#Exposition Guy

[draconic-hazard]

Utterly in love with the fact that Exposition Guy draws two brains as a giant mouse in a lab coat

#wordgirl #exposition guy #dr two brains #really what is he if NOT a giant mouse in a lab coat

[vellichorom]

HERE’S TO 15 YEARS ~ !!! 🎉 #15YEARSOFWG

FINALLY after many months of hard work between the artists & zine team, I am able to show you MY piece for the official ( unofficial ) WORDGIRL ZINE, commemorating it’s 15th anniversary! 

this show has carried me the past couple years & is WELL worth the watch for anyone curious, & with it comes a BOUNTIFUL, extremely WELCOMING fanbase that MIRACULOUSLY flourishes even 15 years after it’s original debut ( goes to show you how good it is, you know! ), & thus, today we celebrate!

@wordgirlzine WE OWE IT ALL TO YOU TEAM! THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING! & to my fellow artists & contributors, I for one am SOSOSO PROUD OF ALL OF US! we MADE it! REJOICE !!! 

& HAPPY BIRTHDAY WORDGIRL!

#uwu art #Wordgirl #Word Girl #wordgirlzine #15yearsofwg #15 years of wg #Becky Botsford #Tobey McCallister III #Scoops #Todd Scoops Ming #Violet Heaslip #The Butcher #Chuck the Evil Sandwich Making Guy #Exposition Guy #Miss Question #Mr Big #Leslie #Coach #Mr Mittens #OCs #ALSO featuring my friend's OCs & a wink wink nudge nudge from me too #THANK YOU TO MY FRIENDS WHO LET ME DRAW THEIR BLORBS IN THIS IMAGE #ft staticlake / theflannelwizard / tomi-chuu & thedoodlecorner/fizzy's CHARACTERS! #also god help me it took me an hour to figure out how to cut up the image for quality salvation #EHEHEH ANYWAY

[piss-bottle-heart-emoticon]

He deserves a bigger fanbase he's so silly

#wordgirl #Exposition guy

[fountainpenguin]

He's so little..... The smallest jellybean...

#WordGirl #Kid Math #Rexagon #Grammar queen #This kid canonically daydreams of destroying the city wyd #Satirical vocab alien child show #Arithmetic Lad #Space monkey #Pink violet #Exposition Guy #screenshots #LexiHexa duo

[fair-city-citizens]

HEEELLPP I saw a nice old lady today! She gave me a cute knitted sweater after I helped her cross the street! But i don’t like knitted clothing! Heeellpppp!

-Exposition Guy

#wordgirl #exposition guy

[evaiskindaweird]

You requested headcanon asks so:

Exposition Guy is Glen Furlblam's cousin

YES YES

GOBBLE GOBBLES UR HEADCANON

#wordgirl #Exposition guy #glen furlblam #HELL YE

[melodythebunny]

Well rewatched megamind yesterday and now I'm thinking about that au idea I hadwith @ninjastormhawkkat and @liloskull343

-Pushes other wips to side-

Guess ill be doodling random scenes for this idea.

#Megamind au #Amazo guy #Wordgirl au #Wordgirl #My art #Exposition guy #Though he's just off panel

[imfinewhosamity]

#the owl house #wordgirl #exposition guy #wordgirl help #toh belos #philip wittebane #toh phillip wittebane #philip toh #wordgirl meme #wordgirl pbs #HELP #HEEEELLLLPPPPP

[big-city-times]

sketchbook guys

#wordgirl #glen furlblam #captain tangent #exposition guy #chuck the evil sandwich making guy #fryart

[nosferatufaggot]

They are T4T your honour (Exposition Guy and his wife)

#Wordgirl #This is just canon to me to the point that I forget it's not canon. #Exposition Guy

[worldofbraingirlau]

Hello how are things around here?

Hello Miss Melody. My name is Professor Steven Boxleitner. First and foremost I would like to apologize if you and others on this ask blog develop any bothersome side effects from dimensional communication through a non-proper technological device such as a this computer network.*annoyed sigh* My assistant Dr. James Jenkins apparently installed, "by accident", two high powered electrical disk batteries in my daughter's computer while he was trying to fix it for her one day. *side glare's at Jenkins*

Dr. James Jenkins: I said I was sorry about that. In retrospect, I thought that warning about possible dimensional communication from the use of those batteries was a lame joke by the company that made them. Also they looked exactly like the disk batteries that I was supposed to use so anyone could have made that mistake.

