𝕊ℍ𝔸ℝℙ / 𝘎𝘓𝘖𝘙𝘐𝘖𝘜𝘚.

    “You saying teenage me didn’t?” The offense coloring the man’s tone was in jest, one brow arched in feigned shock. “Here I was thinking the reason I didn’t date much back then was just because I was otherwise occupied.” That, and, like Forrest he hardly ever attempted to socialize. “Good to know I also looked a fool.” The laugh that finally followed ruined any trace of looking heartbroken by this supposed news. His friend’s spirits apparently rubbing very slightly off on him, “something removable?” A flicker of amusement danced in his dark hues. “Planning on this evening going that well? Do I get to play wingman?” Despite the complaints, Forrest’s sweater really seemed like the better option from his stand point. Though, his attire hardly seemed to blame for how uncomfortable Michael was. “You’ll have better insulation if you go out for the slopes. Besides, I can’t take much credit. Had a little help with picking it out. I think Sam might’ve had a bit of fun using me like a manikin.” 

Eyebrows lift upwards, the amusement clear across the man’s face as he thinks back to what the pair used to be like in high-school. Those images that flash across his face now had been tucked away ( mainly because Forrest had no desire to remember is more awkward years ), but they bring a smile to his face now.  ❝ Don’t take it too personally. I don’t think either of us could exactly be considered strapping as high-schoolers. Just comes with the territory of being teens, yeah? ❞  Forrest unfortunately did not have the foresight through his slightly tipsy state to think of the slight innuendo that might be interpreted from his prior statement about being too warm. He chokes slightly on the drink still in his mouth, waving his friend off with a bemused smirk.  ❝ Er — no, my two dates for the night are River and the old man, now that he’s in the free and clear. Feel free to save your wingman-ing for another time and date. ❞  His cheeks pinkish and warm from the slight embaressment, that always surfaces in talks of his lack of a love life, find comfort as Forrest brings his drink back up to his lips for another sip.  ❝ Ah this is her work then? I should’ve known. I’m a bit hurt that I wasn’t invited to the fashion show, but I suppose I can let it slide. ❞

Had Hannah been in a more sober state of mind, the current no power, no cell reception situation would have had her in a panic. But her foresight, smoking with Jack, had been a happy mistake. The single mother was someone who was always in control, always ready for situations like this, always responsible, but tonight- tonight with no worries, responsibilities, a room upstairs and Niko with Alec’s parents, Hannah could let loose. Instead of worrying, the brunette had wrapped herself in a table cloth to keep warm and wandered around the growingly crowded hotel in search of a friendly and familiar face. She’d thought she’d been following Jasmine but the woman had turned around and the flashlight on Hannah’s phone that had been lighting the way for her revealed that she’d been sorely mistaken. The realization caused laughter to bubble up from within the brunette at the ensuing staring contest that began with the stranger who was understandably shaken at being followed. It wasn’t until she had to look away, her laughter becoming too much, that she noticed Forrest waving her over. 

“Forrest!” She declared excitedly as she approached, plopping down on the floor next to him with a lopsided grin on her features. “What’re you doing sitting in the corner by yourself? Are you hiding from someone?”

If the pain in his leg wasn’t nearly as shocking, he might have been able to pick up on the telltale signs of someone that has had a little something to smoke and actually teased her on if she had a little extra for him to take the edge off the pain. As straight laced and rigid as Forrest sometimes came off, he wasn’t this priggish jerk. — Then again, he wasn’t really helping his case now as a loud wince releases from his lips preemptively, thinking that she might accidentally pump into him.  ❝ Mmm... yes and no. I, er —❞  he begins to prepare to move his leg for her to see, but then thinks better of it and gestures instead,  ❝—actually not sure what I did. Some tuber went out of control and well... If you know anyone with some medical supplies on hand, I’m all ears, but otherwise... I have a feeling more attention might not be the best thing. ❞  If small talk was difficult before, it’s nearly impossible now as he struggles with forgetting about the shooting pain in his leg and all the trouble that’s likely to come from this.  ❝ —You uh.. seem to be having a good time though. Did you win big at the raffles? ❞

Well... the night certainly wasn’t going to plan that was for sure. What had started as a surprisingly fun and festive evening had deteriorated rather quickly for the eldest Everly sibling. With no cell phone capabilities, not only was Forrest unable to get in touch with his younger sibling and father but also unable to call any sort of medical help. Taking to the corner of the rather large event space, Forrest did what he could to not think about the pain as he lay waiting for Emilia to return with some sort of semblance of first aid materials. 

