cuppyuppycake

[cuppyuppycake]

Oh, She Is The Star!

Look, I’ve made some questionable recipes in my time. I’m talking ketchup-flavored macarons, lavender ramen, and that unfortunate durian pie situation that made my neighbor cry (true story). So when I stumbled across this recipe called Blinged-out Coconut Madness at 2:03 AM on a shady blog titled “Dazzle Your Destiny,” I didn’t hesitate. It had coconut milk, pandan juice, suji leaf juice, rice flour, edible gold dust, sparkling sugar, and—because apparently it’s a lifestyle choice—banana leaves. Was it weird? Absolutely. But it was also destiny.

The next morning, I got to work. My kitchen turned into a jungle-themed alchemy lab within five minutes. I played my “chaotic culinary goddess” playlist and narrated everything like I was on an off-brand cooking show. “Step one: summon the coconut gods.” I poured the thick coconut milk into my biggest bowl like I was blessing the moon. Then in went the pandan leaf juice—bright green and suspiciously slime-like—and the suji leaf juice for that signature jungle-scented flair. Sugar. Salt. I was feeling powerful. But then came the rice flour. It exploded on me. Literally. I opened the bag wrong and got snowed on like I was in a flour-based disaster film. My cat, Mochi, ran away. I kept going.

Now came the real chaos: edible gold dust. I poured it in like I was casting a spell on my enemies. Sparkles everywhere. On the counter, in my lashes, probably in my bloodstream. I added sparkling sugar dust for the drama. The batter shimmered like radioactive jelly. I wrapped the mixture in banana leaves, stacking them into my steamer like little alien dumplings. Steam hissed out like a fog machine. The air smelled like tropical perfume. Honestly, it felt like a vibe.

When they were done cooking, I opened the lid with a flourish. The cakes were… a little lumpy. A little wobbly. But glowing. Truly glowing. Like if a cake and a disco ball had a baby. I plated them like a proud food sorceress and texted Alex: Come over. I made something sparkly. And potentially life-changing.

Alex, poor soul, had endured my experiments before. She arrived cautiously, sniffing the air like it might be dangerous. “What is that?” she asked, staring at the glittering green banana-leaf bundles like they were going to hatch. “It’s Blinged-out Coconut Madness,” I said proudly. “It’s edible, probably. Also, if the blog is right, you’re about to become the main character of your life.”

She narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t like the sushi you made that turned my mouth blue for two days, right?”

I gave her my best innocent smile. “Totally different vibe.”

She took a bite.

At first—nothing. Then, slowly, it began. She paused by the mirror on my fridge. Looked. Looked again. Tilted her head. “Have I… always been this radiant?” she whispered. And then it began: full sparkle-core spiral. Alex started talking in monologues, posing with kitchen utensils, walking in slow motion across the living room like she was in a K-drama intro. “I was born for this spotlight,” she muttered as she dramatically flipped her hair by the window. She literally called Mochi “my noble companion in this cruel world” and did a twirl while using my tablecloth as a cape.

I was crying from laughter. I couldn’t even breathe. I filmed the whole thing for scientific purposes. She made me play sparkly K-pop music and pretended she was filming a perfume ad.

Three hours later, she blinked. Sat down. Looked at her reflection in a spoon. The sparkle was gone. She stared at me. “Shasha. What did you feed me?”

I grinned. “An awakening.”

She groaned and flopped onto the couch. “You gave me an identity crisis wrapped in banana leaves.”

I took a bite of the leftover cake and opened my phone. The next recipe on the blog: Cupcakes That Might Make You Fall in Love with a Chair.

I smirked. “So… lunch plans?”

[cuppyuppycake]

A Legacy of Love, Duty, and Shadows.