Steven: Anyway to answer your question, things have been pretty much slow around here. Dr. Jenkins, my monkey Bob, and I were just working on some electron experiments and crime seems to be slow today so it appears....

Exposition Guy: HEEEELLLLPPP! MOUSEBRAINGIRL IS ROBBING THE DAVINCI'S RICOTTA SCULPUTURE OF HIMSELF ...Um wait, isn't this the police station?

Steven: FOR THE 18TH TIME THIS 4TH FLOOR SCIENCE LABS! THE POLICE STATION IS ON THE FIRST FLOOR! USE GPS AND A MAP NEXT TIME!

Exposition Guy flinches a bit at Steven's anger and tone

Exposition Guy: Um sorry about that. I'll just go now. *Runs away*

Steven sighs again as he rubs the bridge of his nose in sadness and aggravation.

Steven: Well never mind then. I'm sorry but I have to go now. Come on Bob!

Bob follows Steven as the hurry out of the lab. Dr. Jenkins is now awkwardly alone.

Dr. Jenkins: Oh boy. *turns to computer* Uh, Hey there internet.

(Dr. James Jenkins is the oc of @drtwobrainsstuff who gave me permission to use her character for this blog.)

@melodythebunny

#wordgirl #wordgirl au #worldofbraingirlau #steven boxleitner #dr james jenkins #exposition guy #melodythebunny #drtwobrainsstuff #answered ask #bob/captain huggy face #mousebraingirl au

[thesecretingredientislove]

Last Team Standing Tournament (round one)

#wordgirl #last team standing #violet heaslip #violet #tommy #exposition guy #Mrs best #victoria best #poll #round one

[womanofwords]

Tobey’s Community Service (Part 5)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 6

Tobey was pleasantly surprised at the reception he got from his students when he came back. He found himself being ambushed by tiny hands and high-pitched voices the moment he got through the door.

“We missed you!”

“Why weren’t you here last week?”

“Never leave like that again!”

Tobey's mouth extended into a wide, lopsided grin. “Come now, I was sick! I couldn’t be here!”

“Then stop being sick!” a girl ordered, her sentiment quickly shared by her classmates.

“I can’t really do anything about that, but I’ll try to keep the absences to a mincing,” Tobey promised.

“I think you might mean the word minimum, Tobey,” WordGirl corrected. “Minimum means the smallest amount possible. So class, when Tobey says he’ll keep the absences to a minimum, he means that he’s trying to be here as often as possible.”

“Good!” the little girl snapped. She was reminding him of WordGirl, the way she bossed him around. But he shook it out of his mind and started the lesson, bringing another part of his decommissioned robots to explain parts to the kids, pausing every so often to answer questions.

“You have done such a good job designing your robots,” Tobey praised. “I am so proud of you all. You have come so far in your progress!” As Tobey handed back their blueprints, WordGirl allowed herself to relax. Tobey was firmly on his way to the path of redemption. Someday, she might even be able to fight alongside him against her usual rotation of villains. But if he didn’t want to do that (which would be understandable), he could make a perfectly good life for himself mentoring children in the laws of robotics.

But that seemed to not be in the cards.

Not yet, anyway.

“HE-E-E-LP!” A brown-haired man with a goatee burst into the room. “There’s a man terrorising the city with huge robots! He said he wanted to battle with someone called Theodore McCallister the Third to see who had the strongest evil robots!”

“But I don’t want to battle!” Tobey yelled, surprising himself. The old him would have accepted the battle and even been insulted that his ability to make super strong evil robots was questioned. But now, after lots of therapy, he looked at battles as being . . . stupid. No more than destructive wastes of energy perfectly set up to mask insecurities and fears with displays of violence and aggression.

He really had changed.

“Sir, this is not the police station. The police station is on the other side of town,” WordGirl told him.

