#Machine Learning Course in London

[callofdutymobileindia]

Top Machine Learning Programs in London for International Students in 2025

In today’s data-driven world, machine learning has become the backbone of innovations across industries—from healthcare and finance to robotics and autonomous systems. As a result, aspiring data scientists, software engineers, and technology enthusiasts are increasingly looking to upskill through reputable programs. If you're an international student seeking to pursue a Machine Learning course in London, 2025 offers more opportunities than ever before.

London, known as one of the world's leading hubs for technology and innovation, provides the perfect ecosystem to learn, experiment, and grow within the AI and machine learning space. With its multicultural environment, access to cutting-edge research, and thriving tech industry, it’s no surprise that thousands of students globally choose London for their AI and machine learning education.

In this blog, we’ll explore why London is a prime destination for international students, what to expect from top-tier programs, and how you can get started on your journey with the right institution.

Why Choose a Machine Learning Course in London?

International students choose London for a reason. The city combines academic excellence with vibrant industry exposure, making it ideal for both learning and launching your career.

1. Academic Excellence

London is home to some of the world’s most respected academic institutions and training centers. A Machine Learning course in London offers globally recognized certifications, industry-aligned curriculum, and access to the latest technologies and tools in AI and data science.

2. Global Tech Hub

London has established itself as a global technology and fintech center. It is filled with AI startups, enterprise R&D centers, and innovation labs, providing students access to internships, hackathons, and real-world exposure.

3. Cultural Diversity

As one of the most multicultural cities in the world, London is welcoming to international students. You’ll find peers from all corners of the globe, fostering collaboration and cross-cultural learning experiences.

4. Career Opportunities

Post-course placement opportunities are abundant. Graduates from a Machine Learning course in London often land roles in companies specializing in data science, AI solutions, machine learning platforms, and research-focused startups.

What to Expect from a Machine Learning Course in London?

Before enrolling, international students should be aware of what’s included in a comprehensive machine learning course. The ideal program covers both theoretical foundations and practical skills, with a focus on current industry applications.

Core Topics Typically Covered:

Supervised and Unsupervised Learning

Deep Learning and Neural Networks

Natural Language Processing (NLP)

Computer Vision

Reinforcement Learning

Data Preprocessing and Feature Engineering

Model Evaluation and Hyperparameter Tuning

Python Programming and Libraries (NumPy, Pandas, Scikit-learn, TensorFlow, PyTorch)

Tools and Platforms:

Python for machine learning development

Jupyter Notebooks for collaborative coding

TensorFlow and Keras for deep learning

Tableau or Power BI for data visualization

AWS, GCP, or Azure for deploying machine learning models

In 2025, London-based machine learning programs are designed to prepare students not just to build models, but also to deploy them, evaluate their impact, and understand ethical implications.

Boston Institute of Analytics – Machine Learning & AI Certification Program

The Boston Institute of Analytics offers a globally recognized certification in Machine Learning and Artificial Intelligence, specially curated for international students aiming to break into the tech industry or enhance their existing careers.

Why Choose BIA’s Machine Learning Course in London?

Here’s what sets it apart:

Global Recognition: The certification is respected across industries and geographies, giving students a competitive advantage in job markets worldwide.

Industry-Focused Curriculum: Unlike academic programs that are often theory-heavy, BIA focuses on real-world application. Students learn to build ML models that solve practical business problems.

Hands-on Training: With an emphasis on experiential learning, the course includes multiple projects, assignments, and case studies from domains like healthcare, finance, marketing, and e-commerce.

Expert Faculty: Classes are led by industry practitioners with years of experience in machine learning and data science, providing students with practical insights beyond textbooks.

Flexible Learning Options: BIA offers in-person training at its London campus and also provides hybrid or online formats to accommodate global learners.

Career Support: Resume building sessions, mock interviews, mentorship, and placement assistance are integral parts of the program.

Program Highlights:

Duration: 4 to 6 months

Mode: In-person (London Campus), Hybrid, or Online

Tools Covered: Python, Scikit-learn, TensorFlow, PyTorch, NLP toolkits

Certification: Globally recognized Machine Learning & AI Certificate

Eligibility: Open to students and professionals from all academic backgrounds

Ideal For:

International students from engineering, business, or mathematics backgrounds

Early-career professionals aiming for a transition to AI/ML roles

Entrepreneurs and analysts wanting to harness ML for decision-making

Graduates looking to improve employability and job-readiness

Benefits of Studying at Boston Institute of Analytics in London

1. Strategic Location

Located in the heart of London, BIA gives students access to a thriving network of AI meetups, startup incubators, and innovation forums. You’re not just learning in the classroom—you’re learning within the tech ecosystem.

2. Student-Centered Approach

Class sizes are kept small to ensure personalized attention. International students receive support for visa guidance, accommodation tips, and local job placement assistance.

3. Real-World Capstone Projects

Students complete a final capstone project applying the machine learning skills they’ve learned to solve a real business challenge. These projects serve as strong portfolio pieces for future employers.

4. Job Readiness by Graduation

With built-in modules for soft skill development, mock technical interviews, and resume workshops, students are prepared not only to build models but also to communicate their value effectively in the job market.

Career Outcomes After Completing a Machine Learning Course in London

The job market for machine learning professionals in London is robust and rapidly growing. After completing your certification or diploma, you’ll be well-equipped for roles such as:

Machine Learning Engineer

Data Scientist

AI Analyst

Data Engineer

NLP Specialist

Computer Vision Developer

AI Product Manager

Top industries hiring in London include finance, e-commerce, pharmaceuticals, automotive, insurance, and retail.

Salary expectations are also strong. Entry-level roles typically start between £40,000–£55,000 annually, while experienced professionals can earn upwards of £80,000, depending on the company and specialization.

Final Thoughts

Choosing a Machine Learning course in London is one of the smartest moves an international student can make in 2025. The city offers the perfect blend of academic rigor, practical experience, and career opportunities in the global AI ecosystem.

Among the top choices available, the Boston Institute of Analytics stands out for its industry-driven approach, flexible learning formats, expert faculty, and personalized career support. Whether you're a recent graduate, a working professional, or someone exploring a career shift into data science, BIA’s certification program will equip you with the knowledge and skills to succeed in the machine learning domain.

With London as your launchpad and BIA as your training ground, your journey into the future of AI begins with the right foundation. Get ready to learn, build, and innovate.

[bostoninstituteofanalytics1]

Artificial Intelligence Course in London: Your 2025 Guide to AI Education in the UK

Artificial Intelligence (AI) is transforming the world — from powering search engines and voice assistants to revolutionizing industries such as finance, healthcare, and transportation. As the demand for AI professionals continues to surge, London has emerged as a leading destination for individuals aspiring to build a career in this exciting field.

This guide explores everything you need to know about enrolling in an Artificial Intelligence course in London — including course types, what to expect, career opportunities, and how to choose the right program.

Why Study Artificial Intelligence in London?

London is one of the world’s most vibrant tech capitals, offering a thriving AI ecosystem, diverse career opportunities, and top-tier academic institutions. Here are a few compelling reasons to study AI in the UK’s capital:

1. Global Tech Hub

London is home to numerous AI startups, tech giants, and research institutions. The city consistently ranks among the world’s top innovation centers, attracting billions in tech investment annually.

2. Academic Excellence

London boasts several globally recognized universities and private institutes offering AI and machine learning courses. These institutions provide cutting-edge curriculum, expert faculty, and strong industry ties.

3. Access to Industry

Many AI courses in London include internships, guest lectures from tech leaders, and real-world project collaborations with companies in finance, healthcare, retail, and more.

4. Cultural and Professional Diversity

London’s multicultural environment provides a unique learning experience. Whether you're a local resident or an international student, you’ll benefit from diverse perspectives and networking opportunities.

What to Expect from an AI Course in London?

An Artificial Intelligence course in London typically combines theoretical knowledge with hands-on application. Whether you’re pursuing a degree or a certification, the course will likely cover the following areas:

1. Fundamentals of Artificial Intelligence

Introduction to AI concepts and history

AI applications in various industries

Understanding ethical implications and responsible AI

2. Machine Learning & Deep Learning

Supervised, unsupervised, and reinforcement learning

Neural networks and deep learning algorithms

Tools such as TensorFlow, PyTorch, and Keras

3. Natural Language Processing (NLP)

Language models and text classification

Sentiment analysis and chatbot development

Applications like OpenAI's GPT and BERT

4. Computer Vision

Image recognition, object detection

Facial recognition and video analytics

Real-time image processing

5. Programming for AI

Python for AI and ML

Data preprocessing and visualization

Working with libraries like NumPy, pandas, and Scikit-learn

6. AI Strategy and Implementation

Deploying AI solutions in business contexts

AI product development

Legal, ethical, and societal considerations

7. Capstone Projects & Portfolio Development

Most reputable programs in London include final projects that allow learners to build AI models and showcase their skills to potential employers.

