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Mike Driver

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@slushysturniolo
brooke. adult. chris' universe.
artifacts. before you enter. tag list. alternate universes. anons.pinterest.
inbox ﹕ open ﹒﹒ requests ﹕ closed
brought to life ﹒﹒ 2025

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
https://www.tumblr.com/slushysturniolo/823971488369639424/do-u-have-any-fav-beauty-hacksproducts-or-even?source=share
oh I just KNOW you're a baddieeeeee
you have me blushing stopppppppp 🤭
starting to think Chris feels the same way about miles that I do with that bitch miranda . . .
😭😭😭
he might even hate miles more
NEW THEME????????? 😍😍😍
YESSSSS 🤭🤭🤭🤭
i love when mother posts. i feel renewed
little ol’ me?!

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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dbf!chris x americana! reader is chefs kiss. your writing is high quality, easy to follow, and your original plots are interesting and exciting!!! keep up the amazing work, and i look forward to the next part :D
thank you so much! this means the absolute world to me 🤍
I’m waitingggggg hehe
just posted 🤭🤭🤭
new dbf!chris x americana!reader here
taglist: @bernwentonio @swiftafboi @angel-sturn1 @calumhooddilf @icravechratt @lavande3 @ellyceinpieces @ariestrxsh @harringtonsgirl19 @brightonondih @rithiisbetter @bittenbymatt @dailydoseofchratt @chrissfavhoe @ribbonlovergirl @stupidfairygr @jasminsturniolo27 @sofiathe1stsblog @eclipse-matt @nbhdmatt @malcomtoddsn1gf @rainyyy-weather @brunettedotcom @cherriesformatt @twylas114 @writtenbychrissturniolo @wildessofa @sleepinourtears @fadedstvrn @stevesangelbabyyy @urfavvbilliemunch @2muchofaslvt @twylas114 @lia-the-lalabug-ver2 @jxzlynskisses
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𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚑
⁀➴ 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚋𝚏!𝚌𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜 𝚡 𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚊!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
⁀➴ 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜
⁀➴𝚌𝚠: 𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚙, 𝚖𝚍𝚗𝚒
Something you learned early on from your mom was to keep your finances separate.
“You never know when you’ll need to pick up and leave. I love your father, but I won’t risk it all for him.”
That always stuck with you.
It wasn’t like you were ever in a situation with a man where you were talking about bank accounts.
But you knew.
Always have a separate one.
You weren’t going to allow yourself to drown beneath your comforter, with the only company being the crumbs from the chips you’d eaten or whatever reality show happened to be on that day. That would’ve gone against everything you were.
You were strong-willed. Resilient. Independent.
But instead, you found your arm snaking out from beneath the blankets, your mind almost willing it to stretch farther.
Far enough to reach the basement.
Far enough to reach the scrapbooks your mom kept.
You wanted to see him again.
His smile.
The way his eyes creased when he laughed.
You found yourself getting angry.
Angry at him.
Especially angry at yourself.
You hadn’t felt this kind of catastrophic heartbreak since you were a teenager. Back then, everything felt like life or death. Your heart would pound so hard you swore it was going to beat out of your chest. Your vision would blur.
It was dramatic.
Visceral.
You felt ridiculous for it.
You weren’t even dating Chris.
But God…
He had felt like a safe place.
Like home.
Maybe you were lucky to feel something this deeply again.
Maybe, you thought, you should thank Chris for that.
For reminding you that you were alive.
Alive.
Alive in Richmond, Virginia.
Alive and young and able.
You hadn’t spoken to Chris in over a week. He didn’t come around the house, didn’t come over for dinner anymore, or offer to help your dad with projects around the house. If your dad saw him, it was because your dad went to him.
It was clear to you that Chris had made his choice. You’d overhear your dad telling your mom how torn up Chris was over Marissa. It made you sick.
You knew you didn’t deserve to feel this way. Marissa didn’t deserve the white-hot heat that spread through your chest every time her name was mentioned. Of course Chris would pick her over you.
He almost married her.
You had a choice, too, though. You didn’t have to live in the shadows of a woman you didn’t know. You didn’t have to feel like a young, stupid girl.
You weren’t one.
You knew that.
You refused to forget it.
The Virginia sun feels good on your back.
Warm.
Increasingly familiar.
Maybe it wasn’t Chris who made the sun feel so good.
Maybe the sun shone the same no matter what.
Maymont Park was a place Chris had mentioned once. He’d said he’d take you there someday. It had been in passing, but you’d remembered. You’d looked it up that night when you got home and spent far too long scrolling through pictures of gardens and walking trails.