“Oh,” the man said, awkwardly. He took a few seconds to wipe his glasses on his grey shirt before running out of the classroom with the same cry of “HE-E-E-E-LP!”

Sighing, WordGirl and Captain Huggyface got up from their seats. “Sorry, class, but Tobey and I will have to go. There’s a bad guy on the loose and I can’t let that happen. I’ll get a teacher to look after you in the meantime.” And with that, WordGirl picked up Tobey and Captain Huggyface and took off through a large and conveniently open window.

#wordgirl #tobey mcallister iii #claire mccallister #caring! claire mccallister #fluff #exposition guy #my writing

[crazywolf85]

wow brothers

#wordgirl #glen furlblam #milt wordgirl #exposition guy

[fountainpenguin]

“You put your hand out, opened the door... You said, 'Come with me, boy, I want to show you something more'..."

---

My WordGirl fanfic Factor It In is here! It's the multi-chapter sequel to my one-shot "AlgoRhythm", which centered around WordGirl introducing Kid Math to the villains on villain karaoke night. If you liked that 'fic, you might like this one too. Check it out!

Chapter 1 - “Order of Operations”

Read on FFN || Read on AO3

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Summary: Being a 3rd-grade superhero-in-training isn’t easy, especially while bouncing between foster families. While 8-year-old Rexagon Pemdas struggles against his controlling nature and inability to keep a secret, 11-year-old Becky Botsford fights major burnout and a rapidly increasing fear of being replaced. Maybe Fair City doesn't need two heroes after all...

(First 1,800 words under the cut)

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Minor content warning for this snippet - Canon-typical implied backstory trauma (Potatoes, bruises, neglect).

---

FACTOR IT IN

Order of Operations

.:: January 3rd - Saturday ::.

"One must be taught his place if orderly structure is ever to be maintained."

(Ancient Hexagon proverb)

➕ ➖ ✖️ ➗

Psst! Look for the words independent and uneasy

---

It's a chilly winter afternoon in the home of Milo and Miah Pirakell, who have just received a familiar visitor on their doorstep…

HELP!

The word hovers like a sugar cube on the end of his tongue. H-E-L-P exclamation point exclamation point… Milo stands there, as frozen as the snowboy, snowgirl, and snowmonkey in the yard across the street, quietly goggling the woman waiting for him on the front step. She isn't very tall, though the high heels help a ton with that. She smiles back at him. It's a pretty smile, her lips a sparkly glossy pink. Is she as nervous as he is? She's rocking back and forth on her toes, and he can't help but follow every movement.

Sandy blonde-brown hair. She kept it tied back in a bun. Does he know her? She looks sort of familiar, but this silent revelation doesn't stop the panicked heartbeat bouncing up and down inside his chest.

Help…

Maybe he's seen her face smeared across the newspapers or thrown across the TV screens. Is he about to be robbed blind in his own home? Does this woman have some sort of knock-out gas in that briefcase? He tightens his fingers on the door frame, saying nothing, until his wife's careful, loving hands grip onto his shoulder and pull him aside. Like a slug, he oozes at her command.

"Clarissa!" Miah - his beautiful, smiling Miah - pushes the door a little more open. "Please come in. Milo, you remember Mrs. Argent, our case manager with the foster system."

Milo peers at the sandy-haired woman again. Clarissa Argent, our case manager with the foster system. Yes. Yes, he does know her, though he's grateful for the set-up. He's struggled with memory problems all his life and Miah always grants him context like this when introducing someone he might not recall. Name. Job title. Location. Easy peasy.

Yes. He remembers. Her name's been on the calendar since yesterday, and he's been counting his heartbeats all this time. Clarissa Argent has eyes as silver as her surname, and she smiles up at Milo and switches her briefcase to her left hand. She extends the right for a shake. Milo blinks back at her, then uses two fingers to carefully adjust his glasses on his nose.

Clarissa. Case manager. Foster care.

"Would you like to come in?" he asks. His voice trembles when he says it, but neither Clarissa nor Miah mind at all. He grasps Clarissa's hand and gives it a shake. Sweat drips down his palm and smears across the creases of her fingers. He winces, but Clarissa's smile never wavers.

