Hi everyone! For the past several months, I've been working on a long form fanfic (The Wildflower), inspired by both Close My Eyes (1991) and Snow Cake (2006). I absolutely love both films, so I decided to write a fanfic where both of my favourite Alan Rickman characters - Sinclair Bryant and Alex Hughes - could be featured in.
I wasn't sure about posting individual chapters here (considering I'm quite a slow writer lol), so I've decided to create a direct link to my fic on AO3. Please bear in mind it's still a work in progress, and I'll try my best to update it as much as I can.
If you're interested in reading what I've wrote so far, please feel free to check it out below:
➡️ The Wildflower on AO3 ⬅️
Due to scrapping scandal that took place earlier this year (unfortunately my works fell victim to the dataset that was captured), only registered accounts can access the fic. I'll try to post each chapter individually soon. Hope you'll like what I've been working on🎀
P.S. these GIFs by @smilingformoney are incredible by the way 🩵
happy pride month to those in the closet. to those who went back into the closet. to those who have unsupportive families, friends and relationships. those who were bullied and harassed because of their identity. those who were killed because of who they truly were and loved.
That request was me btw! I didn't mean to send it anon 😭
Second Chance at Happiness
🌸Requested by: @nonscathingbullets
🌸Pairing: Sinclair Bryant x plus size! f!reader
🌸Catergory: fluff
🌸Plot: Sinclair plans a special surprise for his longtime girlfriend
🌸Warning: brief comments on eating habits / plus-size bodies
🌸Word Count: 3.7 K
🌸Note: I finally got around to completing my very first request! I took my time working on this, as I wanted to make sure I did not accidentally offend anyone. I tried to stay true to your request (the most recent post that I answered)
Read it here on AO3 or below the break:
There was a time Sinclair was convinced he had it all: The inheritance that ensured him and his future generations will be set for years to come. The mansion in the English Countryside. The classic, luxury motor vehicle collection. The first editions of several pieces of classic literature. His successful career, working in the corporate world as a business analyst (specialising in forecast trends). And most importantly, Natalie; the beguiling wife any man could ever ask for. Life was perfect…up until three years ago.
Not once did he ever anticipate the one day he would eventually become a divorcé, no thanks to Natalie’s infidelity. The worst part of it all, neither one could disclose the true reason behind their separation. The only time they both came to an agreement (apart from the moment they exchanged their vows) was to declare “irreconcilable differences” during the proceedings as the reason, as opposed to adultery. No one would have believed him if he told the unadulterated truth.
Even his cousin, Lord Lionel Shabandar, the snarky-yet-sarcastic billionaire media mogul, the only person who truly knew him better than his own parents, understood there was more to the story than he led on. God knows how people would have reacted if they had discovered Natalie’s affair with her own brother!
“Bloody ironic, isn’t it?” He would mutter whenever he had a moment to himself. There were days where he would find himself scrutinising over ever little detail that led to the deterioration of his marriage; trying to figure out exactly where did things go wrong.
“You call yourself an analyst. Your special talent consists of making informed predictions for your clients; guaranteeing they make conscientious decisions that lead to successful outcomes. Yet, you failed to foresee the inevitable collapse of your own marriage, you blithering idiot!”
The minuscule voice in his head would regularly taunt—no, haunt him—for months leading up to the divorce, and a few more afterwards. Sometimes going as far as insulting himself and highlighting his failures in general. However, none of that was true. He knew he wasn’t entirely at fault. Deep down he knew that, yet the negative thoughts would eventually win. In fact, the one to blame was none other than his cheating ex-wife; for it was her decision to engage in an extramarital affair. A scandalous dalliance so taboo, had it been revealed, it would have brought upon severe repercussions to his reputation.
Think about it: Who knows what type of spurious lies would had be fabricated if people had discovered the real reason behind their decision to dissolve the marriage? Nobody would understand—is what he had assumed. The only ones who swore to take this to their graves were him, Natalie and Richard. Absolutely no one would ever find out…that is until he met you.