Who Should Take an Artificial Intelligence Course in London?

AI is an interdisciplinary field, making it accessible to professionals and students from various backgrounds. You should consider enrolling if you are:

A university student or recent graduate interested in AI

A software developer, engineer, or IT professional looking to specialize

A business analyst, consultant, or manager who wants to integrate AI into strategic initiatives

An entrepreneur aiming to launch AI-driven solutions

A career switcher seeking a future-proof profession

There are AI courses in London designed for beginners, intermediate learners, and advanced professionals.

Types of Artificial Intelligence Courses in London

1. University Degree Programs

Top universities in London offer full-time and part-time AI-related degrees at both undergraduate and postgraduate levels.

Examples:

BSc in Artificial Intelligence

MSc in Artificial Intelligence

MSc in Machine Learning and Data Science

Duration: 1 to 3 years Delivery: On-campus, hybrid

2. Professional Certificate Courses

Short-term programs are designed for working professionals who want to gain specialized AI skills without committing to a long academic degree.

Duration: 3 to 12 months Topics: Applied AI, Python programming, NLP, and machine learning Delivery: In-person, online, or hybrid

3. Bootcamps

Bootcamps provide intensive, accelerated training in AI and are popular for career switchers or those seeking rapid upskilling.

Duration: 8 to 16 weeks Focus: Real-world projects, job readiness Example topics: AI model deployment, computer vision, deep learning frameworks

Choosing the Right AI Course in London

To make the most of your AI learning journey, here are the key factors to consider when selecting a course:

1. Course Curriculum

Ensure the syllabus includes current topics like generative AI, agentic AI, large language models, and AI ethics in addition to standard ML and NLP topics.

2. Practical Learning

Hands-on projects, real datasets, and opportunities to build AI models are essential. Some courses also include hackathons or collaboration with local companies.

3. Instructor Credentials

Look for courses taught by AI researchers or practitioners with industry experience. This ensures the teaching is not only academic but also industry-relevant.

4. Industry Links

Top AI programs in London often partner with tech companies, providing students with internship opportunities, networking events, or job placement support.

5. Flexibility and Format

Depending on your schedule, choose a course that fits — whether it’s evening classes, weekend batches, online self-paced modules, or full-time study.

Career Opportunities After an AI Course in London

Completing an Artificial Intelligence course in London opens doors to a wide array of career paths. London’s AI job market is among the most mature in Europe, with companies actively hiring skilled professionals across domains.

Popular AI Job Roles:

AI Engineer

Machine Learning Engineer

Data Scientist

Natural Language Processing (NLP) Engineer

Computer Vision Specialist

AI Product Manager

AI Research Associate

Leading Sectors Hiring AI Talent:

Finance – Algorithmic trading, credit scoring, fraud detection

Healthcare – Diagnostics, patient data analytics, medical imaging

Retail & E-Commerce – Recommendation engines, customer analytics

Transport & Logistics – Predictive routing, autonomous driving

Media & Entertainment – Personalization engines, content generation

With London being a global headquarters for tech giants like Google DeepMind, Microsoft, and Amazon, graduates of AI programs are well-placed to land high-impact roles.

Featured Industry-Ready Program

Among the many AI learning options in London, certain industry-focused programs stand out for their blend of theory, application, and career support.

For instance, one leading program offers hands-on training in AI, machine learning, and data science. Designed by data professionals, the course includes:

Practical learning with real-world datasets

Mentorship from AI experts

Career coaching and resume preparation

Exposure to generative AI, agentic AI applications, and ethical AI frameworks

Graduates leave with a job-ready portfolio and access to a strong professional network — ideal for those seeking quick career transitions or startup opportunities in AI.

Final Thoughts

Enrolling in a Machine Learning Course in London is one of the most strategic investments you can make in 2025. Whether you're an aspiring tech professional or a seasoned business leader, gaining AI expertise will equip you to thrive in an increasingly data-driven world.

With access to world-class education, cutting-edge tech environments, and an active AI job market, London offers an unmatched platform for your AI journey. Choose a course that emphasizes practical skills, includes emerging technologies like generative AI and agentic AI systems, and aligns with your career goals.

[ok-orange-8774]

A machine learning course is an educational program or series of classes designed to teach individuals the principles, algorithms, and practical applications of machine learning. Datamites provides online training in London

[londonittraining2]

Machine Machine Learning Course in London

London IT Training offers the best Machine Learning courses in London. Join our comprehensive program to learn the art of Machine Learning and boost your career. Visit our website for more information.

https://www.londonittraining.co.uk/machine-learning-training-certification-courses-london-online-uk/

[londonittraining012]

London IT Training offers the best Machine Learning courses in London. Join our comprehensive program to learn the art of Machine Learning and boost your career. Visit our website for more information.

[londonittrainingcom]

Top Machine Learning Training Courses in London: Unlock your Potential

Are you looking for the best Machine Learning Training in London? You've found it! London IT Training provides comprehensive Machine Learning certification and training courses in London. These are available both online and in person. Our industry-relevant curriculum and expert instructors will ensure that you develop the skills and knowledge necessary to excel in Machine Learning. Join us today to advance your career right in the heart London.

Machine Learning Training London

[machinelearningtraininglondon]

London Machine Learning Courses: Unlock the Power of Machine Learning

Introduction:

The demand for machine learning and AI expertise has never been higher in today's digitally-driven world. Machine learning skills are highly sought after as businesses rely more on automated decision-making. A Machine Learning Course London could be the key to your success if you want to improve your career prospects. This article will explore the advantages of taking a Machine Learning Course and provide you with the best options in London.

Why machine learning training is important:

Machine learning is an artificial intelligence subset that focuses on the development of algorithms and models to enable computers to learn from data and make predictions and decisions based on it. This cutting-edge area has applications in many industries, including finance, healthcare, and e-commerce. It would help if you had a solid foundation in machine-learning techniques, tools, and algorithms in order to thrive in this field.

Benefits of Machine Learning Courses in London

Skill development: This comprehensive machine learning course will equip you with the skills necessary to work on complex projects, develop predictive models, and automate decision processes.

Career Development: London has a number of tech startups, multinational corporations, and research institutes. A machine learning course can lead to exciting career opportunities in London.

London has a vibrant tech community with many conferences and meetups. You'll be able to connect with experts and professionals in the tech field by studying in London.

Flexible Training Options: Many organizations offer flexible training schedules, including evening and weekend classes. This allows working professionals to upgrade their skills without having to disrupt their daily lives.

Machine Learning Courses London:

London IT Training: London IT Training offers an excellent Machine Learning Training Course. They offer evening classes and weekend courses, along with live online training. The course includes everything from machine learning basics to advanced topics. This course is designed to help both beginners and professionals excel in machine learning and artificial intelligence. 

Highlights of the Course

A comprehensive curriculum that covers machine learning algorithms and techniques.

Experience real-world projects in a practical way.

Highly qualified and experienced instructors.

Top industry players recognize certification.

Other options:

London IT Training is not the only institution offering machine learning in London. Explore options in universities, training centers, and online platforms. Choose the option that best fits your schedule and goals.

Conclusion:

Machine learning has transformed industries, and professionals with the necessary skills and knowledge can take advantage of this. A Machine Learning Course is a great way to give yourself a competitive advantage in your career. London has a wide range of classes to choose from, whether you want evening, weekend or online courses. Enroll in a Machine Learning course and invest in your future.

[fangirlfuel]

A Foolish Bet

Plot: What starts as a harmless bet between Lando and his friends turns into something much deeper but a careless mistake might ruin everything.

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Part 2 Part 3

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The London café buzzed with quiet energy, a warm hum of conversation, the soft hiss of the coffee machine, and the occasional clatter of cups. It was the kind of place Lando Norris and his friends often found themselves in when they weren’t busy racing or traveling. Tucked away in a corner booth, the group lounged lazily, half-listening to Max Fewtrell’s story about a particularly embarrassing moment during a sim race.

But Lando wasn’t paying attention. His focus had drifted to the far side of the café, where you sat alone by the window, engrossed in a book. The golden afternoon sunlight streamed through the glass, illuminating your features in a way that made you look like you belonged in a painting.

