#im going to put a fucking hole through my windshield im going to lose my fucking shit i HATE IT HERE

[iamjessemccartney]

i'm so mad i'm so fucking mad

[boywivlove]

| Title | Lost My Way |

| Pairing | Min Yoongi x Reader

| Word Count | 1K

| Genre |  Pianist AU, fluff, slight romantic moments, slight angst

| Summary | Min Yoongi was a rising prodigy in the pursuit of his career as a musician, but after a car accident his hands are left with severe injuries. It takes years for him to find his way again, and he will never give up his dream, no matter what life throws at him.

| Warnings | descriptions of accidents and injuries.

| AN | My second drabble for the `BTS Bingo Collaboration` with `ficswithluv` and I’m really glad to get this out!! Im going to be posting a lot more drabbles in the weeks to come !

----- “Even if Im slow, I will walk with my own feet Because I know this path is mine to take. Even if I go back, I will reach this path Eventually  I will never   I will never lose my dream” ----

If you asked Min Yoongi before graduation, where he thought he would be in two years, it wouldn't be here. He would have answered that he would have liked to be training with the Seoul Philharmonic Orchestra, having been offered a place with them straight after graduation. He never could have guessed he would be sitting in a physiotherapy clinic , his hands barely able to hold a pen, all because of a head on collision with a drunk driver. But fate has a weird way of messing with people's lives, doesn't it? 

He hadn't always liked piano, in fact, up until he was 15, he had never touched a key. Yoongi had grown up streetwise, not classically trained. But during a summer school program, he thought what the hell and took it as an elective. It was either that or track… no thanks. Yoongi was quick to learn how to play, his teacher noting that he was the quickest student to learn the ins and outs of playing. After he had been given the confidence to play, he had started to pride himself on his dedication to his skills, and to have it taken away from him because of one stupid, selfish ass hole… it burned him. It made him angry. He was supposed to make something of his life, to be recognised for his skill and get off the streets. 

The crash happened one night in June, he had stayed late to practice for his upcoming exam. The driver sped right through a red light, and right into the front of Yoongi's car, he couldn't remember exactly how he got to the hospital, but they said he was lucky to be alive, his head had been split open upon impact, his face and body had been scraped by the glass from the windshield. But the injury that he felt the most were his hands, severely impacted by nerve damage, when he first woke up he had thought they had been amputated, not being able to feel them at all. The doctors had said there was a 40% chance he would be able to control them again, but it wasn't 100%. And to Yoongi, that wasn't enough.

“How are you feeling Yoongi?” He didn't look up to address you, but he nodded his head in acknowledgement. You were the newest in a string of physiotherapists assigned to help Yoongi try and work through his injuries. The others Yoongi had driven away from his outbursts of anger. You were younger than the others, only a year or so older than him, and he had to admit you were pretty to look at. And you hadn't asked for a replacement therapist for him yet, it had been 6 months and you still stayed with him. Yoongi was grateful, even if he had a hard time showing it.

It wasn't that Yoongi didn't want to get better, he wanted nothing more than to be able to use his hands again, but at the same time, he was tired of trying and getting nowhere. He was angry. 

He hated that what happened happened to him, after he had worked too hard to get to where he was. He would never, ever get an opportunity like that again, it wasn't just his slot in the symphony and his ability to play he lost, his friends, he had eventually pushed them away one by one. He couldn't stand the sympathetic way they spoke to him, giving him advice they found on google on how he could get his hands back to the way they were. What the fuck would they know about anything. The only person he seemed to open up with was you, you didn't push him, but you did challenge him to do the exercises. 

The therapy was slow, infuriatingly so. It was like no matter what he did or how much he tried, he was incapable of the simplest of things. His writing looked like chicken scratch, he would barely grip onto anything without dropping it, even getting dressed took twice as long and made his hands ache, 

“You've made some great progress in the last year, I know it's not as much as you want it to be, but progress is progress.” 

It was a slow process, painstakingly slow. But after months of you challenging Yoongi with the physiotherapy, Yoongi could finally see some progress. He could write his name in a somewhat presentable way, he could fully grasp anything without it aching, but he would hold things slightly. It even hurt less to button up his shirt in the morning. You were so proud of Yoongi for sticking at it and trying as much as he can muster. The whole reason you took this job was to help people get their lives back on track, and to see Yoongi smile when he was able to do something with his hands made it all worth it. 

