#denice foxtrot ford

[baselessomgcpheadcanons]

Foxtrot completes an internship at a circus at some point between the start of her junior year and graduation.

[omgauplease]

Feeling down? The fantastic works from our Day 5 creators are just what the doctor ordered!

What You Will - Rated T - 8,251 words

Featuring: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann

Summary: TWELFTH NIGHT OR, WHAT YOU WILL SAMWELL UNIVERSITY Director: Jack Zimmermann Stage Manager: Denice Ford

Audition Information

Date: Thursday, August 31, 2014 Time: 2pm - 6pm Where: Room 217 of Theater Building

Please bring a headshot and resume, as well as any known conflicts with weekdays 6pm - 10pm and Saturdays 12pm - 6pm from Monday, September 4, 2014 - Sunday, October 6, 2014.

Prepare two contrasting monologues, one of which must be comedic.

The casting for Viola/Cesario is gender-blind.

Callbacks will be posted no later than Friday, September 1, 2014 on the callboard.

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Won't Eat Crow (But It Might Eat You) - Rated T - 6,792 words

Featuring: William "Dex" Poindexter, Denice "Foxtrot" Ford, Tony "Tango" Tangredi

Summary: There was a woman covered in blood standing at the front of the room.

The sight of her was intense. It was grotesque. It was dramatic.

It was distracting Dex from his biology quiz.

For the Prompt: Where Dex is being pursued by an Irish deity very interested in working with him - either Brigid or the Morrigan off the top of my head, but I'm sure there may be others that are a good fit.

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nobody knows the trouble i've seen (glory, hallelujah) - Rated G - 5,468 words

Featuring: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann, Kent "Parse" Parson/Jack Zimmermann, Eric "Bitty" Bittle & Jack Zimmermann

Summary: Where the red string of fate is something more like a noose, somehow they still find each other.

{A Southern Gothic AU where Jack died back in 2009 and Bitty can see ghosts - under narrow circumstances.}

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the whole world is all yours tonight - Rated T - 2,928 words

Featuring: Derek "Nursey" Nurse/William "Dex" Poindexter

Summary: Will would not describe the vibe backstage as chill, despite Derek’s numerous claims to the contrary.

Or, The Frogs are a boy band and it's opening night of their first national tour.

.💊💊💊.

[Podfic] Special Delivery - Rated T

Featuring: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann

Summary: Mailman Jack Zimmermann is used to attention from the little kids on his postal route. Being asked to attend a Mailman Jack-themed birthday party, well, that's a first.

Inspired by this Shitty Check, Please AU prompt: "jack is bitty’s mailman and bitty’s 6 yr old is in love with jack and always wants to greet him when he delivers the mail. recently divorced bitty has to pry his daughter away most days, even tho he himself feels the same."

Podfic of Special Delivery by RabbitRunnah.

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Please also remember to show love through kudos and comments to our creators when you enjoy their work! ❤️

[unacaritafeliz]

we know lardo would sweep so...

[zimmerdouche]

Out of all the members of SMH, who do you think you would win in a fight against?

disclaimer: i’m a scrappy one, and all of these are based on the assumption that the member would fistfight me considering i’m 4’11” and relatively feminine, modern attitudes be damned. this one’s been in my inbox for literal years, so (ryan bergara voice) let’s get into it.

b. shitty knight: if he still had his flow and had it pulled back, i could theoretically yank on the ponytail and get him prone and win by pure virtue of simply sitting on his chest. if he stays upright, he’d get me good.

jack zimmermann: i would not win, not only bc he’s a literal nhl player and can beat me simply by being in shape, but i WOULD get distracted by his eyes. i am only human.

adam birkholtz and justin oluransi: do you truly think either of them would get into a fight without the other? 2 vs 1, i’m absolutely fucked. even if it was just one, they are Big and i am Small.

larissa duan: lardo would absolutely obliterate me. i did not want to even consider getting into a fight with her, it is a terrifying idea.

eric bittle: we’re getting somewhere? i’m from the bible belt as well, i could wear him down with southern insults. once it got physical, it’d be a bit harder, esp if we’re considering this senior year bitty. i’d consider this an ugly but well balanced fight. bitty would ultimate prevail, however.

william poindexter: would eat me alive.

derek nurse: would ALSO eat me alive.

christopher chow: first, why would i want to? his goalie face would make me piss my pants and he’s got nearly a foot on me besides. i would not win.

connor whisk: would slice my throat with a side eye.

anthony tangredi: plays mind games. i am weak in that aspect.

denice ford: realistically, the one i may actually win, based on height differential, the fact that we were both stage managers, and that we handle rowdy college students. if i had to pick someone to fight, it would be foxtrot, but i don’t want to, because more than likely we’d be good friends.

river bullard: he’d destroy me, why would you think anything else. in theory i could use my ponytail technique but bully would be a lot harder to tip than shitty.

jonathan hopper: see chowder. plus, i’d have to face his mom after that, and if i’m fresh out of a fight she’d take me out on principle.

lukas landmann: a being of pure chaos. i am powerless against him.

in short: don’t bet on me, i ain’t shit.

