you understood wanting to see him as a friend, but you always wanted to see him more than that. you chalked it up to being so close, but you knew in some small part of your mind that it wasn't the reason.

"alright, fine. but you're coming straight here when you're done."

"deal."

~

schlatt nearly lost an arm and a fucking leg trying to get here. first, the airport in Texas wasn't accepting his passport, then there was an issue with his luggage, and he almost missed his flight. and if that wasn't enough, he couldn't find the correct exit in the airport in Brighton, and there were no taxis available, making him stand there and wait for 45 minutes. thankfully, you had told him the time of your graduation in a phone call a few nights ago when you were complaining about how late it was.

he finally made it to the college after his many issues, and was just in time to watch you walk the stage.

"Y/N L/N, graduating with honors and a bachelor's degree in Art and Design." The crowd clapped as you stepped up on stage, from your seat down on the floor, taking the diploma and shaking the hands of the many people on stage. on your way back down, you think you pot a familiar face, but psych yourself out of the thoughts before you think about it too hard.

the ceremony ends a while after, and the crowd and graduates are dismissed. you planned on just going back to your dorm to pack, taking your cap off and holding it and your diploma under your arm as you walk, staring down at your phone.

"leaving without me?" you hear from behind you, making you perk up and whip around, seeing your favorite person standing behind you.

"oh my god!" you exclaim, jumping into his arms excitedly. tears of joy brim your eyes, laughing as he hugged you back.

you stayed like that for a good minute or so before he put you down and you separated.

"when did you get here?" you ask through laughs, wiping your eyes.

"just a while ago, made it right on time." he answers.

"jesus christ, i love you." you say before even realizing your mistake, and it took you a moment to register his silence.

you look up at him once you realized, a look of terror and guilt on your face. he looks serious, making you question if you had just blown it all. you hadn't even planned on telling him at all.

thankfully, he breaks and laughs, pulling you into a hug again. "love you too, toots."

you let out a breath of relief and laugh, holding him as tight as you can. "you came at the perfect time, I need someone to help me pack."

schlatt playfully groans in response to that, but looks down at you. "i guess i'll help you."

a/n: i crave the schlanket can someone buy me one

© property of xoxoluka. do not repost.

[oneminutefiftysixseconds]

🌐 You can add one race to the world tour calendar (promoting an existing race or inventing a new one). What do you do?

for everyone that asked me this question i thank you and i will be answering it all at once here because i put WAY too much thought into this. way too much.

Tour Of Britain But It's (Hopefully) Less Shit

Stage 1A: Richmond Park 10km 50m elev.

we open with a 10k lap of Richmond Park -- it's the cycling hotspot of the capital, time trials are a big part of the UK domestic scene, and i like a prologue TT. and it would really piss off london cyclists when whoever wins sets a record time around the park, taking with them the leaders jersey for the first proper road stage later the same day:

Stage 1B: London -> Brighton, 150km 1,000m elev.

a meandering journey to the seaside taking in the Olympics-famous Box Hill and joining the classic London to Brighton route, the first stage winner will likely need to bide their time and hope an attack on Ditchling Beacon gets them enough of a gap to take them to the finish line.

Stage 2: Oxford -> Cambridge, 190km 700m elev.

between the two ancient university towns lies the flat and beautiful Bedfordshire. the peloton will start among the dreaming spires and the sprinters will tough it out on King's Parade, a stone's throw from the apple tree newton supposedly sat under while working on gravitation!

Stage 3: Telford -> Stoke-on-Trent, 220km 1,500m elev.

we loop into Wales for a long but relatively gentle start to the hills... the Clwydian Range might not be the Pyrenees but there are plenty significant climbs in there that indicate today is likely one for the breakaway -- or an audacious solo -- and the notorious welsh weather could lead to all sorts of surprises

Stage 4: Manchester -> Leeds, 160km, 1,800m elev.

heading first south from Manchester into the Peak District and finishing with a city circuit in Leeds, this should be another chance for a breakaway ahead of tomorrow...

Stage 5, the Queen Stage: York -> Hardknott Pass, 280km, 3,500m (!) elev.

i woke up and chose violence. giro mountain stages eat your heart out, it's time for GC action in the North York Moors, Yorkshire Dales, and the Lake District with a summit finish on Hardknott Pass (the steepest road in england, maxing out at an eye-popping 30%). Rosedale Chimney, Buttertubs Pass, and the aptly named Struggle are the key climbs before Hardknott, and the helicopter shots will be superb as the race passes through some of the UK's most beautiful landscapes, finishing within sight of Scafell Pike.

