#elijahfalvey

[edwardsthalia]

Thalia nodded and moved to pick up the plant. At least Elijah was a regular and she didn't need to go through the motions about transporting flowers safely. Her cursory interactions at the yoga studio with Nilay were pleasant enough although Thalia did sometimes wish that they weren't such a happy couple. "Once they leave my care, I relinquish my emotional investment." Thalia joked, deadpan as always. "If you need additional assistance do let me know. I can provide more detailed guidance if desired."

Elijah’s cats always had a knack for getting into just about everything, even unintentionally. Just last week, Oliver had accidentally knocked over one of Nilay’s more precious potted plants in an attempt to chase after his favorite spring toy. Eve had run off, but Kemet had helped track the dirt all across the living room floor to ensure there was no way that Eli could have repotted it by himself. It was probably for the best that they didn’t keep any form of toxic flower in the house, regardless of how well that they thought they were capable of keeping it out of reach — it would never be well enough. “I think you’ve sold me, then,” he admitted with a smile. “I can’t promise that I won’t end up killing it somehow, but at the very least . . . well, I can try my best.” With a laugh, he added, “I’ll see one bloom.”

[safyavas]

𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆: sometime before Nilay's birthday, somewhere, someplace Downtown—choose your own adventure! 𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘: @elijahfalvey

It had not been Safiye's intention to run into Elijah whatsoever but now, faced with her sort-of brother-in-law just before her sister's birthday, seemed like the perfect time to. Since she wasn't one to wave her hand boisterously in the streets, she decided to pick up her pace and catch up to his strides instead. "Eli!" she called out from just a few steps away. There were so many unknowns, still, about Nilay—so much more she wish she just instictively knew. Before she sought out to buy out an entire Anthropologie location, upon seeing Elijah, she thought having a consultation with the one closest to her might be of some help. "Selam," she greeted him, leaning in to touch her cheek to his in classic Turkish greeting. As soon as Nilay had entered her life, every little bit of Türkçe culture had started sticking. "I haven't seen you, or Nilay, in quite awhile," she began, her tone implying no malice, "But I'm so excited that I'm getting a chance to chat with you before y'know– the Big Day!"

[jacklynchh]

➥ location: o'shea's ➥ timestamp: wednesday evening ➥ status: closed starter for @elijahfalvey

The clock on the wall radiated judgement, its hands pointed at seven-fifteen like an accusation. Jack averted his eyes and polished off his beer, then slid the glass over to join its twin at the side of the table. Dregs of foam still clung to their insides, slowly dribbling down to pool at the bottom. If he left now, he could still make it. Forty-five minutes left. And yet, as he hauled himself up from his seat it wasn't to head out the door, it was to make another beeline to the bar. Only two feet from the table did he stop, turning at the sound of another man's greeting, and found Elijah heading his way.

"Oh, hey man." Hands shoved in his pockets, he tried to clear his expression of any guilt that might betray him there. It only half worked. He still felt like a kid getting caught skipping class. "Been a while."

[theromandaniels]

≈ la galleria. with @elijahfalvey

A double date. Oh what fun. Roman had been roped into accompanying Ophelia to dinner, who’s latest guy on the scene had a cousin visiting in town and he didn’t want to leave her home alone. So Ophelia, ever the meddler, offered up Roman for the night. Right in front of everyone, mind you, so Roman couldn’t even say no. That led them to La Galleria, where he found Ophelia’s date was offensive, and his own offensively boring, and Ophelia kicking his leg under the table because he was filling himself up on the complimentary bread basket, because that way he was too busy chewing to engage in conversation. 

It was from the distance he noticed a recognizable lanky figure get up and head towards the bathrooms, interest piqued and blood boiling at the sight. He hadn’t seen Elijah since June, and had vowed to keep away especially following the incident with Nilay. But whether it be finding a reason to get out of this date, or following his revelation and conversation with Toni about everything, he found himself getting up and following Eli, not aware of what he was doing until he had swung through the door of the male toilets and pinned his former friend against the nearest wall. “Shame your little girlfriend isn’t here to protect you this time,” He sneered, the anger taking no time at all to bubble up, faces close together. “It’s really a new low, Elijah. Getting her to come over and tell me off for upsetting her poor, defenseless, kept man.” 