Frederick Havenford may have been the younger brother of Alfred, the Duke of Havenford, but he never saw his position as anything less than a unique opportunity to make his own mark. Instead of dwelling in his sibling’s shadow, Frederick embraced his role with confidence and purpose, forging a path of his own in the world of diplomacy. From an early age, he was drawn to the art of negotiation and statecraft, quickly earning a reputation for his sharp intellect, impeccable manners, and charismatic presence. His talents made him a highly respected figure in both the royal court and foreign embassies, and although he was born a Lord, Frederick preferred the subtle influence of quiet diplomacy to the fanfare of grand displays. He was a man who understood that true strength lay in his character and the lasting impact he could have on the world, not just his title.

Constance Montgomery, the daughter of Viscount Phillip Montgomery, was a woman of heart—a stark contrast to Frederick’s polished exterior. Raised in an aristocratic household, Constance had been expected to conform to the roles of a dutiful daughter and then, later, a well-positioned wife. But she chose a different path. With a natural inclination toward philanthropy, she became known for her charitable works, embodying a spirit akin to Mother Teresa. Her humility, warmth, and selfless nature were not only admired by those in need but also by the high society that would have typically regarded such work as beneath them. She was beloved for her gentle kindness, and her beauty was not just in her appearance, but in her very soul.

When Frederick met Constance, their connection was one of perfect harmony, blending their strengths in a way that felt effortless. Frederick, ever the composed and reserved diplomat, was drawn to Constance’s warm, unguarded nature and her unwavering compassion. Where he was measured and precise, she was open-hearted and deeply empathetic, with a genuine desire to make the world a better place. Their love was built on mutual admiration for the qualities they each brought to the table. After their marriage, Constance took on the name Constance Havenford, stepping into the world of political dinners, state affairs, and the high expectations of her new life as the wife of a diplomat; yet she always carried with her the warmth and humility that had marked her before. Together, they balanced the demands of their roles with a shared sense of purpose, proving that two worlds could come together beautifully.

Together, they had three children:

Diane Havenford (the eldest), a poised and confident woman with a sharp mind for politics and women’s rights. Diane would go on to become a strong public figure, her name synonymous with education reform and international diplomacy. She embodied the balance of classical elegance with a modern mind, often being the voice of reason when family matters were in conflict.

Wesley Havenford (the second-born), an adventurous, rebellious spirit with a deep sense of purpose. While he was not one to follow in his father’s political footsteps, Wesley carved his own path as a travel writer. His independent nature often found him in far-off lands, chronicling the stories of the world, sometimes with a bit of boldness and unapologetic authenticity that got him into trouble. Yet, Wesley was always on a quest to make an impact in the world, even if it was in ways no one expected.

Sophie Havenford (the youngest), a dreamer with a heart full of wonder and boundless curiosity. Sophie’s personality could only be described as radiant—she was a sunbeam, always greeting people by name and noticing the small details, like the new hat someone was wearing. While her elder siblings were known for their intellectual pursuits, Sophie was a creative spirit, with a deep love for fashion and beauty. Unlike Diane’s composed elegance or Wesley’s bold, rebellious charm, Sophie had a gentle exuberance about her. She believed that a good dress could brighten anyone’s day, and she was always sketching, pinning fabric swatches, or talking about embroidery techniques with a starry-eyed passion.

Sophie’s dream was always clear: she wanted to become a couturière, a celebrated fashion designer. She would spend hours designing outfits, exploring fabrics, and fantasizing about the impact she could have on the fashion world. Her room was often scattered with sketches of dresses, magazines filled with fashion inspiration, and half-finished sewing projects. Though not a conventional path for someone of her status, Sophie’s determination to follow her dreams made her stand out in the family.

The Havenford home was a place where warmth filled the rooms, a contrast to the cold grandeur of many noble households. Frederick, despite his work as a diplomat, ensured that his family’s home was a sanctuary, a place where love and laughter were cherished as much as accomplishments. Books lined the walls, half-finished sketches and ideas were scattered on desks, and there was always room for a little more ambition. Though the expectations for his children were high, they were nurtured with encouragement, and the house echoed with a sense of belonging.

