THEYRE FINSIEHD

Proto Earth:

Or Ancient Earth, he was reborn after the collision (essentially his core/outer layers repairing themselves anew) and has no memory of it ever happening in solarballs. HOWEVER, headcanon, i like to think he has certain visions(?) of his past self? Like he stares into a part of vast space wondering why its so familiar. A lot of things give him weird deja vu like that. Its mainly bc of the (supposed?) remnants of Theia but also because he probably still has some proto earth in him.

Theia:

Theia is the mother of Luna, right? (Or well trchnically selene but yk) and since Luna was made out of Theia's remnants i also think he has visions from when Theia existed. Like, seeing through Theia's eyes when he's sleeping. Anyways, enuf abt him, Theia! I like to think Theia preferred to stand out from the others, and thus she would try to show off in many ways possible (like crossing other planets orbits and playing the ancient version of asteroid dodgeball) but aside from her competitive nature she was the most friendliest face there. She also liked shiny things, a bit of a hoarder really lol

Heres them interactin w the others :3<

been meaning to ask . who is the little organge fellow in your icon . is thay "wander over" . what are they like

THAT’S WANDER!!!! from over yonder^_^ hold on i have a million zillion other images of him too

he is The Friendliest Face In Outer Space <-show tagline. he’s just a nice friendly helpful fella who travels the galaxy with his best buddy sylvia doing good deeds and thwarting evil with love n friendship and banjo^_^ and he has serious psychological issues that never get delved into much due to both the show getting cancelled unfairly quickly and he is just too darn polite to burden others with his problems. but he clearly has extreeeeme self worth issues and also a baaaad case of OCD like his “going around helping folks” behavior is not only out of his nice kindness but is also literally a compulsion he physically cannot resist without major stress. he is so so compelling and such a well rounded well written interesting character and so so cutesies and also i am him and he is me [<-kinnie LOL]

he’s also just like THE most craig mccracken design ever which is awesome

“On August 16th 2013, Disney Channel fans took a journey into a beautiful galaxy, filled with wonderful planets, funny new friends, new dangerous evil baddies and they even got to meet the friendliest face in outer space, Wander as Craig McCracken presents Wander Over Yonder! Happy 10th Anniversary!” - WanderFan2000 

Happy Birthday, Wander! Here’s to ten years of Wandering the galaxy and helping folks!  Never hurts to help. 

Welcome to the world of PHENOMENON

WHAT IS PHENOMENON?

Phenomenon is a universe/in the works story I'm creating full of lore, episodic scenarios, and so much more!

WHO ARE THE MAIN CHARACTERS?

The story involves four main characters.

Max= The grumpy, closed off, but secretly a sweetheart character. He is very nonchalant and often huffs and groans at everything he sees.

Lucas= The Comedic relief, the loud, cocky, and arrogant character, but with a deeper story than you think

Cassie= The sweet, loveable, sunshine and preppy character who loves nothing but to give a smile on anyone's faces

Tobi= The non-human sidekick character, an alien who fell from space and crash landed into the backyard of their home.

(Reference photos)

WHAT IS THIS STORY?

In this world, there are things called "Supernaturals" roam their world. Some good, some neutral, and of course, some bad.

And that's when the main characters come in;

Max, Lucas and Cassie run a three person company called "Supernatural And Paranormal Retrieval Foundation" or SAPRF. It's all about capturing, retrieving and keeping away any bad supernaturals from harming others.

It was just the three of them at the time before Tobi came along.

Tobi is an alien that came from outer space, they seemed to have fallen from the skies and into the three's headquarters, ah..Backyard I mean. Despite being a company, they don't really have a..Building for said company. They get called freelancers pretty often.

At first they tried to contain Tobi, thinking she was a supernatural, but of course, they weren't. Not know what to do with him, they just kinda...Kept them there. And eventually she became apart of SAPRF.

WHAT IS A SUPERNATURAL?

Supernaturals are beings and/or items that have existed long before humans.

They come in many types, via monsters, items (cursed or charmed), spirits (with no memory of previous afterlife), and etc!

There are three types of supernaturals to look out for:

The tamed: tamed supernaturals are usually seen in environments that include humans, animals, and etc. They are most notably the nice and friendly supernaturals. They are also usually seen as guards for people and charms for others, if taken advantage of for selfish or bad gain, they become more..Less friendly.

The neutral: these supernaturals are often associated with being wild, and undecided beings. They slightly lack the friendliest at first sight, but it will become tamed or chaotic depending on how you treat it. So remember; "Always treat others how you want to be treated", supernaturals aren't just mystical creatures, they have morals, boundaries, and need just as much as humans do.

The chaos: these beings however...They are far from redemption and becoming tamed. They are vile things that want nothing but destruction and of course...Chaos. They are the most dangerous form of supernatural and are advised to keep away from. It's hard to tell if a supernatural is either one of a neutral or chaos being, so it's always best to be careful around both. It's either you're safe..Or you're screwed.

The chaos is why SAPRF exists in the first place, the danger of the chaos is too much, and their continuation only hurts others around them. Even if they put too much of a risk on their life with this job, they'd rather sacrifice themselves than let these supernaturals harm others..And hey, they haven't died yet, have they?

Into the unknown with you.

Neeku x Reader /Kaz x Twin Sister! Reader.

*Warning mentions of drinking, violence, and suicide!*.