“Lando,” Max called, snapping his fingers in front of his friend’s face. “You’re zoning out, mate. What are you staring at?”

“Nothing,” Lando muttered, his ears turning pink.

“Doesn’t look like ‘nothing,’” Charles Leclerc chimed in, leaning over to follow Lando’s gaze. When his eyes landed on you, he smirked. “She’s gorgeous. Who is she?”

“No idea,” Lando admitted.

Max leaned back in his seat, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Alright, how about this? Let’s make things interesting. I bet you 300 dollars you can’t make her fall in love with you in five months.”

Lando’s jaw dropped. “Seriously? A bet?”

“Come on,” Max teased, nudging him. “It’s not like you need the money, but don’t tell me you’re scared to try.”

“I’m not scared,” Lando retorted, his competitive nature flaring up.

“Then prove it,” Charles added with a grin. “Five months. If you win, we each chip in 300 dollars. If you lose, you pay us. Deal?”

Lando hesitated, glancing at you again. He didn’t need the money, of course, he made more in a week than this bet was worth. But something about the challenge intrigued him. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted an excuse to talk to you.

“Fine,” he said, standing up. “You’re on.”

---

You were so absorbed in your book that you didn’t notice someone approaching until a shadow fell across your table. Glancing up, you saw a tall, curly-haired guy with a friendly smile and warm brown eyes.

“Hey,” he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “Sorry to bother you, but I couldn’t help noticing your book. It’s one of my favorites.”

Surprised, you tilted your head. “Really? Most people I know haven’t even heard of it.”

“Well, I’m not most people,” he replied with a playful grin. “Mind if I join you?”

For a moment, you hesitated. Strangers didn’t usually approach you like this, but something about his demeanor put you at ease. “Sure,” you said, gesturing to the chair across from you.

And just like that, the spark was ignited.

---

Over the next two months, Lando made it his mission to get to know you. He showed up at the café more often, “coincidentally” running into you and striking up conversations. He learned about your favorite books, your love of rainy days, and the way your eyes lit up when you talked about your passions.

Soon, casual coffee chats turned into proper dates. Dinners at cozy restaurants, late-night walks through the city, and lazy Sundays spent watching movies at his place. You found yourself drawn to his boyish charm, his sense of humor, and the way he always seemed to prioritize you, even when his schedule was packed.

By the end of the first month, you were inseparable. And by the end of the second, you were hopelessly in love.

---

Lando couldn’t believe how quickly you’d become the center of his world. What had started as a silly bet was now the most important part of his life. He’d completely forgotten about the deal with his friends. All he cared about was you the way your laughter filled his home, the way you fit so perfectly into his arms, and the way you looked at him like he was your whole world, too.

So much so that after just a month of dating, you moved in together. It was fast, sure, but neither of you could stand being apart. His once-bachelor pad was now filled with your little touches, your favorite candles, a growing collection of books, and even a blanket you insisted made his couch “cozier.”

Lando had never been happier.

---

One Friday night, you and Lando hosted a small gathering at your shared apartment. It was meant to be a chill evening with drinks, snacks, and a lot of laughter. Max, Charles, and a few others were there, all in high spirits.

Max, however, was a little too “spirited.” After a few beers, he leaned back in his chair, grinning at Lando. “Man, I still can’t believe you actually won the bet.”

The room fell silent.

Lando froze. His heart dropped into his stomach as the words registered.

“What bet?” you asked, your voice steady but laced with suspicion.

Max’s grin faltered as he realized his mistake. “Uh, nothing. Just...”

“Max,” you said firmly, turning to look at Lando. “What bet?”

Lando opened his mouth, but no words came out. He felt like the air had been knocked out of him.

“Lando?” you prompted, your expression unreadable.

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A/N

Hi, everyone! That’s the end of part one of this Lando x Reader story. I hope you enjoyed the build up and the tension! I’ll be working on part two soon, where we’ll see how the reader reacts to the revelation of the bet and what it means for their relationship.

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Side note: I have a math test coming up, and I’m absolutely terrible at math. If anyone has any tips for staying calm during exams, let me know! Also, don’t forget to reblog and like this post, it helps so much!🥹🫶🏻

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Stay tuned for more drama, and thanks for reading!

.

[p0orbaby]

Hello! If you’re still doing the short blurbs may I request a short one with R taking alexia ice skating? R’s really good and alexia’s really bad. So bad she needs to hold the kids penguin support thing type bad. But she’s a bit stubborn and doesn’t want help. She’s constantly holding on to the rail, falls on her bum and one kid even laughs at her. But after a few falls she finally gives in and lets R guide/help her, and even lets go of the side ☺️

No worries if it’s not your thing!

-

At first, she’s suspicious.

You’ve never seen Alexia side-eye a leisure centre before, but here we are. A converted warehouse in some unholy corner of South London with strip lighting, a vending machine from the ’90s, and the distinct smell of wet sock. She’s clinging to your sleeve like it’s diplomatic protocol.

“People do this… for fun?” she asks, brow arched, eyes darting around like she’s assessing the risk of frostbite.

“They do,” you say, handing her a pair of skates and watching her stare at them like they’ve personally wronged her. “It’s charming. Festive. Builds character.”

“You’re trying to kill me,” she decides.

You do not deny it.

She lasts twenty-three seconds on the ice before the first fall. It’s not even dramatic—more of a slow, deliberate sit-down, like her thighs have made an executive decision.

“I am not built for this,” she hisses, as a six-year-old glides past her effortlessly and then circles back to laugh. Loudly.

You try not to laugh with the child.

She glares at you from the ground. “I have two Ballon d’Ors.”

“And now you have mild bruising,” you reply, extending a hand.

She swats it away and scrambles upright via the wall like a very determined crab. “I don’t need help.”

“You just got shown up by a child in a Peppa Pig bobble hat.”

“She’s probably training for the Olympics.”

The next fall is less dignified. She tries to push off from the rail, gets maybe three inches of momentum, panics mid-glide, and immediately pancakes. A nearby steward offers her a little plastic penguin—the kind toddlers use to learn. She accepts it. With bitterness in her eyes and pride in shreds.

“This is humiliating,” she mutters, inching forward while clutching the penguin’s ears. “I play football for a living.”

“Exactly,” you say. “Footballers aren’t known for their balance.”

“I do Pilates.”

“That makes this even worse.”

She gives you a look that says I love you but I could end you right here on the ice and make it look like an accident.

You’re already pretty good. Comfortable. Confident, even. You circle around her once—purely to show off, obviously—then coast backwards in front of her like some smug, ice-dancing forest nymph.

“Stop that,” she snaps. “You look like that Disney ice queen, Elisa or whoever.”

“Is that jealousy I hear?”

“It’s rage,” she says, but her mouth twitches at the corners.

Three more falls and a minor tantrum later, she gives in.

You’re holding out a hand before she even asks. She takes it.

“I’m only doing this because I’m freezing and tired,” she says, like you’ve dragged her to a hostile terrain under false pretences.

You smile. “Of course.”

“Not because I need you.”

“Obviously not.”

And then—slowly, awkwardly, but determined—she lets go of the wall.

One of her hands is in yours. The other is still on the penguin’s plastic face, but it’s progress. Her feet slide forward, cautious but brave. You guide her gently, fingers tight around hers, keeping pace. Every now and then she wobbles, curses softly in Spanish, and shoots you a dirty look—as if the ice itself is under your command.

“You’re laughing,” she accuses.

“I’m delighted.”

“I’m never doing this again.”

“You’re doing so well.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

A pause. A sigh.

“Yes. But I hate you also.”

And you can’t help it—you beam. The rink lights are too bright, the air smells like someone’s gym bag, and your girlfriend is hanging on to a fibreglass penguin for dear life, but it might be the best date you’ve ever been on.

Even if she spends the rest of it muttering darkly about broken ankles and national embarrassment.

[haxkattpress]

Our Objective Remains Unchanged by @citrusses

"Harry Potter, returning member of the Oxford University Boat Club, has two goals for the spring of 2005: beat Cambridge, and beat Draco Malfoy. Perhaps not in that order."

This has to be one of the most creative and meticulously researched fics I have ever had the pleasure of reading. If you haven't read it yet, don't walk— run! Citrusses is an absolute genius, and kindly gave me permission to bind her masterpiece.

The cover of this bind is made out four different shades of Allure bookcloth cut by my Cameo 4, and the centerpiece is printed and hand foiled. The banners were machine foiled in gold and black with hand foiled rose gold shading. The endbands were hand sewn with Gutermann silk thread.