You had decided to pay Yoongi a visit today instead of being cooped up in the clinic for hours, there was no reason you couldn't do his exercises at home afteral. Yoongi had given you a spare key to let yourself in, and had told you the flat number that was his. You had brought him some lunch from a bakery you remember him saying was his favourite place to go after practice. 

Fiddling with the key in the lock you made your way inside and set the lunch on the kitchen table. You heard a soft off key melody being played in the next room, re must have not heard you enter. Making your way slowly to the door, you spot him sitting at his piano, his hands tentatively playing the keys. You could see the concentration that was etched onto his features, and the shaking of his hands. It was a serene moment that you loved to see with him, but it was cut short when you heard another off key moment, and his hands slammed into the keys, causing him to cry out. You rushed over to where he was in an instant, afraid he had hurt himself, he seemed to only then notice you as he let you inspect his shaking hands.

“You know better Yoongi, no straining your muscles!” You look over his hands, gently turning them over in your own.

“Whats the point of trying to get better if Im NOT getting better, what the fuck am I suposed to do! I'm no closer than I was when all this shit first happened!”

Your heart went out to him, it really did. You knew Yoongi's background from your little conversations during your sessions. You knew where he'd come from and how hard he'd trained and worked for this chance.

“That's not true, you've made great progress, a year ago you couldn't even pick up a pen, let alone play the piano like you just did . Yoongi I know it's hard, but a big part of recovery is the patience and time you put into it. It's not an overnight thing. You know that..”

He said nothing, just breathing through the numb feeling he now felt in his hands. He nodded slowly and looked up at you, your hands still holding his own. 

“What if it never goes away… Y/N what if everything I've worked for can never come true, and I'm stuck with a bunch of what ifs for the rest of my life….”

“Is that what you're most afraid of?”

He nodded, his shoulders shaking slightly. “I've worked so hard… I've put so much energy into this, I can't imagine doing anything else…”

“Yoongi, I know you can do this, you just need to give it time. And I know you're gonna get back on your feet, and you're gonna get over this… you've just got to give it time.” 

He was nervous. He was so fucking nervous. It had taken him years after the accident to get here. Watching just off the stage as the audition before he finished up, he was good, his melodies were flawless. Yoongi had to commend him on his steady hand. Looking at his own, he was full of doubt. He wasn't sure he would be good enough to do this audition. 

He walks out in a daze. The nape of his neck started to feel hot. He introduces himself, and he takes his place on the bench. He swallows, and looks out to the crowd. It was then he saw you enter quietly, taking a seat in the empty isle. You came. He suddenly thought of everything you'd said to him through his recovery, the promises of staying by his side, the encouraging smiles when he started practising again. Even when his sessions were over, you still stayed in touch with him and encouraged him even more. It wasn't until the judges panel motioned for him to start that he gave his hands a small squeeze.

Life hasn't been easy for him recently. Everything had changed for him. It was a slow process. But he's here, he made it. 

One step forward, two steps back. He'd never lost his ambition, it was just buried under fear and doubt. But now, he was ready to reach his dreams, and he had you as his light in dark times to guide him.

[oleanderblume]

In case yall wanna know what happened!

So. I was in bed, my teammate was driving and we were going through construction when he looked down to check the navigation.

The lane that was closed shifted within that split second and he drove headfirst into a sign! Punctured the fuel tank, put a hole through the windshield bigger than my head and fucked up the bumper.

Obviously I was in bed, doing fuck all to see what happened but I'm kind of glad cause if I were in the passenger seat I would have had glass shattered all over me lol.

No one is harmed, luckily.

My teammate might lose his job though so that's not great. I told him if he goes I go, I have a better record than him now and tbh i don't need to long haul to make the money I need to provide for myself so if he does end up having to leave, I'm probably gonna go for a yard dog job near my home so I have more time off to spend with my brother and sister.