Stage 6: Carlisle -> Glasgow, 180km, 850m elevation.

a border-crossing run into two laps of the iconic 2023 city circuit, this punchy stage will likely favour whichever classics specialist can recover the best from yesterday's efforts

Stage 7: Edinburgh -> Newcastle, 195km, 1,000m elev.

starting in scotland's capital, today is the final opportunity for any GC changes, mostly rolling terrain but enough to make a difference if it's only a few seconds

Stage 8: Peterborough -> Great Yarmouth, 180km 300m elev.

and so the Tour of Britain But It's (Hopefully) Less Shit concludes with a sprint along Great Yarmouth's seafront Golden Mile, bringing to an end a hopefully exciting one-week race in this country that does actually have decent cycling, contrary to what the actual TOB might lead you to believe

[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

[mistydeyes]

pharmacist! hcs

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summary: ik some people put themselves in the role of the pharmacist but here are some headcanons i have for her if you consider her more of an oc :)

pairing: 141 x pharmacist!reader

see her here counseling the 141

her story if she likes price

her story if she likes ghost

PS. Another part of her story is coming soon! Look out for next Wednesday :)

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

joined the British Army as a pharmacy captain after a two year pharmacy residency in a London hospital

she realized that working at a local chemists and in a hospital weren’t for her so she decided on the career change

speaking of her life before being a pharmacy captain, she was a good student — not at the bottom but not at the top

she primarily struggled with anything related to pharmacology but excelled with therapeutics and counseling

her blood type is O- (a universal blood donor)

before becoming a pharmacist, she had aspirations of becoming a linguist or historian

was amazing at picking up languages and learning them after some time

but she was drawn to pharmacy after seeing how it helped a close family friend who had an MRSA resistant infection

knows 10 different languages and counting (with varying speaking and writing fluency) - English obvi, Spanish, Mandarin, Greek, Latin, Russian, Arabic, Swedish, German, French, and is currently learning Portuguese

loves taking walks and runs at the base gym (she has to get in her recommended 150min of exercise a week)

if you think she’s listening to music while exercising you’re wrong, she’s listening to podcasts and always loves the medicine focused ones

always will show up to military balls or formal events and talk to you about anything under the sun

loves interacting with people 1 on 1 rather than behind a pharmacy counter

also keep in mind she’s not flirting, she just loves chatting with people and knowing how to make their day better

one time, she met a linguist and after the initial awkwardness (she thought the pharmacist was hitting on her), they had a whole conversation about the nuances of languages

if you know her well, you’ll notice how she deflects the conversation onto you and talking abt yourself as she loves observing

Gaz and Ghost frustrate her at times as she finds herself revealing things she normally won’t tell patients

despite the health risk, she loves caffeine and always has an energy drink or cup of coffee during the day

her diet is completely different, she prefers to prepare things in her room or look for the best things in the mess hall (she needs a balanced diet)

her bookshelves in her room are filled with books in a variety of languages and are often history books or classics

she also is currently reading a book that details the history of women in medicine

she has pictures in her room which show her happiest times aka being in pharmacy school

carries a large water bottle with her at all times and her tech’s have to remind her to stay hydrated during a shift

her techs are basically her siblings and she likes to take them off base occasionally to chat about something different than drugs and immunizations

her drink of choice is a tequila sunrise because tequila is the only alcohol that isn’t a depressant and also orange juice is a great source of Vit C!

her second drink of choice is a penicillin

wants to be a professor when she retires and dreams of teaching about self-care recommendations and emergency medicine

has a small tattoo of a mortar and pestle on her forearm, she got it with some of her friends when they all graduated

her tech joked that she should get a notepad tattooed on her wrist because she always writes reminders on her arms

primarily lives on base and occasionally visits her parents who live in Brighton

she updates them weekly but they know their daughter is in one of the safest places in the UK

her favorite drug to administer are any antimalarials, eye drops, nasal spray, and inhalers (she loves that she just has to count the boxes)

her least favorite is Metformin and thyroid drugs as they often are in counts of 90 or 180

constantly uses pink pen and colorful sticky notes (peep her little notes in the medical files)

the reason she hates doctors is not because of anything significant but because of an ex that told her that her degree was irrelevant because she didn’t go to med school

hates the stigma against pharmacists, in the US they’re literally considered doctors so why is there such disrespect?

she’ll never admit it but her favorite patients are the 141, they all have such unique personalities that she constantly looks for their scripts every morning

[3terna15unshin3]

Consumption

Este sees 'Consumption' in person

2259 words

warnings: !! 18+ !! smut, minors dni, public unprotected sex, dom!matty if u squint, filth in general

—

a/n: Heyyyyy nobody requested even anything similar to this but I had a vision and needed to fulfil it ok thank u love u enjoy

(I wrote an entire 15 chapter fic of this universe! Read it here if you want more Matty and Este😌)

—

Luckily, by the time the UK and Ireland leg of their tour came around, Este was able to work remotely and travel along with them. It was cold and gloomy—London pulling through with its regular dreariness—so she was happy to have at least a bit of a change of scenery.

Until now, she was forced to watch from afar, only seeing photos and videos of the North American shows back in autumn. But of course, Matty was completely open with her as the show as a whole came to fruition; its set design and artistic concepts always shared between the couple. So none of it (even the parts that were as jarring as watching footage of her boyfriend chowing down on raw meat) came as a surprise for Este. That was until she got to experience it in front of her own two eyes.