You’d been excited to see it with him.
It’s different now.
It was much bigger than you’d imagined, and he hadn’t been lying.
It was beautiful.
You make yourself at home on a grassy little spot underneath a tree.
Home.
This was home now.
Your home.
You watch a father on the phone talking to his daughter. You can tell he hasn’t seen her in a while.
Maybe she’s away at college.
Maybe she moved away and started a family of her own.
A woman sits on a bench throwing breadcrumbs to pigeons, despite the signs that clearly say:
DO NOT FEED ANIMALS.
She doesn’t care.
You admire that.
A girl sits alone on a blanket like you. Headphones over her ears, a tattered copy of Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus resting in her lap.
That makes you laugh.
You wonder if she’s here for the same reason you are.
Maybe she’s trying to find herself again, too.
Maybe you’re both just doing the best you can.
Chris holds his phone in one hand, one eye still closed against the morning sun spilling through the curtains.
“How long can hangovers actually last?”
He knows the answer.
He knows hangovers don’t last an entire week, no matter how old you are. But he can’t shake the feeling. The looming dread. The shaky hands. The upset stomach that won’t go away, no matter how much antacid he chews.
He could admit something to himself.
Look at it head-on.
Stop looking at it from the corner of his eye.
He missed you.
Chris still had all the same things.
The same truck.
The same fishing boat.
The same booth at the diner.
But something was different.
Off.
You weren’t in the passenger seat anymore, talking entirely too loud even though you were sitting right beside him.
He wasn’t wiping mud off your legs after you’d wiped out because he’d forgotten to check the weather.
You’d laughed so hard that day your stomach hurt.
Then you spent the rest of the drive making fun of him for not checking the forecast.
You weren’t ordering a milkshake and fries, trying to convince him to dip them together.
Chris knows he’s not lonely. Not technically.
He knows practically the entire town. He could call up just about any buddy of his to go fishing or head down to the lake with a cigar and a beer.
But it had been nice having you.
He hadn’t really let anyone in like that.
Not in a long time.
Chris knows this was for the best.
That phrase repeated over and over until he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to form any other words.
This was for the best.
It was.
Nothing about the situation had been ideal. Falling for his best friend’s daughter, a woman fifteen years younger than him.
He owed your dad more than he could ever repay. He wasn’t sure he would’ve survived Marissa leaving if it hadn’t been for him.
He did the right thing.
He was doing the right thing.
But one word kept creeping back into his head.
“Okay.”
You hadn’t cried.
You hadn’t argued.
Your face didn’t even change.
You’d just said…
“Okay.”
You’d said it like it didn’t cost you anything.
Like you didn’t care that he was ending whatever this was.
That had to be it.
Of course you didn’t.
You were young.
Beautiful.
You lit up every single room you walked into.
You had so much more life to live.
So much more to offer.
Of course.
A loud knock at the door startles Chris.
He’d promised your dad he’d help him change the oil in his truck. Your dad’s back had been bothering him lately. He couldn’t bend the way he used to.
Chris might’ve been miserable, but he wasn’t about to leave a friend hanging.
He lets out a humorless laugh as he pushes himself off the couch.
Wouldn’t leave a friend hanging…
But he’d kissed his daughter.
He catches his reflection in the hallway mirror.
He looks tired.
Hopefully, that’s all anyone else sees.
Hopefully, no one can tell you’ve been the thing keeping him awake.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Chris!”
“Hey, man.” Chris’s smile is tight.
Unconvincing.
“Truck’s by the garage.” Your dad jerks his head toward the driveway. “‘Preciate you doin’ this for me.”
Chris follows him outside. “‘Course. You know I never mind helpin’ an old man out.”
“Watch it.” Your dad laughs. “You’re gettin’ up there too.”
Chris smirks, rolling his eyes as he starts laying out his tools.
“Haven’t seen ya around in a while, Chris.”
Chris slides the oil pan beneath the truck and loosens the drain plug with his wrench.
“Yeah…”
He clears his throat.
“Been busy.”
“Saw you leave with Marissa after the wedding. Not sayin’ it’s my business, man… I just…”
He shrugs.
“I don’t know. You haven’t been actin’ right.”
An easy way out.
Marissa.
Not…
I kissed your daughter.
But…
Marissa.
Chris slides out from under the truck.
“Yeah… uh…”
He rubs the back of his neck.
“Kinda shocked me.”
Another pause.
“I’m alright.”
Your dad studies him for a long moment.
“You sure, Chris?”
“Yeah, man.”
Your dad claps Chris on the shoulder, looking relieved.
