5sos preferences & imagines

[78] Your Child Wins Something

-Your Child Wins Something-

A s h t o n

"Mom! Dad!" your 13 year old daughter comes running into the kitchen, something held behind her back. "Woah, what is it, kiddo?" Ashton holds out his arm as Y/D/N tries bounding past him, stopping her in her tracks.

"Guess what I won on the radio?!" She squeals excitedly. "Wha-" Ashton starts but is soon interrupted by another shrill scream as Y/D/N holds out the tickets from behind her back. Concert tickets to her favorite band. You smiled knowingly at Ashton, who just chuckled.

"That's great, sweetie," you say,
giving her a hug and complying as she forces you to jump up and down with her. "I'm assuming that second ticket is for your really cool dad, who happens to be in a really cool band," Ashton says hopefully, cocking an eyebrow at Y/D/N. "Sure, Dad," she replies.

"Ooh, maybe you can get me backstage," she plots, her eyes lighting up as Ashton mock pouts at her. You smile again at Ashton as you remember the days when you would've reacted the same way Y/D/N was for tickets to see your favorite band. And just look where I am now, you thought happily.

C a l u m

"Dad!" Y/S/N's tiny face lit up with a smile as he ran over to meet you, where you were standing with Calum and perching your infant daughter on your hip. The sweaty 6 year old holds out his small brass trophy in front of him as he approaches Calum, who swiftly scoops him up into the air for a victory dance of sorts.

"Calum, put him down!" you scold lightly, stifling a laugh as the other soccer parents start to stare. "Did you see me score that goal?" Y/S/N asks you, mostly directed at his father, a happy grin spreading over his face from ear to ear and reminding you so much of Calum.

"I did, it was great, bud," Calum holds out his fist to Y/S/N who promptly taps it with his own.

"Like father like son," you chime in, unable to resist yourself.

Who's up for some victory ice cream?" you ask. "Me!" Calum shouts before Y/S/N promptly repeats him, and you chuckle lightly as they race to the car.

L u k e

You sit with Luke in plush folding chairs inside the dance studio where your young daughter had been taking ballet lessons. Today was the day when parents got to come in to see what the kids had been learning, and even though it wasn't really his scene it was still so sweet that Luke had wanted to come see his daughter perform so badly.

You sneak a peak at his grinning face as he watched the seven year old girls totter around quite comically, locking eyes on his daughter as though she were the most talented dancer he'd ever seen. He claps enthusiastically once they're done and pulls out his phone to videotape as the teacher begins handing out awards like "Most improved" and the like. You join in with his celebratory cheering as you hear,

"Best attitude, Y/D/N Hemmings." The smile that appears on her little face is a perfect blend of the one's on her parents' faces. After the awards are handed out, Y/D/N comes running - well, twirling clumsily, actually - over to the two of you. "I'm so proud of you, Y/D/N," you chime in as Luke gives her a hug.

"Alright guys, let's head out to the car," you say as everyone begins filing out of the studio.

"Daddy, dance with me to the car?" Y/D/N asks Luke hopefully, and to your surprise he agrees. You chuckle lightly to yourself as the two of them spin equally as clumsily to your awaiting minivan, mostly at how adorably ridiculous Luke looked.

M i c h a e l

"How'd it go, bud?" Michael asks over Skype on the computer screen in your kitchen as your teenaged son comes in, his guitar case on his shoulder.

"Alright," he says nonchalantly, leaning back on one of the kitchen chairs and propping his feet on the table. You shoo his feet away as Michael presses on.

"Just alright? I want details, man."

"We got first place," Y/S/N says finally, a proud smirk on his face.

"Hell yeah, I knew you would!" Michael exclaims, pumping his fist in the air.

"Wish I could've been there," he adds sadly. "It's okay Dad, you'll just have to be here for our first gig. It's in two weeks," your son's attempt at casualty had vanished and you can see the pride on his face and smile.

"Wouldn't miss it for anything," Michael promises. You can't help but get a little emotional at seeing your son follow in Michael's footsteps, unable to wipe the smile off your face as they engage in an impassioned discussion about the importance of being a good live band.