Head rolling to the side, his eyes register an friendly face. He forces something that he hopes looks like a smile and tries his best to wave her over. Forrest knows from personal experience that mentality can help to some degree with pain management. Surely a chat with a friend could be just that for him, right?  ❝ Hey, Hannah. You hanging in there alright? ❞ 

After their time with River, and making complete fools of themselves together, it seemed Emilia got caught up in some trouble. That trouble, resulting in a giant tear of her dress. Sure, some exposed thigh was delicious on any evening, but not exactly when your dress costed more than you’d like the admit publicly. Still, she didn’t want this to ruin her fun. Especially when River parted, leaving her alone with Forrest Everly, and the two went outside. “Don’t worry about me.” She huffs a laugh, wrapping her jacket around her tighter, “I’m pretty sure if I hold the jacket tight enough, no one will notice the rip.” She looks down, trying to see if those words were true.

Eyes drift across Emilia, a sheepish grin rather prominent in the wake of their misfortune. The days of overexcitement on the ice had ended promptly after he left university. There was the rather unusually large amount of drinks that he had ingested and his natural, playful rivalry that he could blame, but still... the guilt weighs rather heavily.  ❝ I can give you mine if you like? ❞  He quickly looks her over, taking not of bare skin that could easily fall victim to the cold.  ❝ Here really, it’s no problem at all. ❞  Forrest adds with a small smile, his blush only deepening as he begins shrugging off the jacket on his shoulders. He was a grown man: offering a jacket to a woman whose dress he had accidentally caused to rip should not be making him this bashful.   ❝ I.. well... I feel silly saying this now after your dress has fallen victim to the Everly family competitiveness, but it’s been so nice having you here tonight — and dinner. ❞  His head, which had dropped down ( the excuse being that he had to focus on the removal of his jacket ), rises back up to look at her as he holds out the jacket.  ❝ I was thinking, maybe... ❞ What was he thinking?  ❝ If you haven’t been too frightened by my dance moves from earlier, could I interest you in another dance? ❞

Long legs keep him moving forward, an inch ahead of her. His attention so focused on the beautiful woman in front of him, and keeping his nerves at bay, Forrest doesn’t register the rumble of a tuber that had gotten a bit too much force and bit too far off course. It isn’t until he hears the drunken slurring of some kind of warning and feels the crunching of something in his knee that he realizes it’s all too late. Swept off of his feet, Forrest lands hard on the icy snow below. Shock from the event only spares him a few moments of  relief before the pain registers and a low, guttural groan releases from his lips.  ❝ Shit. Shit. Shit. ❞  Eyes flash over to where he believed the tuber to be, but between the burning pain in his leg and ringing in his head, nothing is making much sense.  ❝ Are you okay? ❞

River’s watching their father with their mouth covered and head shaking, witnessing the older man tear it up on the dance floor right now. If “tearing it up” was taken as an offensive term. Still, they were glad he was having fun tonight, even if it came at the cost of that poor woman being taken hostage by his terrible dancing. “I don’t know, maybe we don’t go save her. That could be our future step-mom out there, y’know,” they joke, perhaps a little darkly but they would blame that on the beers they’ve had so far. They’re taken off-guard by Forrest’s sudden perking up and near-spilling of his champagne on them, waving in someone’s direction. Eyes widen slightly, before their eyes follow his gaze and find Emilia. They smirk and wait for Emilia to get closer before whistling at her. “Wowee. I am looking respectfully when I say this, but that dress? Breath-taking. Let me know if you need a human foot stool at any point tonight, I am available,” they tease her before taking a sip of their beer. They gesture over to their dad on the dance floor. “You looking to get on line to dance with the best dancer in our family?” @emclias​

–

It was a night of chatting with familiar faces. It was hard to say her greetings to everyone she saw and knew. After a certain point, she told herself that there was no use, and there was no way she’d be able to see everyone. Except, in the midst of her talks, she saw a familiar gentleman, who was serving it up on the dancefloor. And from that, she saw the dynamic duo on the edge of the dancefloor, cringing quite visibly. Emilia parted from her current conversation to approach, walking over to Forrest and River. The former, who was not enthusiastically waving at her. She waved back, unable to help her grin. After which, she gestured to their father. “I’m so glad to see him up and moving.” Her eyes crinkle before her hands move to flatten over her dress, blushing at their compliments. “You guys are too kind, thank you.” She swats at their words, but it’s clear by her face, the compliments are not unwelcomed. “You both look quite dapper yourselves.” Looking over River, and to Forrest, it’s a bit longer of a look to take the older Everly in, reaching out a slender finger to gesture up and down his torso. “Sweater looks good on you.” But the question about their father is raised, and she laughs. “Honestly? Would be an honor. Looks like he’s having the time of his life.” @forresteverly​