“Glad to hear it.”
Chris goes back to work beneath the truck, checking the oil filter before reaching for the fresh oil. He hopes your dad doesn’t notice the way his hands shake.
Or how he can’t seem to look him in the eye.
“My kid’s doin’ good, too.”
Chris’s wrench stills for half a second.
“Yeah?”
“Mm-hm.” Your dad smiles. “She’s finally gettin’ out there. Meetin’ people. Seems a lot happier than when she first moved.”
Chris nods.
“That’s good.”
“Think you helped with that, honestly.”
Chris’s stomach turns.
Your dad's hands should be around his neck.
He shouldn’t be here thanking him.
“She, uh… she seein’ anybody?”
Chris can’t help himself.
“Oh, you know…” He chuckles. “I don’t get involved with any of that stuff.”
He wipes his hands on an old rag.
“Can’t think about that shit. She’s still my little girl.”
His little girl.
The quiet settles back in as your dad’s truck disappears down the driveway.
He should be able to breathe now.
Everything was working itself out.
Right?
Your dad didn’t suspect a thing.
You’re happy.
You’re exploring the town he first introduced you to.
You’re happy.
You’re happy without him.
Of course you are.
Of course.
You had to be.
…Right?
Chris listens to your dad tell a story he’s heard a hundred times while he flips burgers.
The sky is clear today.
Impossibly blue.
His neighbor throws this picnic every year and invites practically the entire neighborhood. It’s not like Chris could’ve skipped it. He lived a few houses down.
Someone would’ve knocked on his door.
Someone always needed help with the grill.
He listens as people shout their orders at him.
“Cheese!”
“No cheese!”
“Y’all got any Beyond burgers?”
Chris blinks.
“The fuck’s a Beyond burger?”
A few people laugh.
Chris adjusts his baseball cap, scratching at his scalp as sweat trickles down his temples.
He’d asked your dad where you were.
Your dad had shrugged.
Don’t know if she’s comin’.
Chris had wanted to say…
Well, you have to know because my sanity depends on it.
Instead…
He’d just nodded.
Chris can finally feel his shoulders begin to relax.
He feels his feet on the ground again.
Then he hears you laugh.
Bright.
Loud.
Free.
His head turns before he even realizes he’s looking for you.
He spots you immediately.
Of course he does.
Of course.
You’re making your way toward him.
No.
Probably your dad.
Your dad was standing right beside him.
A smile spreads across his face before he can stop it.
There you are.
Chris’s smile disappears almost immediately.
A man falls into step beside you, reaching for the cooler you’re carrying.
No.
Not a man.
A boy.
His head turns toward your dad.
“Who’s this?”
“Oh yeah,” your dad says with a shrug. “She mentioned maybe bringin’ a friend if she stopped by.”
Chris feels like his stomach drops.
“Hey, Dad!” You lean in to hug your dad before meeting Chris's eyes. “Chris,” He watches you give him a polite nod like you’re strangers. “Uh, this is Miles. Figured one more person here wouldn’t hurt.”
Miles extends a hand toward your dad before offering Chris the same polite smile.
“Nice to meet you, sir.”
“Good to meet ya, son.” Your dad gives Miles a rough shake.
“Seems a little early for ‘son,’” Chris mumbles.
Everyone looks at him.
Chris clears his throat.
“Uh…”
He rubs the back of his neck.
“Hungry? I could throw somethin’ on the grill.”
“Oh, no.” You wave him off with a smile. “We’re good. We already ate.”
Already ate.
A date.
“Alright, well, we’re gonna go find a table.”
Chris watches as Miles leads you toward a picnic table beneath one of the big oak trees.
You’re still carrying that damn cooler.
He turns back to the grill.
He thinks he’s sweating even worse now.
“So…” Chris flips a burger. “You know this Miles character?”
“Nah.” Your dad shakes his head. “The kid’s mentioned him once or twice, but that’s about all I know.”
“Hm.” Chris nods, trying to sound casual. “So… this is new then?”
“Must be.” Your dad reaches over and steals a hot dog off the grill. “Gotta hit the bathroom.”
Chris watches him disappear before turning another burger.
His eyes drift back to you anyway.
At that table.
With that boy.
Miles was clean-cut.
Well-dressed.
Baby-faced.
Chris knew he was attractive, too.
But it wasn’t about that.
It was the way his knees ached when he climbed out of bed some mornings.
The reading glasses sitting in the center console of his truck.
The gray hair he swore multiplied every time he looked in the mirror.
This was good.
This was the right choice.
Miles could keep up with you.
Miles was your age.