You were sitting in a booth at Aunt Z's with your twin brother Kaz and your friends Synara, Torra, and Neeku celebrating the escape from Castilon and the First Order. You watched your friends all joking and laughing. While the pirates were drinking and wrestling eachother, and anyone stupid or drunk enough to challenge them. You took another shot, and went to sit at the bar and watched Kaz and Torra playing darts. "Careful Kaz, remember what happened last time?" you said laughing. The last time Kaz played darts with Torra, he somehow ended up with a dart in the butt. Kaz shot you an annoyed look. "Yeah, real funny Y/N". You heard a certain wheezing laugh beside you. Neeku he was you and Kaz's best friend. He's an amazing engineer, and the friendliest person you've ever met. He might be a little more than silly sometimes, but he sees the good in everyone and everything. No wonder he stole your heart. He wasn't the type of guy you had planned to fall for by any means, but you were definitely in love with him.

You don't dare tell him though. You didn't want to make things awkward between the two of you. But tonight, you were just tipsy enough to take hold of his hand. He looked at you, and the rest of the bar disappeared. He brought his hand up to your face, and leaned in. You could feel his breath on your face, and you leaned in to touch your lips to his. Laser blasts suddenly rang through the air, "NOBODY MOVE!" a stormtrooper said. "YOU ARE ALL GOING TO BE EXECUTED RIGHT AWAY!" You look over at Neeku, but it's too late, he's disappeared from your side. "Kaz!" you scream as you see him shot dead by a stormtrooper. "NO!". You somehow manage to run out of the bar to find Neeku and Yeager, but run straight into Tam. She's glaring at you with hate in her eyes. "You lied to all of us!". You put us All in danger!". "Tam stop! " You scream as she aims at you. You run as the you hear laser blasts chasing you down the hall. You make it to the outer market, and you're suddenly home on Hosnian Prime. You're met with the angry faces of your parents. Your father is furious, and your mother is crying and heartbroken. "You betrayed us all Y/N, you and your brother! Everyone is dead because of you!" your father yelled. You hear Tam's blaster behind you again, but this time the blast is so strong it illuminates everything in red. You turn around to see a giant laser blast hitting the planet!. Your heart stops beating as you hear millions of screams, the people of your world, and the people of the Colossus including Neeku beside you. You looked into his eyes, but he turned away from you with a look of resentment and betrayl before being enveloped in red. Everyone and everything you love was suddenly destroyed before your eyes. "NO!" you scream sitting up in your bed panting and sweating. You look around and see that you're in the area of Yegar's garage that you shared with Tam. 'The girl's area' as you both called it. Thinking about Tam gave you chills, after that nightmare. You got up and peaked over at the boy's side of the garage, to make sure you didn't wake Kaz and Neeku. You didn't. You sighed in relief to see them both alive and sleeping peacefully still shaking, and tear stained from your nightmare. You decided you needed some air. Or as much air as you can get on a ship in space. You open the door as quietly as possible, and wander aimlessly through the corridors. They were usually full of people, it was hard to tell the time, because you were in space. But after today, even the latest night drinker and worker was asleep, and the hall was deserted. You make your way to a large balcony type area. It's where you watched the first race between Kaz and Torra. You think about the day you arrived on Castilon, about your friends Hugh and Mia, about Tam and what you put her through, how you lied to her and Neeku for months, and about your parents. They were gone now, they were gone, and you could never make up with them. You hated yourself for fighting with them the day you and Kaz joined the resistance. The day you met your best friend, and the love of you life. The whole community of the Colossus took you both in, and treated you and your brother as one of them. And in return you lied and put all their lives in danger. How could you live with yourself?. You couldn't. You looked over the edge, and began to step over it.

The way down wasn't as deep as it was back on Castilon, but it was deep enough. You leaned forward and started to let go.

"Y/N!". You hear a familiar voice shout, and feel a pair of strong arms go around you pulling you back over the railing. You both fall backwards, and you land on top of the person who saved you. You stayed like that for a brief moment and they didn't let go of you. You panted heavily as you looked up and saw Neeku holding you tighty and panting too. He held you even closer and then put his hands on your shoulders. "What on Castilon were you thinking Y/N?! You could've... Neeku's eyes grew wide, as he realized what you were trying to do. "Y/N, w-were you about to commit suicide?". You nod shamefully and cry. "Yes, I can't live with all this guilt". "Me and Kaz have done nothing but disrupt and endanger the lives of every single person on the Colossus, and our parents are dead". "We didn't part on good terms, and now we can't ever make up with them". Neeku pulled you close again, and held you.

"Y/N, you and Kaz saved everyone today". "We all welcomed the First Order to the Colossus not knowing what they were really like". Kaz told me about their plans, they wanted this ship, and would have killed all of us to get it ". "You are also the only relative Kaz has left now". You hugged Neeku again. "Thank you for saving me Neeku, I don't know what got into me" You said still crying. "You are welcome Y/N". Before you could think, you pulled your head out of his neck, and kissed him. "Y/N" he whispered when you released his lips. You froze in shock when you realized what you had done. "Uh, I..." you stammered embarrassed. But Neeku just cupped your cheek and said "It is okay Y/N, I feel the same way about you". He kissed you back. You ran your hands over eachother's backs moaning with desire. His hands moved to your head, and he ran his fingers through your y/hl black hair, and you ran your fingers over the back of his scaly head. You deepend the kiss, and let your tongues explore eachother's mouths, both of you still moaning with pleasure and happiness. You finally pulled apart for air, your hearts pounding from the amazing moment you just shared. You got up, and walked back to the garage hand in hand. Everyone was still asleep when you got home. You kissed Neeku again. "Goodnight". "Goodnight" he replied. You layed back down, and thought about what had just happened. Neeku just saved your life, and he loves you!. You fall asleep with a smile on your face. Your last thought before a blissful sleep was, "I wonder how Kaz will feel about his best friend dating his little sister?".