You first became acquainted with Sinclair five years prior, when he was considered a newlywed. Him and Natalie were the newest residents of Marlow, and news travelled fast when they became the new homeowners of the grand estate— the one located directly upon the banks of the Henley-on-Thames. Shortly after they settled into the quaint town, Sinclair made it his mission to familiarise himself with the locals, as well as the various points of interest around town. Of all the shops, he found himself drawn to the only Blockbuster rental—which also happens to be your workplace.
At the time, you never expected a man like him—highly educated, minted, refined and devastatingly handsome—would have a penchant for renting out worn out VHS tapes, as opposed to simply collecting his own copies. It didn’t take long for him to become a regular (if not, your most loyal) customer, which cultivated in an unlikely friendship culminating along the way.
Perhaps it was his love for cinema, along with an appreciation for the arts and literature, that attracted him to you when you two became acquainted. That being said, you did find your friendship with a married man highly unusual at the time, for a number of reasons, of course.
For starters, you’ve wondered why, of all the men in Marlow, would someone like Sinclair Bryant would take an interest in you. Despite being married to a woman who was conventionally beautiful in accordance to societal standards.
Petite, blonde, fair skinned and most importantly, skinny: that was the type of woman Sinclair had been in past relationships with. You, on the other hand, were the complete opposite to his former partners. Voluptuous figure, with all the curves in the right places; a soft stomach, and round yet soft facial features. Little did you know, Sinclair became smitten with you the moment he met you.
It shouldn’t come as a surprise when Sinclair began to notice you, really notice you. So much so, his weekly visits to your workplace were the main highlight of his week. His visits became a weekly necessity of his, stopping by at the shop every two or three days. Sometimes he would rent a few films, other times he simply wanted to see you. The way he would pay attention to you and ask genuine questions. How he would make mental notes on things you liked or disliked. What made you feel hopeful, and what could cause you any distress (which he made it his personal mission to prevent any harm for coming your way). The more he grew close to you—despite the ongoing divorce—the harder he continued to fall more in love with you.
The visits would lead to the pair of you spending more time outside of the shop. Monthly outings to the multiple history and art museums, others involved trying out new bakeries. Most of the time, you and Sinclair preferred spending time on his estate: from the occasional ferry rides captained by Fernando, the casual afternoon tea with his closest friends, spending time bonding over books and films in the comfort of his home.
It certainly took you by surprise when the pair of you cultivated a friendship over time. Despite the obvious socio-economic backgrounds you had compare to him, Sinclair went out of his way to prove to you it would not never deter him from ever wanting to distance himself. On the contrary, he appreciated that you never felt awkward that a man of his social stature wanted to associate himself with someone who did not come from generational wealth like him. Unbeknownst to you, Sinclair’s sunny disposition gradually improved over time. It was you who helped reignite the spark—snuffed out by his cruel ex-wife—he thought he lost.
You were the only person who sympathised with his plight, the only person he felt most comfortable admitting the truth to. And when he finally revealed the unspeakable truth behind Natalie’s infidelity, it was your composed reaction and reassurance that reminded him how was never at fault for his failed marriage. This was the juncture of your friendship, Sinclair Bryant understood his affections for you were no longer infatuation; it was the confirmation of how he truly loved you.
Perhaps it was this realisation that resulted in his sudden disappearance. How one moment allowed him to be completely completely honest with you, led him to distance himself from you. There were times you thought you were the problem—oh, wrong you could possibly be. The truth in the matter was, he needed to devote all his time and energy, ensuring his divorce was finalised before he could confess his truly feelings. He needed to be convinced no one would ever come between you; not even Natalie. He made a promise to himself to dedicate his life in chasing the one person who made him happy: you.
It had only been a few weeks when the divorce was finalised, which was the first time (apart from going to work and home) Sinclair decided to resurface back into society once again. And so, he paid a visit to the local Blockbuster to rent a few tapes to watch over the weekend—the very Blockbuster you worked at. Although you were heartbroken by his sudden departure and the radio silence from him several weeks ago, a part of you was relieved to see him resurface once again.
