#and also he's not subtle at all but sheer intimidation made the entire room shut up about the cancelled wedding

[zincbot]

absolutely in love with captain hob, as expected

[yandere-romanticaa]

Not all that glitters is gold.

The library was filled with quiet chatter from various students as the gentle rays of sunlight illuminated the ancient books in front of you, giving them an even more mysterious aura. You were preparing yourself for an upcoming assigment and seeing that you were a new student and that you couldn't peform any sort of magic, headmaster Crowley made it his mission to help you adjust in this quirky academy. But to be frank, assigments were the last thing you wanted to do. The headmaster also often made you clean up various parts of the castle which was in itself very tiresome and if you add the stress from the classes you took, it was safe to say that all you really wanted was to nap and maybe have a snack. It also didn't help that Grimm bearly lifted a paw to help you too...

But still, even in a dire situation like this you did your absolute best to remain positive. There was no use in panicking. Tapping your fingers against the wodden table, you looked at the window and was met with your own complexion and only then did you realize just how messy you were. You hair was messy and all over the place, your clothes were slightly filthy and your face had seen better days. You sighed as you retuned your gaze back to your books, waiting for your so called partner to show up. Headmaster Crowley assigned you a partner to work with for the next few weeks and you figured that he was going to be at least a year ahead of you. A part of you was overjoyed by the news since you really could use the extra help. The other part though couldn't help but to feel slightly nervous as you had no clue just who in the world he could be. Headmaster Crowley said that he was a competent and brilliant student and that you shouldn't have too much trouble with him.

As if on cue, the large wooden doors to the library were open and the distinct sound of shoes clicking against the tile floor could be heard as at least half of the students there stopped with their activites to marvel at the one who entered.

Vil Schoenheit.

You heard about him before, he was a well known figure in not just Night Raven but in the entire Twisted Wonderland. He was known for his breathtaking beauty and intelligence and the entire student body couldn't help but admire him. Head tilted up proudly, he sauntered towards your table and before you knew it he was standing right in front of you. You finally got a good look at him as you realized just how utterly flawless he was.

"No need to stare dear, beauty isn't something so contagious."

You couldn't help but to blush a little by his statement as you slightly pouted and looked down, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

"Before we even beging doing anything else may I ask, why do you look like that? When was the last time you took a bath, slept properly, hm?"

...Not even five minutes had past and this guy was already getting on your nerves. Your confidence grew back a little as you looked up at him, (e/c) eyed slightly narrowed in annoyance. His purple ones stared right back at you, his own distaste being put on display.

"Well? Aren't you going to answer me?"

You didn't have the patience for this.

He let out a sigh, closing his eyes in the process as he messaged his temples to calm himself down. He wordlessly sat in front of you, crossing his arms. Deep violet orbs stared back in to your own as neither one of you was willing to break eye contact. The air around you seemed to thicked as the perfume he wore started to invade your nostrils, the slightly flowery scent only causing you to furrow your brows even more. You two stayed like that for a few minutes, just studying each other in this thick silence. A few students who passed your table were weirded out by your behaviour but you paid no mind to them, and he seemed to be doing so as well. It felt like an eternity had passed until you finally decided to break the silence:

"Are we going to start working or what? We don't have all day."

"No, no we do not. But I absolutely refuse to work with someone who looks as filthy as you. At least take a shower!"

You couldn't help but to smirk a little knowing that you were getting to him. Being dirty was bothering you as well but he was just blowing this entire thing out of proportion.

"Don't you know that if you want to be the best you must look your best?!"

His teeth were gritted as his deep gaze seem to shot daggers in to your very soul but oddly enough he didn't intimidate you. A sudden wave of confidence washed over you as you found your voice once more, pure annoyance and determination lacing your voice.

"Vil, have you ever heard of the phrase "Not all that glitters is gold"? Looking good is not the be all and end all."

Your words stung the blond haired male as he continued to glare at you but no words came out of his mouth.

You two continued to bicker like this for the rest of the afternoon until the sun finally came down. The warm orange glow casted a shadown upon yours and Vil's table, only separating the two of you even more. You bearly got anything done that day and just before you could turn to leave, Vil's voice stopped you.