You can find more pictures and information about my process under the cut.

The amount of inspiration this fic gave me was overwhelming, and Citrusses' writing fully immersed me in the world of competitive rowing. While designing this bind, I was struck by the sheer wealth of Oxford rowing memorabilia available to me. I settled on this 1929 illustration from an official publication on the Oxford and Cambridge Centenary Boat Race for the cover.

"How hard could it possibly be?" I thought, foolishly. The answer was HARD, but I'll get into that later.

Due to the wealth of design options, I believe that this may be the best typeset I have created to date. Thanks to the help of my friend @tsurashi-bindery, I was able to learn the basics of InDesign (kicking and screaming all the way). There will be spoilers in the text of these photos, so try not to read them if you haven't finished the fic!

For the title page, I modified To See the Crews in Training by Charles Pears (1930). I believe that this was part of a series of advertisements for the race in the London Underground.

For the chapter headers, I redrew the crest from an Oxford Oars, Flags, and Arms postcard, presumably pre 1914. I also had some fun creating a mock email using La_Temperanza's How to Mimic Email Windows on Ao3. Cormac's email makes me laugh every time I read it, and Citrusses provided an appropriately pompous subject.

I also had lots of fun editing the oars from the official OUBC logo to serve as dividers and decorations for the page numbers.

Additionally, I got to edit a full newspaper page for the fic! I was very excited find an opportunity to slip Leyendecker's The Finish (1908) in.

The fic ended beautifully, so I wanted to include one last element at the end to capture the atmosphere. I settled on L'aviron (1932) by Milivoj Uzelac. It makes me feel as though Harry and Draco will continue rowing together long after I've closed the book.

I of course had lots of fun sewing the headbands, and got to do it with not one but TWO copies!

Things got tricky when I had to recreate the cover. I had a poor understanding of how vector images worked, and ended up having to redraw it three times. Once I finally cracked and taught myself how to use Illustrator, the program crashed...and I had to redraw it a fourth time!

I set the vector to cut on my Cameo 4, and I assembled the pieces together like a puzzle on my Silhouette mat. I used Allure's indigo, skylight, white, and black bookcloth in the process. I will be making a tutorial video on this method, so I will keep it brief here.

I also cut a piece of bookcloth to 8.5"x 11" and fed it through my inktank printer to print the center design. I then cut it out using the print and cut feature on my Cameo 4. Both of these methods were a first for me, and they were very scary!!

To be perfectly frank, the foiling was a nightmare and I don't want to get into it. I machine foiled the gold, and then foiled black lettering on top of it. I foiled the rose gold shading by hand, and then foiled a thin black outline along the edge of the banners to make them stand out more.

I hand foiled the spines (because I'm scared of measuring), painted the exposed board (to hide any gaps in the inlays), and used transfer tape to lift my design from the Silhouette mat and onto the cover.

One more fun detail— my copy and the author's copy are sisters! The dark blue and the light blue are inverted on the author's copy, making it distinguishable from mine. This is the first time I have made an author's copy for a fic, and I was admittedly incredibly nervous. I always worry about what authors will think of my work, but Citrusses gave me an incredible amount of encouragement and support throughout the process! Thank you for trusting me with your precious fic!

This story is a work of fanfiction and can be read on Ao3 for free. My bind and typeset are for personal use only and not for sale or profit. Keep fandom free!

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

Weaponized | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Part Four

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Words: ~3,700

Series Tags/Warnings: Violence, Trauma, No Hogwarts House, Post Hogwarts, Auror!Sebastian, Auror!MC, Modern AU, Female Reader Insert, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Forced Proximity, Ancient Magic, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Betrayal, Reconciliation, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Divergent

Auror Division Headquarters, Private Quarters – London

Everyone else went home.

That was how it went. Aurors had two weeks on base, one week off. On Friday evening, the barracks emptied, voices thinned, boots vanished from the halls. By midnight, the only sounds left in the building were the low hum of the air conditioning and the buzz of the overhead lights.

You stayed, of course, because you had nowhere else to go.

No flat to return to. No family waiting with tea or firewhiskey. No key to turn in some apartment across the city where the bed was yours and the walls didn’t echo like Ministry concrete.

Your quarters were standard issue. Ten by ten. No windows. The cot was narrow, the mattress thin. Your few belongings were neatly tucked away, folded into drawers or stored in a single footlocker at the end of your bed. Everything you owned could be packed up in minutes. That was how it had always been. No roots, no permanence. Another night alone.

You sat on the edge of your bed, elbows braced against your knees, staring down at your hands. Tomorrow the new rotation of Aurors would arrive, and like clockwork, the same words would pass between them about you: weapon, liability, freak. But this time, you wouldn’t even get the scraps of interaction that came with your assigned squad. No drills. No missions. No orders to obey or disobey. Just silence. Silence and the things you couldn’t stop thinking about.

Whitechapel.

You swallowed hard.

The first man you’d taken down in the alley had been younger than you. Barely out of his teens. A boy, really. And yet you had killed him just the same.

Another had been older, maybe in his forties, his hair already peppered with gray. Had he had a family? A wife? A kid who would never know what happened to him?

They had been criminals, all of them. Dangerous men. If you hadn’t killed them, they would have killed you. They would have killed Sebastian, Mercer, Higgins, Evans… You knew that. You were supposed to make peace with that.

But peace had never come. 

Instead, you’d learned how to push your feelings down. How to keep your face neutral, your posture straight, your voice steady. No emotions. No weakness. Because soldiers didn’t get the luxury of regret. Soldiers didn’t get to mourn the lives they took. Soldiers didn’t get to be human.

But no matter what they thought, no matter what he thought, you weren’t a machine.

On the way back to base, Sebastian had watched you like he was trying to see inside your skull, waiting for a reaction that never came. You knew what he thought of you, what they all thought: that you felt nothing and that you didn’t care.

But you cared. God, you cared. You cared so much it ached.

The problem was, caring didn’t change anything. It wouldn’t bring them back and it wouldn’t make the next mission any different. You would kill again. You would return to base, file your reports, then sit here in this room, reminding yourself that this was all you had. That this was all you were. All the Ministry– Canadian, British, or otherwise–would ever let you be.

In ten hours you'd be on the clock again, following the same routine. Wake up. Run. Eat. Train. Eat. Kill, if asked. Shower. File reports. Repeat.

You ran a hand down your face, trying to shake off the thoughts, but the weight in your chest wouldn’t budge. The barracks were too quiet, the air too heavy.

You stood abruptly, crossing the small room in a few short strides. The movement was aimless, but you needed to do something. Anything. You opened your footlocker out of habit, rummaging through its sparse contents. 

A spare wand holster. A whetstone. A worn-out copy of Defensive Charms & Shielding Theory you’d annotated to death. A tiny tin of salve that still smelled faintly of sage and pine, the last thing your mother gave you before she was gone.

You stared down at it for a long moment. The tin hadn’t been opened in years. It was a relic of another life, another self. 

Some part of you wondered if keeping it was weakness. If it would be better to throw it out, along with everything else that didn’t serve a function. But you didn’t. Just like you didn’t touch the faded photograph tucked behind your copy of Defensive Charms, the one you never looked at but refused to throw away.

You shut the footlocker and rose to your feet again, tension coiled tight in your spine.

You needed out. A walk, maybe. Patrol. Something.

You slipped into the night. The base was still, the distant city lights barely visible beyond the walls of the training grounds. You moved without thinking, boots carrying you toward the far side of the compound, where the perimeter met the tree line.

You exhaled, slow and controlled, tilting your head back to stare up at the sky. The stars were clearer than usual tonight, less obstructed by city haze. A small comfort. It almost felt like home. 

Not the sleek, sterile halls of the Canadian Ministry with their observation rooms or reinforced training arenas. But real home. Vast stretches of wilderness. The crisp scent of evergreens in winter. The howl of wind through trees so tall they blotted out the sky.

You leaned back against the rough bark of a tree, arms resting loosely on your knees as you stared out across the dimly lit training grounds. The cold crept in slowly, wrapping around your ankles and fingers, but you didn’t move.

There were moments, in places like this—between missions, between orders—where you wondered if real life even had room for someone like you anymore. The kind with a house or a partner or a dog. The kind with soft mornings and quiet kitchens and a hallway filled with photographs.

You couldn’t picture it. Whatever that version of you might’ve been, the moment your ancient magic came to life, that version of you died, replaced with something sharper. Something useful. A version they carved out of you one mission at a time.

You sighed.