The laughter lines around Forrest’s eyes deepen as he listens to his younger sibling go off on their rather animated flirtations. Nudging into them gently, he rolls his eyes though its all clearly in jest, as he adds on,  ❝ They’re not joking either. ❞  A gentle heat rises from his neck to his cheeks as Emilia’s finger gestures to his sweater, but before he’s able to come up with anything in response, the topic of conversation is being switched to his father. Thank God.  ❝ Well he may be tied up right now, but... ❞  A playful spark flashes across his eyes, one that likely hasn’t been seen since his younger days.  ❝ Although I may not be our father, I did get the privilege of learning from the old man. What do you two say? ❞  His drink is set to the side, leaving him with the ability to extend one to his sibling and one to his father’s beloved nurse.  ❝ Think you can post-pone the human-footstool-ing, River, and help me teach, Emilia how the Everly’s dance? ❞ // @river-everly​

      Selfishly, given he was sporting all the signs of being about as off put as a melodramatic wet cat, Michael had been vaguely expecting that perhaps his long-time friend might be able to commiserate with him that evening. Instead, Forrest seemed in fairly exceptional spirits. “I do not have enough alcohol in me yet to even pretend to match your enthusiasm.” The ranger scoffed, though the ghost of a grin still lingered at the corner of his mouth. It was early yet in the evening, not quite at the point of need to escape out into the crisp night air. The ice rink would be his refuge at some point, but Mick had a bit of hand shaking to do before he had too much alcohol in him to make a good impression. Not that, earnestly, Michael thought he made all that swell of an impression on people in general. 

    Umber hues skirted the gathering crowd, wiggling his shoulders in hopes that eventually he might feel a little bit less suffocated in his suit jacket. “You think I would get used to this kind of annual thing,” he mused with a dry laugh. Poking some fun at his own expense. “Pretty sure I feel as awkward in this suit as I did at prom senior year.”

Forrest Everly had never been a party person. Throughout high school, he liked to keep it to his small circle of friends, only venturing outside of his comfort group when someone was on their knees begging and pleading. Time and age hadn’t done much to change that, but what had was his father’s rather good spirits now that his condition was only continuing to improve. Forrest was nearly indistinguishable: all white flashing teeth and dimples. With one hand on his drink and the other on his friend’s shoulder, he gives him a good natured pat.  ❝ You know... I was saying the same thing this time last year, but they either put something a little extra in the drinks this year, or it’s grown on me. C’mon, Mick, there’s no comparison to prom. I mean, look at you... you look good, buddy. — I’m starting to think I made a mistake going the sweater route. ❞  His lips turn downwards upon the realization. Fingers tug gently at the neckline of his turtleneck.  ❝ It’s a bit warm. I could do with something more versatile, and well... removable. ❞

The Everly’s were definitely not one’s known for their dancing skills, but Mr. Everly had made it a mission to prove to his children that that ended this evening. With one hand on his younger sibling’s shoulder and the other sheltering his eyes, Forrest did his best to keep from either bursting into laughter or cringing himself into nonexistence as they watch their father dance with some poor woman. ❝ When do you think we go save her? ❞ he asks River in a breathy, lighthearted tone before bringing the drink in hand up to his lips. Eyes flickering back over to the duo, Forrest stops short upon the appearance of a familiar face. His hand shoots up in a rather overenthusiastic wave, nearly knocking his champagne right onto River, ❝ Emilia! Hi! You, wow! You look amazing! ❞

“First of all, back up,  please, ” she said, reaching out to clear some space between herself and the man who had been shooting failed advances at her for the better part of the night. She thought she remembered the guy from high school. She might have been more than friendly with him back them, but at the moment, he was on her last nerve.  “Second, your breath smells like a cross between a fifth of Mad Dog and a pile of steaming shit. Like you bathed in a cess pool or something. Seriously. I’m not impressed,” she said, bringing a hand up to her face to block out the offensive smell. Just then a warm presence filled the space behind and she breathed a sigh of relief as she turned to face whomever it was that had unknowingly come to save her life. “I swear I thought my soul was about to raise up out of my body if I had to smell that dudes breath another second. Thanks to you, I breathe again” she chuckled. “Can I get you a drink or something? To pay back the favor I mean” she said, too unbothered to care if the bothersome man had caught the hint finally. @elisabethstarters​

𝙍𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩 → 𝐹𝑜𝓇𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓁𝓎

Formal and semi-formal attire are seldom something that Forrest opts for in his normal day to day wear. However, given the fact that his father is in much better health and would never let him live it down, Forrest will be attending with his father. Downing a form fitting, cable knit turtle neck, dark navy-grey checked slacks, and brown vegan leather oxfords, he’s hoping to look the part while making sure comfort takes priority for the long night ahead. Although he’ll be sure to check out all of the various things going on, guests will likely catch him out on the ice for a majority of the evening.