"Be back here tomorrow at the same time, and don't be late. Understood?"

You slammed the door shut, not giving him an answer.

♡♡♡

"Not all that glitters is gold."

Your words ran through Vil's head as he angrily paced around his room, checking his reflection every now and then. He couldn't believe that headmaster Crowley had partnered him up with someone like that, it was just disgraceful! His blood was boiling and it felt as though it was going to burst from the raw and sheer anger he was feeling at that moment. What made him even more mad was that he was still thinking about you. Why the Hell was he doing that?! He has better things to do anyway...!

♡♡♡

Hours turned in to days, and days turned in to weeks and you just could not seem to understand Vil. It bothered you greatly by just how arrogant he acted at times and his harshness towards you only made you dislike him even more. It also didn't help that he had such a strong presence in Night Raven so no matter where you went with Vil someone was bound to show up.

It was annoying.

Vil on the other hand pretty much never left your side and would pester you about literally everything you did. Your hair was too messy, that top didn't go with those pants, your back wasn't straight enough, your handwriting was poor, you were carrying the wrong book, you couldn't use any magic. It was getting to you, it honestly was. Just when you thought you could maybe get some time alone and gather your thoughts, Vil demanded that you eat lunch with him in order to keep and eye on you. He was driving you insane but it had become common for the two of you to fight, so much so that as a joke Rook even made a schedule. One Saturday morning though, Vil woke up in a rather bitter mood which was quite unusal for him. He did his usual morning routine, did his hair and make up, got dressed and took his books. Just as he was about to leave, the reality of the situation hit him like a truck.

It was Saturday.

You two didn't have to study together.

That thought should have brought him piece of mind but oddly enough, it didn't. His heartbeat quickened as a light sheen of sweat started to form on his forehead.

Why was he feeling like this?! He should be glad that he was no longer in your presence...! But he couldn't deny that at times, you were quite entertaining. Even if you were pretty much useless when it came to magic you were good with your words and just had this sort of charm that drew people in from time to time. When you bothered to get dressed nicely though, dare he say you looked absolutely stunning...

...What the Hell was wrong with him?!

♡♡♡

Exiting the Heartslabyul dorm, you continued to laugh as Grim, Deuce and Ace walked by your side, Grim pouting while the other two could not contain their laughter.

"You stupid raccoon, you burned that cake to a crisp! You should have seen Riddle's face, he was soooo pissed~!"

"How many times do I have to tell you explosion head, I'm not a raccoon!"

Vil was annoyed by the noise the three of you were causing but just when he was ready to give you all a piece of his mind, he saw you, smiling and laughing your heart out. He'd never seen you in such a cheery state, the closest thing he'd ever gotten from you that could resemble a smile but even then it was always a teasing one, meant to drive him up the wall. He soundlessly watched your little group up from the staircase, millions of diffirent thoughts running throught his troubled mind. You were so oblivious, weren't you? Did you really fail to notice just how much attention you were getting by simply smiling?

Just as about you were going to leave the main hallway, you stopped dead in your tracks an odd sense of fear filling your stomach. Your gut was screaming at you that something was wrong, that someone was watching you and your every move and whoever that someone was, they were damning your very soul to the deepest parts of Hell. You finally got the bright idea to look up and once you did, nothing could prepare you for the subtle but cold terror that was creeping upon you. Up the staircase stood Vil in all his glory, but his face was stern, his red lips pressed in a thin line but it were his eyes that unsettled you the most. You've never seen so much raw hatred directed towards someone and for the first time in a while, you were left speechless. You had no smartass comebacks this time, no sassy or cute jokes to fire back at the vain student. All you could do was stare and stay still in your place and just pray for him to just move, even if it was just his pinkie finger.

"Uh, hello, Earth to (y/n)?! You still with us??"

You were brought back down to Earth by your friends touch on your shoulder. The hand belonged to Deuce and when his hand came in to contact with your shoulder, Vil's expression hardened even more. You laughed nervously, just trying to brush of Vil and you continued to walk with your friends.

So that's how we're going to play, hm?