Brighton was the first show. 8th of January. Her feet were perched to the side of the stage, swaying happily to the familiar songs and watching Matty perform them with an inflated ego and sly smirk on his face.

She thought the persona was quite hot. The heat in her cheeks heightened every time he made cocky gestures and pranced around with purposeful pride. Este had already seen plenty of videos of ‘consumption’, and had her own fun with them; teasing Matty about how much the concept exposed him and how crazy it made the crowd go. They were feral for him. So was she, to be fair.

Seeing his bare chest heave up and down—too similarly to how Este easily made it move when they were alone together—made her go insane. Her eyes stung when she refused to blink, busy staring at Matty’s hand trailing over his crotch. Este wasn’t expecting it to have such a strong effect on her, assuming that either the thousands of people also watching him or the fairly profound purpose of the act would water down the sensuality of it. But fuck, it was hot. She could practically hear the sound of his moans in the back of her ear even though he was metres away.

That first night was difficult enough; having to stand and look as if she wasn’t hot and bothered by what went on in front of her eyes. Watching it over and over, night after night, served even harder.

So over half way through the leg, now in Glasgow, Este couldn’t help herself. She’d been particularly touchy during the day but that wasn’t all that unusual, so Matty still wasn’t expecting her to whisper “Come fuck me after consumption,” in his ear before he went on. She meant business. The sentence replayed in the back of his mind as he strummed at his guitar, internally begging the set to move faster so he could climb through the little telly and flip the place upside down to find Este.

When the time finally arrived and he plonked his bum on the sofa, Matty imagined it was her hand on his skin and slipping past the waistband of his pants. He even discretely gave his nipple a quick squeeze and whined at the sensation. It wasn’t very convincing, feeling the roughness of his hand and how it contrasted to how delicate hers were, but fantasizing about Este wasn’t anything new to him—so he had to snap himself out of it before his arousal began to show.

Matty shook his head and chuckled to himself as he did press up after press up. The power those short 5 words uttered by his girlfriend was unfathomable. She knew it would make him less focused and throw him off his game; but that’s why she did it, and he could tell. Este wanted the upper hand. He considered giving in to it—but today he wanted to toy with her. It was only fair if she was clearly trying to toy with him.

So, right as he stood up after crawling off stage, he grabbed George and the first stage manager in sight.

“Loop the Too Shy intro. I need it to play twice,” Matty instructed.

They looked as confused as ever. “What are you on about?” asked the drummer.

Matty glanced past George and caught sight of Este. Leaning against a random doorway and burning her gaze into his. He didn’t waste any time and bee-lined towards her.

“Just do it. And maybe a warning through my ears at 90 seconds out? Please? I owe you one!” He trailed off, eventually turning fully away from them and jogging to Este with desperation. Before he could leave completely, Matty remembered to grab the small pile of clothes that sat ready for him, taking them with.

Este grinned at the conversation she overheard and at the state of Matty, who suddenly yanked her hand to drag them both into the room she stood in front of. It seemed to be a storage room, cramped full of random stage equipment and dimly lit. He slammed the door behind them.

“You found me.” She commented.

Instead of responding, Matty pulled her in by the back of her neck and kissed her with an open mouth. His new outfit for when he had to re-enter the stage was discarded to the floor. She smiled into him, grabbing his hips so they were flush against hers. Her back thumped onto the back of the door, Matty holding her there as their mouths moved in sync with hungriness.

They broke apart to gasp for air. “The fuck are you doing asking me to fuck you right before I go on?” he intensely whispered, dipping his lips down to her neck. Este panted and clenched her thighs together.

“I didn’t ask you to fuck me, I told you to.”

He continued nipping at her skin, then shoved his leg between Este’s—the top of his thigh rubbing her clit through her pants. She moaned, reaching her hand to grip him over his pants.

Matty shook his head and removed her hand from his crotch. “Uh uh uh. You don’t get to touch me,” he scolded, hearing her giggle in response. “Think it’s funny? Making me have to try and not get hard in front of all those people?”

She nodded.

Warmth grew in Este’s stomach within seconds, already wet beneath her knickers. His thigh kept at it as their lips reconnected and their tongues licked into each other’s mouths, before he reached a hand into the front of her pants, using his fingers against her instead. She moaned loudly, making Matty clamp his other hand over her lips. Even the now muffled noise made blood rush to his cock.

“I bet you always get this wet when you watch me up there,” He rubbed circles on her clit at a dizzying speed.

“I do,” Este whispered behind his hand, choking her words out as she tried to hold in her moans. “There’s no time to faff around. Fuck me, baby, please—“

Matty abruptly turned her around with his arm still wrapped around her and hand still down her knickers. His swollen lips pressed to the side of her jaw.

“Beg for it, then.” he breathily called next to her ear.