It had been a long day of scouting, and Jess was beat. One would think her supervisor Rebecca would be generous enough to let her crash in her hotel room at last and sleep the day off, but no. A nightcap was needed, it was decided. So here they were, and soon she didn’t even have Rebecca to talk to, losing her to some guy they’d just met. “Oh, I wouldn’t start the wedding bells ringing just yet.” She leaned in closer to talk to the guy in a more quiet, conspiratorial way. “This is somewhat classified, but Rebecca’s in the middle of a divorce, you see. So if anything, we can call it a rebound.” Her eyes jumped to the long haired blonde at the other end of the room, currently throwing her head back in laughter at what Jess assumed must have been a riotous joke. “Then again, maybe there’s a precedent for rebounding so hard you actually end up marrying the first person you meet. Who knows.”

The lowering of his counterpoint’s voice draws him in, leaving him scrunching down to listen in like a young school boy. Lips draw into a small frown when the news breaks, and Forrest immediately looks over to the woman in question. While he was never exactly one for being nosey, the uncertainty of the state of the divorce of her friend, leaves him wanting nothing more than to look for something positive to change the topic to. Luckily, he doesn’t need to come up with some poor apology and weak transition because she provides him with the perfect out. Raising his glass, he adds, ❝ Unfortunately, I cannot offer any personal anecdotes on the matter, but here’s to a healthy recovery regardless. ❞ Okay, so maybe he didn’t push that far enough, which only leads him pondering what next to say as he takes a sip. ❝ I’m Forrest by the way. Not sure how much this means coming from a random guy, but uh... Tom’s a stand-up guy. ❞ This time Forrest’s voice lowers, deep lines around his eyes crinkling in the onset of a small joke, ❝ ... Other than his slightly less than normal obsession with making it onto Survivor... despite you know... not being American. He’s told me he’s written at least two letters asking for them to make an exception. ❞

Frankie was sat nearby but while Forrest was politely sitting quietly, she was not. Instead, she was making small gag noises beneath her breath as she rolled her eyes. It was a little much and the comment of finding a room was on her tongue. Peering at Forrest when he spoke to her, she couldn’t help but give him a grimace. “Too much.” She echoed back. Love was nice and all but it wasn’t nice when they were meant to be drinking as friends and the half of them had their tongue down each others throats. “I’d rather bet on who’s going to get what in the divorce.” Okay, maybe that was a little dark and she shot Forrest an apologetic look. “Can we just go sit at the bar because I’d rather look at liquid being poured into a glass than those two.”

Forrest by no means has a problem with poking fun, especially when it was his good friends that he knew could take a hit or too. Frankie’s subtle just at the longevity of their friend’s relationship elicits a louder than intended laugh. ❝ Alright... alright... ❞ he begins with a shake of his head. Hands wave through the air to make her stop ( as if he wasn’t the one to start this all in the first place ) before he nods towards the bar. ❝ Drinks can be on me for tonight for getting this started... but don’t take advantage of it, Leon. ❞ he adds, with a narrowing of his eyes, but, of course, it’s all in jest. As frugal as Forrest is with his personal spending, treating his friends doesn’t pay him a second thought. Not one for overt affection, this is one of his ways of showing them he cares. ❝ I don’t want this conversation to turn into one about what part time job I should be picking up to help foot the liquor bill. ❞

➳

Shea loved getting out on the town— even if it wasn’t exactly the town she was looking to be in, it was something. She wanted to feel like she was surrounded by just as many people as in New York City, the city she longed to be in more than anything. Maybe she should be better at imaging but for now, she just enjoys sipping on wine, leaning back in her chair, watching the pair get up and start dancing. She wanted to be dancing too. “If they don’t ask me to be their maid of honor, I’m going to be pissed. I’m a pro at weddings,” she says, rolling her gaze back to the other man she’d been left with. Not that he was bad— or bad looking by any means, she just wanted to be out there too. “Maybe their theme could be walking through the vineyards since both of them have had more wine than us combined,” she says, holding her glass up for him to cheers with. “Cheers to catching up… Both in love and wine.” Downing her wine, she’s made her point, she guesses. @forresteverly​