♡♡♡

No amount of preparation could prepare you for the horrors that awaited you on Monday morning. You were awoken by Rook who was given direct orders from Vil to bring you to the Pomfiore dormitory. Apparently, Vil made a little deal with the headmaster, and the headmaster approved. According to the arrangements, you could now sleep in the Pomfiore dormitory and you were to accompany Vil to all of his classes in order for you to better grasp certain subjects. The scariest part of everything though wasn't just this sudden change, but Vil's attitude towards you. If you two were in a crowd he was very nice to you, downright sweet even. In private though, his behavior would change and he would become a lot more controling and demanding. You could no longer be alone, it was a rule to be by Vil's side 24/7 and if you tried to break it Rook would just appear out of nowhere and deliver you to Vil.

His presence became overbearing as he demanded to be the one to dress you, wash your hair, do literally everything for you. You couldn't tell what was going on with him but something was surely wrong. His behaviour would shift so unexpectedly that you were never quite prepared for it. If you behaved well and did what he told you, Vil would spoil you with more undivided attention and gifts that most likely cost a fortune and then some. Some students even began to ship the two of you, cooing at Night Raven's "power couple". A lot of people were enchanted by the tale of the beauty Vil Schoenheit falling for a non magic user, but that person simply must be something special in order to catch his watchful eye.

You on the other hand felt like you could no longer breathe. Looking at your own reflection in the mirror, you bearly paid attention to the stunning purple dress that perfectly hugged your curves and the exquisite make up that Vil himself put on you.

You were a perfect doll, just like how Vil wanted you to be. He was going to break you, he was going to teach you a lesson about being oh so careless with his poor heart. And then he was going to mold you back together, in to the perfect little darling, worthy of being by his side.

♡♡♡

Tagging @poisonepel because I would love to hear your opinion on this! You are a Vil Schoenheit connoisseur, please, do tell if you think he'd be like this? And sorry if this was bad, I'm new for writing Vil!

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader Deadly Voice Part 36

Ok, I believe the next part is ready.

I’ve messed around with this part a lot - chopping, changing and adding as i wasn’t entirely sure what was happening now, later, never etc. so if anything doesn’t make sense or seems out of place I apologise!

(I actually put some Joker in! I know CRAZY! Sorry - I get a bit carried away some times so I apologise he is not in it as much as I want! The next few parts should always have Joker in, hopefully for a bit longer?)

Enjoy! :)

Masterlist

I pondered the visit from Frost for the rest of the day. The whole thing had seemed rather odd, but I also knew the chances of ever getting any answers about it were slim so I eventually let it slide -  attempting to get on with my more pressing worries.

This was quite easy in fact due to a rather odd phone call I received a few days later from a man very insistent that I needed to accept his proposal of a job offer. Having submitted so many applications I was at a loss at to which this one was and whether I had even gone for an interview yet. This was soon cleared up upon further questioning the very frantic man where it soon became apparent to me that I hadn’t even applied to the position.

I was even more surprised when I found the actual position wasn’t even to be a performer at the club, but was in fact to run the club in a prime spot in the Gotham night life area.  At this information I could feel my jaw literally hanging open and a thousand questions rattled through my head.

How was this possible? I had never applied for this job so how did he find me? And what on Earth made this person think that I was qualified to run a business? Sure I had run my family’s but that was without any formal training or qualification - and I never even put that experience on my CV. There was something fishy about this and I was becoming more and more certain it was a scam – especially because of how desperate the man was to hear an affirmation from me.

Many times throughout the phone conversation I attempted to apologise to the rather nervous sounding man and turn the offer down, however, the man on the other end never seemed content at this answer and refused to let it drop. Eventually - out of sheer exhaustion of the situation – I agreed to meet him at the club in question to discuss exactly what was happening – and to prove to myself that this was real.

As I followed the address to the club there was a large part of me that was certain I wouldn’t find anything there, so I was pleasantly surprised when I arrived at the door to find a very new-looking club. I examined the exterior, it didn’t appear to have any obvious name on the front of house and from the outside was relatively subtle, the outside painted completely black except for the door which was a bright orange with purple accents. There wasn’t single dent in the door or a chip out of any of the paint work and it all looked new and fresh.