[hvneymelons]

Juno Cosette Behar📱 Elijah Ray Falvey

@elijahfalvey J: [voice note] Hello, Elijah. I will be arriving fifteen to twenty minutes late today. There is a funeral in front of me and I cannot bypass. Do not forget that you have a meeting this morning. They have already emailed the meeting link. It is screenshotted to your homescreen.

[doctornilayxaksoy-esfahani]

instagram DOCTORNILAYBAILEY JUST MADE A POST.

@elijahfalvey

[thephoebeyates]

≈ MOREMUSIC studio. with @elijahfalvey

It might have not been a productive morning in learning the ‘mad woman’ x ‘Cassandra’ mashup she had originally come to the studio for, but Phoebe figured that attempting to teach Eli the viral ‘Apple’ dance was just as valuable time spent. All she had to do now was convince him and Leon to film it with her, though perhaps she should have counted her blessings that the older men had agreed to learn it at all. “Okay, just slightly off-beat that time but it’s only easier on the videos because they speed the footage up!” She remarked cheerfully, guessing the producer’s seemingly downtrodden mood was definitely related to the Charli XCX song. 

She paused the music, slumping down on what she considered her couch in the studio, looking at him thoughtfully. “What’s up? Sad old man stuff?” Phoebe gestured him over, indicating she was all ears if he wanted to talk about…well, whatever it was. 

[quinweisz]

who: Quintana & @elijahfalvey where: A table outside Chilled Creamery

So the job hunt was going... not great. Slower than Chicago, which was to be expected, but Jesus fuckin' Christ did nobody respect the hometown rule? That everyone was obligated at least one minimum-wage job in the place they'd lived the longest? She had half a mind to run for office to sign that shit into law when the quickly-melting ice cream dripped onto her fingers. "Fuck," she groaned, licking it off her hands and taking a bigger bite of the cold treat. "Unbelievable," she said, mouth still full.

Before she could get back to her righteous anger, Quintana spied a familiar cowlick towering over the crowd. "Eli fucking Falvey!" she yelled, jumping to her feet and waving an arm before Quin took off practically sprinting to him. "What are you doing back here, Gigantor?" she demanded, grin practically splitting her face in two. "Last I heard you were... some hotshot out in LA. Surely too important to be seen with us common folk," Quinnie laughed, throwing her free arm around his waist in a hug. She looked back at her half-eaten ice cream, taking another bite and holding it up towards his face, "You still on your freak shit? Hating on mint ice cream?"

[jamesxbennett]

Where: James' apartment, Deer Park Who: @elijahfalvey

It still boggled his mind that he was here. Standing in the middle of a somewhat bare loft with floor-to-ceiling industrial windows that overlooked Blue Harbor University, the sunlight streaming in, boxes strewn about...

This was home now.

The blond couldn't help but let out a chuckle. Damn it, Nilay, he thought. Leave it to her to convince him to take a job and move states. She had a habit of pointing out things he didn't know he needed. James felt this was one of those times yet again.

He guessed it was just right that it was Eli who was helping him move because it's technically his wife's fault that he was here now. Seeing Eli carry some boxes, James ran over and got some to help him out and placed them on the kitchen counter.

"Thanks so much for helping out, Eli," James said. "I think we're almost done anyway. Just a few more boxes and the couch." Along with his desk, the couch was something he insisted on moving, though he was still thinking of how he and Eli would move it into the apartment.

"We could take five though." The blond sighed. "You want a root beer?"

[dahliayoung]

To: Elijah Falvey <elijahfalvey@moremusic.com> From: Dahlia Young <dahliamae@gmail.com> Subject: Studio Time Inquiry

Saturday, September 21, 2024, 3:41 PM

Hello, My name is Dahlia Young and I'm reaching out to find out what the rates for booking studio time are. I'm currently working on some new material and would love to record at More Music! I also wanted to ask if you offer any payment plans or flexible options, as my budget is a bit tight at the moment. I'd appreciate any information you can provide. I look forward to hearing from you! Sincerely, Dahlia

TAGGING: @elijahfalvey

[themissing-linc]

who: lincoln & @elijahfalvey where: re-chording

Re-chording had become part of Lincoln's weekly routine. When he first moved back, he'd justified his weekly visits under the guise of getting his acoustic re-strung, but after that, he kept coming. There were a couple rare records for sale-- their price tags rightfully within the hundreds and thousands-- that Linc was passively keeping an eye on, a pressing of Diamond Dogs for over three grand, an early recording of (What's the Story) Morning Glory? for a couple hundred. He'd gotten to know a couple of the cashiers, too, and liked to see who was playing what.