An eyebrow lifts at her comment about weddings. He hadn’t been aware that was a thing outside of actual wedding planners. No, any time that he had any participation in a wedding beyond being a guest, Forrest had always been too worried about something go wrong to actually fully enjoy the love and festivities. ❝ Well, if it means anything in the slightest, I will completely vouch for you, ❞ he replies, tipping his glass to her, as he takes anther sip. Before he has a chance to fully swallow, he’s left coughing it down when her next comment registers. Swiping the red wine from his lips, Forrest nods his head with a broad smile. ❝ Now you’re just proving your point... here I was thinking that it would be some sort of a beach wedding on the coast, but this? This is so much better. I can only imagine we’ll have unlimited opportunities to catch up on a vineyard venue. ❞ The normal discomfort he feels with small talk bubbles up, but whether the good news of his father or the ample amount of wine currently warming his insides, Forrest is in a great mood. A chatty mood even. ❝ I’m Forrest by the way. It’s nice to meet you, future Maid of Honor ❞

Where are you from?

❝ Fremont, born and raised. ❞

Do you have any siblings?

❝ I’ve have one. They’re a bit of a goof I guess you could say, but River’s the best of the Everly’s. There’s no question about it. That kid’s going places. ❞ // @river-everly

Are you active on social media, or do you prefer to be more private?

❝ I suppose I’m rather private, but if you ask my friend Safiye, she’ll tell you how I’m the next up-and-coming influencer. ❞ // @safiyeosman

Have you ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed you?

❝ The first bloom every spring. ❞ He won’t elaborate much beyond that, but the truth is the flowers will always remind him of his mother: of her kindness, her patience, her tender care when watching over the things she held dear ( whether it be flowers or a plate of food for customers ), and her undying love.  

8. Which of your parents or guardians are you more like?

❝ My father. My mother was always so patient and so kind hearted. I love my father, but I think we could’ve learned a little something about letting go of grudges and to let go of our need to always be right, but — what can you do? ❞

36. What would be the hat to end all hats? What could you wear on your head that would make people stop what they are doing and stare in awe and amazement?

❝ Excuse me? ❞ Eyebrows furrow in confusion as he tries to decipher what exactly the question is. ❝ The hat to end all hats? Well... I know I’m not one to talk to about any sort of fashion advice. Maybe something that’s a mixture between one of those yellow rain hats, but fleece lined for winter. That’d be great for farming. ❞

32. Where was the most embarrassing place you’ve farted?

❝ Oh... I was singing during my younger sibling’s baptism service, and let’s just say the older church ladies never let me live it down. ❞ @river-everly

30. Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love?

❝ Oh, of course. ❞ His answer is immediate. Forrest may question everything, but there’s no doubt in his mind about this. ❝ All you needed to do was see my parents together to know that they were each other’s soulmates. ❞

closed for: @forresteverly​ where: everly family farm when: thursday, jan 14th 2021 @ 11AM

River may have been twenty-six years old, but their love and adoration for frogs would be child-like for the rest of their life. At the pond nearby, River spotted the cutest frog and simply had to take it to show their brother. Stopping their work, they trudged over to where Forrest was working, carefully holding the frog. “Bro, you are not gonna believe the cutie I just found.” They held up the frog towards him, a gleam in their eye as if they had struck gold. “I hope this one decides to stick around the farm for a while. Looks a little on the smaller side so I think it’s a male. What should we call him? I feel like I should steer clear of calling every single one I find ‘Kermit’.” They tilted their head. “How about… Michigan J. Frog? Hello my baby, hello my honey, hello my ragtime gal,” they started to sing.

An exasperated sigh expels from his lips as Forrest sets his tools down to peer over in his sibling’s direction. He, of course, already has a fairly good idea of the little creature that has taken their attention away from work, but — as always — Forrest willingly entertains their new amphibian friend for River. ❝ Michigan J. Frog? Well if that’s the name you’re going for, I highly suggest you keep the signing to him, ❞ he replies, eyebrows raising playfully. ❝ How about something more fitting... like Trevor. You do give off impeccable Neville Longbottom vibes, as you say, and don’t get me started on this hair. ❞ His hand reaches up to playfully ruffle it. ❝ What one was that again, where he had the long locks? Phoenix trial cup? With the dragons? ❞