[crazysexycool101]

So... I wrote a thing. It's my first fanfic, so check it out!

(y'all saw what I did there, "check" it out, hahaa never mind)

[blackthxrntree]

proof I have no personality of my own and just outwardly project my current hyperfixation:

in the maybe hour it took to be the muscle to clean out the shed I became 4 different omgcp characters:

nursey - found a broken hoola hoop, started coming up with pretentious poetry about the death of childhood

dex - rolled eyes at myself after the above instance, was wearing gloves n carrying shit, found a toolbox, found a really nice ugly man jacket that said Maine ((obviously I was like !!!!dexy!!!! when I saw that))

bitty - my nana, who I was helping, said put the stuff for dumping to the left, I then started singing beyonce bc duh

ford - all of the aforementioned nonsense was set to showtunes bc that's most of my spotify and I am ford just in general

[virgoscringe]

hey g welcome back!!! i think u should draw ford :)

a beach trip ford! thank u annie m’love <333

[cricketnationrise]

Scene Painting 303 T/TH 9AM

written for day 1 of OMGCP Friendship Week! prompt: sharing a class

_X_

Denice walks into Scene Painting 303 vibrating with excitement. She’d somehow lucked into a junior level class as a freshman, and based on the rest of her second semester course load, this one practical class will be a welcome relief.

She prefers stage managing generally, but in her high school theater department, painting the set had been an all hands on deck situation - turning into all night painting parties with good music, pizza, good friends, and ultimately, a finished set. Denice is pretty good with a brush, but she knows there’s more to learn, and having a more practical skill set certainly won’t hurt her long-term.

Denice doesn’t know anyone in the room.

She’s still a freshman after all, and there hasn’t been a ton of chances to get to know the department, what with her spending almost all her time not in the theater building getting her gen-eds out of the way. But she’s here, and she at least recognizes a few of the faces from around the theater building. As usual, she’s the shortest person in the room, but, she notices with a jolt, she’s not the only vertically challenged person in the room. The person across the room from her is intimidatingly cool. Their clothes are already covered in paint, and the shaved sides of their hair are showing off the multiple ear piercings to their best advantage.

Denice wants to be their friend immediately.

“Alright, everyone is here, so let's get into it,” says one of the two men at the front of the group. He’s got on jeans and Hawaiian shirt. “For the few of you I don’t recognize, I’m John Burgess, you should definitely call me John, I never respond to professor. I’m also the technical director here and am in the middle of designing the musical so this semester I am partnering up with Richard over here to make sure that one of us is always able to be focused on this class. Richard?”

“Hi there everyone, I’m Richard Finkelstein, please don’t be offended if it takes me a while to tell you apart, I have facial blindness.” Richard Finkelstein looks as if a walrus muppet was a person, and has on paint-covered Crocs. Denice likes him at once.

“I figured we could start with you all saying your names and majors and anything else important that the group should know so that I can start to put names and voices together and you all can meet and then John and I will do a demonstration before getting you all set up with your first assignment.”

They go around the circle, pretty evenly split between theater and art majors. There’s a surprise nursing major, so that’ll be cool. Finally, they get to the other short person in the room.

“Hey. I’m Lardo, and I use they/them pronouns, and I’m an art major.”

“Great!” says John, “Richard and I are going to demonstrate your first assignment: painting wood to look like wood.” He grins wickedly when the theater kids groan at this. “About seventy-five percent of all theatrical painting is making wood look like different wood. Another twenty percent is painting wood to look like rock. And the other five percent is painting something other than wood. But I digress. For now, you will take this sheet of luan and make it look like it’s made up of old, painted fence posts with a variety of basic techniques.”

Richard and John walk the class through scumbling and dry brushing, pointing out the different types of brushes on their sticks, and doling out tips as they go. In a matter of minutes, the empty sheet of wood is transformed.

“Holy shit, they’re fast,” Denice hears from next to her. She turns to agree and her words die in her mouth - Lardo has drifted closer to her during the demo. Denice manages to nod, at least.

“Alright, paint’s up front, your luan sheets are over there, and they are already primed so no worries there, go ahead and partner up and try to recreate what Richard and I just did. Winning duo gets bragging rights and also a tiny little target on their backs. And,” he rummages in his pocket for a second, “one dollar each. Go!”

Denice is fully prepared to look around for a partner when she finds herself being towed along already by Lardo.

“Oh-okay?”

“Short people solidarity, Denice,” Lardo says.

“Right. Right. Okay, I’ll get the sticks set if you get the paint?”

“Done, let’s motor.”

The next few minutes are a blur of paint and moving around Lardo. Despite slamming into each other once, Denice thinks their piece looks pretty darn good. There’s a few things she would do differently on a second attempt, but she knows if they keep touching it now it’ll get ruined.

“Nice work, Denice,” Lardo says, holding their hand out for a fist bump. Denice bumps back awkwardly, she’s seen her football-playing brothers do that, but the theater crowd is more about high-fives and hugs and strange intricate rituals viewed from wing to wing across a stage than fist bumps.