Despite the anger you harboured for a while, that didn’t matter when you confessed your supposed, unrequited feelings.
At the same time, he had no idea of the budding crush you had developed for him. Out of all the customers that stopped by, he was the only one who truly respected you. There were times he would go out of his way to defend you whenever other patrons would hurl rude comments regarding your physical appearance.
Even though you’ve never had an issue standing up for yourself, it always made you feel giddy inside whenever Sinclair came to your defence. In the past, whenever Natalie would make disparaging remarks about your weight; even going as far to warn him that he could ‘end up like you if doesn’t watch his figure’.
Despite the fact that you’ve grown accustomed to the fat-shaming remarks you’ve received over the years (and how you’ve always brushed them off with grace), it always warmed your heart observing him admonishing his cruel wife. And out of that friendship, an affectionate relationship between you two began to blossom not long after. From what you assumed to be unrequited feelings you had, turned into mutual reciprocation shortly after the divorce.
And here you were, three years since his divorce from Natalie, and approaching the two-year anniversary of your relationship with him. You never thought a man like Sinclair Bryant would ever consider being in a relationship with someone with a fuller physique; someone like yours.
At times, you do wonder how your life turned out like this. How you became attached to the most eligible bachelor—divorcé—in all of Marlow. How he fell head over heels for you; let alone wonder how special he made you feel.
Of course, not every relationship is perfect. Unfortunately, both you and Sinclair weren’t an exception. The intermittent stares and snide remarks from strangers alike caught up to you at times—even though you’d reassure him it had no effect on you.
Whenever you experienced fleeting moments of self-doubts, Sinclair would always say, “It’s not the physical appearance that’s worth focusing on. Rather, it’s the personality that truly matters to me. You, my darling [Y/N], will always be beautiful in my eyes—both inside and out.” And you knew that would always brighten up your mood, just a bit more; followed by showers of kisses he would give you.
You would wonder what he meant by that, considering how you would interpret the statement as vague. Even though you’ve always felt comfortable in your own skin—with your curvaceous hips and voluptuous figure—a part you would make you feel, somewhat apprehensive about his true motives. In other words, why would someone like Sinclair desire to be in a committed relationship with a heavier woman?
There is one thing you had always admired about him was his eagerness to impart several interesting facts about whatever topic had piqued his curiosity throughout the day. Whether it would be learning something new about the history of cinema, or something as insignificant about topics you never paid attention to. Yet, there was one interesting fact that he would never tire of bringing up in conversation, especially whenever you were with close friends: his admiration of Venus at the Mirror, 1613-14 by Peter Paul Rubens. With that particular painting, he would always explain Rubens’s affinity for painting curvy women in his sensual artworks; and how he would refers to you as his muse, his very own Venus.
The morning commenced as usual, with the exception being how unusually quiet Sinclair was during breakfast. Unless he’s scoffing down his favourite foods, or talking about an interesting fact he stumbled upon at work the other day, he’s never this quiet. Not when he is lost in his thoughts.
“Is everything alright, my love?” You asked, effectively bringing him back to reality.
“Sorry, what was that? Uh, yes, everything’s fine.”
“Are you sure?"
“Of course darling, my mind is simply occupied by the emergency I have to sort out at work this morning,” he kissed the back of your hand, reassuring you that everything was alright.
“In the meantime, why don’t you spend the day treating yourself to whatever you desire, hm? Perhaps you might like to indulge at a spa treatment for the day, maybe obtaining a new dress of your choosing for tonight?”
“Is there an event we expected to attend tonight?” You asked, your expression appearing to be visibly puzzled.
“Other that us commemorating our two-year anniversary together? No, none that I’m aware of.”
“Alright then. It’s clear to me you have a plan up your sleeve. Anyways, I’ll leave you to it, preparing whatever it is you might have in mind for tonight.”
“Thank you darling,” he kissed you, as you prepared to head out. “Oh, and one more thing: Do you mind popping into the bakery on your way back home this afternoon my love? I have a sense you will love what I’ve ordered for us later.”