I knocked on the door but there was no response. Maybe this was the scam? He’d give me a real address but never show? I tried the door anyway and, to my surprise, I found it unlocked. Probably against my better judgement, I stepped in, walking down a long dark corridor lined with posters of new and old bands alike, but not in the pealing-off-old-advert-way where no one had ever been bother to remove them, but in a sort of retro decoration.

Eventually it opened up into the main club room. Unlike my club – which had a rather old fashioned layout with plenty of seating areas and a relatively small dance floor - this one was almost empty of tables and booths except the few that lined the walls on raised platforms. The colour scheme seemed to be dark purple and bright orange throughout, the walls all painted purple, the accents the vibrant orange.

Littered around the room were supporting square pillars that matched the shade of the walls but were then able to be illuminated by bands of lights which ran alone each side. I glanced to my left to see a huge DJ system that looked to be made of the newest kit, but even that didn’t dwarf the even larger stage that sat behind it which could have supported a whole broadway production.

As I stepped onto what I believed to be the dance floor I noticed that the floor was interspersed with large tiles of floor lights which would glow a bright orange when the club came alive. What surprised me the most was that my shoes didn’t stick to the floor as I walked.  

This club really was brand new.

I moved further into the room, now glancing through the forest of pillars to my right, my eyes falling onto the bar that was up on a dais against the back wall.

The back wall was made of glasses, bottles and mirrors. The bar itself was a deep purple with orange trimmings to match the rest of the room and, hovering directly above it, was an array of multi-coloured bottles. They probably contained spirits I had never heard of and I couldn’t help but admire how they would look pretty impressive when the lights of the night hit them.

There were a few stools that lined the front of the bar, all a brilliant orange colour that looked more like arm chairs due to the tall back rests. It was on one of these weird bar stools that I noticed a man perched with a folder laid out on the surface in front of him. I headed towards him, my heels clicking on the dance floor and the plastic lights. He spun the swivelling stool around at the sound of my footsteps, abandoning his papers and straightening up when to face me.

Upon recognising who I was he hastily slipped off his seat and hurried to meet me, catching me just before I stepped up onto the raised platform. “Hello Miss [L/N], it’s good to meet you in person.” He greeted in a rush, his voice sounding nervous I wondered why he looked so afraid of me.

“[Y/N], please.” I insisted taking the hand he offered me and shaking it with a smile in an attempt to get him to relax slightly

He smiled a bit in relief at my friendliness, “Nice to meet you [Y/N], I’m Gregory Hinchum – uh – Greg.” He said, shaking my hand back.

When we release each other’s hands there was an awkward pause where we both stood there, neither sure what was next. “Uh – shall we have a seat?” He asked timidly, gesturing a hand toward the stools. I nodded and we moved over to them - him returning to his folder whilst I tried to climb on the tall stool next to him with any grace I could manage.

“So – um,” Started Greg, fishing through his papers before him – whether this was an excuse to buy time for thinking or he was actually looking for something, I wasn’t sure - “You’ve uh- you’ve seen the place.” He muttered and if it hadn’t had been so silent around us I would have had to strain to hear him.

I nodded, waiting for him to go on, “So – uh – what do you think?” He asked, peering at me anxiously, still shuffling through the papers.

I was a bit taken aback by the question, “Uh –well – yeah - it’s nice.” I stammered, “Um- very - very new.” I added biting my lip at how lame that sounded.

“Oh good.” He said happily, completely ignoring my lame compliments. “So you’ll take the job?” He asked hopefully.

“Um – “I faltered, surprised at the rush to a final answer, “I’m not sure…” I trailed off, trying to silently confer to him that I didn’t think it was right for me.

“Oh?” His face fell at my look of uncertainty, “Why not?”

“It’s a bit intimidating.” I admitted. “I’m not sure I’m up to running it…”

“Nonsense!” He dismissed quickly, “I hear you’ve managed a club before! This’ll just be the same!”

“Uh – I’m not sure it will.” I insisted, brushing aside the fact he somehow knew I had run my own club previously. “I mean this place,” I gestured around at the room, “is so much nicer, probably way more expensive too – I don’t want to mess this up for you.” I explained.

“For me?” He questioned, puzzled before realisation brightened his face, “Oh no. This isn’t my club!” He said hastily.