You should have gone back inside. You should have tried to sleep. Curfew was in less than an hour, and agonizing over these thoughts wouldn’t help anything. Still, you stayed.

And then there was movement. A flicker of motion near the dumpsters by the far fence.

You froze, muscles coiling out of habit, until you realized it wasn’t human. Too small, too low to the grass.

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes until you could make out the shape.

A cat.

Small and thin, sniffing around near one of the dumpsters. A stray, obviously. No collar, no sign of belonging to anyone. Just another thing that didn’t quite fit.

You watched as it picked its way across the dirt, pausing to sniff at a discarded food container that didn’t make it into the bin. It nudged it with its nose, searching for anything edible, before moving on, tail low, shoulders tense.

Something in your chest ached. You wondered, briefly, if you could bring it inside.

Of course, that would be against the rules. You weren’t permitted pets. 

Section 14.7 – Non-sanctioned Magical or Mundane Companions: “Wardens are strictly prohibited from keeping personal familiars, companion animals, or domesticated pets on Ministry grounds or within Ministry-assigned quarters. This includes but is not limited to cats, owls, rats, kneazles, crups, or any creature that could pose a distraction, safety risk, or interfere with mission readiness.”

You could recite the footnote, too.

“Attachment to non-regulated creatures is considered a breach of emotional neutrality and counterproductive to field detachment protocols.”

Counterproductive. Like wanting softness in your life was a liability. 

When you shifted to get a better look, as the cat looked up toward you. Its eyes caught the moonlight—one pale green, the other clouded blue with a film of blindness—and all at once, you forgot about the handbook.

Slipping back into the barracks, you moved quickly, making your way toward the mess hall. It would be closed at this hour, but that wasn't going to stop you.

A simple alohomora would get you in.

Inside the kitchen, the faint hum of cooling units filling the air as you made your way toward the pantry. The shelves were stocked with all the usual rations—loaves of bread, dried meats, vegetables. But that wasn’t what you were looking for.

There.

You spotted a stack of canned goods near the back, tucked beside a row of neatly labeled jars. You scanned the labels quickly before plucking one from the pile.

Tuna.

You turned, slipping the can into your pocket before making your way back toward the door, carefully re-locking it behind you as you stepped out, retracing your steps back outside.

The stray had curled up against a crate, ears flicking at the faint nighttime sounds, but it didn’t move when you approached, just cracked open one wary eye.

You slowed your steps, crouching a few meters away so you wouldn’t startle it.

“Alright,” you murmured, prying the lid off the can of tuna with a quiet pop. The scent hit the air immediately, sharp and salty, and the cat lifted its head, whiskers twitching.

You placed the open can down on the ground and then sat back, careful not to make any sudden movements. 

The cat twitched its tail, then uncurled from its spot, creeping forward. It was hesitant, stopping every few seconds as if expecting a trap, but hunger was stronger than fear. When it finally reached the can, it hesitated just a second longer before lowering its head and digging in.

You exhaled, shoulders slumping slightly. Good.

She was a girl, you realized. Calico fur, patchy and uneven, the colors mottled together like a weathered map. Her ribs were visible beneath her thin coat, and one of her ears bore a jagged notch.

For a while, you just sat there, watching. She ate quickly but warily, eyes flicking up every so often to check if you had moved. You didn’t.

You could relate to her, in some strange, quiet way. Both of you had found yourselves here, not belonging, making do with what you had. Living without anyone to care for you. Surviving alone.

But maybe… you could be alone together.

The cat finished eating, then blinked at you, slow and deliberate.

You exhaled. “You’re not scared of me, huh?”

She flicked her ear in response, as if unimpressed with the observation.

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you got to your feet slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements. You didn’t want to reach for her. Didn’t want to coax her closer. That wasn’t how trust worked. If she wanted to follow you inside, she would. And if she didn’t… well, that was her choice.

You turned, stepping away, boots quiet against the damp earth. You didn’t look back.

Even when you reached the barracks door, you didn’t turn around. You simply allowed for another beat to pass. Then soft footsteps. Light, barely there, but distinct against the stillness of the night.

She had followed.

Slowly, you pushed open the door, stepping inside, holding it open to let the little creature follow you.

You led her down the corridor in silence, and the closer you got to your quarters, the more absurd this should have felt. A regulation breach. A direct violation of conduct. A stray cat. And yet you still opened your door, stepped inside, and sat on the edge of the bed, watching as she crept into the room, tail flicking. When she reached the foot of your bed, she circled twice before settling down, curling into a small, compact shape against the floor.

"Hmmm," you watched the little calico for a moment. "What should I call you?"

Something simple. Something fitting..

"Moon," you murmured finally. "We did meet at night, after all."

The name settled between you, weightless but significant. She didn’t react much—just stretched one paw out lazily before tucking it back under her chest, closing her eyes halfway, as if she had already decided this arrangement was acceptable.

A quiet warmth curled in your chest, something unfamiliar. Something you weren’t sure you had the right to feel.

For the first time in longer than you could remember, you had a friend.

Auror Division Headquarters, Training Grounds – London

The sky was overcast. Your breath came in clouds as your boots hit the damp gravel path, each stride measured. You were on your morning run, five miles through the perimeter and back.

A week had passed since Moon had made herself at home in your quarters. In that time, she had filled out a bit, her patchy fur growing thicker, her ribs no longer so visible beneath the mottled calico pattern. She had settled in like she’d always belonged, claiming her spot at the foot of your bed each night and greeting you with slow blinks whenever you returned from missions.

No one had caught her yet, and you had every intention of keeping it that way.

You rounded the edge of the training field, the main complex coming into view again. Today marked another rotation and your squad would be returning from their off-week. You didn’t expect the atmosphere to change much. The past rotation had treated you about the same as your own, where some ignored you entirely and others had gone out of their way to inconvenience you with the usual petty bullshit.

Your training gear went missing more than once. Spells had been charmed onto your shower stall to turn the water cold. Someone had even sabotaged your boots, charming the soles just enough that your run left your knees aching for two days.

But you’d endured it, same as always.

You rounded the final stretch of your run, approaching the front of the base when something caught your eye. No, someone.

You nearly stopped mid-step.

Sebastian. But not Lieutenant Sallow. Not the sharply-dressed, tightly-controlled Auror you were used to seeing. This was Sebastian Sallow in civilian clothes.

Your mind blanked for a second.

He was walking toward the base, clearly just arriving, his posture relaxed in a way you’d never seen before. His usual dark uniform was gone, replaced by a charcoal henley and jeans. His hair was still a little damp, like he’d just showered before Flooing in.

You had always known he was handsome. Objectively. The sharp cut of his jaw, the intense, piercing gaze, the way his presence filled a room even when he wasn’t speaking. But now, without the uniform, without the weight of command hanging over him, he was…

His deep brown gaze met yours and unconsciously, your steps faltered. 

Sebastian noticed.

His brows furrowed, just a little, head tilting as if he wasn’t sure why you were looking at him like that. You weren’t sure why either.

Fuck.

You forced your legs to keep moving, gaze snapping forward, focusing on the pavement, the rhythm of your breathing, anything other than the way the top button of his shirt was undone, revealing that his freckles did, in fact, continue past his neck.

You returned to the barracks, heading inside to shower, hoping the scalding water would wash away the ridiculous thoughts lingering in your head. It was nothing. Just a stupid, fleeting moment. You had been running, your brain had been foggy, and you’d simply seen him in a different light for the first time. That was all.

You scrubbed your face, inhaling deeply. The warmth helped, at least, untangling the knots in your muscles, grounding you back in reality.

When you finally shut off the water, shaking droplets from your hair, you already knew what was coming.

Sure enough, as you stepped out, towel wrapped around you, your uniform was gone. Again.

Wordlessly, you crossed the room to a small, concealed gap between your locker and the wall. You reached into the narrow space, pulling out a second uniform—one they hadn’t found yet. You had started keeping spares tucked away in hidden places, just for moments like this.

Minutes later, fully dressed, boots laced, you made your way to breakfast.

The mess hall was already busy, Aurors filtering in and out, their voices a low, indistinct hum as you grabbed your tray. You scanned the room out of habit. And that’s when your brain decided to trip you up again.

Sebastian was still in civilian clothes.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself forward, keeping your expression neutral as you took a seat at the farthest available table.

You were busied yourself with your meal, focusing intently on your flavorless egg whites while very pointedly not looking at your lieutenant. Because if you did, your brain would do stupid things again, like acknowledge how good he looked or how different he seemed when he wasn’t standing in front of a briefing room, barking orders.

Then a shadow fell over your tray.