"Thank you so much for letting me visit. I wanted to get right down to it."

"Have a cookie," Miah offers, waving her into the living room. Milo stands blankly by the door, watching them go, until Miah glances back at him and gently motions for him to shut it so the snowflakes stay firmly outdoors. Right. He pushes it shut and locks it out of habit. He always locks the door when he's inside. Fair City is teeming with wild villains who could snap a lock like this in seconds, but it eases the anxiety very, very faintly anyway. Milo keeps his forehead to the door for three seconds, clicking through his memories and trying to remember why they're meeting with Clarissa.

Something's wrong… Help, help…

The girls are already chatting in the living room. Miah just redecorated in October, freshening up the place with a much more modern look. Clarissa hasn't visited since last April, so she's astonished by the changes and has to comment on every one of them. They even replaced the bulging, waterstained wood with nicer carpet.

Help…

Why is she here? This breaks the routine. Milo curls his fingers against the white door, blinking over and over as the world sways beneath his feet. Usually when there's a kid who needs a place to crash for the weekend, they get phone calls. Half the time, they aren't even "real" foster kids- just kids who temporarily lost track of their parents in some sort of villainous mishap like a cheesy tidal wave, a thunderstorm of bread slices, or a giant robot crushing the subway lines.

He's been there. Milo remembers all too painfully the chaos of his own youth, stranded and shocked in the road in the middle of a rainstorm while his house crumbled beneath the weight of potatoes before his very eyes. He'd been home alone after school. He was only eight. He's held a lot of shivering kids in his lap, rocking them back and forth while they watch something happier on the TV than the news. Even if he's fidgety, desperate to stay up to date with this crazy world they live in, and he can't resist flipping through the channels once he's safe inside his own bedroom.

Help…

Clarissa's personal visit does not take his anxiety down. But she's here, with Miah, and there are chocolate chip cookies waiting in the other room. And somewhere out there, one file folder away, is a kid who needs more help than he does. Milo inhales through his nostrils, counts to six, and exhales between his teeth. Though still uneasy, he peels himself from the door and trudges down the hall to join the two women in the living room.

Okay.

You have to take a step down from the hardwood floor to venture into the new living room. Milo does so, keeping his hand braced on the short handrail as he moves. He blinks at the bright lights, blinks at the snowflakes twirling on the other side of the open blinds, and blinks at Miah as she scoots closer to the pillows to make room for him beside her on the gray couch. Pleasantries are exchanged. Small talk. Milo, fidgeting, zones out for part of it, until he hears Clarissa shift the topic to the kid in question.

"He does need a close eye on him. Someone experienced with home security, who won't let him jump down from second-story windows. That's why I wanted to ask you in person. He's a very sharp-minded boy, Mr. and Mrs. M. Pirakell. Very kindhearted."

Milo glances at Miah. She glances right back at him. "But…?" she prompts the case worker.

"Just… extremely independent." Clarissa drums her fingers against the top of her briefcase. "He's a loner. Very detached in conversation, struggling to pick up on social cues. He shows very little interest in anything beyond math, science, and music. Oh, and cross stitch. We're worried that the neighborhood kids he's currently around are bullying him in secret. He keeps slipping out through the windows and coming home an hour later covered in bruises. We were hoping to place him in a home where we can trust he'll be closely supervised, and the Pirakells are always the first to come to mind."

Of course they are. It's who they are. It's what they do. Milo stares at his toes, his heart plummeting towards the floor, even as the Narrator lets out a soft, breathy sigh above him. It's relief and amusement and gratitude all rolled into one, though nobody acknowledges it and the Narrator says nothing else. Miah glances uncertainly at Milo, then carefully speaks on behalf of them both.

"Clarissa… is this kid charmed? Is that why you're here to visit us in person?"

Charmed.

Silence.

"Well, yes."

Help…

"Didn't…" Milo fiddles for a moment with his wedding ring. "Um, didn't we put in our file that we might not be a good fit for charmed children right now?"

Clarissa rocks back and forth in subtle hesitation. Her long fingernails, painted turquoise, tighten in the ruffles of her black skirt. We did, Milo reflects, but says nothing as Clarissa drops her gaze to the file in her lap again.

