#babsthegingerqueen

I will preface this by saying I have just consumed 1.5 servings of tequila. I don’t know if that will affect what I say, but... yeah.

I personally think that Episode I is probably the most well constructed of the prequels solely (and I mean solely) because it starts from a straightforward premise and follows through with that premise effectively. I will not give it high praise, but it at least sees its story through to the end with minimal issues. The intricacies of the romantic entanglements and overblown politics of the latter prequels aren’t as fleshed out and thus cannot be as thoroughly effed-up as they will be in the later films. Episode I’s narrative structure is not fancy. it’s not good, but it’s not bad. It suffers, as all the prequels do, from poor dialogue and bland acting, and uniquely suffers from the most screentime allotted to Jar Jar, but on the whole, it’s a decent film. It also has the most satisfying climax and ending of the three. We get the fight with Maul, Obi-Wan’s coming-of-age, the passing of the torch from Qui-Gon to Obi-Wan, and the foreshadowing with Anakin. All very enjoyable, with a nice combination of closure and cliffhanger wrapped up in a bow. Also, added bonus, while little Anakin may be bratty and annoying, he is at least not perpetually horny and angsty, which I see as a definite plus. 

Episode III is somewhat better constructed, but it absolutely falls apart at the end. As I told a friend, Episode III is tolerable for most of its running time, and absolutely tanks at the end (after Anakin turns to the dark side). Episode III has a very fatalistic feel to it, but in a good way. You as the audience sort of know what’s coming, and you know that Anakin’s going to go bad in some way. But then he does go bad, but like... at the drop of a hat. There’s no real build up, no satisfying motivation for him to do so. They absolutely hamstring Padme’s character to give Anakin the Man Pain™ needed to justify his turn to the dark, but it’s just not enough to suspend my disbelief. I’m just left with a disappointed feeling in both Anakin and Padme. (Lost the will to live? LOST THE WILL TO LIVE???) The fight between Obi-Wan and Anakin is pretty fun to watch, but the pacing (particularly at the end) is really wonky and not all the scenes make sense. It’s WORLDS better than Episode II, but not quite as unoffensive as Episode I. And that’s the main difference between I and III. I is not good. It’s just very unoffensive, because it is quite simple in structure. Episode III has a lot more moving parts, a lot more subplots, and a lot higher emotional stakes, which gives it a lot more to screw up. And unfortunately for III, it screws up most of its narrative promises to the viewer and ends with a fizzle. Some of its struggles are holdovers from II, such as the sexism shown towards Padme. Another example is its bungling of the complicated Jedi/Senate politics, which I’m very bitter about because it could have been so good. Politics is also something that could have been interesting that Episode I made exceptionally boring, but in Episode I, politics was a plot device. In Episode III, politics are a character device, which makes their bungling all the more catastrophic to the quality of the movie. There’s a lot in Episode III that could have been amazing, but wasn’t. And perhaps that is the deciding factor for me to rank I above III. Episode I had a (fairly) low bar in terms of plot and construction. It was a simple premise and a simple execution. There were problems, but overall, it is enjoyable. But III set its ambitions so high, that when it failed to deliver on those ambitions, even if it has more interesting ideas than I, the viewer still leaves with a more disappointed taste in their mouth.

Meanwhile, Episode II is just... bad. It’s just bad, okay? The romance is bad, Anakin’s motivations are bad, bad writing, bad dialog, bad pacing, bad mullets, it’s just... it’s just bad. They made Sir Christopher Lee look bad. SIR CHRISTOPHER LEE. Add to that the CGI that has NOT aged well and the absolutely abominable sexism and male-gaze corniness that was thrust upon poor Padme, and it’s just... nothing about it is good. I hate it.

...