"You really eat this every morning?"

Sebastian’s voice was dry, edged with something judgmental.

You sighed through your nose. You’d gone through this conversation a hundred times. It didn’t matter what base you were stationed at, there was always someone who had a problem with your Ministry-mandated diet, as if it were some kind of privilege or like you had any say in the matter.

You didn’t look up. 

"It’s food."

"Debatable." Sebastian pulled out the chair across from you without asking, setting his coffee down with a quiet clink.

"...Can I help you, sir?"

Sebastian leaned back, tilting his head slightly. "Does that even taste like anything?"

You looked at him. Then at your food. Then back at him.

"Lieutenant, was there something you needed? Or did you just come over here to critique my breakfast?"

After a long, excruciating pause he said, "Briefing room. Twenty minutes. Don’t be late."

And then he was gone, coffee in hand, leaving you sitting there, staring after him with a frown.

You quickly finished breakfast, ignoring the quiet comments and sideways glances from the others in the mess hall. The shift in attention didn’t surprise you.  Any deviation from the usual routine was enough to get people talking, and Sebastian crossing the room just to speak to you certainly qualified.

When you stepped into the briefing room, Sebastian was still in his henley and jeans. Across from him, leaning against the table with arms crossed, was Hale.

You closed the door behind you and looked between them. "Alright," you started slowly. "What is this?"

Hale gestured for you to take a seat. "Undercover work."

Your frown deepened. "Undercover as what, exactly?"

"A civilian couple," she answered smoothly.

You blinked. "I’m sorry?"

"You heard me," Hale said. "Using the identities of some of the men you took out last mission, we've located a smuggler operating in Knockturn Alley. We suspect he’s got ties to one of the larger syndicates, but he’s careful. Doesn’t talk to anyone he suspects might be working with the Ministry."

"So you want us to…?"

"Pose as buyers," Hale finished. "Establish a rapport, see what he’s willing to let slip."

You leaned back slightly, letting the words sink in. "I assume I misheard you when you said ‘couple’?"

Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose. "Merlin, I knew this was going to be a pain in the ass."

Hale shot him a flat look before nodding at you. "No, you didn’t mishear. You’ll be going in as a pair. You need to appear close enough that he won’t question why you’re making a deal together."

You exhaled slowly. "And I’m going because...?"

Hale didn’t miss a beat. “Because of your accent.”

You stared at her. “My accent?”

“He’s got a working theory that British buyers are more likely to be Ministry plants.” She explained. “And you’re not British. It’ll just look like Lieutenant Sallow married a foreign girl, and our target won’t question a thing.”

Across the table, Sebastian muttered something under his breath, but you didn’t catch it. Probably for the best.

You glanced between them, lips pressing into a thin line. You were tempted to ask why they couldn’t just assign someone else who could fake an accent. Someone Sebastian Sallow actually got along with instead of forcing you to tolerate his disdain for you.

Instead you gave a curt nod. “Fine. When do we start?”

“This afternoon,” Hale said. “He works out of a safehouse disguised as an antique shop. We’ve set up identities for you both. You’ve got money and a forged contract.”

Sebastian crossed his arms. “And the whole ‘pretending to be into each other’ part? How far are we supposed to take that?”

“Convincing enough to get him talking,” Hale said evenly. “We don’t expect you to make out on the sales floor, but if you can’t act like you’ve shared a bed, it might raise alarm bells.”

You said nothing.

Sebastian muttered again, louder this time. “Bloody fantastic.”

“We’re on a tight schedule,” you said, changing the subject. “It’s already past ten. We’ll need time to study the covers, get our story straight, and—” you hesitated, glancing down at your uniform, “—I don’t own any civilian clothes.”

Sebastian looked at you like you’d just grown a second head. “You don’t own any?”

You leveled him with a flat look. “Where would I wear them, Lieutenant? The spell range?”

Hale, to her credit, didn’t flinch. She only nodded once and turned toward Sebastian. “You’ll take her. Get her something that looks like she didn’t just step out of the Ministry’s bootcamp.”

Sebastian groaned. “Oh fantastic. Shopping. Exactly how I wanted to spend my afternoon.”

You folded your arms. “Unless you’d rather I wear this.”

“I’d rather not get killed on sight, thanks.”

Hale slid a folder across the table toward you. “Your aliases are in there. You’ll study it on the way. He’s already expecting you, so your window is short. And remember,” she added, glancing between the two of you, “you need to look like you trust each other.

You flicked open the folder and scanned the top page. Names. Locations. Jobs.

Sebastian muttered something that sounded like unbelievable, and then pushed off the wall. “Fine. Let’s go.”

You stood, tucking the folder under your arm as you followed him out of the room. As the door shut behind you both, you could feel Hale’s words echoing in your head.

Look like you trust each other.

Right. That would be easy. You and Sebastian Sallow.

A perfect match.

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Top Jobs You Can Land After Completing a Machine Learning Course in London

As technology continues to reshape industries, Machine Learning (ML) has become one of the most sought-after skills globally. Whether you're a student looking to break into tech or a professional aiming to future-proof your career, enrolling in a Machine Learning Course in London opens the door to some of the most lucrative and high-impact job opportunities available today.

With London's status as a global tech hub—home to world-class universities, tech startups, and multinational firms—completing your ML training here can give you a competitive edge in the job market. In this article, we’ll explore the top career paths you can pursue after completing a Machine Learning course in London, the responsibilities involved, average salary expectations, and the key skills needed for each role.

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Final Thoughts

A Machine Learning Course in London is more than just an academic credential — it’s a launchpad into a future-facing career. With the UK tech industry booming and London standing as a major AI innovation center, your training here will equip you with both skills and opportunities.

Whether your interests lie in coding intelligent systems, analyzing data, building chatbots, or managing AI products, the job landscape post-course is rich and expanding. The key is to build a strong portfolio, stay curious, and leverage London’s vibrant tech ecosystem to connect with employers and collaborators.

[anincompletelist]

2025 wips!

hi all! :D

very low pressure tag to everyone (open tag as well!) to share what you're working on in 2025! I've hit a bit of a wall and need to get organized, and even though most of my fics are impromptu 4am ramblings, I figured I'd hold myself accountable here and make it into a game of sorts for anyone who might be inclined to do the same.

I hope you've all had a lovely new year so far! x

*obligatory slightly nsfw warning*

ex-marine henry

after being dishonorably discharged from his position in the royal marines that he never truly wanted in the first place, henry finds himself adrift, hoping to start anew in the states. he meets alex, a younger, freshly divorced lawyer with whom it appears at first he has nothing in common with, but soon finds much more than he bargained for as they embark on an at times tumultuous but ultimately fulfilling fifteen-year relationship, navigating the threads of vulnerability, grief, friendship, and love.

rejected soulmates support group

the world has begun to move past the singular thinking that one is incomplete without their soulmate. henry knows that many people live long, fulfilling lives on their own or with a partner that might not have been fate's first choice for them. but at heart he's always been a hopeless romantic, and when fate decides to take his soulmate's life before they've even met one another yet on the tail end of the still-raw grief of losing his father, it feels as if the world is against him. lonely and lost, henry reluctantly seeks out support in the form of a small group that meets once a week, each member bringing their own perspective of loss to the circle. he'd thought he'd decided on staying alone for the rest of his life, but alex, a kind, curious empath with plenty of baggage of his own, might be the fresh perspective he needs to give love another try.

the simple life au

as part of their damage control tour, alex and henry are forced to take part in a reboot of the show 'The Simple Life' with a twist -- they'll spend five episodes between texas and washington and five in the uk, taking turns learning what each other's day-to-day looks like. between the press junkets and lazy rivers in the states and the ballrooms and etiquette training in london, both of them find themselves with more empathy for the other than they'd anticipated. the cameras capture not only their fast friendship but the beginning of a burgeoning, unexpected romance as well, defying their initial objective and sparking tentative optimism for a previously impossible future. they're still far from free, though, as both countries have their best interests in mind and full control over what narrative is aired to the world. it's going to take a leap of faith to make it work, but alex is more than ready to show henry how to jump.

speak easy

alex, a computer science major, has never met a number he didn't like. until he starts failing the poetry section of his mandatory english course. encouraged to seek out a tutor, his professor points him toward henry, a known writer and fellow student that always seems to evade alex's attempts to get to know him more deeply. henry leads him through his own self-proclaimed five step program to becoming a 'poet', strengthening his voice and ultimately helping him pass the course. but finding his voice means visiting parts of himself that alex had previously kept locked up tight or hadn't even known were there in the first place, and sharing his realizations with henry forms a bond between them that not even the journals-full of prose passed back and forth can scratch the surface of. that won't stop him from trying, though.

