#i also get why many get upset to jareth's interest

[ic-napology]

Labyrinth rant because I love it and need to vent it out

So Jim Henson's Labyrinth is my new fixation.

I kinda wish it was one of my childhood movies, I'm sure I would have loved it just like I loved The Neverending Story, but I'm also happy I discovered it now that I can decode the subtext in it.

It speaks a lot to me. I still am very keen on escaping from reality through fantasy as a coping mechanism, just like Sarah. I can't help but see her adventure not as real, but as a dream become physical. For me, what we see is just a manifestation of an internal struggle. That means her own mind is giving herself the chance to understand a lesson. She's actually fighting not to let her own tendency to escapism dominate her this much anymore, at least not to the point of discarding serious responsabilities. That's why Jareth, who embodies that, is a selfish, bullying tyrant and the Labyrinth is in decay. Reminds me of Scar's reign lol

I think it makes sense that Jareth embodies both her love for fantasy since childhood and the ghost of sexuality. Both (would) inspire her the utmost pleasure, just since two different points of her life.

I love Jareth's and Sarah's dynamic, in that sense. I love her struggle against the temptations he represents. I love how perfectly tempting he is. Yet I'm so satisfied by her final decision to let him down. About her love for fantasy, she's too mature. About sexuality, she's still too young. Both things need to be limited.

I also love how the conclusion isn't about getting rid of some part of you in order to grow up, but to balance all you parts. Your seek of happiness and pleasure and what it inspires it don't need to be erased, just not weight too much. It implies that you don't have to have shame and get rid of anything, every part of you is inherently good just because it helps to build you. It's up to you to balance the components.

It's reassuring and empowering.

[escher-room-with-a-view]

elaborating on my autism headcanons!!

- sarah -

her special interests are usually between one and three. once she develops a special interest, it stays with her for years; in fact, some of her interests, like reading and writing, have been with her for as long as she can remember. her other special interests are theatre and arts and crafts; the latter is quite a broad category, but it includes things like sewing, felting, embroidery, watercolor painting, book binding, and making collages. sarah delves further into her interests the more they’re encouraged, but she also uses them as coping mechanisms to feel better about or distract herself from the real world around her. in the cases of acting and crafts, she uses these to express how she feels, whereas reading and writing are used more as forms of escapism. her favorite genre of literature is fantasy, though she doesn’t mind any particular fantasy subgenres and is willing to broaden her knowledge of the genre by reading most of them. meanwhile, she isn’t anywhere near as selective when it comes to theatre. so long as there’s a soundtrack and cast that resonates with her, she doesn’t care if it’s opera or ballet, tragedy or comedy, contemporary or dating back thousands of years. indeed, she doesn’t ever feel like her knowledge of theatre is complete—and while it feels unattainable, she’d like to develop at least a cursory knowledge of every play there is.

sarah stims by talking to herself, chewing on her lips or hair, pacing, doing needlework, doodling, and absentmindedly writing. she also has echolalia, repeating the same word or phrase to herself either out loud or in her head; certain phrases can get stuck in her head for weeks on end. she’s rather quiet when she talks to herself—in fact, most of the time, she just whispers or mutters. furthermore, when pacing, she walks in circles or back and forth. she doesn’t use stim toys very much because they don’t appeal to her, though she does like the idea of making her own stim toys and other objects, such as slime or reversibles.

her relationship with routine is complicated. on the one hand, she doesn’t take change well and has difficulty adapting to new situations, especially those that are unfamiliar and stressful. this means that, to some extent, she prefers it when things stay the same. however, this is more of a general status quo sort of sameness that she likes to maintain. on a smaller level, she’s easily bored by sameness and likes it when at least one novel or interesting thing happens each day. for instance, if sarah has gone to the same school her entire life, she’s going to be upset—even devastated—if circumstances force her to change schools without any sort of preparation or warning. however, if her commute to the school every day is identical, she’ll grow bored of it easily and may one day consider taking a different path there just to see what happens.

sarah tends to struggle with eye contact and, on the rare occasions that she wants to maintain it, has to force herself to do so. it makes her immensely uncomfortable to look someone in the eye for an extended period of time. while irene sometimes mistakes this for her not listening, sarah is trying to explain that it’s not something within her control.