Miles wasn’t your dad’s best friend.
It made sense.
This was the right choice.
Miles was sweet.
You’d only met him a couple of days ago on some dating app, trying to get yourself back out there.
You figured there wasn’t a safer place for a first date than surrounded by half the town.
You didn’t completely trust men.
Not yet.
Miles hadn’t questioned it.
You appreciated that.
You allowed yourself to pretend to be surprised when you walked in and saw Chris standing by the grill in his khaki shorts, baseball cap, and those fucking white sneakers.
Of course Chris would be there.
Of course he would.
You could admit something to yourself.
Maybe…
Maybe a small part of you had wanted him to see you with someone else.
To show him you weren’t just some soft girl waiting around for him.
You could move on, too.
You watch Miles’s mouth move, but you aren’t really hearing him.
Your eyes keep drifting back to Chris at the grill.
Those stupid white sneakers.
You tear your gaze away every time it wanders.
It’s hard to keep it on Miles.
“So, yeah, I grew up with three sisters.”
You should probably say something.
“Oh.” You clear your throat. “I’m an only child. It’s been all about me since I can remember.”
Miles laughs.
He keeps talking as the sun beats down on your back, but you can’t focus.
You don’t want to be rude.
You like Miles.
He was sweet.
Your eyes drift back to him.
He’s looking at you like he expects you to laugh.
So you do.
Maybe a little louder than you normally would.
Maybe you glance over his shoulder to see if Chris heard.
“Food’s ready!” your dad hollers.
“I’m actually gonna grab something.” You stand from the picnic table. “I’m hungrier than I thought.”
Miles follows behind you.
Chris is handing out everyone’s food with that smile.
That smile is too big.
“Change your mind?” His eyebrows raise.
“Uh, yeah, I’m a little hungry.”
“Ain’t feedin’ her enough, Mike?”
“Chris, it’s Miles–”
“Right.”
Miles laughs and shakes his head. “Guilty.”
“Cheeseburger, right? No ketchup, just mustard, yeah?”
“Uh… yeah.”
You don’t remember telling him that.
A hand reaches into your line of sight, holding a paper plate toward Chris.
A delicate wrist.
A thin gold bracelet.
“Hot dog, please.”
Your eyes follow the arm upward.
And you swear the color drains from your face.
Red.
“How is it I haven’t seen you in years, and now you’re everywhere, Marissa?”
Chris’s lips twitch into a smile.
Your stomach drops.
Suddenly…
You aren’t hungry anymore.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Marissa smiles. “You could consider yourself lucky.”
Her voice is mature.
Sultry.
Effortless.
She sounds sure of herself.
She sounds like the kind of woman who wouldn’t bring a first date to a neighborhood picnic hoping to make a man jealous.
“Lucky,” Chris laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah… that’s one way of lookin’ at it.”
He drops the hot dog onto Marissa’s plate.
Then he winks.
You turn so quickly you’re surprised your burger doesn’t slide right off your plate.
There it was.
The reminder.
You hate that you can still see them talking.
You hate that your mom and dad slip so easily into conversation with her, standing beside Chris like no time has passed at all.
And you hate…
That she seems nice.
Personable.
Easy to talk to.
Like she’d always belonged there.
“Everything okay?” Miles asks around a mouthful of food.
“Yup.”
You pick at your burger.
For so long, this was what Chris thought he wanted.
Your parents.
Marissa.
Everyone back in the same place.
Where he thought they belonged.
But every conversation around him sounded muffled now.
He had to keep dragging himself back into them, piecing together what people were saying from the last few words he’d managed to catch.
Seeing Marissa again had brought back memories.
A lot of them.
It had shaken him.
But now…
He couldn’t have cared less.
He knows he’s over Marissa.
He’d known it that night at the wedding.
He almost feels bad thinking it.
But he wishes she’d stop talking.
Because you look upset.
Across the yard, you were picking apart your burger.
You’d barely said two words to Miles in the last few minutes.
Chris frowns.
Why weren’t you eating?
“Who wants to play cornhole?” Someone shouts from the yard.
Chris doesn’t know who says it.
Doesn’t care who did.
He’s just thankful that people are starting to clear out.
Maybe he’ll get a chance to clear his head.
Your parents excuse themselves to play, but Marissa stays behind.
“You not playin’?”
“No, don’t really feel like it tonight.” Marissa sighs, flopping down in a seat near the grill.
Chris decides to sit, too. Too tired to play.
He watches you and Miles make your way toward the grass.
Miles’s hand settles at the small of your back.
Guiding you.