Mouth slack and gasping now that Matty’s hand was no longer trapping it, Este’s eyes rolled back into her head as he increased the pressure on her clit and teased further south to her entrance. It was slick with wetness and she clenched with need, whining at how empty she was.

“Fuck me now, Matty. Please, I need more. I need you,”

“So fucking needy. Such a slut for me,” He saw her face twist with at his words. “Think you can take it?”

He bent her over and held her wrists behind her back. With his other hand, Matty took down her trousers—pulling her underwear to one side and revealing her dripping core.

“Yes, I can take it,” she panted, “Use me however you want, please,”

Este looked over her shoulder to see him then free his cock; so hard it looked painful. He gave himself a few pumps before sliding in at an annoyingly slow pace. She gasped at how he filled her up.

“Fuck,” groaned Matty, revelling at the tight feeling around him. “Always so tight.”

He pulled out almost all the way just to shove himself back in at the same speed.

“More, baby,” Este begged, beginning to lean back to meet his sluggish thrusts half way, desperate for a quicker release. Matty listened, suddenly pounding into her relentlessly. He still had her wrists in the grip of his left hand while his right steadied her hips. In complete control, like he wanted.

The new speed and the sound of his hips slapping against hers slipped Este deeper into the trance of pleasure she was buried in. She felt him deep inside of her, grazing all of the right places over and over. Mindlessly, Este clenched around him, craving every inch of his cock and wanting to feel even closer to him.

The action drew a low groan from Matty’s throat and encouraged him to mutter, “You’re perfect, E,” with passion. He stared down at the way he disappeared inside of her and snapped his hips even harder.

Their heads were so hazy that they couldn’t tell if there were minutes until Matty had to be back onstage or if they’d been fucking for far too long. And at that point, neither of them really cared. But the thrill of having only a few thin walls and a bit of stuffy space between the two of them and thousands of other people had them both not lasting very long. The door wasn’t even locked.

Matty finally set her arms free, pulling her upright and sitting her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. His chest pressed against her back. One hand found itself wrapped around her throat while the other teased her clit again as he railed into her. Este cried out at the sudden pressure on her sensitive core and leaned her head over to bite on his neck, in attempts to silence herself.

“Keep going and you’ll make me come,” she spluttered through the euphoria.

His bottom lip sat pinned behind his teeth, eyes closed in pleasure. “Good girl.” whispered Matty. He was focused—chasing his high as his girl milked him—wanting the same for her.

Este’s legs began to quiver, knees almost buckling beneath her, but the rush of Matty’s fingers pressing firmly on either side of her throat pushed her over the edge. The ecstasy in her lower belly snapped and she leaned further back in his neck, whimpering his name as she came.

He wasn’t far behind her; only seconds going by before he struggled to sustain the pace and force he’d set for himself, feeling the edge of his climax. The slickness that grew within her cunt as she was coming felt unreal around him.

“Where do you want me, love?” Matty grunted, now holding most of Este’s body weight up with an arm across her lower stomach—overstimulated and in so much pleasure it was painful.

“Inside me. Come inside me,” she pleaded messily, peering over her shoulder at him again. A few pieces of his hair stuck to his forehead with the layer of sweat that built there. He breathed with an open mouth and stared back at her, completely fucked out and looking like sex itself.

He listened, thrusting one last time and shooting his cum far into her. Este moaned at the warmth she felt when it happened. “Shit,” Matty said with a shriek.

Their hot and heavy breaths fell into sync with one another as they attempted to catch them, Matty still buried inside her. She grabbed his jaw to turn it and sloppily tangle her lips in his.

And before he could even pull out, he heard the stage manager through his inears, followed by Too Shy’s instrumental.

“90 seconds. Matty stand by, please.”

They froze in panic for a second but quickly realised that stopping was the opposite of what needed to be done. So, he pulled out—though he really didn’t want to—Este hissing at the overload of sensation. She bent back over, knowing the sight of his seed dripping out of her would rile Matty back up.

It did. And he didn’t appreciate her teasing him when he had seconds to get himself stage-ready. Getting hard again would be extremely inconvenient, unfortunately, thought Matty, as he tucked himself back into his boxers and began stripping completely to get into his second outfit.

Watching his white cum flow out of Este did hypnotise him. So the only thought that popped into his foggy post-sex brain was to take his tongue and lick it up.

Este gasped and whimpered once more at the feeling, before Matty turned her around and tugged her jaw open. Then, he forcefully spit it—a combination of his saliva and both of their cum that he’d just cleaned up—onto her tongue.

“Swallow it.” he commanded. She followed his word. “We always taste so good together, don’t you think?”

Slightly stunned, Este nodded her head up and down to agree. He pecked her on the lips, all while doing up the final buttons on his shirt and shrugging on the suit jacket. Then, he slipped out of the door.

“Break a leg,” she joked before it shut behind him.

Matty rolled his eyes with a smile and Este heard his hurried footsteps disappear towards the sea of Scottish fans.

