Based Off of the Request: I need more Dad! Patrick, it is my favorite one and literally the best thing ever!!! Please write a new one, it would really make my life 20 times better
Patrick Stump was not a morning person, and everyone knew it. Reporters, fans, producers, and everyone in our family could tell you this. He was, without a doubt a night person. My mom even made him sound proof his work room in our new house, because his late night music would keep us up at all hours of the night. Everyone knows my dad hates getting up early. What they don’t know however, is that this is only true most of the time. Birthdays, holidays, and special occasions brought out a whole different side of him. Today was one of those days. It was my birthday, so it was no surprise when Dad burst into my room at 7 am.
“Good morning!” he shouts in the room, sitting down on the side of my bed, “Happy birthday cupcake!”
“Too early” I mutter, rolling away from him and putting my arm over my face to block the light from the open door. I hadn’t exactly been looking forward to my birthday this year.
“Too early!?” he exclaims, “Today is the celebration of the birth of my very favorite daughter, and it calls for celebration, so the day must begin now!”
“I’m your only daughter” I say, giving up and rolling over to look at him.
“And my favorite, so get up, we’re leaving for breakfast in a half hour” he responds, grinning and turning to leave.
“Hey dad” I say, stopping him right as he gets to the door.
“Yes?” He says.
“Thanks” I smile at him, knowing he’ll be trying really hard to make sure I have fun today
He grins happily, “Anything for you kid”
*Later that day*
“I am exhausted” Dad groans as we walk into the house. He tosses his hat off of his head dramatically, collapsing on the couch.
“We didn’t have to go to breakfast, lunch, a movie, and the fair” I say with a laugh, sitting next to him.
“Of course we did, it’s your birthday” he says, almost offended.
“It’s not that big of a deal” I argue.
“Oh it’s not?” he asks teasingly, “Does that mean you don’t want me to give you your present?”
“I lied my birthday is a big deal. A huge deal actually” I quickly backtrack, causing him to laugh.
“I’m teasing, of course you get it today. Now?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know the answer.
“Please” I say folding my hands and putting on a fake pout.
“Alright alright, no need for the puppy dog eyes.” he says standing, “But you need to close your eyes”
I nod with a grin, excitedly covering my hands with my eyes. I peek a little through the lines between my fingers, and see him leave the room, coming back with something awkwardly hidden behind his back.
“Okay, you can open them. I know you were peeking anyway” he says, teasingly acusatory. I remove my hands immediately.
“I was not!” I defend.
“Mhmm sure” Dad responds, with a knowing look. “Anyway, here you go. Happy Birthday, sweetheart”
From behind his back he pulls out an old acoustic guitar, a big red bow on it.
I gasp standing up from the couch, “Oh my gosh is that…”
“Yep.” He says smiling, “This is the guitar I learned to play on. I know you’ve been talking about finally learning so I thought…”
“Oh my god!” I practically squeal, lunging forward and hugging him tightly. “Are you sure?” I ask, suddenly doubting myself.
“Of course, it would make me so incredibly happy for you to have it, and to learn on it. And if you decide you hate guitar, then you can always give it back”
“Thank you so much Dad” I gush, hugging him again. He chuckles, squeezing me back.
“You’re welcome, now how about you give this old thing a try?” he suggests.
I nod happily, gingerly taking it from him and sitting back down. He sits next to me, adjusting my hold on it.
“ I made sure it’s tuned and ready for playing, so if you want, we can start your first lesson now” he says as I strum it a few times.
“Absolutely” I respond ecstatically- I’ve been waiting for him to teach me the guitar for years.
He grins at my excitement, delving into a discussion about chords and notes and finger placements. Time melts away as minutes turns into hours. The next thing I know, my fingers aching dully and my stomach growls softly.
“Alright, I think we’ve had enough for one day” Dad says, standing up and stretching his back.
“But Dad we’re right in the middle of this song” I pout, not ready to quit.
“Hey there’s no rush. How about we make some dinner, roast some marshmallows in the backyard, and then if you still want we can finish the song”
I grin up at him, softly placing the guitar down and standing up.
“Okay, but can we have mac n cheese for dinner?” I ask
He laughs, “Your birthday means you’re supposed to be getting older and more mature,and yet you want mac n cheese, just like always” he muses, walking into the kitchen.
“Oh please, you want it just as much as I do” I joke, crossing my arms.
He nods thoughtfully, “That’s fair. Let’s have some mac n cheese.”
I sit at the kitchen table after the mac n cheese is cooking, watching my dad as he stirs the pasta and softly sings show tunes under his breath.
“Hey Dad?” I say quiety.
“Yeah?” he asks, face turning concerned as he spots my expression.
“Thanks for today” I say with a smile, “It was perfect”
“You’re welcome sweetheart” he says, a touch of sorrow filtering his smile as he talks, “I know, uh, you’re used to your mom being the one who planned your birthday, and I just wanted this one to be special”
I smile back at him, knowing he struggled with the idea of my first birthday since Mom left, just like I did. “You did a wonderful job Dad” I say truthfully, walking over and hugging him, “It was the best birthday ever”
I hear him sigh and he squeezes me tightly.
“I loved that it was just the two of us” I pull away, smiling at him cheekily.
“Good,” he says with a relieved smile, squeezing my shoulders, “it’s you and me kid, always”