Ava Eassey > Recent Status Updates

“I find you so extremely beautiful, it hurts to look at you sometimes.”
“More beautiful than your ex-girlfriends?”
“I’ve never had a girlfriend and even if I had, they wouldn’t hold a candle to you.”

We practice and practice, and we master how to be what we are not.
Soon we forget who we really are, and we start to live our images. We create not just one image, but many different images according to the different groups of people we associate with.

The fear of not being good enough for someone else is what makes us try to change, what makes us create an image. Then we try to project that image according to what they want us to be, just to be accepted, just to have the reward. We learn to pretend to be what we are not, and we practice trying to be someone else, just to be good enough for Mom, for Dad.

When someone says “you are pushing my buttons” it is not exactly true. What is true is that you are touching a wound in his mind, and he reacts because it hurts.

Your experience of life is shaped by the story you tell yourself

Two people can live the same event and experience totally different realities

This is the time where people need this wisdom again, because modern suffering is largely mental and emotional, not physical.

Stress. Shame. Self-judgment. Fear.
These aren’t accidents. They’re learned beliefs.

Toltec wisdom is about unlearning them.

The Toltec were artists, healers, philosophers and spiritual teachers who’s focus was on the mastery of awareness, love and personal power.
- your thoughts, beliefs and actions create your reality
- you are not here to survive by default - you’re here to create consciously.

“Eli King,” he says in a tone that doesn’t betray the darkness in his eyes. “I see you’ve been keeping my wife company.”
“We met by coincidence.”
“I’m sure. She has a lot of coincidences in her life.”
“I hope I’m not intruding,” Vance says with his usual gentlemanly smile.
“You perfectly are,” Eli says without missing a beat.

ELI KING 😈😈

“Because I couldn’t care less about you or your glittery, entirely idealistic feelings. Turn around and remove your distasteful presence from my sight, and I’ll pretend I didn’t hear your embarrassing confessions”

Eli dick king. But also the fuck did Ava think was going to happen

For all intents and purposes, Ava is every man’s wet dream. She possesses a model’s face that somehow can also pass for an innocent girl next door. Rosebud lips in her favorite color—pink. Big, intrusive blue eyes that rival the North Sea’s depths and the sky’s hollowness during an eclipse. A body made for fucking. And an attitude that will get her killed—and almost has countless times.

🫠 ELI KING

"W-what?" I sound terrified to my ears.
"What's wrong?"
Eli's gaze that could rival Antarctica's frozen landscapes falls on me. "You turned twenty-three a few months ago and we've been married for over two years, Ava."

👹👹👹

"I need this entire thing to stop." I sound more determined than I feel. "I'm not married to that prick and I sure as hell am not Mrs. any-thing. I'm only twenty-one, for God's sake."

HERE WE GO

"What are you doing here, Eli?" My voice sounds low, husky, a bit odd, as if I've been screaming for days.
His eyes.
They grow in size for the first time in my life. They're a lighter shade of gray, so close to a cloudy summer's day.
"Say that again." He speaks slowly.
"What are you doing here, Eli?" Annoyance breaks through my voice and I have to swallow past the discomfort.

He curses under his breath and pushes something above my head as he strokes my face.
"Breathe, Ava. Fuck, come on, beautiful. Breathe."
I actually stop panicking for a second because what...? What's going on?
He called me 'beautiful' and he's touching me.
Eli never touches me.
The longer I stare at his eyes, the more my breathing slows. They're different. But how...?
Why...?
"That's it. Good girl."

His eyes exude a bottomless darkness, and their stormy gray color never rages or revolts. Never deviates from the coldness I faced the day he shattered my heart to pieces and stomped all over it.
“Turn around and remove your distasteful presence from my sight, and I’ll pretend I didn’t hear your embarrassing confessions.”

The cuffs are slightly rolled, revealing a Patek Philippe watch that’s so expensive, it could buy everyone in this club. I know because I bought that watch. Seven years ago, I begged Nana to take me to Switzerland, we met a retired watch master. Though Eli doesn’t know that tidbit. I made Aunt Elsa give it to him and swear to never tell him it was from me.

FINAL BOOK IN THIS SERIES 🥲

My brother stops at the door. “One more thing.” “Yeah?”
“Please tell me you top the motherfucker.”
I let my lips curve into a smile as I shake my head. Lan’s face falls and he looks like he’s on the verge of a heart attack. “Bloody fucking hell!” He throws the door open and then shouts, “Nikolai, you fucking wank, come here.”
HAHAHAHAHAHHAHHA

“I love you, little bro,” he whispers. “I need you to know that. I need you to know you’re the first person I loved unconditionally and always will. I might annoy you, might act like a dick to get your attention, but that’s only because the thought of losing you scares the living fuck out of me.”

This is why I love LAN

She screams so loud, Dad shows up at the doorway, but he doesn’t make a move. No, he just watches his son and his future son-in-law take the life of a woman and smiles. I smile, too, viciously, as I slam my palm against her mouth, just like she did when Bran begged her to stop.

Kyle Hunter is so hot.

“I’m not lowering my fucking voice. That’s my twin brother. My other half. You don’t get it, Dad. He…he’s my. Other. Half. And I couldn’t be there to stop him from trying to take his own fucking life. I couldn’t be there when it got to be too much. He pushed me away and I thought he hated me. All this time, I failed to realize he hates himself.”

“You…you saw…you saw…” My voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater as my vision blurs with moisture. “You saw…” And now you can’t look at me anymore.

“Bran—” His words are cut off when I snatch the piece of glass from his hand and jam it against my neck.

WHAT TJW FUCK

“Don’t, Nikolai. Don’t!” He speaks in a tone I’ve never heard before, all broken and full of panic before he whispers, “Please, I beg you, don’t see that part of me…”
I keep my eyes on his lost ones as I tug the watch free. Sure enough, there’s a Band-Aid around his wrist. “Please,” he begs again, his hand in mine trembling, curling, flexing, twisting away. “Please…”

“What are you doing here? Oh! Wanna join me?” “Why the fuck—” I cut myself off and speak in a calmer tone. “Why were you underwater?” “Meditating.”
“Meditating?”
“Yeah.” He grins. “I can hold my breath for over four minutes.”
“Let me get this straight. You meditate by holding your breath underwater?”
“Yup.“
“You’re seriously fucking mental.”
“Is that a good thing?”

Dad: “Call me as soon as possible, Bran. No matter how hard it is, I want you to remember that you have a family who loves you and would stand behind you no matter what. You’re not alone, son. Okay?”

BRAN 😭

I. Love. Nikolai.

“I’m going to snap, Dad. I can feel the pressure gathering and intensifying behind my eyes. Someone will touch or look at me the wrong way and I’ll fucking explode. How do I stop it?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t, Niko. Just fall into it, absorb the shock, and release some steam. You know how to do that the best, no?”

"Why, hello, Straight Brandon's dick. You look pretty gay to me." He strokes again, harsher this time, eliciting a shudder from me.

On a scale of straighter-than-straight Jer to fluid-as-lube Kill to confused-as-shit Gareth, I wonder where Brandon King falls. Not that I’m tempted to find out. That would be crazy.

JUST KIDDING. I am crazy. A week later, I’m lurking by the entrance of the Elites’ mansion at five thirty in the fucking morning.

On a scale of straighter-than-straight Jer to fluid-as-lube Kill to confused-as-shit Gareth, I wonder where Brandon King falls.