But everything changed when the family’s relationship with Lady Theresa, the Duke’s beloved daughter, began to fall apart. Sophie, in particular, had been very close to Theresa, who had always been like a sister to her. The Havenford children were all fond of Lady Theresa, who was once regarded as the shining star of the Duke’s household. But then the scandal involving her love life broke, and the situation quickly escalated into something much darker. The Duke, in his fury, exiled Theresa from his household, an act that crushed her spirit and devastated those who had once loved her.

The true tragedy came when Lady Theresa took her own life. Her death cast a long, dark shadow over the Havenford family. The curse she had whispered on her deathbed seemed to hang over the entire household. Frederick, who had once shared a close relationship with his brother, the Duke, now felt a distance that he could not bridge. The warmth of their home turned to silence, and even the smallest moments of joy felt tinged with sorrow.

In an attempt to escape the memories of their past, Frederick and his family moved to Hampshire. But no matter how far they went, the memory of Lady Theresa’s fate lingered in their hearts. The words she had spoken, the curse she had left behind, haunted them.

Yet, in the midst of all this, Sophie’s love for fashion never wavered. She threw herself into her work with even more passion and determination. Perhaps, in some way, her dream of becoming a couturière was now her way of healing and breaking free from the shadow of Theresa’s death. She still believed that beauty, like love, had the power to heal and restore.

The Havenfords, while scarred by the past, continue to live with a sense of resilience. They may never forget the darkness that has touched their lives, but they have found ways to move forward. For Sophie, her journey has just begun, and she’s determined to ensure that her legacy will be one of light, love, and, most importantly, hope; the kind that she feels, deep within, is always waiting to be found.

[cuppyuppycake]

Operation: Cozy Tent Complete!

Shaletta trudges up the Seoraksan Forest Trail, a hiking bag almost the size of her upper body strapped to her back. It’s giving camping pro on the outside, but inside? She’s 70% excitement, 30% panicking about sleeping in the wild. She reaches the sunny clearing where the Bakers Camp is setting up, catching a whiff of someone already baking cinnamon rolls nearby. This is heaven. Or maybe a trap.

She spots her tentmates, Ludovica (already holding a color-coded checklist) and Helena (somehow tangled in a bundle of poles like spaghetti). With a dramatic plop, Shaletta drops her bag and salutes, “Reporting for tent duty!” Ludovica, unfazed, assigns roles. Helena just waves from inside the chaos she created.

Setting up the tent is… well, it’s a team effort. Shaletta accidentally hooks the rainfly to her hair at one point. Helena almost becomes one with the tarp. Ludovica keeps muttering, “This wasn’t in the manual,” but somehow, the tent goes up. Crooked. But proud. They all cheer like they just built a castle.

After that, Shaletta notices some of the other bakers are struggling with their tents. One group is arguing whether the poles are colorblind. Another has a tent that looks more like a deflated croissant.

So she ties her hair up in a ponytail, and goes into Helper Mode™. She untangles knots, calms one baker who’s convinced a squirrel stole their mallet, and even helps someone find a missing tent piece.. only to realize it was in their pocket the whole time. Classic.

By the time the sun’s lower in the sky, Shaletta’s hands are slightly dirt-covered, her cheeks are flushed from all the running around, and there’s a leaf stuck in her hoodie. But the tents are up, the bakers are smiling, and her own tent is officially declared “most lived-in but charming.”

As she flops onto a camping chair, Helena hands her a cookie. “Hero of the day,” she says. Shaletta just laughs, “All in a day’s tentwork. Sissy”

©️Shaletta for SunnySideBaker Baker Camp event, 2025.

[cuppyuppycake]

Hike, Click, Panic!

The sun peeks through the trees like it’s winking at the campers, and Shaletta, backpack clipped tight, cheeks glowing, and camera hanging from her neck; grins at the start of the Eagle Peak Trail. Today’s plan? A group hike to the summit with the rest of the bakers. “Time to climb like a cinnamon roll rising in the oven!” she chirps, earning both laughs and groans from her friends.