she is hyposensitive to (and indeed fascinated with) colors and lights. however, loud noises bother her and can be painful for her. sarah also prefers not to be touched unless she initiates the contact first. being touched without her permission startles her and makes her immensely uncomfortable, as does being surrounded or cornered; all of these can easily overwhelm her in the right circumstances. she hates haunted houses for this exact reason. her hyposensitivity also extends to texture and physical sensations, albeit not in the same way; rather than being obsessed with or actively seeking out sensations and textures, sarah is so hyposensitive to both of them that she sometimes doesn’t even notice sensory input unless it’s excruciatingly painful or needs constant adjusting. her senses of taste and smell are neither above nor below what’s considered average, though she has a preference for sweets, white meat, and anything crunchy. 

something else that she and jareth have in common is the fact that their living spaces, specifically their rooms, both have to be organized in a very specific way. any alterations in this organization are bothersome and overwhelming to the both of them; this includes rearranging or removing objects, changing the location of the room entirely, or changes in things like how much light or air the room receives. 

- jareth -

he tends to have a lot of special interests at a time, and they change often. his current ones are architecture, illusions, astronomy, fashion, humans/anthropology/sociology, various pseudosciences, and surrealist art. however, in the past he’s been interested in ornithology, geology, romanticism in art and literature, the labyrinth’s prehistory, wordplay and rhetorical/literary devices, cats, different types of governments, letter writing, collecting trinkets and antiques, choreography, and many, many more. living for such a long time has provided him with the opportunity to both develop and engage in a wide variety of passions. in fact, some of these past special interests still remain with him today and simply aren’t considered his “main” ones anymore because they’re not as strong.

his favorite pseudosciences are graphology, phrenology, and astrology. he also likes to try and determine the future via methods like alectromancy, astromancy, augury, scrying, and lithomancy.

he stims using crystals/via contact juggling. this is usually when he’s understimulated, absentminded, or just needs something to occupy himself with. it’s also enjoyable to him. he has other ways of stimming, though, many of which are meant to self-soothe. for instance, feeling nervous or excited might drive him to shake one leg or hand; he also feels compelled to chew on things in such instances. when overwhelmed, he scratches his arms as one would if they had an itch. jareth is trying to stop doing this and is thus looking for alternatives. he views stim toys as some of humanity’s greatest inventions. if he lived aboveground, i imagine he’d have different versions of the same stim toys for different purposes: neutral colors when he needs to prevent overstimulation, bright colors when he’s just stimming because it makes him happy.

he doesn’t mind loud noises, but he is sensitive to bright lights and colors. in fact, he’s so nonchalant toward noise that, when he listens to music, he likes for it to be as loud as possible. in his mind, good music is never quite loud enough. there are certain textures and tastes he doesn’t like, which drives him to be very selective with what he wears and what he eats. with regards to clothing, he likes silk and leather but can’t stand wool, denim, anything baggy or distressed, or velvet. because he conducts magic through his hands, he has sensitive palms; his gloves allow him to touch things without being bothered by them, while also allowing him to use magic undeterred. he’s especially sensitive around food, preferring things that are bland or savory and refusing to eat anything with a consistency that’s too soft. for instance, he finds eggs revolting in most forms.

without a routine, jareth tends to become dejected or burnt out. unfortunately, though, his frequent executive dysfunction makes it difficult for him to plan out and adhere to routines without frequent reminders—which, when they come in the form of goblins, usually annoy him more than anything else. this is why he hasn’t had a proper schedule in years. it’s a bit of a vicious cycle; his unhappiness has led to a lack of motivation, and his difficulty creating something he can stick to has made him even more unhappy. he works best with clear, written instructions that are placed where he can see them. he especially needs specific times to eat and sleep; without them, irritability and physical discomfort set in. in the event that he does have a routine, changes that might seem small to others are often nerve-racking to him.

though he sometimes uses eye contact and close proximity to others to intimidate, he genuinely feels uncomfortable without eye contact and has difficulty remembering to mind others’ personal space most of the time. he can be quite touchy-feely when he cares about someone—even platonically—and isn’t afraid of showing it, but he doesn’t really know when or if to back off unless explicitly told to.