By the time you returned home, you couldn’t help wondering exactly what he had in mind regarding your anniversary. Could it be a late-dinner reservation at the restaurant where he took you on your first date? What about an evening performance at the West End, and spending the night in London for a change of scenery? Or did he plan something more elaborate? You were yet to find out, as you glanced down at your new dress, hoping he would love your surprise outfit.
As expected, he was enamoured by the final reveal as he greeted you at the entrance; dashing with a black tie ensemble accompanied by a colossal bouquet of roses in hand. You on the other hand, dressed in a midnight-blue satin evening gown, accompanied by a plunging A-line, accentuating your curves in all the right places. You even took it further by getting a makeover—something you rarely do—even though Sinclair admired your natural form.
“[Y/N]…you, uh, you look…” he stumbled on his words, in a poor attempt to articulate his thoughts. His initial reaction led to your cheeks blushing at his sincerity.
“Do I look okay?” You murmured, your eyes shied, glancing down at your shoes.
“You look positively radiant, my love,” he confessed, while he pressed his lips to your temple with tenderness. “I have a special surprise waiting for you in the garden, but you are required to close your eyes before I can reveal what it is. Let me take this first, and then I’ll lead to the surprise.”
You nodded while he took the confectionary box from your hands, and carried it into the kitchen, imparting muttered instructions to the housekeeper in the distance. He resurfaced not long after, since it was time for him to finally reveal his surprise.
“Promise me one thing, [Y/N]; no peeking whatsoever,” he whispered sensually into your ear, the sound of his low-pitched voice could be felt pulsating throughout your body.
“Pinky promise, my love,” you guaranteed, just as he placed his large hands in front of your eyes—ensuring total coverage without messing up your makeup. He guided you through the house, passing the through the kitchen and dining room; until you arrived at the conservatory leading into the garden.
“When you’re ready, open your eyes darling.”
And staying true to tradition, Sinclair planned the celebration in a way he understood you would love: a starry night picnic in the garden at the home you share with him. The setup was spectacular; an outdoor theatre, coupled by Italian string lights draped overhead, creating a canopy of a soft glow above. There was a table dedicated to the cheese and chocolate fondue fountains with all your favourite toppings to indulge in. The music was playing softly in the background, with a playlist filled with song you would dance to with him—a reminder of the late night slow dancing sessions. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect, just for you.
“You did all of this?” You choked back the tears of joy, at the same time, you were taking in the scenery. The sunset stretched out an amber incandescence over the scenery.
“Of course I did. To commemorate our second anniversary together. To be fair darling, I did receive a bit of help setting up everything,” he confessed, the back of his hand caressing your cheek.
“That explains the unusual silence from you this morning, as well as your eagerness to rid of me for the day. I must admit, you were pretty convincing at keeping this a secret.”
“That wasn’t my intention, I promise. You know how awful I am at keeping surprises from you, [Y/N]. And to tell you the truth, I had already told my secretary to clear my schedule for the rest of the week.”
“Oh Sinclair…” your voice trailed off. “You really shouldn’t have gone through all this trouble. I mean, taking the time to organise such a spectacular evening for someone like me…”
“I don’t like how you talk down on yourself like that,” he said. “Do not, for one second, convince yourself that you’re not attractive; let alone think you not worthy of all of this. Just because society decided a woman such as yourself is not considered the archetype for what conventional beauty looks like, will never not be beautiful in my eyes. If I can see that, why can’t you?”
“It’s not that I do not necessarily agree with you, Clair,” you hesitated. “As much as I love you—and I truly do— it does concern me, regarding your feelings about what other people will always have to say about us. About you.”