"I saw you made that request, but… we're still facing a shortage of families, especially with the holidays. He's really struggling to get along at the group home. The staff suspects he and one of the other boys got in a fight just yesterday. If you reject the placement then I'll understand, but I at least wanted to meet with you in person so we could discuss any questions openly and face to face. His status is a little odd."

Help, help…

Miah slips her hand in Milo's then, tightening her fingers around his own. And he's grounded for a moment, firmly planted on the soft gray couch. No one's wailing for him. There are no invisible children on the floor.

There are lots of things he should probably ask. If the kid has siblings who have also been pulled into foster care. If any extended family members are known. If the kid will be transferring schools. If there are special food needs to keep in mind. If he has any appointments with doctors, dentists, sports teams, or music recitals just around the corner. If he likes to walk. Milo does a lot of walking, though Miah prefers long drives along the coast. What's the child's cultural background? Did he have a nice holiday? Are there parental visitations planned? If he and Miah say yes, will the child arrive tonight, and if so, has he had a chaotic morning? All these questions are things he can, and should, probably ask first.

But he doesn't.

Because his heart is pounding and his fingers look like dancing worms.

"Well…" Milo draws in a long, careful breath. He slowly releases it again, lowering his chin to his chest along with it. It does help him focus, but it doesn't calm the rapid kicking in his heart. "Okay, then. If he's charmed, what, uh, range of powers does he have? L-let's put that in the open first, before we talk about anything else."

There. He feels guilty just for saying it. He can feel the Narrator's wispy silence like the breath of a ghost above his head. It makes the hairs behind his neck stand on end. Milo bites his lip, squeezing Miah's hand, and she squeezes back in gentle reassurance. Maybe it's not an unfair question. Even though it nibbles at his skin.

But it's important. It might make a difference. He can't do invisibility again. He can't.

The lines around Clarissa's eyes crinkle with relief. She pulls her briefcase on her lap and clicks it open. Idly, Milo glances at the numbers on the combination when she tilts back the lid. Then he hates himself. Clarissa picks up a manila file folder and passes it over to Miah. "Yes, we've been looking into that… He's been staying in the group home over the holidays. So many families are out of town right now. I promise, I wouldn't come to you about this if I felt there was anything extreme in his file. He only has two powers that we know of. His skin will rapidly repair any open wound… and he can fly."

[ Cnt'd on FFN / AO3 - Links at top ]

#WordGirl #Kid Math #Factor It In #Satirical vocab alien child show #Grammar queen #Arithmetic Lad #ridwriting #apparently art #Exposition Guy #LexiHexa duo #Finally 2018 me will be at peace #fic announcement

[ninjastormhawkkat]

Part 2/???? of my whacky dream

Tw brief death and injury mention, unreality???, dream

Suddenly I hear a cry for help. It sounded like Robby who everyone just called him the exposition guy. Like anyone else would I ran over to where I heard him calling SOS at. It was surprisingly a long way to walk.

And when I get to him found that he was stuck under some crumbling bricks and a tree????. he was hurt really badly band looked almost crushed. I didn't want to leave him there but I forgot my phone at home. Not that it would have helped much. Still getting the hang of using one

The nearest hospital was 10 blocks away. And the man had already passed out by the time I arrived. Logically Ik I couldn't lift up a tree that was big but I didn't want to risk the man dying.

I struggled for a bit, but then it started feeling lighter like paper. I didn't have time to process it much bc then I was talking to his family in the hospital waiting room

The guy was okay he just needs a few days in the hospital before he could be let go. The doctor said it was a good thing I dragged him out of the crumbling building before it collapsed. I tried to tell them what really happened but they just chalked it up to lack of sleep. It was 3 am by then.

and you know what they are probably right. I decided. I head home ready to scroll through Tumblr for another hour 💀- but then a note was taped on my door in dribbling hand writing, the paper looked a bit shredded.

It read:

I SAW YOU

2/???

This is getting more interesting.

#wordgirl #wordgirl au #melodythebunny #answered ask #wordgirl oc #wordgirl canon characters #exposition guy #tw: brief death and mentioned injury