She's joined by Lana, who’s already munching on trail mix like it’s popcorn, Kalani, who brought a tiny journal for nature notes, Alex, cool and steady with sunglasses on even though they’re in the forest, and Luna, who packed enough snacks for a week. Shaletta, of course, brought strawberry-flavored water and a polaroid camera she guards like treasure.

The first stop that makes the whole group gasp? A hidden waterfall, cascading down like liquid silver. Shaletta stops in her tracks, eyes sparkling. “Wait, wait, we’re swimming here right?? RIGHT?” she yells, already halfway out of her jacket. Lana tugs her back, giggling, “We just started, Sha. You can’t get soggy now.” Shaletta pouts dramatically but takes a ton of pictures instead—then volunteers to take candids of everyone else with the falls in the background, climbing up on a rock like a true photo director.

Further up the trail, the trees begin to thin and the group reaches a stretch of rocky peaks, where Shaletta declares, “Okay I’m a mountain goat now, watch me climb this!” She immediately slips on a pebble and dramatically says, “This is the end of me. Tell my cupcakes I love them.” Alex snorts and helps her up. “You're way too dramatic for someone with sparkly shoelaces.”

Suddenly, a wild deer appears ahead on the trail, majestic, peaceful, curious. The whole group falls silent as the deer stares them down… and Shaletta gasps, “IS THIS BAMBI?” She whispers “hi baby” like it's a puppy, and Kalani has to physically stop her from offering it a cookie.

They pass a wooden hut nestled among the trees: quiet, untouched, and kinda mysterious. “Wait, does someone live here? Or is it like... a cozy ghost hut?” Luna wonders. Shaletta shivers dramatically and insists on walking in the middle of the group after that.

But the real chaos comes when they spot a bear (!!!) far in the distance, rummaging around in the bushes. Shaletta freezes, wide-eyed. “THAT’S NOT A FOREST TEDDY BEAR!!” she screeches, and the entire group has to do an emergency whisper-huddle. Alex stays calm, Kalani takes deep breaths, Luna hides behind a tree, and Shaletta accidentally drops a granola bar and almost cries about it. They quietly reroute... and survive with only mild heart attacks.

Not long after that heart-racing moment, they reach a suspension bridge—wobbly, scenic, and slightly terrifying. Shaletta clutches the ropes like she’s on a rollercoaster, squealing at every creak, but insists on stopping in the middle for a photo with Lana. “If I fall, post this on my story with sparkles.”

Finally, the group reaches the summit. It’s breathtaking. The valley spreads out below like a painting, with trees in every shade of green and the blue sky stretching wide overhead. Shaletta, grinning ear to ear, runs ahead, spinning with her arms wide.

“GUYS WE MADE IT!” she calls, then plops down on a flat rock to start snapping pictures like a tourist in heaven. She takes selfies, landscape shots, and cute portraits of Kalani journaling, Luna doing finger hearts, and Alex pretending not to smile.

Lana taps her shoulder. “Wanna sit for a bit?” Shaletta nods, cheeks flushed from both the climb and the fun. “Best hike ever. Bear and all.”

The air up there is cooler, and as the breeze brushes through her hair, Shaletta leans back and beams. She’s already planning her next summit snack picnic.

©️Shaletta for SunnySideBaker Baker Camp event, 2025.

[cuppyuppycake]

Baking Challenge? She Ate! (Quite Literally)

When the no-oven challenge is announced at camp, Shaletta doesn't flinch, not even a little. Instead, she perks up with that signature spark in her eyes, swinging her hiking bag off with purpose.

“No oven? No problem,” she says, pulling out a small container with perfectly packed strawberries. “We’re going lava mode.”

She ties her hair into a bouncy ponytail, rolls up her sleeves, and starts laying out her ingredients on the picnic table. Eggs, butter, dark chocolate, sugar, flour... and her treasured strawberries from home—still bright and fresh despite the hike.