He took your hand in his, and placed a tender kiss on it. His hazel eyes glimmered under the warm glow of the lights; making his eyes appear golden in the light, and responded, “You can be rest assured, my darling, there’s no need for you to worry about me. Ever. That is my responsibility. As your partner, my goal is to ensure you get to achieve all of your dreams and desires; no matter how significance. You make me happy in ways no other person could. I never fully understood the concept of what genuine love felt like—that is until I met you…”
The one thing you never thought to anticipate finally happened; watching the man you’ve come to love over the years, propping himself on one knee with a small blue velvet box surfacing from his pocket. Your eyes widen in awe as he opened the case; the contents revealed a stunning, princess-cut sapphire engagement ring.
“…and to prove all my loving encouragement for you has been nothing but true, I was hoping you legitimise it by spending the rest of our lives together. Make me the happiest man alive. Will you marry me, [Y/N] [L/N]?”
The words were caught in your breath. At the same time, you tried to prevent the tears from trickling down your cheeks, fearing it would ruin your makeup. However…it wouldn’t matter, anyways. The glimmer in your eyes coupled with the prickling tears, were the confirmation that he needed (if only he could tell in that very moment).
“That is only if it’s what you desire, of course. The last thing I want is to pressure you into—”
“—Yes, yes, YES! I’ll marry you, Sinclair Bryant!” You squealed in ecstasy, unable to maintain your composure, as you leaned in close for an affectionate embrace. He let out an exasperated sigh of relief—deep down he hoped you would agree to his proposal. His racing heartbeat steadied as your lips met his for a heartfelt kiss.
“May I?” He let out a low, baritonal murmur, as he presented the ring once more. You nodded, barely trying to contain your excitement as he took your soft hand in his, and settled the engagement ring in its rightful place. Not only had you never anticipated this day would come to fruition, yet everything that led you to this exact moment has finally come true.
“I took one of your rings from your personal collection a few months ago,” Sinclair let out a nervous chuckle, barely paying any attention to his reddening cheeks. “I had this night perfectly mapped out in my head. I wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you; that included seeing to it that you might like the design I chose for you…”
You stood on your tiptoe to settle a small kiss on his cheek, effectively leaving a deep crimson mark. A simple lip stain, reminding him of the love you have always possessed for him.
“It’s absolutely perfect. Thank you for asking me, my love.”
“No, thank you darling, for choosing me,” he hummed. The look in his hazel eyes glowed a vibrant amber in the sunset. He ran his fingers through his golden brown locks, pushing back any loose strands of hair would obscure his vision. All he wanted was nothing more than to take in every second in admiring you. He needed to capture every bit of this moment, creating a mental photograph of you. A daily reminder that he is lucky to have someone like him in his life.
“You have made me the happiest man alive, my love. No can ever take that away from you, or from me. I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life being dedicated to you. Without an iota of doubt, please know that I will always love you, [Y/N].”
You threw your arms around his shoulders, bringing your bodies closer together. “Of course I know that, silly. I will always love you, Sinclair. To the edge of the galaxy and back.”
So I was wanting to (if you are comfortable with it) request a Sinclair Bryant x fem reader who's on the chubbier side.
Two or three years after he divorces Natalie he doesn't expect to fall in love again but he stumbles upon the reader and there's just something about her.
She also enjoys his rambles about how interesting everything is and he maybe even has some random facts about "what's interesting about chubbiness" or something like that. (Im not easily offended by anything so dont worry. But if it makes you uncomfortable no worries. I just love being seen as a chubbier girl myself.)
But like he finds lots of things interesting about the reader in that regard.
It also works out for him because he really enjoys his food too
Basically lots of fluff and Sinclair being a sweetheart?
I hope this doesn't seem all over the place.
thank you for such a great request @nonscathingbullets 😊 I'm so sorry it took me this long to write it, but rest assured, I just wanted to make sure fulfilled your request. It's why I took what felt like eons to finally write it, and now it's finally ready to be posted🌸
I'll post it on a separate post, and I'll definitely tag you in it. I hope you'll love what I wrote
I think a lot of writers might benefit from giving themselves permission to get weird with format.
Use second person, drop classic rising action and climax format, write backwards, just sit in a moment, tell all you want and refuse to show, make an entire book that’s just one run on sentence, reject tropes, use all tropes, cliche yourself to death, produce something that’s completely gibberish. Break all the rules of marketability. Become ungovernable.