[mybeingthere]

Sophie Wake, British artist, lives and works in Ashburton, Devon, UK.

She explains:

"I graduated from Brighton University, with a BA Hons in Graphic Design / Illustration and worked for many years as a busy freelance illustrator. Today, I respond to the rhythms of meditation and ancient tree tea ceremony which has become a fundamental companion to my creative approach."

[loversj0y]

For your 200 follower event you should do Invisible String with Wil! Maybe inspired by him being on tour, and once you guys connect, you realize all the similarities/close calls you’ve had to each other?

invisible string

event masterlist

pairing: wilbur soot x gn! reader

tws: bars/references to drinking

notes: this might be tphe longest one bc it felt wrong making it Not long, i guess so i hope you enjoy :3

word count: 2.5k

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng / @core-queen / @zooone / @lillylvjy / @melunnek

You hated heartbreak and the way it seemed to accompany you like an old friend. Several bad breakups led to the collective feeling of needing to leave, wanting to run, so you did. It wasn’t hard to find a university you could study abroad in and accommodations, especially with the proficiency in your courses meaning a scholarship wasn’t hard to find. Choosing a place to go was the hardest part; you knew you wanted to go to the UK, but you didn’t know where. Thankfully, there was a pretty simple solution: throwing a dart at a map. Leading you here: Brighton. The taxi drove you to your new apartment, and there was a rock song playing you’d wished to have gotten the name of before you got dropped off. 

After a week of unpacking and settling in, you’d gotten notably bored. So you decided to look for a place to go, or something to do, and you stumbled across a pretty small club that seemed quite nice. You walked in, and at first it reminded you of the dive bars back in America, but a bit nicer. You went up to the bar and ordered quickly, trying to speak a bit quieter given the glaringly obvious American accent. It wasn’t enough to entirely hide it, though. Once you got your drink, a blond boy who’d been next to you at the bar spoke up, loudly.

“Are you American?”

You looked at him and nodded. He seemed a bit younger, but given that he was in here meant he was probably at least 18. “Yeah, I just moved here.”

He perked up, grinning, “Follow me!” He didn’t give you much a choice before grabbing your arm and dragging you over to his friends, “My name’s Tommy, by the way! My brother Wilbur loves America, so he’ll be excited to meet you, c’mon!”

You chuckled, allowing yourself to be dragged over by him. He brought you to a group of five people, two of whom were incredibly tall. All five of them were giving an incredulous look at Tommy, making you laugh a bit. 

“Wilbur!” Tommy basically yelled as he pulled you over, “I found an American!”

You fought the urge to hide your face in your hands, instead taking a sip of your drink.

One of the taller guys, who you presumed was Wilbur, sputtered at Tommy, “Tommy! You can’t just drag someone over because they’re American, for fucks sake.”

“Yes, but you love America and you needed some cheering up, so ta-da!”

Wilbur just facepalmed, sighing and looking over at you now. He was an attractive guy, light brown curls and a tall frame, plus a good fashion sense if the Doc Martins were anything to go off of. “I am so sorry he abducted you. He is a child with no sense of manners.”

You chuckled softly, especially as Tommy gasped dramatically in response. “It’s alright,” you smiled softly, “Beats the alternative of sitting alone at the bar for an hour, so.” You shrugged.

Wilbur gave you a bit of a thoughtful look, but before he could speak up, the girl next to Tommy spoke.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, even if he literally just dragged you over. I’m Molly, Tommy’s girlfriend.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled softly, before Tommy took charge once more.

“Yes, right! Introductions! I’m Tommy, obviously the coolest one here, Molly is my wonderful and only wife, Jack over there is an dick, don’t be friends with him, but that’s his girlfriend Ellie, she’s too cool for him. You spoke to Wilbur, my lame brother, already, and the only one taller than him is the very gorgeous Ranboo,” he explained.

Not a single person looked pleased with his explanation, but they also didn’t exactly look surprised by him.

“Right, well, nice to meet you guys. I’m Y/N.”

“So, you’re actually from America? Are you visiting?” Jack asked, a kind smile on his face.

“Yeah, uh, I just moved here actually. I just needed a change of pace, I guess, so I actually transferred to the university out here.”

He nodded, and you could feel the entire group’s eyes on you for a moment. It was a bit unsettling, but that was more just the nerves.

“Cool, fellow American,” the tallest one, Ranboo, spoke up. You looked up at him (he was really tall), and you smiled. 

“Glad to know I’m not the only one out here. How’d you end up out here?”

“Uh… work, actually. It’s kind of a long story, but I had to move out here for my work stuff, so I did.” He shifted his eyes a bit as he spoke, and you just nodded, assuming he didn’t want to be pressed on the matter.

“Wilbur,” Tommy spoke, “tell them some cool America facts.”

“Tommy, they very likely know them better than me given that they actually lived there.” Wilbur chuckled softly.

I smiled softly at Wilbur, “I’d still like to hear them. Maybe I can tell you if you’re mistaken about any of them.”