- didymus -

when it comes to special interests, he and sarah have a lot in common. they both love drama and literature; however, didymus has a particular interest in folklore, both that of humans and that of the labyrinth. he only has two special interests: literature (including plays) and history. both of these influenced his desire to become a knight and continue to influence his behavior, as he seeks to emulate the idea of a noble and valiant knight to a T. he has some difficulty responding appropriately to or understanding various social cues. as a result, he spends most of his nights and some of his mornings scripting out how his day is going to go: how he’s going to speak to other people, how they might respond to him, and how he’s going to respond to their responses. whenever didymus makes a new friend, he puts effort into studying their mannerisms and personality so he can adequately pinpoint how they might behave toward him and thus figure out how he’s going to interact with them. furthermore, he speaks and acts like a gallant knight from a fairytale or play because of his constant reading. his consumption of literature provides him with a consistent model of behavior that’s bound by a set of rules, unlike the behavior of people in the real world—which can often be unpredictable, and whose rules are less coherent. as a result, didymus believes that emulating the kinds of characters he admires will make others admire him in turn, and make him easier to understand. 

his favorite earth authors are william shakespeare, miguel de cervantes, and alexandre dumas. he is also especially fond of arthurian legend and various human mythologies, such as norse, celtic, and japanese.

one of his favorite ways to stim is by chasing or wagging his tail. he also stims by absentmindedly practicing swordfighting moves with his cane, scratching behind his ear with a hind paw, pacing, and talking to himself. pacing is the only one out of all of these that doesn’t lift his spirits; rather, he does it when he’s thinking because it helps his ideas flow. didymus is most inclined to chase his tail or scratch his ears when he’s bored, practice his parries when excited, and talk to himself when he’s overwhelmed. in the last case, this is often combined with pacing; together, both stims provide a good release for emotions he has difficulty expressing otherwise. when didymus talks to himself, he is unlike sarah in that he doesn’t do so quietly. his volume remains the same as it usually is in a conversation; when he grows passionate, it raises accordingly. sarah introduced him to stim toys; his favorite ones are the ones that make noise, whether they click or woosh or do something else. he also uses dog toys as substitutes and enjoys the ones that squeak, though he has to keep his own set somewhere where ambrosius won’t find it.

his strongest sense by far is his sense of smell; it isn’t necessarily a lot of scents at once that can be upsetting for him, but rather scents that he finds unpleasant. these include sharp or chemical smells such as vinegar, ammonia, spices, perfume, citrus, alcohol, cleaning products, and herbs. aside from these, there aren’t any smells he can confidently say he doesn’t like. he also has hypersensitive hearing and prefers soft classical music, hymns and chants, or music that dates back thousands of years. he hates the sound of bells chiming, loud drums, or thunder; the last of these especially bothers him, though he would never admit it. he was once bothered by the sound of metal objects clanging together when he was a kit, but he appears to have outgrown that in particular. he has poor color vision, as do most canines, so bright colors don’t affect him at all. he finds flashing lights mildly frightening in some cases and annoying in others.

to didymus, routine is the thief of joy. he craves adventure every day and hates when things are the exact same; even having to do the same task in the same way as he did the day before, for instance, is enough to bore him out of his skull. as a result, he likes to mix up how he does things by placing his daily activities in different orders, doing them with his friends, or replacing some activities with others entirely. for instance, he, hoggle, and ludo take turns with household chores—not only so that they can share responsibilities, but so that didymus can have time to go off and pursue his knightly dreams. much of the time, his friends are willing to accompany him on his adventures so long as he’s able to keep them safe—and so long as they can be home by dinner.

he doesn’t really like eye contact, but he tries to maintain it because he thinks doing so is respectful. he does see one perk to his small stature; he’s too short to meet eyes with most people, so his lack of eye contact usually isn’t judged. it wouldn’t be either way because almost everyone in the labyrinth either is ND or knows someone who is ND, but he really does want to maintain eye contact because the books he reads make him think that it’s the proper thing to do. his friends are trying to convince him that he doesn’t need to make eye contact if it makes him uncomfortable; however, because he seems to believe that it’s a rule, he has difficulty convincing himself not to follow it. in fact, didymus is very much inclined to follow the rules that are provided to him and becomes anxious when encouraged or required to break them. without clear rules, the world becomes nonsensical and unpredictable—and therefore upsetting—to him. it was his idea to propose a set of rules for his friends’ home; they accepted and have worked together to write them down so that guests know how to behave.