Today, Linc had some time to kill before he was due at work. He smiled a greeting to the cashier when the bell on the door announced his presence, and Linc immediately made a beeline to the vinyl section-- only to find someone else already there. He planted himself in front of jazz, flipping through Chet Baker and Ella Fitzgerald albums, half-looking for anything by the Ink Spots and half-glancing at the man next to him. Surely that wasn't...

"Finding anything good?" he asked, making eye contact with the man he was now certain was Elijah Falvey. Linc could always tell when someone was studying him, trying to place his face-- and if he had experienced that a handful of times, how much more had Elijah felt the same thing? He figured it was best to get out ahead of it, to admit that he was... well, more than a little starstruck. "I'm Linc," he offered his hand to shake, "I'm... a big fan. Sorry if that's-- I don't mean to be weird about it."

[averyherochopra]

📖🇭​​🇪​​🇷​​🇴​ ​🇨​​🇭​​🇴​​🇵​​🇷​​🇦​ & ​🇪​​🇱​​🇮​​🇯​​🇦​​🇭​ ​🇫​​🇦​​🇱​​🇻​​🇪​​🇾​

"I feel like every time I look at you, you look more and more like an idiot. And I would know: I'm the Goddess of Idiots. You're under my domain, bitch."

An amused smile graced their lips, having quietly watched him for a while in the hiding spot they've discovered months. Now, they knew from Nilay that the former Amethyst keyboarder was going through a rough patch. Granted, they didn't know what that all entailed or why—though, Hero has spotted a few of the other former Amethyst band members popping up like daisies. For a moment there, they also wondered if Harrison himself would soon pop up like a daisy. Then they realized Elijah might swat at them for having such a thought.

Oh well! They knew when to keep their mouth shut. Sometimes. Moving out of their spot and sipping the mango Jarrito they got at Dreamland, they plopped up on top of Eli's desk. Raising an eyebrow up at him. "What's up, doc? According to your wifey, you're having a wee bit of a rough-a-roo time. She wouldn't explain what it was, rudely enough. But care to tell ol' Hero all about it? I promise I'll behave!"

🦄​🇼​​🇭​​🇴​⦂ @elijahfalvey

🦄​🇼​​🇭​​🇪​​🇷​​🇪​⦂ ​🇲​​🇴​​🇷​​🇪​​🇲​​🇺​​🇸​​🇮​​🇨​ ​🇸​​🇹​​🇺​​🇩​​🇮​​🇴​ ⨾ ​🇨​​🇦​​🇷​​🇩​​🇮​​🇳​​🇦​​🇱​ ​🇭​​🇮​​🇱​​🇱​

🦄​🇼​​🇭​​🇪​​🇳​⦂ ​🇦​​🇺​​🇬​​🇺​​🇸​​🇹​ 1️⃣1️⃣​🇹​​🇭​, 2️⃣0️⃣2️⃣4️⃣

[tonibeltran]

x. status -> closed for @elijahfalvey x. location -> o'shea's

Most of Antonio’s natural instincts are usually dulled by the fifth drink — you’d think this would render him useless when it comes to picking up signals, but there’s something to be said for how quickly the body can adapt to anything, if you let it. There’s a tall, dark man across the bar who’s been making eyes at him since he’d settled in his seat, seemingly biding his time. Antonio’s been in no rush — he’d needed a certain number of drinks to settle the parts of him he tucks away where no one looks, drowned beneath a liquor-fueled stupor and the fog of weed-soaked oxygen. In this way, he can hide whatever unpleasantness stirs within him, and instead allow the substances in his body to take over like muscle memory. Smile, laugh, converse. Kiss, push, fuck.

He’s finished the last drink that’ll surely do the trick when he stands, eyes still on the tall, dark man across the bar. The other seems to shift in his seat, an anticipatory look on his face. Antonio doesn’t think that he’d maybe do well to look at where he’s going until it’s too late and he’s accidentally shoulder checking a taller man who happens to be walking past him. The bar is not so crowded that the physical contact was unpreventable — he supposes the other man hadn’t been looking, either. Still, he is ready to end it with a muttered, “Ah, shit.”