“I think we did a good job,” says Denice.

“Fucking right,” Lardo says.

“Excellent work indeed you two,” comes John from behind them, startling both of them. “Gather round everyone, Denice and Lardo are the winners! Take your dollars, don’t spend them all in one place, yadda yadda yadda.”

“This dry brushing is really excellent, and you two did just enough over the scumble to make it look like there are multiple layers of paint on your fence,” chimes in Richard.

“Dope,” says Lardo.

“Thank you,” says Denice, more grateful than ever for her dark skin for hiding her blush.

“Everyone else, thanks for playing. Make sure you all wash your brushes, sign your work, and get out of there, we’ll see you back on Thursday morning,” John says.

The class murmurs goodbye, some of the theatre kids hanging back to chat with John and Richard, the rest moving off to pack up and get to their next class. Denice lingers when she sees an email from her stage manager for Sweeney Todd pop up. It seems they are short of audition forms and she’ll have to go to the student center to photocopy some more. She sets off and is immediately hailed by a shout as she hits the courtyard.

“Yo, Denice! Wait up!”

“Yes?” She waits for Lardo to catch up before continuing on.

“It was a dream team in there today,” Lardo says, “Want to be my painting buddy for any other partner stuff?”

“Sure! It was fun painting with you as well.”

“Oh good, I worried that my fine art background would make this kind of painting harder.”

“Yeah, I get that, from what I understand about fine art, I think the concepts are the same, just on a bigger scale and you have to keep lighting in mind more than with traditional painting.”

“Makes sense. You said you’re a theater major?”

“Mhmm.”

“What’s your normal specialty?”

“How do you know it isn’t scenic art?” Denice asks.

“Not enough paint on your backpack,” Lardo fires back.

Denice laughs. “Fair enough. I’m normally a stage manager - looking over the script changes, calling cues, managing the cast and rehearsals and scheduling and what not. It’s a lot of paperwork.”

“Sounds a lot like my job -” Lardo starts before being cut off by a bellow from across the quad.

“LARDO YOU BEAUT GET OVER HERE! I MISS YOU! IT’S BEEN SO LONG!”

A mustachioed brunette white guy is waving Lardo over frantically. A taller black haired man stands next to him, rubbing his hand over his face in resignation.

Lardo chuckles to themselves before turning to Denice. “I have to go sort him out, but have a great rest of your day, and I’ll see you in class on Thursday?”

“I’ll be there,” Denice confirms.

“Nice, you’re chill. I’m keeping you,” says Lardo. “Later Denice!”

As they jog away Denice hears Lardo yell back to her friend, “SHITTY WOULD YOU CALM DOWN IT'S BEEN LESS THAN TWO HOURS YOU’RE UPSETTING JACK!”

She doesn’t know what’s going on there, but she’s looking forward to finding out on Thursday.

[somethingnurseywoulddo]

okay so i had to work a cross country meet from very early this morning until very late in the evening but let me just say i very much appreciate the wlw/mlm ford and whiskey content that was posted i age that shit up so fast yum yum yum

[unemployedundergraduate]

I’m so proud of this one, whiskey looks a little weird, but I still think it looks really good for being one of my first drawings

https://www.redbubble.com/i/sticker/WTF-OMGCP-by-amandag4/54976770.JCQM3

[baselessomgcpheadcanons]

Ford loves classic Sailor Moon.

[atlasthemayor]

Speaking of Ford in other media:

Rippy Roo is Ford's fursona

I shall ellaborate no further

[little-bittle-monica-inmylife]

Look the ending of check please has left a lot up for debate, but what is not up for debate is the fact that Dex 100% gave his dibs to Ford after he graduated

[peanutdoodler]

Ford doodles!!!

[dyinginjapanese]

I doodled this in class yesterday and decided to color it ;w;

(original sketch here)

[cricketnationrise]

haus kitchen 3:12am

Denice is blinking rapidly, trying to stay awake for just a little longer, trying to stave off a yawn, trying to finish one more set of line notes--and seriously who gets “to be or not to be” wrong after the first time?--when suddenly her laptop is gone, something soft is draped around her shoulders, and a mug of what smells like her preferred bedtime tea is pushed into her hands.

“Hey, I need to finish those,” she says, still a little bleary-eyed, and mostly halfheartedly.

“Ford. You’re exhausted.”

“Drink your tea, Foxy, the line notes will still be here in the morning.”

Denice does what they say not because they told her to mind you, but because the tea is warm and the blanket is cozy and okay wow it is past 3am.

As the first sip hits her lips and she can’t stop a sigh from slipping out. Tango’s constant questions means that he knows exactly how long to steep her tea. As she glances down, she sees the red and black of the Arizona Diamondbacks and smiles to herself, knowing that Whiskey gave her the blanket off his own bed.

She lets her mind drift off to the sound of Whiskey and Tango talking softly about the Spanish Mythology class they’re taking this semester as they clean up the kitchen. Denice closes her eyes listens to the soft sound of rain from outside as she slowly drinks her tea. 

The line notes can wait till morning after all.