The Friendliest Face in Outer Space - #CraigMcCracken #WanderOverYonder on #DisneyChannel and #FamilyChannel (en Disney Television Animation) https://www.instagram.com/p/CgPEQxnO-Zx/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

Wander Over Yonder Streaming At Hulu

Wander Over Yonder might not be on Disney+  beacuse a contract by DisneyNOW (Thank The Disney XD Reruns from 2020) BUT the show will hit the other Disney owned streaming service Hulu 

The friendliest face from outer space is making a quick visit to Disney’s Green Streaming Platform before hitting the Blue streaming platform! 

Wander Over Yonder now on Hulu

Coming Soon To Disney+

Hi idk if you’re still doing this but could I have an outer banks cast and character ship please? I am 5’1 with blonde hair, green eyes, and lots of freckles. I was valedictorian of my high school but I refuse to waste all my time on school work. I love to go to parties with my friends, watch 80s movies, go to the drive-in, and try new food. I want to be a pediatrician and love helping others. My friends tell me my heart is too big and I love too much. I am often sassy but smiling. Thank you

i ship you with john b!! (honorary mention: you and kie would be childhood best friends, like movie best friends who spent every moment together and did the most random fun shit together and had sleepovers to cry about your feelings and all the other cute ass movie bff shit)

i think john b would fall for you wayyyy before you could even consider the possibility of having feelings for him. he’d spend months pining after you, crying to jj and pope (and even kie that one time when he was a little too drunk) about how strongly he felt about you. by the time you realized that maybe there was a little spark there between you and your friend, john b was full on, head over heels in love with you.

your feelings for john b would hit you a while after you stopped talking to some random kid that went to your school. the whole time you’d be snapping and texting another dude, john b had been silently suffering, and as soon as he found out you’d dropped your little boy toy, he knew he had to do something soon. as john b was trying to concoct a plan to get you to fall in love with him, you just were falling in love with him. he started doing little things, like putting a hand out for you to grab when you were stepping on or off the hms pogue, and hugging you hello and goodbye, and opening your beer for you without being asked, and slinging an arm around you (whether it was your shoulder or waist) whenever he was close enough. it was all shit that jb was subconsciously doing— he didn’t realize that he’d started to treat you like his girl, because if he did, he would’ve stopped. he was doing his absolute best to hide the feelings he had for you, but apparently the feelings were now manifesting themselves in his passing mannerisms. in a way, it was good for john b that he was so oblivious to his own actions. if he’d been aware enough to stop them, you never would’ve realized how much he meant to you.

so one night during one of you and kie’s (nightly) sleepovers, you’d confess. “i dunno, kie. i guess i’m kinda feeling some type of way about jb. is that weird?” she’s grin from ear to ear, the same grin that john b had gotten a few months prior from pope and jj when he confessed to them. “not weird at all,” kie would insist. “it’s adorable. fuck the rules. you have to mack on john b. you have to.” shaking your head with a smile was the only response you could muster up as you finally gave into the thoughts you’d been having recently. (later that night, when kie was a little too drunk, she may have texted the pogue group chat and said “FUCK THE NO POGUE ON POGUE MACKING RULE! That rule is officially ABOLISHED!”)

the next morning, you’d make your way directly to The Chateau. the confidence you’d gotten from kie had slightly worn off already, so you knew you had to act fast. when you walked through the front door, you immediately found john b in the kitchen eating a bowl of Cheerios. he’d give you a close mouthed grin, chomping on the cereal as you glanced around with a chuckle. “boys aren’t here?” he shook his head, and you saw his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed before verbally responding. “running deliveries for heyward all day. i, however, am going fishing.” you’d nod, flopping down onto the couch and making eye contact with him from across the room. “okay. mind if i tag along? there’s kind of something i need to talk to you about.” his face would twist into concern and confusion, making you chuckle again. “hey, no giggling allowed! getting a ‘we need to talk’ is a scary thing.” you’d shake your head with a smirk, getting up and sitting next to him at the table. “you really, truly have no clue what i could have to talk to you about, john b?” he’d shovel another mouthful into his mouth as his wide eyes looked into yours, and you bit back your laugh this time. “john b.” he’d sigh, swallowing and dropping the spoon into the bowl. “fine. yeah. kie’s text in the group chat, right? so you’re here to tell me you have the hots for jj or pope or something? and you want my help getting in their pants. that’s cool, i can help if you really—” you were rapidly shaking your head, grabbing him by the chin to cut him off and turning his face to look at you. you looked almost offended, unhappiness and a sort of disbelief spread across your face. john b stopped talking, eyes subconsciously flickering to your mouth as he waited for you to speak. “not jj, and not pope, you idiot.” there was a pause then, and john b’s eyebrows shot up when he came up with a new possibility. “kie?” with a scoffed laugh and a roll of your eyes, you used your grip on john b’s chin to pull his face closer to yours, but without completely closing the space. “are you really that dense, john b? not kie. not pope, not jj. just the idiot with the Cheerios,” you muttered, watching his eyes flicker down to your lips again. you continued, hoping the more you elaborated, the better he would understand. “the guy who holds the door, and always saves me the passenger seat. this guy, he wears really cute button down shirts, but he might as well just be shirtless. and he’s so sweet to everyone around him, the friendliest person in the obx. lots of finger guns, and bad cartwheels, and piggyback rides, and all that shit, john b.” you paused, eyes locking with john b’s. you could’ve sworn his mouth was inching toward yours. “do you get it yet?” he’d blink, stuttering before responding. “i— i— yeah, i think i get it. don’t really understand why, but i’m just gonna take whatever i can get.” you’d laugh again, but before you could get out anymore words, he was kissing you. what a fun day of fishing on the hms pogue it was going to be.