Because politeness is inherent within him, he raises his gaze to meet the other man’s with the intention of apologizing quickly and being on his way. What he doesn’t expect, however, are the familiar brown eyes that look back at him, a shade darker than he’s used to seeing them in his dreams. Were his blood not mostly alcohol, Antonio’s sure it’d freeze where it’s running through his veins at the sight of Elijah Falvey standing not two feet away from him after years and years (and what, admittedly, feels like many more years) of his absence.

Whatever anger may have bubbled to the surface on a normal day is quelled by the cover of a substance cocktail. It works like a barrier between what he should feel and what he’s allowing himself to feel, and even so, a small part of him thinks the ground beneath his feet has shifted somewhat. He feels uneven, in a way he doesn’t particularly like, and something like longing is crawling beneath his skin in a desperate attempt to claw its way out. The consecutive, unwelcome memories that overlap each other in less than a second — Elijah’s smile, his laugh, his quiet concentration, the furrow of his brows, the softness of his touch — are harder to put down this time than any of the others, but he manages it through an impressive feat of determination and sheer, dominating will. 

So he puts on his laziest smile, allows the foreign matter in his body to lead his shoulders toward a slump, his uncaring, unfazed facade a perfectly practiced maneuver presented in the most unassuming manner. He nods at Elijah, as if he were greeting an old acquaintance he’d rarely ever spoken to, and says, “Oh, hey.” His smile turns a little crooked. “That’s my bad. Didn’t see you there.”

[jacklynchh]

➥ location: community center

➥ status: closed for @elijahfalvey

The door of the center was a shabby black thing, aged terribly by years of use and a lack of funding, nothing special. Even so, it seemed to loom towards Jack with a kind of ominous majesty. The longer he stared at it the more dreadful the prospect of pushing his way inside became.

The support group had been his dad's idea. Jack only agreed to do it stave off the threats of his parents coming up to Blue Harbor themselves to check on him. After he'd thought about it a while it didn't seem like such a terrible idea, but now...

Any second the meeting would start and he knew if he didn't go in now he never would. He still didn't move. A moment later footsteps startled him from his thoughts and he turned to find another man heading up the steps. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he shuffled to the side muttering an apology for blocking the way. And then, in an attempt to be slightly braver, he asked, “Hey do you, uh, do you know if this is the right place for the grief group?”

[theromandaniels]

> Blue Violet Blooms. For @elijahfalvey

The language of flowers was often confusing. The meanings were usually a double-edged sword depending on the context given, and though no one really seemed to care for the deeper symbolism these days (much like how music was only relevant if it could trend on TikTok), there was an irrational part of Roman that feared for if he got it wrong.

Though who would judge flowers left at a tombstone? The man who's name was engraved on the marble?

Roman doubted Harrison — even with all of his musical genius and ability to pluck beautiful, tearjerking verse out of thin air — could even tell the difference between roses and gardenias, at a push. So it shouldn't matter, really. It was just a gesture. A gesture of love-lost, of grieving the past that slipped through the fingers, the loss of a bright future. The grief that sat in Roman's ribcage every waking moment of his present.

It was as if the universe knew what his intentions were for today; to pay condolences for a friend before the actual anniversary lest there was a crowd. He turned to look for someone to help when his green eyes locked on Elijah's brown.

"Not fucking today." He wasn't even aware he muttered it aloud until he heard his own voice reverberate around the flower shop.

[hvneymelons]

Closed Starter: @elijahfalvey at MoreMusic Studio

After a pretty eventful morning, Juno decided to make a trip over to Tres Amigos and grab lunch for Elijah and themself. Nothing too grand, some chicken fajita’s they ordered before leaving work then make a pit stop at the corner store for some water bottles and juice. They had failed to ask him ahead of time if he wanted something, but with how busy he had been they figured he wouldn’t mind. It wasn’t as if he had brought anything to eat that day anyways. Not a very unusual thing for the older male. Juno also hadn’t bothered to get anything for lunch even as they expected the morning to be quite cramped.  Walking back into the building, Juno made a direct line to his office - food in hand - and placed it before him. “You need to take a moment and eat.” they instructed, walking over to their own section of the office and rolling their chair to his desk. They could have taken a seat in one of the regular office chairs, but Juno was rather proud of their personal one. Something that wasn’t in any way provided by their parents who refused to allow Juno to have expenses of their own. To this day, despite their age, they found comfort in paying for their bills. Home, car, insurance, the list was endless but Juno figured it was the least they could do after the world of trouble they put them through. “Either plate, it doesn’t matter. I’m taking the liberty of eating here, if that is alright with you.”