he gets along really well with the wiseman; despite his typical impatience, didymus is one of few people who actually have the patience to listen to the wiseman. in fact, didymus isn’t just patient with him; his ramblings actively intrigue didymus, and whenever he has the opportunity he makes his contributions as big as he possibly can. didymus really appreciates it when his friends let him infodump, and he figures it’s only fair that he should let others do the same. in fact, didymus also places a lot of value on fairness; it’s the whole reason he opposes jareth in the first place.

[imagine-loki]

Packless Monsters

TITLE: Packless Monsters CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 31/? AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you’re a werewolf who ends up in the company of Loki in the Avenger’s tower after saving Pepper’s life RATING: M NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 click here

    The sun was up when you woke.

    Woke?

    The morning after the start of Winter’s Moon?

    You didn’t sleep the first night of Winter’s Moon. Not since you were a child. You curled in a ball and shook and cried and fought for control against the wolf all night. It was a hard, hard battle every year.

    You opened your eyes quickly, scared of what could have happened to change the routine, and found yourself curled around your Loki. Of course, that’s what had changed. And it was just like so many mornings that you woke up with him because you were an incorrigible cuddler…except for the distinct lack of clothing all around. You flushed as the events of the previous night finally came back to you. “Stop that,” Loki scolded lightly, bopping your nose with a long finger. “No need for embarrassment or shame. We had an enjoyable evening, one that I would gladly repeat, and I am quite glad I got to share it with you, my darling.” You relaxed at his open honest, his straightforwardness was reassuing.

    You kissed him lightly. “I love you,” you told him softly and laid your head on his chest for another minute until you realized that you really did need to get up. “As much as I love cuddles, I need a shower.” You licked his nose as you climbed over him to get out of the bed.

    “Annoying puppy,” he grumbled, rubbing the wet spot on his nose indignantly. You were laughing as you slowly, sorely made your way to find your nice hot shower. He chuckled, knowing exactly why you were sore. You turned around and stuck your tongue out at him.

    “Annoying god,” you grumbled right back at him. He laughed harder.

    *

    The hot shower helped and you carefully dressed in a pair of flannel pajama pants and a soft black shirt that had originally been Loki’s. A messy bun and fuzzy socks and you were comfortable to lounge around the tower for a lazy Sunday. Your clothing choice and disheveled hair were also carefully calculated to tell your boyfriend that you were very much not interested in partaking in more of last night’s activity. At least not right now. Loki was smart enough to get the message and wouldn’t press or pry. The hot shower hadn’t removed the smell of Loki from your skin. That wasn’t going away anytime soon. Jareth had been able to smell that you hadn’t had sex with Loki yet. Well, he’d be able to tell now that you had, any wolf would…

    Loki was waiting in the hall for you, leaning against the wall next to your bedroom door, his nose buried in a book as per usual. You smiled at how adorable he was. You also noted that he was freshly showered as well, wearing black lounge pants and a green shirt. He had his hair tied back, except for the lovelock which hung loose. He was dressed just as comfortably and casually as you were. He looked over at you and smiled warmly, snapping his book shut and vanishing it as he did. You stood up on your toes to give him a light kiss.

    “So, what are we up to today, little wolf?” he asked, though he looked you over as if sensing the difference in you, but not quite being able to put his finger on what it was. You couldn’t help him figure it out either.

    “A nice lazy Sunday,” you replied with a smile. “I was thinking Harry Potter movie marathon,” you took his hand and started toward the elevator.

    “Books, Harry Potter, tea, and my darling’s company? Sounds like a wonderful Sunday indeed,” he said warmly. He then looked down at your joined hands, concerned, then touched your forehead. “Are you alright? You’re…cold,”

    You laughed. “Compared to you? I’m not cold,” you teased him. His hand was still cold compared to yours.

    He frowned, obviously wanting a direct answer. “Very well, you’re less warm than usual,” he conceded.