You know what’s so beautiful about Max, that sets him apart in the holocaust literature subgenre? he represents the beautiful, hidden role of the Jewish man who never, for a second, took his oppression laying down. For Liesel and Rudy, resisting the Third Reich is just a part of being a naïve kid. That’s what draws Max to them, but they have no idea of the magnitude of the government’s power. Max does. He’s seen it firsthand. But that never stopped him. If he had to stand alone and take down Hitler with just his fists, so be it.

And you know what? Given the chance, I fully believe he could’ve done it. We, as readers, are used to the story of the holocaust victim who loses the will to live—who is content to fade away. Never Max Vandenburg. Death met Max, and death ran away when he raised his fists. Max is overwhelmingly human in his fierce need to survive.

i’m so glad someone finally requested space vodka dad

coran mentally refers to pidge as “the small one”

[hunk cooks something] coran, who thinks it’s fucking delicious but is very petty: “yeah it’s just. i mean it’s pretty good i suppose, though i prefer the good ol’ goo :/”

he’s got a potty mouth

little allura learned curse words from him

“oh quiznak– wait jugat– wait no uh, those are bad words princess, please don’t say– ah quiznak–”

one time shiro sprained his ankle and coran just kinda tossed him over his shoulder and carried him all the way to the med bay without blinking

lance thinks that young coran’s poses and sleeveless shirts are like. peak fashion

english infuriates him

[hunk fist bumps coran] “coran that was so cool!” “cool?” “oh it’s a slang term on earth that means ‘really impressive’”

[lance pats coran on the back] “coran that was fire!!” “what? what’s on fire-” “no no i mean that was really impressive”

those are- those are opposite words what the hell–

This is small boob privilege

babsthegingerqueen replied to your post “i hope this trend of wearing bralettes instead of actual bras never...”

i hope this trend encourages ppl to make bralettes for large boobed friends

stilesstays replied to your post “i hope this trend of wearing bralettes instead of actual bras never...”

me and my boobs cant relate

Honestly I think the furthest homophobia in the universe could get would do with reproduction

Yes, I wholeheartedly agree, and even that would be situation-specific.

Like, I have very detailed headcanons about the Fire Family that I ran with, and that includes the Crowned Princess being bisexual and having a formerly serious girlfriend. Izumi would have never asked her to break up, but also super didn’t want Iroh taking the throne because he’s kind of...well, I script him as a wild-card anyway.

The point is, bending hereditary monarchs would have more pragmatic concerns, but even there I don’t think there’d be judgement or oppression. So it kind of just depends on the family and junk.

I’ve actually thought about this a lot--and essentially, the answer would be no, there was never a moment. Though their relationship did eventually become romantic, it was still friendship first and foremost. So in a sense they had always loved each other. But essentially, romantic love didn’t develop between them until their early twenties. It’s a long story, but Kerza eventually completes her schooling, and at around the age of 19, acts on her desire to leave Germany at large in an attempt to leave the war behind and start over: as she puts it, “This isn’t home anymore...it stopped being home a long time ago. I can’t live the rest of my life in a graveyard.” 

This devastates Milo, as he has become increasingly withdrawn since returning from combat--obsessed with finding a way to rekindle the happy simplicity that had defined their lives before everything crumbled. He tries desperately to convince her to stay in Germany, as it had been hard enough to watch her leave the bombed-out shell that had once been their home town. Kerza, on the other hand, wants him to come and escape with her: to travel to places untouched by air strikes and fire and the ever-encroaching threat of communism, as she’d been watching Milo sink further into depression and alcoholism with each passing moment. This causes an extreme falling out between them, and in 1947, after visiting Greece and then across the pond to the US, Kerza is offered a full scholarship at a university in Dublin, and takes it.

Milo is resentful of all this, for he sees this as her abandoning him; but also because she seems to be moving forward while he remains unable to do so. They rarely correspond for the next year, and only see each other once when she returns briefly to Germany for Christmas. However, in early 1948, Milo’s elder brother, Fritz, encourages him to swallow his pride and accept Kerza’s manifold invitations to visit her in Dublin; and it’s during this and recurrent visits that something of a romantic relationship develops between them.