Making Connections

The familiar, unpleasant sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. The world around you contracting then expanding all in a single moment. Dahl’renn avoided travelling by portal whenever, but every now and then he would make an exception. In this case, there wasn’t much of a choice. The elven sailor stepped away from the exit portal, nodding at the acolyte of the Ebon Blade which was maintaining it, and gave himself a quick once-over. No fingers or toes missing. Everything in its place. 

Good, he thought to himself. Despite the fact that portals have been proven to be incredibly safe, you do hear tales every now and then of some poor traveler leaving a left foot behind when  stepping through one.

Having collected himself, Dahl adjusted his feathered cap and looked up at a true sight to behold: Oribos, the Eternal, Undying City. A shiver ran up the elf’s spine. He had seen many impressive, wondrous things in his travels, but this was something else. Dalaran was a city that floated above the ground. This city just existed in space; a realm that seemed to expand forever, interrupted only by trailing lines of anima leading into stone conduits. Under normal circumstances, Dahl would have taken the time to walk around the entire outer perimeter, but he had an appointment to keep.

As Dahl walked towards the entrance of the city, he couldn’t help but take in the sheer size of the ancient stone structure. To think that every soul that had lived and died had passed through this place to be sent to their deserved afterlives… Perhaps... No. Now was not a time for such thoughts. He was here for a specific purpose, and if the tales were true, he did not want to keep his contact waiting. Dahl approached a giant armoured humanoid, standing guard with glaive in hand, removing his hat and putting on his friendliest smile. “Ah, excuse me? Do you think you could point me in the direction of the Hall of Curiosities?” Dahl asked. The Attendant looked down at the elf, a voice emanating from its helmet. “Yes, mortal. Here to see what the Brokers have brought to our city?” “Something like that,” Dahl replied.

The Attendant let out a low rumble, which could only be interpreted as a tired sigh. “Pass through this archway to the Ring of Fates,” it boomed. “Make your way clockwise around the central ring until you come to another archway with a scale carved at the top. That is where the Hall of Curiosities is located.” Dahl looked towards his destination, then back at the Attendant, nodding in appreciation. “Thank you very much!” The elf placed his cap back on his head and walked briskly towards the Ring of Fates, the blue light from the sconces on the hallway walls illuminating the way. If the outside of Oribos was impressive, then the inside was beyond belief. The city was hustling and bustling with folks from all walks of life. Besides the easily-recognizable races from Azeroth, there were blue-skinned human-looking people, a wide variety of Undead (and not the usually Forsaken kind), grey-skinned ... San’layn? They almost seemed to glide along the ground as they made their way. Robed and hooded figures that actually -were- floating. Winged sprites. Tiny ... owls with legs? Dahl could barely process what he was seeing. Still, not to be deterred from his goal, he continued with purpose towards the archway with the glowing scales above it. Making his way inside he was greeted with the sight of yet another race of ... people? They struck him more as constructs than living, yet they moved about quite naturally. Their heads were not heads at all, but flickering flames behind gilded masks. Still, voices could be heard emanating from these figures. Had he not known better, Dahl would have thought these must be some sort of Ethereals. No, these were definitely them. The Brokers. “Well, no use dawdling around,” he whispered to himself, walking forward.

The Hall itself certainly lived up to its name. Filling up every nook and cranny were all manner of containers and carts, most housing wares from who knows where. A couple of items looked familiar. Some rare creatures from Azeroth, a couple of gizmos that seemed to be of Gnomish design. Others, he could only guess their origin. In truth, the whole place reminded him of the bustling markets of Boralus only more otherworldly. Dahl’renn made his way towards the closest Broker in a nearby bunch. The Brokers were gathered around a cart, and (from what Dahl could make out) gazing upon some newly-gotten wares, talking through proposed prices and supply. “Excuse me! Ah... Apologies. I’m meant to meet someone here in the Hall? I have an appointment with a...” He pulls out a scrap of paper with a name written upon it. “Ta’zela. Are they available?” 

One of the Brokers spoke up. “I am Ta’zela. A pleasure to meet you, Dahl’renn? Did I pronounce that right? You mortals have such curious names.” The figure addressing him looked near identical to the rest, save for a few embellishments around the belt and sleeves of her outfit.

“Aye, you did,” Dahl replied. “Seems you’ve acquired a knack for such names in the short time that our realms have been connected.

“Oh, you misunderstand,” Ta’zela corrected. “We are not of the Shadowlands. Merely passing through to provide service to others, such as yourself. Come, let us find a place to sit down and discuss matters. In private.”

Dahl nodded as Ta’zela led him through the hall, where more and more goods were revealed to him. “It seems you and yours have been quite busy,” Dahl chirped. “Has Azeroth proven to be of significant interest to the Brokers?”