If he does get got by our company I'm sure he can find a job at another company pretty quick im just worried for his family because he is the primary breadwinner of his entire extended family :/

Anyways!! No need to spread my call for help anymore! We are safe in a hotel tonight and our truck is in the shop! If things go south we will be able to gather our belongings and hopefully get a new truck or rental home (if they fire him I'll have to drive solo for a while so that sucks but hopefully things will line up with my time off)

[impertfectedchoices]

I Promise - PT.3

Prompt: In a Heartbeat Ship: James X MC POV: (Point of View): James Word Count: 1,653 Tags:

@hhiggs | @destinio1 | @marryjanewaston

Artist Comment: Holaaaaa, So, pardon the, AGAIN, long break. Life’s been kicking my WHO-LE existence 😭.

This one, unintentionally, is going to be a really emotional part. This wasn’t my original plan, but it just… kind of happened. The past two months have been pretty hectic, and I’m really trying my best, But when you go through bs, it seems like you’re alone. A quote I’m gonna be using in this pretty much sums up what I’m going through. And I feel like it fits in this fic too well. So, I hope this comes across well. While writing this part, I actually cried, like, semi-broke down 😭. This hits a real personal note to me, and I hope you guys understand it. So, FAIR WARNING! I’m trying my best to not look at the situation, but how I’m going to get out of it. And your “now” won’t be your “future.” Anyone can come out of a crappy situation and thrive. You just gotta go through the storm. And all that sappy stuff, lel. 💕

PS, This, as well, was on a whim. No planning, drafting, or prethinking about plot before I write…. just gonna try to spot all the spelling errors this time 😂

le’Enjoy!

•

8:01pm

It’s feeling like elephants are sitting on my chest, since getting back to the car. I’ve never, necessarily, had problems with my breathing being under control. But sitting here; watching the car lights from main road dance across my windshield, I find that I’m constantly reminding myself to take breaths. The more I force myself, it seems, my breathing gets more shallow. I’m repeatedly feeling on the inside, each attempt to grasp at anything stable. I’ve always been able to zone out, and let my mind center on my sane points. But, as of recent, there’s nothing to feel. Numbness has replaced any form of joy to my life, leaving me a drained form of myself.

From the library, past… past MC’s house, to the highway that took me a few miles away from Hartfeld.

Familiar roads allowed for the holes to appear slowly into the wall I temporarily built up, within a 30 minute time span. I parked, went inside and felt the anxiety creep its way back in. My mind tried to put itself back together, but seemed conflicted with the storm’s leftover mess that wasn’t letting up. Every time I attempted to collect my emotions, regain what stability I believed consumed my existence, something happens to throw my progress out the window to clean, discard, and replace. One fall after the next.

My hands were still, wrapped around the wheel. Never leaves, but tightens every so often. I could feel myself tense up, veins more visible, and the white peaking through from the grip I’d had. I needed to focus on something, Anything.

There’s like… maybe over 30 cars in the parking lot.

40?

Just turned red…

Counted off 5 cars turning right at the light.

…now 6,

7?

Yea, 7.

Turned green.

White… Toyota

Um, think it’s a Camry.

The left side’s light always seems to last lo-

• knock, knock •

Now, just realizing the knocking happening next to me, I’d subconsciously whipped away any traces of emotion left on my face to greet who it’d been. To my surprise, I was greeted back with a less then stable face bundled up in her jacket. Unlocking the door, Abbie walked to the passengers side. I opened the door for her, as she climbed in, with semi-urgency. “W-wow, it’s a lot colder than I thought I’d be today.” She said with a bit of a stuttery smile. It had been getting colder since fall started creeping in, but the temperature rarely came to mind, with everything else taking up room. I tried my best to disguise any strain that I’d been feeling earlier, to save face. “Yeah, falls been catching up on us.” mentioning with a halfhearted smile. As I began fiddling with the knobs; turning switches to adjust the heat, she cleared her throat before she began breaking the silence again, “James,”

Looking back up, her face, almost immediately tensed up. Actually looking at her, you could tell she’d been worn out. She looked as if she’d been crying, and her eyes grew puffier the more seconds passed by. Abbie seemed very resilient at times. But in this moment; just like everyone else, I was stunned to see her so weakened. “Abbie. MC’s going to be oka-“ “Don’t lie,” The cracking in her voice was low, but audible enough to ring throughout my head. “James, ?Kaitlyn and Zack told me everything. I went to meet up with everyone, got inside and… and everyone was just, falling apart. Chis pulled Tyler to the side. And I’ve, I’ve never seen him look so broken. Zach couldn’t even look me in the eyes, and Kaitlyn could barely get enough words out without breaking down mid sentence…” The more she spoke, the more the reality of the situation sunk back into me. “…They told me you left, and that’s not like you. So I had to find you.” She’d been turned directly to me, eyes swelling. Looking down at my steering wheel, my hands at some point fell back into position. Feeling myself tense up, still forcing myself to control my breathing enough to speak, “I just, it was hard for me to stay in there for much lon-“

