renjames



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    “I’m not sure what happened,” Grantaire admits to Combeferre. His arm is in a cast, and he can feel the tight stretch on stitches on his forehead, but the most pertinent problem really is the panic growing in his belly. His drawing arm is in a cast. The arm he uses to make art, the only part of him that really truly needs to be functional for him to have the future he wants, and it’s in a cast, and he has no idea what he did.

    Combeferre’s face turns concerned. “Your head wound didn’t look bad enough for a concussion…” He pauses, eyebrows near touching in thought. He grabs Grantaire’s chart off the bed and flips through it. The tension leaves his eyebrows and they instead skyrocket towards his hairline. “Your blood alcohol level was extremely high, Grantaire. Do you remember drinking?”
    --
    For The March Hair, based on a heart wrenching picture

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    07 Aug 2025

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    After he gets laid off, Grantaire moves back home to help out on his father's Christmas tree farm. But when a shady businessman starts trying to move in on their property, an improbably handsome lawyer from the city might be their only hope to save the farm.

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    18 Nov 2021