“Oh, indeed! We find your world to be most interesting. Cartel Ta has been ever so pleased at such an opportunity, and we look forward to continuing this relationship.”

A few moments later they arrived in a small, relatively empty area, dotted with tables, chairs; clearly some sort of meeting space. Ta’zela pulled out a chair for Dahl and then herself, taking a seat and leaning in. 

“Now that we are away from curious ears, I hear that you have some business with Cartel Ta that you wish to pursue. Yes?” If Brokers had faces, Ta’zela would be smiling with glee. Her words had a venomous charm to them. Dahl let out a measured breath. He had come this far, after all. “Aye, you heard right. I think I may have something for you that will prove to be mutually beneficial. A rising tide lifts all boats, after all.” Oh how he had missed this. The game had begun, and the players were at the ready.

“Oh, wonderful. Wonderful!” Ta’zela clapped her hands together. “Please, Dahl’renn, do continue...”

who is that bouncy lil guy u keep blessing my home page with

He is Wander, the friendliest face in outer space! Your best buddy in the galaxy! Hairy chicken leg, orange spoon, monkey cat, star nomad, tumbleweed. Whatever you wish to call him.

He is great and I highly recommend his show, Wander Over Yonder! At first glance it might seem just another cartoon for six-year-olds, but it teaches actually important lessons, the animation is awesome especially in the second season, also there are many feels ahead. Sadly it’s only 80 episodes, we’re still begging to Disney for a 3rd season. Come join us. We’ve got sandwiches.

here’s what i read at my friend’s art show tonight.

there is absolutely no context.

Lester Bartholomew Trix, known to those in the city as The Trix Rabbit, took a long drag on his cigarette as he stood on his front lawn, gazing upon his house. His already decrepit bungalow had been vandalized in the night—it hadn’t been the first time, and certainly wouldn’t be the last—and someone had taken spray paint to mark up the garage door. Silly Rabbit, it said. Trix are for Kids. Below that was a crude but unmistakeable drawing of a rabbit with a big X going through his head.

Trix spat a phlegmy gob on the ground before returning the cigarette to his lips. So the South Side Kids were sending another message. It was bad enough that the Kids had taken control of the Trix empire, the addictive breakfast cereal that lured in innocents with its candy coloured hues before getting them hooked. The Trix family had a monopoly on the stuff for four generations, until Lester Trix came of age and inherited the business. A few bad investments forced him to choose between handing over control of the company to the Kids or having his legs broken. Trix sometimes wondered if he made the right decision. To rub in the humiliation, the Kids left the Trix name and face on the product, yet blacklisted the Rabbit from so much as purchasing the substance his own ancestors had invented. Trix was able to get his paws on enough stuff to keep his own habits going through the regular backchannels but now, it seemed, the Kids were on to him.

Six blocks away Tony “Killer” Tiger panted, as he slam dunked yet another basketball into the hoops on the barren outdoor court. Though only eight a.m., Tony had been awake for hours—there wasn’t much need for sleep when you had Frosted Flakes coursing through your veins as Tony often did, subsisting on a diet of sugar and adrenaline, his muscles engorged to unnatural sizes until he appeared to be more animal than man. Which he was. Because he was a tiger.

“I thought I’d see you around these parts,” he said quietly, staring straight ahead to the empty court. He whipped his massive form around until he was staring straight down at the nervous looking Trix Rabbit. “I’m only surprised it took you so long.”

“Yeah, well, Flakey Heights isn’t exactly the friendliest place for my kind,” said Trix, lighting up another cigarette, his third of that morning. It took Grapity Purple sized gonads to trespass on another mascot’s turf, but Trix and Tony had an unspoken understanding since they worked together to take down Franken Berry and his Monster Gang in the early 90s. “Rumor has it that Count Chocula’s been seen back in town.”

“Yeah?” said Tony, dribbling the ball twice before shooting it back through the hoop in a perfect swoosh. “Something tells me you ain’t here about the Count.” Trix was impressed how Tony always seemed to know the lay of the land. Few knew about the incriminating photographs that Tony had on Snap, Crackle, and Pop, who he forced to be his eyes, ears, and taste buds on the ground.

“Here,” said Trix, slinging a newspaper at Tony’s chest. Well, it wasn’t really a newspaper so much as the back page of a cereal box, you know, the kind filled with puzzles and games and interesting facts about outer space to be idly read while eating breakfast.

“‘Neutron stars can spin at a rate of 600 rotations per second?’” Tony read. “Fascinating stuff, Trix, but I fail to see how this is news. Nasa’s been on this beat for decades.”

“Ignore the space facts,” Trix sighed, rubbing his temples. Tony had street smarts in spades, but could be a few whole grains short of a complete balanced breakfast. “Read the top. The banner.”

“‘New and improved recipe,’” Tony read. “Surely they don’t mean—”

Trix nodded solemnly. “The Kids are cutting product, supplementing it with Kellogs knows what.”

“On August 16th 2013, Disney Channel fans took a journey into a beautiful galaxy, filled with wonderful planets, funny new friends, new dangerous evil baddies and they even got to meet the friendliest face in outer space, Wander as Craig McCracken presents Wander Over Yonder! Happy 9th Anniversary!” 