“JAMES, THAT DOESN’T MATTER!” Wide-eyed, My eyes darted back up to her. Her face had gotten a hint redder than normal, and her expression was drenched with frustration, annoyance, worry, and concern. She had been trying to do what everyone felt was impossible; break through the walls I built up when placed in these circumstances. I understood what she was trying to get accomplished, but of all moments, now wasn’t the time. “Abbie,” Attempting to bite back any amount of sternness in my voices, I continued, “… I know how your feeling right now, this isn’t easy on me either. But the last thing we need to be doing is losing it on each other.” It seemed like everything I was saying, though, was just fueling the fire. “What an excuse. So is this your way of ‘solving the situation?’ Running off and hiding in your car?” “No, but staying in there isn’t going to make it any better.” “So, what is staying locked up in here is proving? All I see is someone running away from their problems!”

I could feel every ounce of me radiate irritation. It was getting harder to swallow it. “So do you truly believe I don’t care about MC? Really?” “If you did, you’d be in that room waiting for her! You already took her for granted before, and to think I thought better of you James. I had high hopes, but she’s given you way too many chances for you to get your act together… and you just SIT HERE! You may have had a lot on you plate, but she’s literally given every chance to fix her schedule to make time for you. And all she can get is a few texts, Time you give her for newspaper club meetings? You literally stand her up to work on some dumb paper when you knew she’d been sick. And no apology? Nothing?”

I’d still been staring at the steering wheel as she spoke. The more she yelled, the tighter my grip had gotten. What she didn’t understand was that this was literally killing every inch of my being inside. It felt like I was falling in this hole; ever since Vasquez passed, plummeting. Im just ready to hit the bottom, look at the distance I have to climb, and start climbing, but there isn’t a bottom. I just keep falling. It never ends. This constant torment doesn’t seem to have an end. And I just want it to be over. Everything emotion warped around in my head together; anger, fustration, sadness, guilt, irritability, brokenhearted-ness, fear, heartache, pain. It all reeked in my body, consuming me as all I could hear in my head was yelling. Abbie’s voice faded out, and all I could here was my subconscious talking: It’s your fault, you should’ve been there, you did this, where were you, she needed you, you weren’t there, your no good for her, she’s wasting her time, your taking her for granted, she deserves better, let her go…

“God James, I would thought you’d learn better from everything you put her through. Even with Vasq-“

BEEEEEEEEP!

“BE QUIET!!!!!”

I slammed my fist into the wheel instinctively. I needed the voices to stop, the agony to stop, I just needed to be able to hear thoughts that were my own. She jumped, looking shocked towards me. She didn’t expect such a response from me.

“Be quiet, be quiet, be quiet, it’s not true… it’s not true. I care… I care, I swear.” I’d kept repeating this to myself, extensively tight clutch on the steering wheel, hunched over it.

“I care, I swear I care about her… I love her so much, God. Please, make her okay, i swear I’ll do better I care I care I care She means the world to me she does I need her”

I kept repeating it, over and over again. I needed what I believed to overpower what was going on in my head. But I didn’t have the strength to keep up the facade. They were right, it was my fault. She’s been so stressed because of me. I didn’t deserve her, I should have been a better partner, a better friend, a better boyfriend… I didn’t notice Abbie grab me from my stance and held me. She had been the one consoling me this time around. The hold I had over my emotions just gave out. It felt as if me as a person broke, shattered for the first time, as I was left to face my emotions, instead of disguise them.

“I’m so sorry, MC. I’m so fucking sorry, I’m sor-ry I’m so- I’m so-rryyyy.” I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Dropping my face into my hands, my heart wrenched and I dissolved in myself. Shaking, all I could do was replay what she’d told me, making my soul call out for her more;

”I’m fine James, it’s just a small cold. Nothing I… *sniff* can’t handle!”

”I’ll be okay James, I promise.”

”Geez, so mushy.”

”… but I love you too, my darling.”

•LAST •NEXT