“It’s not?” I asked confused.

“Oh no.”

“Then whose is it?”

Greg coloured brightly and I felt my heart sink slightly. Whose club was this? “Greg.” I said trying to stay calm by breathing evenly, “whose club is this?” I asked quietly but more firmly.

He didn’t say anything, just began pulling papers and examining them, before hastily shoving them to the back of the folder.

“Greg…” I warned, my tone dangerous.

“I’m sorry, I can’t –“ He was cut off as I abruptly grabbed his collar and yanked him towards me so that he was close to falling off his stool. “Tell me.” I snarled, teeth clenched.

“I-I can’t! He told – He said not to!” He cried. I stuck my hand in my coat pocket and withdrew my gun, placing the barrel up against the side of his head. I heard him whimper at the touch of the metal on his skin.

“Oh shhhhh Greg.” I purred, “Now that’s a pathetic noise for pathetic people isn’t?” I cooed, pouting at him. He shut up immediately.

“Now, I breathed, not breaking contact with his panicky eyes as I pressed harder into his skull with my gun. “Who’s. Club. Is. This.”

He didn’t answer straight away, his eyes darting around anywhere but at my own.

“Well?!” I demanded fiercely, shaking him with my grip on his shirt so his balance on the stool became even more precarious.

“The Joker!” He cried recoiling from my harsh tone and clenching his eyes shut from against the pain in his skull where I applied even more pressure.

“Err!” I growled, throwing him backwards so he nearly toppled off the stool if it wasn’t for the weird back rests on them, even then though, the stool wobbled dangerously.

I shoved myself off my stool and began to stride out of the club, anger powering my strides. Could I do anything without that damn clown interfering? What this another attempt to manipulate me - to get me under this thumb once more? Did he not remember what happened last time I ran one of his clubs?! And I was more than happy to do it again for him!

Suddenly there was the sound of a gun shot behind me and I heart skipped as I spun on my heels to towards the noise. Greg was now collapsed on the floor beneath his stool, a dark puddle forming from beneath him.

“So that’s a no?” Came a mocking tone from behind me followed by an echoing laugh. My heart dropped at the voice and I twisted towards the voice, already reaching back into my pocket for my weapon.

The Joker, still stepping out of the shadows, raised his hands in surrender when my hand dove into my jacket, his pistol handing from his index finger through the trigger guard.  “Woooooow!” He cried dramatically, “No need to get violent!” He giggled at me and I could feel my heart rate increasing and I wasn’t sure if it was fear, shock, or the fact his purple coat was riding up his body naked torso so that his toned stomach was on clear show for me. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours!” He cackled, reaching into his reptilian coat with his free hand and withdrawing a handful of knives, splaying them in a fan in his hand as he returned his arm back up again, an innocent look on his face.

I watched him suspiciously but decided to play along, copying his action and retrieving my ‘Deadly voice’ gun from my pocket and showing it to him. He grinned at my cooperation and then threw his weapons to the side – his eyes never leaving mine - so that it landed a good 10 feet away, clattering against the floor. I watched him warily, but followed suit.

“See?” He asked, his hands back up in surrender, “All friendly.”

I glared at him, “You want me to believe that’s all you’ve got on you?” I asked in annoyance.

“Feel free to search, Doll.” He quipped, “I’m up for as much touching as you want.” He grinned devilishly and I rolled my eyes at his childishness.

When he figured I wasn’t going to challenge him any further he lowered his arms down, partially hiding his torso again, though more skin that should be was on show thanks to his half open coat.

“Gotta say, I’m impressed doll, it’s like looking in a mirror sometimes.” He praised me and I felt the heat in my cheeks as I realised he must have been watching my exchange with the now-dead Greg. I remained silent, pleading the blush in my cheeks to go before he got any closer, trying to keep my scowl at him unwavering.

“So can we come to a deal now, Doll?” He asked pleasantly, ignoring my silence and giving me a sickly sweet smile. I cringed slightly, more from fear than repulsion – I think I preferred him angry – at least then I knew where I stood with him.

“To work for you? Not likely.” I scoffed, trying to remain strong and confident by holding onto my anger that was leaving me all to soon now the man was before me.