    “I’m fine,” you finally told him. His frown deepened. You sighed heavily, damn human-shaped lie detector. “Fine. I can’t tell you. Is that better?”

    “No, but I respect that answer better than you trying to sneak a lie past me,” he replied, his tone teasing. You huffed and stuck your tongue out at him.

    “Annoying god,” you grumbled at him, but laughed.

    You stiffened when you walked into the dining room to find the team eating breakfast. You didn’t want them to comment on last night. “Not one word, Stark,” you heard Nat threaten when she caught sight of you and Loki getting off the elevator.

    “Shellhead, if you say anything to upset my lady, I will not stop her from throwing you out of the window,” Loki warned, though his tone was pleasant, daring so he could watch Tony get defenestrated.

    “Sorry, Lo. If he does anything stupid, you’ll have to throw him yourself,” you replied, then immediately bit back a curse at the sudden pain behind your eyes. Your hand went to your head and you pulled the bottle of ibuprofen from your pocket. You’d had a feeling that you would have to answer questions today. “Seriously, that was enough to trigger the geas?” you growled as you threw back some of the pills, desperate for the sudden headache to go away. Loki gave you a concerned look and took a step closer, wanting to help, but not knowing how. You shook your head. You’d be ok.

    He turned his attention back to Tony. “Very well, I will throw you myself. It would be my absolute pleasure,” Loki added that last part with a mischievous grin over at you. You gave him a small smile in return and took your place at the table, pulling a couple of pancakes off the stack for yourself.

    Tony thought it over. You were a little Omega wolf and could be reasoned with as long as the wolf wasn’t in control. Loki couldn’t be reasoned with or distracted if he was upset. Tony was actually lucky he was getting a warning at all. Tony opened his mouth anyway. “So, what’s it like to be with a god? Is it true what the say about the endowment?” He asked, holding his hands like a foot apart, clearly asking about the size of certain piece of Loki’s anatomy. Like you’d tell him.

    Loki had a malicious malevolent glare on his face for an instant before it turned to a mischievous glint. “Brother…” Thor warned, catching the exact mood of Loki’s. Whatever he was up to, there was worse than the normal defenestration in store for Tony. Tony realized it too late.

    Loki ignored Thor and glided over to Tony with a predator’s grace. He was suddenly standing over Tony, who was leaning back in his chair, unsure of what Loki was up to. Loki moved, his face an inch from Tony’s. “If you would really like to know…” Loki purred in a seductive tone as he ran one finger down Tony’s cheek and jaw. “I am sure I could be convinced to give you a demonstration.” Tony blanched as this joke went in the exact opposite direction of where he had wanted it to. He didn’t know how to deal with it either.

    “I-I think I’d rather just throw myself out the window,” Tony pushed his chair back away from Loki, somehow blanched and flushed at the same time. This joke was really not going his way.

    “You were so eager a moment ago,” Loki moved forward again, seductive, maliciously teasing, and predatory, angry glint in his eyes.

    “Lo, just throw him out the window and be done with it. You’ve made your point and tortured the tin man enough,” you told Loki, laughing at the display. You weren’t threatened by Loki’s actions, he was playing, however maliciously. Tony wouldn’t make any stupid comments about this topic again in front of Loki.

    “As you wish, darling,” Loki was instantly back to normal. He lifted Tony from his chair easily and walked straight for the defenestration window. Instead of throwing Tony out, holding him by the throat and throwing him from that angle, he shifted Tony and threw him headfirst out the window like a javelin.

    “Impressive throw,” Nat commented.

    “That may be a new record,” Bruce added as he made the tallymark on the dry erase board next to the window.

    Loki nodded, accepting their praise and kissed the top of your head on his way to his chair next to yours. You’d gotten him a stack of pancakes while he was torturing Tony. He looked at your plate. “Love, that’s not enough, you eat like us,” Loki prodded you.

    “It’s plenty,” you replied carefully. Loki looked unhappy, but didn’t argue anymore. Tony rejoined you a few minutes later, stripping off the Ironman suit as he returned to the table.

    “I do have an actual question,” Cap started, hesitantly, directing the question to you.