Here it is, Wanderers! My first anniversary picture for The Picnic, the sneak peek episode that gave us our first look into Wander Over Yonder!  9 years, guys. WOY came out 9 years ago today! :’) 

How Black Lives Matter Made a Mexican-American Beer Writer Rethink Her Role in Craft Beer

The first time I experienced a brew festival more than 10 years ago, my only expectation was to see a lot of people, try some new and interesting beers, and to enjoy myself. My vantage point was as a volunteer, serving beers to the masses along with my husband. Two of the first things I noticed immediately were: 1. The disproportionate number of men compared to the women in attendance; and 2. The fact that I was one of the very few people of color in attendance. As a second-generation Mexican-American from upstate New York, I have always been aware of my social surroundings wherever I am, and this was no exception.

Later, as I attended fest after fest across the Northeast, the disparities became hard to ignore. I’d say to my husband, whose family hails from Eastern Europe, “Do you notice that I’m the only brown person here?” to which he would reply, “No, I hadn’t really noticed.” Was I uncomfortable? No. Did it bother me? Somewhat. My observations were always there, nagging me to speak up about the industry’s lack of diversity. Later, I started a beer blog, but chose not to write about racial inequalities in an effort to “stay out of it” and let others tell their stories if they chose to do so.

Over the past decade, I’ve immersed myself in the craft beer world. I’ve worked for several breweries as a brand ambassador, as a bartender, and as a sales rep throughout the Northeast and in South Florida. The racial disparities have felt most pronounced to me in the Northeast, as I had more Latino colleagues while working in Miami. In New York, I wanted to capture the essence of the craft beer community I was a part of in Florida — partly pachanga (party atmosphere), mixed with a common understanding of beer, community, and acceptance. In the Northeast, I longed for the inclusivity that seemed to automatically come easily to my white counterparts who put on a brewer’s shirt, wore a long beard, or looked like the St. Pauli girl serving to the masses at Oktoberfest.

For my first gig as a brand ambassador, I worked for a brewery in Ohio with Irish American roots. While going through training, I was the only non-Irish-American employee. I felt awkward, like a sore thumb. It was a friendly enough environment and everyone was nice, but I still felt a sense of marginalization. My presence was certainly acknowledged, but I felt like more of an afterthought. I was the last person to be addressed and the last person to get handed a glass while sampling. I tried so hard to prove my worth; I was the person who always engaged, asking questions and starting conversations because the others would not.

In seeking recognition and acceptance, I pushed harder than my colleagues. I memorized every detail of the brewery’s beer profile, its history, and interesting anecdotes. Customers were gracious, inquisitive, and appreciative of my advice and conversation. I felt really good about my position and I loved talking about craft beer to anyone who would listen. During my time as a brand ambassador, I also became a writer for a local newspaper. Strangers recognized me and complimented me on my informative articles on beer. Things seemed to be going well.

Over the years, I built a reputation in the industry for knowing beers inside out, and for my friendly, can-do attitude. None of this took away the fact that I still noticed the lack of women and BIPOC at events. More and more it was starting to bother me, but I went on about my business and poured beer after beer. There never really is a “getting used to it” feeling about being the only minority in the room or the only female in a sea of beards — or in my case, both. I really wanted to see some diversity in the field but didn’t think I could do anything about it. Other than representing myself, I didn’t see how I could make an impact.

Over time, my desire grew to connect with BIPOC and women beer professionals and enthusiasts. In 2014, I started a Meetup group in Syracuse, N.Y., for like-minded women who wanted to learn more about craft beer and socialize. My goal was to see more women interact with each other, to meet local brewery professionals, and to grow a noticeable female representation at local events. More than 100 women came out of the woodworks and were grateful to have a “safe space” to congregate. I was ecstatic that my idea would get such a response! For a time, we gathered regularly, set up information tables at beer festivals, sold pretzel necklaces, and recruited other women to join the group.

This type of group had not been done before in my community, and members looked forward to our monthly meetings where we would get together at local breweries and beer businesses, learn something new, and enjoy a few pints with one another. Our voices were heard, our questions were answered, and our taste buds were satiated. Yet, despite the success of the group, there was still something lacking — while I had tapped into a vein of women who loved beer, they were largely white. I was still unable to find beer professionals or enthusiasts who looked like me, a brown-skinned American woman.

Fast-forward to 2019, I landed a job representing a craft brewery from Kilkenny, Ireland. This was an international brand looking to find American fans that weren’t necessarily craft beer snobs. My goal was to reach 35- to 50-year old men and women who were accustomed to a pint of Guinness or Killian’s. My bosses and colleagues were wonderful people who looked to sell this unknown name in America. And I was ready for the challenge. After 10 years in the business I felt confident that I could represent the brand well. Despite the fact that I was neither Irish nor Irish-American, I was comfortable in my role.

That’s until I experienced racism first-hand from a consumer. While serving samples of an Irish red ale at a local Irish-American bar, a patron said to me, “You’re not Irish. Shouldn’t you be Irish or Irish-looking if you’re going to represent that beer? Why did they hire you?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but deep down, the racist customer tapped into my feelings of not belonging, of “otherness.” The only response I could give to this guy was, “Because I know my stuff.” But he didn’t care. He didn’t want to see a brown girl talk European beer. Normally I would brush off such a crude question but I couldn’t.