With her little campfire going steady, Shaletta sets up a makeshift double boiler using a pot and some clever balancing. As the chocolate and butter melt into silky perfection, she hums a happy little tune. The scent floats through the campsite and starts turning heads.

A few bakers pass by, Eleana gives her a thumbs up, Dominique gasps dramatically at the smell, and Demietri just quietly watches in awe. Shaletta flashes them a wink, then goes right back to whisking her batter.

She pours it carefully into two small ramekins she brought just in case of dessert emergencies. Then, gently, she tucks them into a Dutch oven nestled in warm coals.

“Alright, babies. Rise and shine,” she whispers like they can hear her.

While the cakes bake, she slices up her strawberries into little hearts just for fun. It’s her favorite part—making things cute even in the wilderness.

Ten minutes pass... then fifteen.

She lifts the lid with anticipation and grins. The cakes are puffed and perfect. A soft little crack in the middle tells her the inside is gooey just like she wanted.

She plates one, places the strawberry slices on top, and takes a bite—molten, rich, sweet, with just enough fruitiness to balance the chocolate. Her whole face lights up.

“It actually worked,” she whispers, still in disbelief. “She’s beauty... she’s grace... she’s MY lava cake.”

A small group gathers, curious, and she giggles, already handing out tiny spoonfuls from the second one. Good thing she made two.

Even without an oven, Shaletta’s heart is warm, her cake is melty, and her joy is shared.

Her campfire dessert? A total hit. (Self-proclaimed)

©️Shaletta for SunnySideBaker Baker Camp event, 2025.

[cuppyuppycake]

Her, simply.

Shaletta is the kind of girl who hums while tying her shoelaces and always brings an extra cookie "just in case someone’s having a bad day." A Performing Arts major with stars in her eyes and sugar in her soul, she’s a natural on stage but still gets the sweetest case of nerves before every performance. She sings like springtime, dances like it’s second nature, and finds comfort in the keys of her piano or the warmth of her oven.

She was raised in the quiet countryside of Paris, in a flower-draped farmhouse tucked between golden fields and whispering trees. Life there was filled with the sound of laughter, music drifting from open windows, and the comforting bustle of a home shared with 11 siblings and her gentle, nurturing mother. Being one voice among many taught her how to shine in soft ways—with kindness, with creativity, with a giggle that made everyone feel at home. Her mum used to say, “Mon petit soleil, your light is the kind that grows gardens.”

Now studying far from home, she keeps her roots tucked safely in her heart; in the way she braids her hair like her sisters used to, in the way she hums old lullabies while baking strawberry tarts for her friends. Whether she’s composing a melody beneath fairy lights, dancing across the stage, or carrying homemade sweets to rehearsal, Shaletta brings with her the gentle magic of a countryside childhood and a heart made full by family.

To Shaletta, the stage is where she dreams, but the kitchen? That’s where her heart remembers ⋆🌷🫧💭₊˚ෆ

[cuppyuppycake]

✧ Gentle Reminder:

This blog is a fictional space created purely for roleplay purposes. It is not affiliated with the real Stella Kim or Hearts2Hearts in any way. All content here belongs to the original character Shaletta Noémie Havenford, lovingly brought to life for storytelling and creative expression only ♡

A quick list of open agencies we’ve probably bumped into before:

★ AtPopMart

★ DearLittleBook

★ TheCapitolCode

★ NekoCrafty

[cuppyuppycake]

[cuppyuppycake]

𝐰𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞.

𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐰𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐮𝐬.

🤍☁️🌿🍃✨️

[cuppyuppycake]

𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘣𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩, 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶? ⋆˚౨ৎ ⋆.˚

[cuppyuppycake]

𝐼𝑛 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝘩𝑢𝑠𝘩 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑠, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑜𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝘩𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔𝘩 𝑚𝑦 𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑒𝑠, 𝑎 𝑤𝘩𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒, 𝑎 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑎𝑐𝘩𝑒.. 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑙𝑦, 𝐼’𝑚 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑏𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