+

detroit become human inspired au

henry and pez run a safe haven for those who were once machines, deemed faulty for having developed genuine humanity and facing imminent decommission if found out. the next evaluation is in less than 24 hours, and alex's humanity is at 94%. luckily, he makes it to henry just in time.

midnight cowboy

alex, the lead singer of the widely known and highly acclaimed band midnight cowboy, is henry's biggest guilty pleasure—which is saying quite a lot. as a professional escort for the rich and elite, almost none of his pleasure is guilty these days. it feels like a fever dream when he gets the request from alex himself asking to spend a night together. he's long since being anyone's experiment, but with alex, unfortunately, henry finds he enjoys the idea of being some kind of first. (is 'only' too much to ask for?)

gynecologist henry

alex has done the college thing. the dream job thing. the casual, short term relationship thing. on paper, he has everything he ever said he wanted. it'd just be nice if he had someone to share it with sometimes. it'd be even nicer if his sister would stop trying to set him up with her gynecologist, who evidently finds himself in the same position.

+1 for the let's talk about sex! series

henry attends therapy in brooklyn once alex has moved in and things have slowed down a bit. it's predictably difficult but for the better, until they begin to cover the topic of his past relationships -- more specifically, sex. facing realizations that can no longer be shoved away, henry confides in alex and they reevaluate what intimacy might look like for them in the wake of healing from trauma.

+2 for the let's talk about sex! series

henry has to switch antidepressants and worries that his decreased libido will cause issues with his and alex's active sex life.

+3 for the let's talk about sex! series

henry arrives home early one night to find alex touching himself, which prompts a conversation about alex's past partners, misplaced shame, and self-pleasure within intimate relationships.

chauffeur alex

alex is the personal driver for henry, secret writer and infamous royal who'd abdicated and come to the states in his 20's to live freely and to marry his husband. now in his near-forties, the glamour and novelty of his story having long since worn off alongside his failing marriage, henry finds that alex is the only one he can confide in without fear -- and who is convinced that henry deserves so much more than he's getting. the last thing either of them need is to get feelings involved, but neither can say they tried as hard as they should've to have stopped them.

+

texan slang +1's

henry's been learning spanish already for the last few years in an effort to connect more with alex and his family. he did not, however, prepare for the myriad of texan-ism's that he encounters once they're back in austin, which is beginning to seem like a language all its own.

aftercare (+4 for the let's talk about sex! series)

neither alex nor henry have been in a serious relationship before and are unfamiliar with aftercare since it isn’t something they had with their previous partners. after a particularly intimate and intense round of lovemaking, they find themselves both feeling a little lost and restless, leading to a conversation about how they can best be there for each other after sex going forward. 

bottoming 101 (+5 for the let's talk about sex! series)

alex wants to bottom for the first time post-canon. henry walks him through the process—even the not-so-glamorous parts—and alex experiences a newfound appreciation for the previously unknown efforts that they go to to express their love.

dom bottom alex

self explanatory, really.

.

plus probably a lot of random ideas and/or add-on's to current series!

.

.

.

tags (no pressure!):

@kiwiana-writes @rmd-writes @everwitch-magiks @run-for-chamo-miles @firenati0n

@zwiazdziarka @miharaikko @littlemisskittentoes @judasofsuburbia @anchoredarchangel

@suseagull5914 @porcelainmortal @nocoastposts @clockwrkpendrxgon @sophie1973

@iboatedhere @getmehighonmagic @smc-27 @cha-melodius @tintagel-or-cockleshells

@caterpills @eusuntgratie @inexplicablymine @happiness-of-the-pursuit @sparklepocalypse

@hgejfmw-hgejhsf @wordsofhoneydew @cricketnationrise @whimsymanaged @myheartalivewrites

@junebugclaremontdiaz @hypnostheory @blueeyedgrlwrites @futureseaempress @ninzied

@tinyarmedtrex @dizzymisslizzie @clottedcreamfudge @kj-bee @largepeachicedtea

@miss-minnelli @bananzie @starrypiscesao3 @fairflowered @4rthurfox

+ OPEN TAG please feel free to join in, and also if you're an artist feel free to modify it to include what art you're excited to make in 2025!

see you all soon! x

[thoughtsfromlayla]

Lady Luck is Smiling - Chapter Two

.☘︎ ݁˖ Misericors Fortuna Adiuvat - Fortuna favors the compassionate.

Summary: When the Fates leave Morpheus' call unanswered, he gains insight into another goddess that may be able to help regain his lost tools. Lady Luck, as you go by now as opposed to Fortuna nor Tyche, is the second youngest of the Four Ladies. Morpheus is determined to learn how and what makes you smile, for your smile will allow luck to be on his side, and with any of it, will he find his tools.

Warnings/Tags: None

Word Count: 2.3k

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•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Morpheus squints at the bright screen in front of him, the sound of machines beeping in the background. His shoes feel sticky and the air smells like grease and salt. Also, the scent of something like bathroom soap keeps hitting the soft palate in the back of his mouth.

“Yeah, the number #3 burger meal,” you say to the cashier up front, your fingers pointing at the illuminated menu option. 

The poor girl looks no older than 20, her eyebags deep as the two of you stop by a random fast food joint at 3 in the morning. Well, it is more like you are stopping by a random fast food joint, and Morpheus follows you begrudgingly. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, and neither did you want to tease him about it, he did need your help. If that means having to follow instead of lead for once, then so be it. 

“What do you want?” You ask, turning to the brooding man. 

“None for me.”

“He’ll take some chicken nuggets, no meal. Just the nuggies.” You turn back to the register, your hand going to pat at your pockets. 

“It’s 15.36,” the woman says, voice tired. 

“Right, um,” you panic, feeling no cash or card on your body. You turn to Morpheus with your hand out. 

“You forgot to bring the appropriate currency?”

“Someone didn’t let me prepare before whisking me away!” Your open palm turns into an annoyed fist. “Never mind, forget the order.” You give the worker an empathetic smile for wasting her time. 

Something shifts in the air, the magics of the universe working. It seems as if something glimmers across the young woman’s eyes before she speaks again. “No worries, given how late it is, I’ll give it to you. On the house.” 

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you agree happily. 

Morpheus casts you a disappointing glance down from his nose.

“What?” You exclaim, your shoulders rising in offense. “All I’ve had to eat today, well maybe it was yesterday, was bad beer and table peanuts.”

“Was it truly necessary? We have a schedule,” Morpheus prompts, reflecting back on your graced smile. 

“Schedule, geez do you know how utterly English you sound?” You mock instead, lightly of course, lest you find yourself on the bad side of one of the Endless. “Sheh-duel,” you mimic his deep voice poorly. “That’s what you sound like.”

“Lady Luck,” Morpheus begins again, almost a warning but it goes way over your head, practically into the stratosphere. 

“Also, it’s your ske-jool, not mine, and may I remind you who is requiring who’s help?” Your accusing finger points from Morpheus before slowly turning towards your chest. “Oh, look at that, it’s me you need help from!”

It’s like you can see steam coming out of Morpheus’ ears and with your own giddy laugh, you turn to grab your #3 burger meal and nuggets. You leave the establishment, Morpheus trailing behind you like a loyal shadow full of vexation. 

The crisp and always rainy London night air greets you, or should it be considered early morning? No, it’s 3am so it’s nighttime. It’s not considered early morning until 4am, at least. You nod to yourself, mind made up with that little mental conclusion.

You rumble through the thin paper bag as you look for your order, your stomach rumbling for some good old, poorly made, overcooked, and yet somehow greasy burger.

“Ooo, bag fry,” you say excitedly, grabbing the few escaped fries that fell to the bottom of the bag. “And your nuggets.” You hand Morpheus his small box of chicken nuggets but he doesn’t take them. 

“Okay, fine, but you’re wasting perfectly adequate, slightly dry, not so crunchy, free nuggets,” you relent after his seconds of droning silence. You wave the greasy box in front of Morpheus again with a teasing smile, but alas he doesn’t take the bait. 

“Well, my night’s just keep getting better,” a familiar voice calls out, echoing across the stone pavilion.

You squint in the dim light as the person comes forth. Well, how should one describe a person? A mortal with a heart and soul, perhaps? If that is the case, then this is no person at all. 

“Mad Hettie?” You blink just to make sure. 

Hettie came closer to you with a smile, her umbrella closed and used as a cane, the tool snapping on the ground with each step closer. “Lady Luck, you have graced me with your presence.”