I began to doubt my validity to everyone and everything. I had worked hard to get into the industry and knew that my gender and race shouldn’t matter when it came to doing my job. Logically, I knew that I was an educated, smart woman who entered the beer industry on her own merits. I knew that I worked hard to switch careers from being a higher-educational professional to a beer writer and brand representative. Nobody could take that away from me, but in that one exchange, my pride turned to shame. Shame for not being able to control my outer appearance, shame for being born the “wrong” color, shame for not being someone I will never be. However, I continued on, with a little less pride for working in beer. Despite a company trip to Ireland and tremendous support from my Irish superiors, I didn’t feel a sense of belonging or teamwork in what I was doing. Unfortunately, my career as a brewery representative ended shortly thereafter.

I have never really spoken or written about the subject of race, mostly because it makes me uncomfortable. Just like religion or politics, I also lumped the subject of race as one of those things we do not speak of with others unless we’re looking for a fight. I’m usually an assertive, well-spoken woman with a lot to say. While I most certainly take the lack of diversity in most settings, until recently I have sort of shut my eyes and covered my ears like a child who tries not to see the monsters in the bedroom. I don’t want to highlight the things I feel I have to apologize for like my race or gender to anyone when really, there is nothing to apologize for.

Finally, I feel that the tide is turning. This time, it’s different. In 2020, the manifestations of racism are front and center. The Black Lives Matter movement, its protests, and the scores of new initiatives to empower people of color are taking shape. These are for people like me. I can now say with emphasis that I am proud of my Mexican heritage. I am proud to embrace it as a part of my identity. I am proud of all my accomplishments.

I love working in craft beer and have no regrets about changing careers. For me, the beer industry can be (and usually is) one of the friendliest and supportive communities. However, there are times when that one customer, that one distributor sales rep, that one colleague can take it all down with a word or a gesture.

Finally, I’m seeing more faces of color and hearing the voices rise in the industry, clearer than ever before. I’m drinking Black Is Beautiful beer knowing that it’s more than just the beer. While for the moment those faces and voices are on Zoom and YouTube because of the pandemic, I’m looking forward to the time when I go to my local brewery in upstate New York and see more people like me. I can’t wait to attend craft beer conferences and interact with new BIPOC colleagues in the audience and on the podium.

Yes, we most certainly have a ways to go when it comes to inclusivity in the beer industry. But now, I know that it’s time for me to speak, because I do belong to the community and what I have to say does matter. I’ve learned that in order to see change, you don’t wait for it to happen. You speak your truth, and your message will be heard.

The article How Black Lives Matter Made a Mexican-American Beer Writer Rethink Her Role in Craft Beer appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/craft-beer-diversity/

How Black Lives Matter Made a Mexican-American Beer Writer Rethink Her Role in Craft Beer

The first time I experienced a brew festival more than 10 years ago, my only expectation was to see a lot of people, try some new and interesting beers, and to enjoy myself. My vantage point was as a volunteer, serving beers to the masses along with my husband. Two of the first things I noticed immediately were: 1. The disproportionate number of men compared to the women in attendance; and 2. The fact that I was one of the very few people of color in attendance. As a second-generation Mexican-American from upstate New York, I have always been aware of my social surroundings wherever I am, and this was no exception.

Later, as I attended fest after fest across the Northeast, the disparities became hard to ignore. I’d say to my husband, whose family hails from Eastern Europe, “Do you notice that I’m the only brown person here?” to which he would reply, “No, I hadn’t really noticed.” Was I uncomfortable? No. Did it bother me? Somewhat. My observations were always there, nagging me to speak up about the industry’s lack of diversity. Later, I started a beer blog, but chose not to write about racial inequalities in an effort to “stay out of it” and let others tell their stories if they chose to do so.

Over the past decade, I’ve immersed myself in the craft beer world. I’ve worked for several breweries as a brand ambassador, as a bartender, and as a sales rep throughout the Northeast and in South Florida. The racial disparities have felt most pronounced to me in the Northeast, as I had more Latino colleagues while working in Miami. In New York, I wanted to capture the essence of the craft beer community I was a part of in Florida — partly pachanga (party atmosphere), mixed with a common understanding of beer, community, and acceptance. In the Northeast, I longed for the inclusivity that seemed to automatically come easily to my white counterparts who put on a brewer’s shirt, wore a long beard, or looked like the St. Pauli girl serving to the masses at Oktoberfest.

For my first gig as a brand ambassador, I worked for a brewery in Ohio with Irish American roots. While going through training, I was the only non-Irish-American employee. I felt awkward, like a sore thumb. It was a friendly enough environment and everyone was nice, but I still felt a sense of marginalization. My presence was certainly acknowledged, but I felt like more of an afterthought. I was the last person to be addressed and the last person to get handed a glass while sampling. I tried so hard to prove my worth; I was the person who always engaged, asking questions and starting conversations because the others would not.

In seeking recognition and acceptance, I pushed harder than my colleagues. I memorized every detail of the brewery’s beer profile, its history, and interesting anecdotes. Customers were gracious, inquisitive, and appreciative of my advice and conversation. I felt really good about my position and I loved talking about craft beer to anyone who would listen. During my time as a brand ambassador, I also became a writer for a local newspaper. Strangers recognized me and complimented me on my informative articles on beer. Things seemed to be going well.

Over the years, I built a reputation in the industry for knowing beers inside out, and for my friendly, can-do attitude. None of this took away the fact that I still noticed the lack of women and BIPOC at events. More and more it was starting to bother me, but I went on about my business and poured beer after beer. There never really is a “getting used to it” feeling about being the only minority in the room or the only female in a sea of beards — or in my case, both. I really wanted to see some diversity in the field but didn’t think I could do anything about it. Other than representing myself, I didn’t see how I could make an impact.