It’s the middle of the night and I should be sleeping but listen. Listen. Just get weird with it. Open your soul up a little bit. Like actually don’t worry about it being palatable. I’m serious. Get weirder. Get weirder right now. I’m demanding that you get weirder right now. It’s not your responsibility to make your reader feel good. It’s your job to make art, goddamnit. Make art. Make weird art. Open up your third eye and eat an entire cheesecake.
This will be a rather personal post as opposed to the usual content you might come across my blog. So here goes nothing...
14 February 2026
Today marks the 26th year my parents brought me into this world. My "Born-Day", as I like to refer it to. As expected, it's meant to be considered a very special day; a day worth celebrating (my birthday happens to fall on Valentine's Day). To be honest, I actually dread it every year.
Eight years ago – precisely 2 days before my 18th birthday – I had an epiphany. I was so exhausted. I had convinced myself that everyone I knew would be better off without me; and so... I made an impulsive decision to permanently check out of reality. So I did, however, my plan failed in the end. And what I learned from my decision? I'm glad things didn't go according to plan.
Every year, a part of me wishes what I did back in 2018, should have happened. Granted, it sucked that I celebrated my 18th birthday in the ICU. Yet, the other part of me is incredibly grateful to still be alive and well today.
Despite all of the trauma I have faced throughout the years, I've managed to see view life from a different perspective.
Since my last 'attempt', I didn't have a proper strategy regarding how my life is supposed to turn out. For the last several years, my life has been on autopilot mode. The career path I had envisioned in my childhood? Never came to fruition. The trajectory I mapped out for how my life should turn out? Fucking forget about it.
Even though almost none of my childhood fantasies never came true, I'm happy some did (and in the most unexpected ways possible). From the daily love and support I receive from my partner, the authentic friendships I've cultivated both in person and online, to rekindling my passion for writing (and sketching). None of this would be possible had my previous attempt been successful.
The last few weeks of 2026 began to reintroduce those negative feelings once again. In spite all of this, I refuse to give up. The last thing I want is to become the young girl I once was; who was willing to end it all. To give it all up, not knowing what life has in store for me in the future. More importantly, I would hate to disappoint the very individuals who saved me at my lowest moments in life.
I should also give credit where credit is due. If it weren't for my love and appreciation for the following: my grandfather who died in 2017, my late best friend (her life was tragically taken from her in 2023), my loving and supportive partner, and for the late Alan Rickman, I don't think I would still be here today, and I owe it to them. (I hope this doesnt sound creepy.)
To anyone who may be feeling down whenever their birthday approaches every year: it's okay to not feel and/or be okay. I want to let you know that I'm so proud of you. I'm proud you chose to continue living. I'm proud you chose to continue fighting. I know living in this world is never easy, and there are days that make you question whether life is worth living or not. I need you to know that I'm really happy we're still alive today, despite the fucked-up world we all live in.
And to Alan Rickman: Even though I never got the chance to meet you in person...I want to thank you. Thank you for saving me in ways I never believed was possible. Thank you for being the rare, exceptional human being I grew up with as my role model. Thank you for reminding me to pursue my love for the arts – especially writing and visual art. Thank you for teaching me to see the beauty in the little things in life, and to celebrate the wins I often deem to be 'insignificant' or 'not memorable'. In summary, thank you for everything.
"This is not reality. It's a romance. So take a deep breath. Enjoy it. It's for you."
I'm ending this post with this memorable (and my personal favourite) quote of his. I'm trying my best to survive this life with this as my personal ethos. I truly hope everyone has a fantastic day today, and happy Valentine's Day to anyone celebrating♡
P.S. @nonscathingbullets I want to let you know your requested fic is almost complete🌸 I'm so sorry it's taking me long to post it, life has been so chaotic, and I want to reassure you that I have been working on bringing your idea to life, and I hope you've been doing okay my love 🩷