He looked over and gave you a grin, and the conversations paired off. You and Wilbur discussed America and where you lived, and the fact that Americans need to stop building parking lots, which you agreed with.

After nearly an hour and a half, he disengaged, turning to Tommy, “I have to head out now, Toms. I’ll see you tomorrow though, yeah?”

Tommy nodded, then gave Wilbur a bit of an evil grin, turning to you, “Did Wilbur tell you he’s a big musician? He’s got to leave early because he’s got a gig tomorrow and has to do boring musician things.”

“Really?” You grinned softly, “That’s really fucking cool.”

“Yeah, well, Wilbur’s lame, but his band is cool. You should come to the gig!” Tommy exclaimed, and Wilbur’s cheeks dusted red, eyes widening at Tommy.

“I’d love to, but, only if it’s okay with you, I guess,” You looked up at Wilbur, raising your eyebrows.

He nodded a bit stiffly, “yeah, no, that’d be great. The more the merrier. I’ll see you both tomorrow then.” He waved, heading off quite quickly after.

“Is… he going to be mad at you for inviting me?” You chuckled, looking over at Tommy.

“Eh, he will be at first. I’ll probably wake up to an upset text, but it’s just because he gets nervous playing in front of people he wants to impress. Once he does fine after, he’ll text me all ‘Oh, Tommy, you’re so smart and right, thank you for inviting them since I was too much of a pussyhole to ask myself,’” he mocked Wilbur’s voice, and you laughed a bit. You blushed slightly at the implication that Wilbur wanted to impress you.

After a bit longer, the group dispersed, and you headed home. You actually ended up living pretty close to Tommy, who was about two blocks down from you. As you headed inside to your apartment, you smiled and got excited at the idea of going to the gig tomorrow and seeing Wilbur again. You fell asleep excited and wondering what type of music you’d hear from him and pleased with the people you’d happened to find. 

You managed to get to the gig without too much trouble the next day, and you were shocked by the sheer amount of people waiting outside. Tommy had texted you about going to a back entrance, which thankfully wasn’t too hard to find. He was waiting by the door to help you in as well, and you felt immediately starstruck. 

The place was pretty big, and Wilbur was already standing in the centre of the stage, practicing something on his guitar. The lights were hitting him perfectly, and he looked like an angel. You struggled to look away, until Tommy came up and basically draped himself against you.

“Stop simpin’ after Wilbur, c’monnnn, we’re heading backstage. He needs his little ‘rockstar-practice time’ or whatever.”

You flushed, turning away from Wilbur, “I’m not simping, I’m just in awe. This is really cool.”

“Yeah, yeah, well,” he walked further backstage with you following him, “you should’ve seen how long it took him to get used to it. Whole band did a bunch of fake shows to get used to performing.”

“Really? That’s smart, actually.”

Tommy just shrugged, taking you to room backstage where there was a much larger group of people than the night before. You recognized Molly and Jack, but the other three were complete strangers.

“Oh, Y/N, you came!” Molly grinned, waving. You waved back at her, nodding a bit. 

“These lot are more of the band. They are much cooler than Wilbur, you’ll find. That’s Ash, Leandra, and Mark.”

You waved, saying a quick hello, before allowing yourself to become an observer of the conversation.

The show started not too long after, with you, Jack, Molly, and Tommy watching from the side stage. You quickly discovered that the band, Lovejoy, was incredibly popular, and their music was fantastic. And Wilbur.

Wilbur was something else on stage. He was fully in his element, lights covering him in halo glows. His voice was melodic, and it made you want to melt. From the side stage, you could see how he leaned against the mic, the passion in his voice, and the intensity he matched in each song. It was about halfway through the show though, that you felt you blood run cold.

The song you’d heard in the cab when you moved in. It was their song. And if that wasn’t just the biggest coincidence slapping you in the face than god knows what was. You didn’t know what to make of it, other than feeling incredibly overwhelmed by fate and the new friends you’d made.

By the end of the show, you felt strange. You felt incredibly uncertain about your place in the world most days, but for some reason, as you watched Wilbur approach you and the group, you felt like there was no where else you belonged.

“Hey,” he walked over with a grin, “You came! What did you think?”

He looked almost nervous as he asked, sweat still dripping from his forehead as you chuckled, “It was amazing! I actually recognized one as well!”

A startled look crossed his face for a moment, “You did? Which one?”

“The, ah, I didn’t catch the name of it originally, but I want to say it’s Call Me What You Like if the setlists are correct. It was playing in my cab when I was dropped off in Brighton.”

He grinned, “Really? It was on the radio?” 

You nodded, “Yeah! I thought it was fantastic, but I didn’t have time to catch the name. At least now I don’t have to worry about forgetting it.”

“Oh, trust me, I wouldn’t let you,” he gave you a grin that shined brighter than any light on that stage, and you felt butterflies flood your stomach as you considered that maybe it was fate that brought you here.