Over time, my desire grew to connect with BIPOC and women beer professionals and enthusiasts. In 2014, I started a Meetup group in Syracuse, N.Y., for like-minded women who wanted to learn more about craft beer and socialize. My goal was to see more women interact with each other, to meet local brewery professionals, and to grow a noticeable female representation at local events. More than 100 women came out of the woodworks and were grateful to have a “safe space” to congregate. I was ecstatic that my idea would get such a response! For a time, we gathered regularly, set up information tables at beer festivals, sold pretzel necklaces, and recruited other women to join the group.

This type of group had not been done before in my community, and members looked forward to our monthly meetings where we would get together at local breweries and beer businesses, learn something new, and enjoy a few pints with one another. Our voices were heard, our questions were answered, and our taste buds were satiated. Yet, despite the success of the group, there was still something lacking — while I had tapped into a vein of women who loved beer, they were largely white. I was still unable to find beer professionals or enthusiasts who looked like me, a brown-skinned American woman.

Fast-forward to 2019, I landed a job representing a craft brewery from Kilkenny, Ireland. This was an international brand looking to find American fans that weren’t necessarily craft beer snobs. My goal was to reach 35- to 50-year old men and women who were accustomed to a pint of Guinness or Killian’s. My bosses and colleagues were wonderful people who looked to sell this unknown name in America. And I was ready for the challenge. After 10 years in the business I felt confident that I could represent the brand well. Despite the fact that I was neither Irish nor Irish-American, I was comfortable in my role.

That’s until I experienced racism first-hand from a consumer. While serving samples of an Irish red ale at a local Irish-American bar, a patron said to me, “You’re not Irish. Shouldn’t you be Irish or Irish-looking if you’re going to represent that beer? Why did they hire you?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but deep down, the racist customer tapped into my feelings of not belonging, of “otherness.” The only response I could give to this guy was, “Because I know my stuff.” But he didn’t care. He didn’t want to see a brown girl talk European beer. Normally I would brush off such a crude question but I couldn’t.

I began to doubt my validity to everyone and everything. I had worked hard to get into the industry and knew that my gender and race shouldn’t matter when it came to doing my job. Logically, I knew that I was an educated, smart woman who entered the beer industry on her own merits. I knew that I worked hard to switch careers from being a higher-educational professional to a beer writer and brand representative. Nobody could take that away from me, but in that one exchange, my pride turned to shame. Shame for not being able to control my outer appearance, shame for being born the “wrong” color, shame for not being someone I will never be. However, I continued on, with a little less pride for working in beer. Despite a company trip to Ireland and tremendous support from my Irish superiors, I didn’t feel a sense of belonging or teamwork in what I was doing. Unfortunately, my career as a brewery representative ended shortly thereafter.

I have never really spoken or written about the subject of race, mostly because it makes me uncomfortable. Just like religion or politics, I also lumped the subject of race as one of those things we do not speak of with others unless we’re looking for a fight. I’m usually an assertive, well-spoken woman with a lot to say. While I most certainly take the lack of diversity in most settings, until recently I have sort of shut my eyes and covered my ears like a child who tries not to see the monsters in the bedroom. I don’t want to highlight the things I feel I have to apologize for like my race or gender to anyone when really, there is nothing to apologize for.

Finally, I feel that the tide is turning. This time, it’s different. In 2020, the manifestations of racism are front and center. The Black Lives Matter movement, its protests, and the scores of new initiatives to empower people of color are taking shape. These are for people like me. I can now say with emphasis that I am proud of my Mexican heritage. I am proud to embrace it as a part of my identity. I am proud of all my accomplishments.

I love working in craft beer and have no regrets about changing careers. For me, the beer industry can be (and usually is) one of the friendliest and supportive communities. However, there are times when that one customer, that one distributor sales rep, that one colleague can take it all down with a word or a gesture.

Finally, I’m seeing more faces of color and hearing the voices rise in the industry, clearer than ever before. I’m drinking Black Is Beautiful beer knowing that it’s more than just the beer. While for the moment those faces and voices are on Zoom and YouTube because of the pandemic, I’m looking forward to the time when I go to my local brewery in upstate New York and see more people like me. I can’t wait to attend craft beer conferences and interact with new BIPOC colleagues in the audience and on the podium.

Yes, we most certainly have a ways to go when it comes to inclusivity in the beer industry. But now, I know that it’s time for me to speak, because I do belong to the community and what I have to say does matter. I’ve learned that in order to see change, you don’t wait for it to happen. You speak your truth, and your message will be heard.

The article How Black Lives Matter Made a Mexican-American Beer Writer Rethink Her Role in Craft Beer appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/craft-beer-diversity/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/how-black-lives-matter-made-a-mexican-american-beer-writer-rethink-her-role-in-craft-beer

Wander Over Yonder Marathon Set For April 13 On Disney XD, Hint Of A Disney+ Release Later This Year?

Wander Over Yonder not on Disney+? not problem Disney XD will have a marathon from 9 AM-4 PM on 4/13! 

1 Day Only 

Hint that our friendliest face from outer space will be on Disney+ this summer season?

Or you can request it at Disney+ Help 

He's The Friendliest Face in Outer Space! - #CraigMcCracken #WanderOverYonder on #DisneyChannel and #FamilyChannel Go to: http://disneychannel.disney.com/wander-over-yonder (en Disney Television Animation)