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imagine you're getting married to kaiser and even though you're the bride, it's him that turns into an absolute bridezilla.
initially, you thought it'd just be a small event between you and him—just going down to city hall and be done with it—but when you had sleepily confessed to him one quiet night as he played with your fingers that maybe in another life, you'll get a traditional wedding, kaiser's determined to make sure you get what you want in this one.
and this guy kinda goes a bit bonkers. he's got everything planned in meticulous detail in this binder he carries around everywhere with all the information one could possibly need—vendor info, list of caterers, drafts of the schedule for d-day. at first, you think it's sweet, that he's going all the way for you and him. until he goes... a little too far.
he once grossly spat out his bite of a sample black forest cake right in front of the baker. "this is an insult to germany itself. never bake this again if you know what's best for you."
"i thought i asked for silk tablecloth with the chiffon runner?" he seethed at one caterer, grabbing the fabric and bunching it in his fist. "you thought you could fool me with this cheap-ass polyester?"
"i don't give a single shit if they're out of season," he cussed at one of the florists over the phone. "get me those tan hua flowers for my wedding or so god help me."
the list of caterers in his binder grows narrower and narrower—with some of their services slashed by kaiser due to "incompetence"(kaiser's words, not yours) or they flat-out refused to provide service to you due your fiance's temperament.
you tell him multiple times that this doesn't have to be a big event he has to stress over, that all you want is for you to tie the knot and to devote yourself to each other, but all kaiser does is kiss your forehead and tell you that he's got it covered.
"what kind of husband would i be if i didn't make my beloved's wishes come true, mein schatz?"