‘Ooooh, your presence. So formal and regal like who you pretend to be.’ 

“Eh…” you shrug. It was just a coincidence, not much of a grace. An awkward silence passes between you two before you speak again. “And, uh, Morpheus, he’s here, too.” 

You turn to introduce the two, even though you’re sure Morpheus knows about Hettie anyway. However, when you turn, Morpheus is simply gone. Your eyes dart one way and swipe across the petrichor-smelling plaza but no matter how hard you squint at a few particular shadows, none of them are Morpheus. 

“He was here,” you correct yourself to Hettie. 

“Fleeting like sand in the wind, I’m afraid.” Hettie doesn’t seem mad at his sudden disappearance; rather, she was relieved—if you could deduce that much from the pinch in her eyebrows. You give another shrug and a fond smile in agreement when a cabbie pulls up. 

A cream wool-styled trench coat greets you, then a head of black hair and a familiar round and warm face. And you’d recognize that cocky flip of the collar anywhere. 

“Johanna Constantine,” both you and Hettie call out, though yours is more of a shock than a statement. 

“Lady Luck, Hettie,” Johanna says with a sly quirk on her lips. The greeting is short and sweet before the exorcist turns to you. “I seem to remember beating you in a game of Blackjack a few years back, my Lady.”

“Wow, you did not have to rub that in. I’m trying to make myself look presentable here in front of Hettie, you know?” You reply jokingly, though the sting of defeat is admittedly freshly cut open.

You lost something of great value in that game and it still hasn’t resurfaced yet. Though it is entirely possible that Johanna simply held onto it, being a collector of magical items herself. 

“He’s back, did you know?” Hettie suddenly cuts in, ignoring your little moment. 

“Who?” Johanna questions. 

“Morpheus,” Hettie replies, emphasizing the name. You take another look around the plaza; maybe he decided to make his presence known again. “The oneiromancer? You know, the Sandman, he’s back.”

“He collects names and titles like they’re Pokémon,” you chortle, stuffing a few more fries in your mouth. Mmm, salt. 

“Fairy stories,” Johanna brushes off quickly and you quirk an eyebrow at her. You’re standing right in front of her, what were you then? A campfire sing-along?

“Doesn’t matter what you think, but I know. I know that he’s back and he wants his sand.” 

You frown, turning your attention to Hettie now. “And how would you know about that?”

“I’m 280 years old, I just know.” Johanna has already walked away, heading towards the church as you and Hettie start to bicker. 

“Age is not relevant, I’m goddamn a thousand and some years old and I didn’t know until, like,” you count the hours in your head mentally, “I don’t know, 4 hours ago?”

“Perhaps the Lady should not hide away from the natural news of the world in her magical casino, using her powers to win materialistic things,” Hettie bites back, playfully hitting your ankle with the tip of her umbrella. 

“Ay!” You jump out of the way. “You know what, I was going to give you Morpheus’ nuggets but you just lost that privilege. I do not run away from my responsibilities,” you scoff, the brown paper bag of fast food crumpling in your arms as you cross them. You’re so deep in your conversation with Hettie that you don’t even notice that Morpheus has made his grand reappearance, presenting himself to Johanna. 

“Sure,” Hettie grins at you, like a grandma catching the little ones with their hands in the cookie jar. “And I have a heart.”

“You want me to start telling Death of the Endless where it is? I’ve got connections.” You threaten playfully. “I’ll give her a lucky tip.”

“Why… How rude!” Hettie gasps, a dramatic hand placed over her chest when you laugh. “You should get going, though. I think those two are about to get into some trouble.”

Hettie points behind you, motioning at Johanna heading into the church and Morpheus staring at her retreating form. “And how would you know?” You ask even though you know the answer already. 

“I just know.” 

You roll your eyes, waving goodbye to Hettie before catching up to Morpheus on the top of the stairs. 

“She knows,” Morpheus grumbles out, his eyes squinting with suspicion. 

Your eyes, however, only roll to the back of your head. “Yes, I am starting to get that everyone knows. You know, Hettie knows, Johanna knows. Knows what?” You finally snap. 

“She knows where my sand is.”

Morpheus saunters into the church, his shoes making no sound on the pavement. Morpheus thinks about your inherent luck; smiling at the fast food worker to get a free meal, being giddy about a hamburger leads him to Mad Hettie, and Mad Hettie leads them to Johanna Constantine. 

Enlisting your help was the correct call after all. Even if it meant having to deal with your randomness, but that’s just that isn’t it? Luck is random, it is a coincidence, with no rhyme or reason. 

“Ugh, rotten eggs,” you grimace, stuffing your nose into the brown paper bag of unfinished fast food. 

“Sulfur,” Morpheus corrects simply as you two enter the church. 

The sound of muffled chanting and crying is heard down the corridor as you two make your way towards the main hall. You don’t stop the critical look you give the demon as it stands on its goat feet, feathers decorating its legs. 

“Pretty art, though,” you smile to yourself as your eyes scan across the mural behind the candlelit altar.

If there was one thing the Catholics knew how to do correctly, it was building pretty churches and making sweet murals. That and knowing how to correctly write demon-banishing spells. The demon that Johanna was trying to exorcise is like a goddamn tree. At least twice your height.

“Tell me your name and I’ll stop talking,” Johanna challenges.

A shiny candelabra catches your attention. The detailing of swirling vines and blooming morning glories casted in gold glints in the candlelight. A single wax candle sticks to it, effusing a scent of honey. 

Honey…

Your tongue darts out and licks it. Yup. Honey. Also, kinda waxy but that is expected, you suppose. 

“His name is Agilieth,” Morpheus says suddenly, his voice even and controlled. He saw your odd little experiment but decided not to comment on it. Who is he to judge the embodiment of chance and the otherwise unpredictability of the goddess of luck?

‘Start paying attention, dipshit.’ 

“I am flattered you remembered me, Lord Morpheus, after all of your time away.” Both Agilieth and Johanna turn to him, the mortal’s face dropping in slight shock. “And you, Lady Luck, perhaps you may grant me immunity tonight?”

“Perhaps not,” you murmur under your breath. 

“Lord Morpheus?” Johanna questions, the brief conversation she held with you and Hettie starting to float to the forefront of her mind.

“He is,” Agilieth confirms. “Though he is hard to recognize without his helm. I wonder where it could be?” 

You quirk your head to the side at the demon’s teasing comment, and it doesn’t take long to understand. Demons aren’t smart, they’re just petty and know how to abide by contracts. If you were to pick a fight between a demon and a fairy, Hell, you would choose the demon any day. 

“I presume it is in Hell,” Morpheus says, coming to the same conclusion as you.

“Yes,” Agilieth almost hisses out. “But where, with who, or what?”

“I do not need to know,” Morpheus states and Agilieth’s eyes dart over to you.

“Luck serves no purpose in Hell. Despair and anguish is all that is there,” Agilieth warns, sensing Morpheus’ plan to enlist your help again. “Give me the princess to be married and I can tell you the exact demon who holds your helm. No loopholes, no surprises. Those are the terms of my contract.”

 “Exi ergo, Agilieth.” Johanna begins to chant before Morpheus even considers the contract. “Plene omni dolo et fallacia, virtutis inimici, innocentium persecutor, Agilieth.”

“Constantine, stop!” Morpheus shouts, voice lacing with panic over the fiery ropes that begin to circle around the demon. The floor starts to melt, the tile turning into molten lava as the Agileith feels the fiery smokes of hell beginning to drag him back down. 

“Wait, Johanna,” you join in on Morpheus’ protests, starting to walk towards the exorcist. It’s true, Luck serves no purpose in Hell and if that’s where you’re going next—well, shit, you don’t even want to go there!

“Stop, Dream of the Endless has commanded you to stop,” Agilieth says quickly. His muscles tense as he tries to fight the fiery ropes, pulling at them even as it singes into his skin. “Lady Luck has demanded you to stop!”

“Visita, quaesumus, Domine!” Johanna finishes and if it isn’t for the singeing feeling of your eyebrows, you would’ve never guessed there used to be a demon before you. 

The church returns to normal, the waxed tiles cooling back into solid ground. 

“Damn,” you mutter. But, at least it doesn’t smell like farts anymore. 

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Can you tell I was craving a burger when I wrote this? But nooo, there's no more 24/7 McDonald's anymore smh

Also, a shoutout to this Reddit post that transcribed Constantine's entire exorcism spell. Praise it be thine name random stranger.

Thanks for reading!

♡ Yours, Layla

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

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