His hair. He doesn’t have your normal scraggly brown hair just sitting there. It’s a red, but not ginger red, and looks softer than the chicks’ hair in the shampoo commercials. And the sideburns. What man can pull off those risky little fuckers? Patrick goddamn Stump. Your fingers would look good woven through those little red locks of joy.
The height. He’s only just over 5’4, so he’s like a little toy made just for you to play with. Stump is like the god of the short people, more fittingly because his ironically accurate last name. There is nothing about him that makes you want to not hug him, I dare you to find a better man to give a good heartfelt squeeze to.
His style. He can pull off a goddamn jean jacket, when the hell has that ever been in style? If you know Stump, he always has a sexy little hat place just atop his hair, a trademark of his. A good trademark. And those skinny jeans. They can always be just a little bit tighter, Patrick. Just saying.
Have you really heard of him much? How big is his band? Big. He likes to stay in the background, and who doesn’t like an adorable little shy dude? He’s also involved with several different charities. And just a few months ago he got arrested. Can you say sweetheart by day, bad boy by night? Tell me that’s not perfection.
HIS MOTHER FUCKING VOCAL CHORDS. Jesus himself couldn’t sing a note more smoothly and beautifully than this man. If he joined a church choir, everyone could just leave because his voice will suffice and then some. Not to mention his other musical abilities.