“Aww come on kitten…” He purred, advancing slightly towards me, “Pretty, pretty please?” He pouted

“Don’t you remember what happened last time I worked for you?” I retorted, glowering at him.

“Ah, but Doll, that’s why I want you!” He exclaimed happily, “Put aside the whole bomb thing kitten and you’re a good business women!”

I continued to eye him with distrust, not believing a word. He noted my distrust and sighed dramatically, “Look to sweeten the deal how abou’ I don’t interfere in anythin’ you do? Your club, your rules. I just asked for some of the profit.” He explained, gesturing with his palms faced upwards as he explained.

I still didn’t trust him. This was beyond suspicious.

“Why?” I snapped, on guard at his promises. “What’s in it for you?”

“Well, doll, you see.” He began, stepping closer so his rested his hand on my arm and I flinched at the touch, though he didn’t remove his hand. “I don’t like being in someone’s debt ya’ see.” I frowned up at him, who’s debt was he in?

“Now, try as I might.” He pondered, releasing my hand and strolling to my right and waving his right arm dramatically in the arm whilst his other was tucked behind his back, “I cannot deny that you may have, possibly saved my life the night you returned to the mansion.” He admitted.

He glanced back over his shoulder at my look of shock before returning his attention forward again. “Now.” He started, spinning to face me again, “You may well not have been aware of this doll, but – none the less - sadly I am.” He stared at me severely, no humour in his eyes, his face completely serious , “So I have to even the playing field.”

I frowned at him, “What’s that got to do with this club?”

His grin returned at my confusion, his eyes lightening once more as though someone had flicked a switch, “You need a job don’t you?” He probed, stepping toward me, I nodded. “You need something to do – a project?” He asked slyly, taking another step, “A reason to get up in the morning?” Another step. We now stood incredibly close - something I ought to be used to due to how often it seemed to happen – but I wasn’t. I could feel the heat radiating off his naked torso and I felt it go straight to my cheeks as I couldn’t stop myself blushing deeply – I just hoped he couldn’t see in the dim light of the darkened club.

He stared intensely at me, trying to wear down any more of my resolve. His eyes were so intense - the gaze hitting so deep - that I felt naked before him, all emotions and thoughts laid bare to him. I couldn’t seem to look away - my whole vision filled with his blue eyes - so I did the only thing I could and screwed my eyes shut.

The Joker’s presence lingered around me for a few moments; his gaze feeling like it was burning my skin as it roamed my face.

Then I suddenly couldn’t hear is low growl or harsh breathing. I snapped my eyes open but he was already gone.

“Humour me.” Came the purr from the darkness of the club.

Tag @theartistdetective, @viraldrag

[drtanstravels]

I’m now entering my fifth year of keeping this blog and it has seen me in some strange and embarrassing predicaments. You can go back and read almost any post written about us being anywhere in the world and there is a pretty decent chance I’ve put my foot in it at some point. This one is about a day when those type of incidents seemed to occur one after another, it just happened to be the first day of the year and a new decade. I’m mainly writing this for my own benefit so I can hopefully one day in the future look back on 01/01/2020 and laugh.

Our view of New Year’s Eve at 7:30pm

We are hardly ever home for the entire holiday period so the past few weeks have consisted of seemingly endless parties, dinners, and functions with friends, family, and colleagues, as well as showing visiting family members around, and after a while it all gets a bit draining. I’m not a big fan of crowds or house parties, especially when I don’t know a whole lot of people, particularly in Singapore where most people only talk about their work. If you don’t have a mutual interest, it’s hard to interact with anyone and it’s borderline impossible for me to join a conversation on a topic I know nothing about. For New Year’s Eve, some of Anna’s friends and colleagues had booked a suite at the Fullerton Hotel in Boat Quay and we had a great night of just eating, drinking, and listening to bad music. Now we just had one more day of festivities to go and then it would all be over for another year.

