Hey! I just recently found ur blog and I absolutely love your work! Do you think you could do an imagine ((with extra fluff;) ) where the reader is a drummer and singer in a band and they're dating Ethan and him and teamiplier goes to one of the reader's concerts and they're all awed,shocked and amazed and Ethan is just so proud of his little drummer girl
o K this is so cute and i can’t and it’s nearly midnight when i’m starting this and i have classes tomorrow but this is really really really cute and i can’t
I Favor The Drummer
When you were eight years old, you got your first drum set and immediately fell head over heels for the idea of creating unique beats. It turned into your favorite thing to do, and you drove your parents absolutely insane. It was sort of hilarious; especially because you were never bad at it, you just were really loud. You were told by a teacher that you have the habit of hitting drums pretty hard, but the drumsticks you have are super durable. You’ve broken pairs before, but the practically endless supply has been replenished time and time again by your ridiculously supportive parents.
Honestly, you just loved the damn instrument. You loved music, playing it in front of crowds with your hair down and your makeup done, looking absolutely badass while people are cheering. It’s been your dream for the longest of times. But you’re beginning to live it, one show at a time.
At the beginning of a west-coast tour in your hometown of Los Angeles, you were out shopping for some thrift store tanktops to rip up and cut up. It wasn’t until you were out of the store that you met Ethan.
He was ridiculously sweet to you, because you forgot your bus card, he let you use his. On the way back to your stop, he talked with you, and you asked him if he liked music.
“I mean, who doesn’t? I’m not sure if I have anything specific I like, but music is still the shit.”
“I’m a drummer,” you smile, “that’s why I asked, is all.”
Your meetings at the bus stop turned a lot more natural, because you’d walk there to go to band practice and he’d walk there to go to his office.
“I actually do YouTube,” he sounds prideful, “my viewers are the best people I’ve ever met. They’re fantastic and I can’t believe how much support I get from them. Especially now, when I’m working as an editor and also a content creator.”
“That’s so admirable. It’s kinda like how I feel with my band, y'know, like anybody who’s ever listened to us are just the best people, no matter what they have on their minds. They’re there then, and now.”
“I’d love to see your band sometime,” he smiles to you. You laugh a little, brushing your hair behind your ear.
“That’d be awesome, thanks. I’ll subscribe, and find some time to watch you.”
As you and Ethan talked more and more, you understood each other more. Your professions actually weren’t too far off from being the same. It’s hard to make it both ways, and it’s really fun both ways. He always talks about the people who watch him in the best possible light, and you talk about the people who listen to you in the best possible light.
You’re still surprised when he asks you to coffee one morning.
“Like… now?” You ask, worried that you’ll be blowing off the girls. It’s always been a habit of yours to come to practice, rain or shine, sick or healthy.
“If it’s fine by you,” he smiles. “I don’t have much work today, I did a lot of it in advance so we could have the morning.”
“I guess I do need some coffee,” you grin, and walk with him to the little shop down the street.
He buys you your drink and you sit and talk for a little over an hour. You don’t even feel the time passing, because his stories and his voice is timeless. You’re so amazed that he’s so persistent and constant in his job, and you think that he thinks the same of you. It’s really the greatest.
For a while, you sit and talk with empty cups about everything and nothing. Favorite things, horrible first dates, high school. It’s casual and you switch topics so smoothly. It makes you happy to see him smiling at you across the table. Especially because of how he looks at you, with the same pride that one would with a fond friend.
It only takes you another couple months of small coffee rendezvous for him to ask you on a proper date. You end up spending a day together at the coast, chilling and building sand castles. He makes you laugh and you tell him that you want to go out with him again, and he beams with happiness when you guys step your feet into the water. It’s really, really cold.
One day, at the coffee shop (you managed to reschedule practice to a couple hours later than it used to be), you’re both sitting together hand-in-hand.
“I have a show this weekend,” you sort of mumble. “I was wondering if you wanted to go, ‘cause you still haven’t seen me play.”
“I’m totally going,” he announces. “And I’ll even bring my friends. I’m sure you’re going to be amazing, okay?”
You hide a shy smile, because he’s the one person you don’t want to mess up for.–
The weekend rolls around faster than you thought it would. You’re waiting backstage at a small venue, knowing that Ethan’s in the audience for you. You keep twirling your drumsticks between your fingers, doing some light vocal warm-ups because you always sing the stripped-down songs. Your T-shirt is one he bought you; “I Favor The Drummer”, only you cut off the sleeves and added some other little holes because drumming gets really warm really fast.
The moment you get out on stage, you can hear people yelling for you. You turn your head to see Ethan and a group of people, all in the shirts, smiling with such pride. And Ethan’s is the biggest.
Your set is probably the best you’ve ever played. You throw in some cool drumstick tricks, and as always, end up getting up to the microphone once to sing. There’s something sweet about feeling like you’re singing to someone. You can’t mask it in your smile, in your stare to Ethan, in the way he nearly makes you giggle on stage by smiling right back.
In fact, the minute you’re off stage, Ethan comes over and gives you the biggest hug. And for a second, you wonder if it’s the right time to kiss him, because you could. You’d love to, in fact.
So you do, in a crowd of people who just listened to you play the most amazing show you ever had. And Ethan, of course, caused all of it.
Even though you’re sweaty and tired and you’re pretty sure you’re gross, he picks you up and spins you around and smiles like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.