Sometimes you didn’t consider the ways that time worked. In the span of one year, so much more had changed than you’d ever even considered. You moved to a new country, started a new school, made new friends. You cut your hair, changed your wardrobe, got a better music taste. You became much more social, started dating Wilbur, learned to feel more confident in yourself. 

The relationship probably was the most shocking of anything to happen. But it happened quickly, and it felt so right and so easy, as if your previous heartbreaks never occurred. You still had problems, mind you, however, there was something within you telling you it was fate constantly. 

You thought about fate a lot when you thought about your relationship. The random effect of the universe tended to have a weird way of making you think about stuff like that. The statistical chances of choosing to move to Brighton by throwing a dart at a map, of hearing Wilbur’s song play in your cab. Then there were the numerous things you’d learned over time, small coincidences that pointed to a string of fate tying you together. Of the color of his first album being the color of your first prom dress. Of the time he visited America and ended up staying twenty minutes from where you lived. Of your first boyfriend sharing Wilbur’s middle name. Of all these tiny clues of parallel moments within your lives that you could only see now in retrospect. 

The biggest thing within this string was the connection you felt to him that first night. It felt like that little string pulled you straight into that bar. When all of a sudden, all the stress and feelings you’d had about heartbreak and needing to run felt soothed, all past mistakes feeling fuzzy in comparison to something that was so right. 

“Darling,” Wilbur chuckled softly, “What are you thinking so hard about?” He smiled, walking over to where you were already laying down, ready for bed. 

“Do you ever think about fate?” You asked as he gently pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“Not often, I guess. Why?”

“I just think about us, and I just feel like there’s been a string connecting us, tying us together, and we just couldn’t see it.”

He smiled softly, slowly getting into bed next to you, “You think?”

“I don’t know for certain. But I know that there’s way too many coincidences to be normal. And that in one year, just by moving here… I don’t know it feels like I wasn’t living before being here, and even more now that I’m with you. I actually feel in charge of my life. Like time just changed everything for the better, and I have to at least believe that maybe it’s because fate brought us here.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into him, “Yeah. I’ve never quite thought about it like that. I like that idea though. I mean, the chances of us actually meeting were so slim. As much as I don’t love the concept of fate, I’ll love fate for this. Because if fate is what brought me to you, then I owe it so much.” 

You smiled lovingly at him, leaning forward to kiss him gently, “I owe it so much too. That- that little thread of gold tying us together.”

He held you a bit tighter, turning off the lamp next to him, “You think it’d be gold?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

He chuckled, “Why is that?”

“Because it’s your last name. And the leaves were gold when I moved here in the fall. What about you?”

“Hm,” he hummed, “Gold could be fitting. But I think it’d be some sort of blue or purple, like the sunset we watched on our first proper date.”

“That’d be nice,” you smiled softly, “I’m just glad it was there, if it is real.”

“Me too, love,” he whispered, before pulling you into a slow and gentle kiss. 

[importantwomensbirthdays]

Marianne Straub

Textile designer Marianne Straub was born in 1909 in Amriswil, Switzerland. Straub moved to Britain in the 1930s, and became one of the country's leading textile designers from the 1940s to the 1960s. In 1964, she designed the moquette for London tubes and buses that remained in use until 2000. Straub's fabrics were also used in airplanes, hospitals, ships, and government buildings. She was also an accomplished art educator who taught at the Central School of Art, Hornsey College of Art, and the Royal College of Art. In 1972, Straub was named a Royal Designer for Industry, the highest honor for designers in the UK. In 1993, she won the Sir Misha Black Medal.

Marianne Straub died in 1994 at the age of 85.

Image: DCA-30-1-POR-S-87-1. Design Council Archive, University of Brighton Design Archives

[nanowrimo]

30 Covers, 30 Days 2023: Day 27

For Day 26, we're featuring a cover designed by Emma for Young Adult novel Kleine Streuner by Rose Witt!

Kleine Streuner

A frustrated law student decides to move to Brighton, UK to kickstart her career as a streamer. There she makes the acquaintance of two established streamers who agree to support her in her endeavor to reach her subscriber goal milestone. However, unbeknownst to her, these two streamers pursue their own goals in agreeing to put a certified nobody on the map.

About the Artist

Emma has always had a keen interest in the visual arts but it hasn’t been until taking up a harrowing university degree that painting and graphic design has become her sorely needed outlet. 

Her socials can be found here: instagram.com/elmovert 

Cover Design Process:

This year. we gave designers the optional prompt to explain their design process for the cover! Here's Emma's thoughts:

The main motive of the cover shows the house in which one of the streamers resides, which becomes the central setting for the story. In the background, you can see the ocean and architecture mainly found in the South of England where the story is set. The cover is set during night time, which is more or less the time when streamers work. The five people on the cover are the most important characters, and the boy in the bottom left corner hints at the conflict of the story (him leaving the others).