Wednesday, January 1, 2020 Considering that we had arrived back home from our New Year’s Eve celebration at about 3:00am, we were in surprisingly good shape when we woke up. One of Anna’s best friends, Roshini Prakash, is from a quite well to do Indian family here in Singapore and they have a tradition where they always throw an enormous party at their house on New Year’s Day. Nobody really makes plans for New Year’s Day except to sit on the couch and watch TV all day so I thought it was odd, but apparently this party happens every year, I’m just never around for it or I have friends in town. Anna’s dad had also booked a restaurant for dinner at 5:00pm that afternoon before some of Anna’s visiting relatives leave town. We’ve tried multiple times to explain to him that nobody under the age of 85 eats dinner at 5:00pm, but that is the exact appeal to him — The restaurant is empty at that time. So, to end the festive season all I had to do was survive yet another party and an obscenely early family dinner and it would be all finished. It seemed simple enough.

I was finishing a cup of coffee while watching the basketball, but soon it was time to leave for Roshini’s party so I went to the bathroom to use the toilet and then have a shower. Not long after I had sat down to go about my business, our cleaner unexpectedly showed up. She usually cleans our house on a Wednesday, we just assumed she wouldn’t come on New Year’s Day, but I guess we were wrong. The first part of our cleaner’s routine is to go into our bathroom to get our washing basket, but this was probably the worst possible time for her to do so, so Anna started talking to her, stalling her long enough for me to finish up, flush, and then get in the shower so she could hear the water running, thus allowing her to know there was someone in there while also maintaining my dignity. Crisis averted.

Soon we were on our way to the party and I knew this was going to be a rather large event, as I had been to this house before and they have pet toucans! I’m not kidding, this is a portion of their backyard:

They used to have cranes as pets as well, but they got old and both died recently. Anyway, I had clearly underestimated the sheer magnitude of this party — The entire front yard had been professionally converted into a canvas pavilion for the day with fans installed in its roof. They had also hired chefs to set up tables and stalls making different dishes like in a hawker centre, as well as waiters and bar staff. On top of this there was an ice-cream cart and Roshini told us that they had even hired someone to professionally tie the saris for her, her three sisters, and their mother. There were well over 100 people in attendance, both inside the house and out, but as soon as I entered the gate I was immediately approached enthusiastically by a Singaporean-Chinese boy who couldn’t have been any older than 12 or 13 years old. “Wow, you’re really tall!” he said excitedly, staring me straight in the eyes. Now, I worked with kids long enough to know that that wasn’t particularly standard conduct for a boy of that age so I decided to humour him. “Yes, I am, some people here find it a little intimidating,” I said, but it was his reply that caught me off-guard. “They’re just people, I find it quite attractive!” he said, still staring at me without blinking. Being told you’re attractive at a party by a teenage boy is probably flattering when you’re a girl around the same age, but not so much when you’re a 40-year-old man so my initial assumption was correct, I was later informed that he had recently been diagnosed with Asperger syndrome, but it was pretty evident from the outset. Being a teenager with Asperger’s must be tough, but this kid was intense and was infatuated by me. I decided to grab some food from one of the many stalls set up out the front, particularly the squid curry, when I felt a tug on my Simpsons t-shirt. “I think The Simpsons really means ‘simpletons,'” he said with the same enthusiasm as earlier so I spoke with him for a while, but the constant intensity began to get a bit much. Anna and I found a seat in another part of the house to eat, me returning for more curried squid, before going upstairs to chat with Roshini and some other friends, as well as take a break from the boy downstairs. You know he’s getting a tad overbearing when I opt to sit in a room full of infants watching Paw Patrol at full volume. I’m just glad I hadn’t done my hair, instead wearing a cap as usual, otherwise all of the kids might’ve thought I was Ryder from the show, we do look kind of similar.