    You nodded. “I’ll answer it if I can,”

    “Should we be expecting a repeat of last night?” Cap finally figured out how he wanted to word his question.

    It was a legitimate concern. You shook your head. “Not until next year,” you told him firmly. “I swear. I would have figured out how to warn you better, but I wasn’t sure you’d be affected. You’re not werewolves,” you added apologetically. You hadn’t meant to affect them all like that.

    “That’s a relief at least,” Nat commented. “I thought I was going to have to kick all of their asses last night. Which would have been fun, but they get so whiny when I hurt them,” she pouted and you laughed. The team promised that it was ok and they weren’t mad. There would just be precautions taken next year.

    *

    “C’mon, Sunday sparring,” Cap told everyone when breakfast was over. You all groaned.

    “Cap, I can’t-” you started.

    “Can’t shift?” he asked before you could finish the sentence and potentially trigger another stupid migraine. You nodded. That wasn’t all of it, but you couldn’t clarify. “That’s fine. Hand-to-hand today. C’mon,” he ordered.

    Groaning and grumbling, everyone headed down to the training room. Tony had had locker rooms built down here, so you had somewhere to change and leave your gross workout clothes after the training, which somehow were cleaned again before Cap called the next sparring day or training event. You were hesitant for this, but couldn’t argue, so you changed and made your way nervously to the training room.

    “Nat, Y/N, you’re up first,” Cap ordered.

    “Cap-” you started, but he didn’t seem to notice. So you stepped onto the mats. This was a terrible idea. You couldn’t tell them either. Stupid werewolf laws. You bowed to Nat, too many years of training ingrained in you to do otherwise, and settled into a stance. She settled into her own stance. She was on you in a flurry of movement and speed the second Cap called the match. It was speed you couldn’t hope to match today. You still had hard earned skill, though your punches lacked strength and your body just wouldn’t move like it was supposed to.

    Cap watched, observed, critiqued. After a short respite where Tony and Clint tried to take down Thor, you were called up again with daggers to spar Loki. This was a stupid idea, but Loki had been watching too. He knew something was wrong. He moved much slower than usual, letting you actually keep up with him, until Cap kept barking at you both that you were much faster than this and to move. You usually were much faster than this and much stronger than this. You couldn’t keep up, though you tried, you really, really tried.

    You fell hard on your ass to avoid getting sliced open by a dagger.

    “Yield!” you called desperately. You couldn’t keep trying to do this. You were going to get hurt.

    “What’s wrong with you today?” Cap asked. You glared at him for pressing the issue. You had just wanted to curl up with your Loki and watch Harry Potter. Was that too much to ask?

    “Fuck it, it’s worth the migraine for the rest of the day to have you all stop trying to figure out what’s going on and just torturing us all about it,” you grumbled as you got to your feet. You bit back the pain as the geas knew you were planning on breaking it. “I’m human. Until the next full moon,” you spat the words out. “That is Winter’s Moon. All of the female wolves are human and mortal, with none of the strength, speed, healing ability, or shifting ability of the wolf,” you told them all quickly, your hands going to your temples, as you fought back the black spots and whimpers of pain. Loki was there in an instant, his cold hands on your temples, magic soothing some of the pain, but only some. There was only so much even he could do.

    “That is why female wolves are not usually seen out in the world?” Cap asked, noting words you’d told them months ago. You nodded.

    “Biologically that’s impossible,” Tony protested.

    “It’s magic tincan, it doesn’t have to be possible,” you growled, pain making your temper sharp. “Biologically, I’m a werewolf of course, but for all intents and purposes, I’m human. The old stories say that our Lady, the moon, turns her back on her daughters for their sin of lust during Winter’s Heat, aka last night. I’m pretty sure it was old Catholic men who wrote those particular tales. The point remains, this is why I told you I can’t go on any missions for the next two weeks. It’s dangerous enough just to be out in public. I still smell like a werewolf to other wolves, I still am a werewolf, except without any of my abilities.” You whimpered, placing your forehead against Loki’s cool chest as the pain started radiating from your head down your neck, black splotches would have been overtaking your vision had you dared open your eyes. You had to stop talking before this got worse, but there was one more thing that had to be said.

    “The male wolves aren’t affected.”