[coldalbion]

"The modern meaning of bisexuality, which describes sexual and/or romantic attraction rather than sexed or gendered characteristics, only developed in the 1910s. However, for many years the different meanings of bisexuality were used at the same time and sometimes in the same texts. Sigmund Freud made his famous claim about ‘universal’ bisexuality in 1915, but referred to this both as a combination of masculinity and femininity and as a sexual or romantic attraction, writing, “the sexual object is a kind of reflection of the subject’s bisexual nature”. .... It’s also important to note that this terminology is particular to English-speakers in the West, and that elsewhere in the world there has been a diverse range of approaches to sexuality and gender that often reject binary categorisations. In many cases, these approaches have been restricted or prohibited as a legacy of colonialism.

It wasn’t until the late 1970s that the current understanding of bisexuality, as an orientation or capacity for attraction, became widely accepted in the UK as "the more common usage". Around this point, we started to see bi groups and events being established. The UK’s first bi group, London Bisexual Group, was formed in 1981, followed by other groups in Edinburgh (1984), Brighton (1985), Manchester (1986) and Glasgow (1988), as well as a London-based Bisexual Women’s Group. A magazine, Bi-Monthly, was founded, as well as two bi helplines in London and Edinburgh, and the UK’s longest continually-running LGBTQ+ community event, the annual BiCon.

Bi terminology and politics have continued to evolve since the 1980s. While definitions of bisexuality initially focused on attractions to ‘both’ genders, over time it became more common to refer to ‘attraction to more than one gender’. The term ‘pansexual’ became popular in the 1990s in response to concerns about bisexuality upholding the gender binary, using the prefix ‘pan’ (‘all’) to suggest attraction that is not limited by gender. But this doesn’t mean that bi people are therefore only attracted to two genders. Some people attracted to more than one gender identify as both bi and pan, some as one or the other, and some as neither. The 1990 manifesto of Anything that Moves, a US bi magazine, explicitly stated that bisexuality shouldn’t be understood as binary: “Do not assume that bisexuality is binary or duogamous in nature: that we have “two” sides or that we must be involved simultaneously with both genders to be fulfilled human beings. In fact, don’t assume that there are only two genders”.

[theculturedmarxist]

Over 500 children have been killed in Gaza in the last week and over 2,000 maimed, many with life changing injuries. Nobody can claim they do not know what is already happening or what is about to unfold. The cutting off of food and water to Gaza is a major international crime, which the western proponents of the “rules based order” universally refuse to condemn.

In both the UK and the US there can be no more stark illustration of the lack of any kind of meaningful democracy, than the fact that there is no major political party that opposes the genocide – despite massive public opposition.

The bought and paid for media and political class in the west are extremely nervous, throughout the western world. Now they have come to the final genocide for which zionism has always aimed, they face a good deal of popular resistance.

Throughout Europe there is a massive gap between the zionist unanimity of the politicians and the much greater understanding of the Palestinian situation among the general public. Tellingly the response by the zionist political class has been a wave of outright fascist suppression.

In France, Macron has made all pro-Palestinian demonstrations illegal, but as so often the French people are not standing for that kind of authoritarianism.

In the UK, the police have adopted the cowardly tactic of arresting a couple of individuals, one in Brighton and one in Manchester, for pro-Palestinian demonstration. Under Tony Blair’s notorious draconian “anti-terror” legislation, they could face up to 14 years in prison.

The young man in Manchester was arrested on the precise site of the famous “Peterloo massacre”, which generations of British people were taught at school was a terrible crime in breach of the rights to freedom of speech and assembly. Let the irony of that set in.

You can go out in the streets of the UK with an Israeli flag and yell that you want every Palestinian to be cleansed from Gaza. That is not illegal. If you say the Palestinians have a right to resist their genocide, that is illegal.

That appears to be a genuine analysis of the law in the UK, France and many other western countries.

That is intended to terrify all of us. It will not work.

The European Commission has been ferociously zionist and gung-ho for this Palestinian genocide. It displayed the Israeli flag on its Berlaymont headquarters. It has taken a side in the most ferocious way.

It is therefore deeply sinister that the European Commission is actively working to shut down pro-Palestinian information and comment on social media. The European Commission has written to all major social media organisations and is able to threaten them with massive fines if they do not remove information of which the European Union disapproves.

The notion is plainly nonsense that through the fog of war the European Commission – which is 100% parti pris – is qualified to say what information is true and what information is false, and what comment is legitimate.

Thierry Breton, the European Commissioner in charge of this operation, is a former chief executive of electronic companies – and defence contractors – Atos and Thomson. He has no genuine interest in freedom of speech, and is engaged in a process of silencing dissent for military aims, which is quite simply fascist.

We are witnessing almost all western governments deliberately facilitating massacre, ethnic cleansing and genocide. We are witnessing almost all western governments turning on their own people to crush dissent at that complicity in genocide.

This feels not so much like the week that western democracy died, as the week it was impossible any longer to deny that western democracy died some time ago.