Pat, Anna, their friend Shyammi, and Roshini at another party a few nights prior

I was sitting on a sofa for a while in the kids room, managing to drift in and out of a light nap, but when I awoke and started talking to Anna, Roshini, and Pat I noticed something wasn’t right; her bindi, the traditional decoration that Indian women wear on their foreheads, was a little off-centre for Roshini and this caused a bit of a predicament for me — Would it be culturally insensitive to tell an Indian woman that her head adornment isn’t quite in the right spot? I mean, I do consider her a friend, but is it crossing a line to point it out to her, especially at an enormous party thrown by her family at their house to which I was an invitee, no less? This conundrum gnawed at me for a few minutes, but things like this, objects that aren’t straight or properly centred, really tend to bug me so I decided to tell her. Perhaps I could be on the autism spectrum alongside the boy downstairs. I was a little apprehensive at first when approaching the topic, but Roshini wasn’t getting any subtle hints so I just had to tell her outright. “Rosh, your thing on your head isn’t quite in the middle.” A look of shock washed over her face, leading me to believe I should’ve kept my mouth shut. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” she screamed. “It’s going to be like that in all of the photos!” I guess it is okay to tell them and Roshini kept peeling the bindi off and trying to get it centred, each time followed by a “How about now?” Every attempt, however, ultimately made it worse so in the end she asked me to peel it off and put it in the centre, a kind of strange request for the only white man in the room.

A bit after the sticker debacle was sorted I needed to go to the bathroom so I asked Rosh we’re it was and she pointed me in the direction of a woman’s bedroom that had an ensuite so I went in and locked the ensuite door. Almost immediately after the stream started, a man and a woman entered the room and were talking quite loudly. I figured they may have just come up to get something so I decided to play it cool and just wait for them to leave. However, that didn’t happen and I was beginning to worry that one of them may try to enter, but if I were to leave at this point they might think I was taking a shit in their room, much like the situation with the cleaner that morning at home. I finally decided the best course of action was to open the door, but not exit, just in case I walked in on something I’m not supposed to see. When I opened the door I saw the drape part of a sari fly up in the air, followed by a startled Indian woman frantically shrieking at the top of her voice, “Who is it, who is it, who is it, who is it?!?” I sheepishly replied, “It’s Tim” and was told that I could exit via the second door in the bathroom leading directly to the hallway, one that I didn’t think could be used due to the fact that there was a washing basket and other things in front of it. I snuck out that side entrance of the bathroom and discreetly took my original seat again.

After the second bathroom related incident for the day it was almost time to leave for our afternoon dinner on the other side of the country with Anna’s family so we went back down to say our goodbyes. I sat in an armchair before leaving and was approached by Roshini’s rather loud sister, Pavi, who was still laughing hysterically and felt the need to inform all remaining guests of how I almost walked in on her getting changed out of her sari from her own personal bathroom. She obviously felt a bit bad for me due to how innocently awkward the whole situation was and I guess we had just bonded for life at that moment over a situation of mutual fear and embarrassment. She gave me a hug goodbye and we were off. We went to dinner with the family, but Anna and I weren’t hungry due to the fact that we had barely finished lunch. Dinner went without a hitch, excluding when Anna’s father walked out of a bathroom while looking in the opposite direction and bumped into a waitress, knocking a dish she was serving to another table out of her hands. It had been a strange beginning to the year and it was barely even dark when we arrived home so what better way to finish off a bizarre day than watching Don’t F**K with Cats, a documentary series about a guy who used to make videos of himself killing kittens online, and then moving on to far worse acts. To top off the night I started getting a stomachache and bloated up, constantly feeling the need to go to the toilet, but nothing happening. I guess it was a result of too much of the squid curry, but it also signalled an end to the perpetual celebrations that had plagued the past three weeks.

So I started a new decade with a day that included:

Me almost getting walked in on by our cleaner while I was taking a dump

Getting told at a party by a teenage boy that I was “attractive”

Having an internal conflict over whether I should tell an Indian woman at her family’s party that her bindi wasn’t quite in the right spot

Almost walking in on her sister getting dressed after being told to use the toilet in her bedroom

Giving myself a stomachache by eating too much curry.

Not the best beginning, but it was great wrapping up 2019 with meeting up with Emily and Jamie, their kids, Marcus and Maya, and hanging out with Robin and Kat again. Next time you hear from me will be in mid-January when we return from a cruise from Sydney to New Caledonia to celebrate the 40th birthday of my oldest friend, the best man at our wedding, and I at his, Shane Worthington.

Hanging out with Wortho on what I think was my ninth birthday

If the first day is anything to go by, the '20s can only go up from here I'm now entering my fifth year of keeping this blog and it has seen me in some strange and embarrassing predicaments.