Like you couldn’t find the yard that was ten feet in front of you.
Marissa glances across the lawn.
"Is that his daughter?" She gestures toward your dad before nodding in your direction.
"Uh..."
Chris scratches at his stubble.
“Yeah. That’s his kid.”
“She’s a pretty girl.” Marissa takes a sip of her beer.
Chris clears his throat.
He doesn’t know how to respond.
What would be an appropriate response to that?
“Yeah… she’s uh… she’s a good kid.”
Chris’ attention drifts back toward the lawn.
Toward you.
Marissa follows his gaze and then looks back at him.
“You okay, Chris?”
“‘Yeah, ‘m fine.” Chris’s eyes meet Marissa’s again.
“Hm.”
Marissa stands up from the lawn chair and pats his shoulder.
She smiles.
“Sure, Chris.”
Marissa wanders off toward the house, and Chris lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and rubs a hand over his face.
“Shit, I got a flat.”
Chris’ eyes drift up, and of course, it’s your car.
Of course it’s you.
Of course.
He doesn’t have to get up and help.
Miles can do it.
He’s with you now.
Sit down.
“Fuck,” You stand there, cooler in your hand, and Miles at your side. “Swear to god, I’m like always have issues with this car.” You bend down, to inspect the tire. “Yeah, there’s no way I’m even getting home on that.”
Your dad walks over now. “God kid, I swear you drive the shit outta this car. Gotta be a spare in here,” he grunts as he opens up the trunk, pulling out the donut.
“Miles, you mind changing this? I would, but I've been having trouble with my back.” Your dad says.
“Actually, I don’t know how to change a tire.” Miles shrugs.
Chris is walking over before he can stop himself.
Cursing himself with every single step.
“You don’t know how to change a tire?” Chris scoffs suddenly behind Miles.
“I usually just call roadside.”
“Roadside.”
“Yeah.”
“You call roadside for a flat tire?”
Miles shrugs.
“Shouldn’t be takin’ her anywhere if you can’t get her home.” Chris bends down and gestures at your dad for the donut and the jack.
“I’ll just take this opportunity to learn.” Miles laughs lightly, clearly embarrassed.
“Nothin’ funny here, bud.”
“Chris.” You say through gritted teeth.
“Alright, let’s cut the guy some slack.” Your dad shifts awkwardly.
Chris changes the tire in silence.
The air feels different.
Nobody seems able to put their finger on why.
Chris stands up, brushing his hands off on his jeans, and his eyes meet yours.
You’re standing there.
Holding the cooler.
“Give me the cooler.” He gestures to you.
“What?”
“The cooler.”
“I’ve got it, Chris.”
Chris doesn’t answer.
He simply takes the cooler from your hands.
“Nice to meet ya, Mike,” he says before walking off.
Silence.
Nobody speaks.
“Thought your name was Miles?” Your dad turns his head towards Miles.
“It is…” Miles squeaks, arms around the cooler, not as confident as before.
Chris walks back toward the picnic, dragging a hand over his face.
What the fuck was that?
Chris tosses his keys onto the kitchen counter before making his way to the sink.
He scrubs the grease from his hands, staring at the water as it disappears down the drain.
He was being reckless.
Acting recklessly.
But what was he supposed to do?
He couldn’t just stand there pretending it was alright that Mike—
Miles.
Whatever his name was.
Didn’t know how to change a tire.
What if it happened in the middle of the night?
What if you were alone?
He needed to know you’d be safe.
That you were with someone who could take care of you.
That was all this was.
Making sure you were safe.
Maybe he had crossed a line, but he couldn’t help it.
It was like he was making decisions before even thinking.
He’d been doing it for weeks.
Getting jealous over some random guy.
Causing a scene at a neighborhood picnic.
Kissing you.
Falling for you.
Fuck.
He was falling for you.
Chris looks over at his phone lying on his kitchen counter.
He wipes his hands on his dish towel.
He picks it up.
Puts it down.
Picks it up again.
He presses your name.
Miles seemed visibly embarrassed on the ride home.
And you were fuming.
Confused by Chris’s behavior.
Then…
Miles asked,
“So… was that your uncle or something?”
Which somehow pissed you off even more.
Your uncle?
That wouldn’t even make sense.
Was this guy really looking at Chris and thinking he could be your uncle?
And he didn’t know how to change a tire.
Maybe you were looking for a reason not to like him.
Or maybe you were just angry.
Maybe being sweet wasn't enough.
If you decided you weren’t interested in Miles…
That was your decision.
Chris had absolutely nothing to do with it.
Right?
You flop backward onto your bed.
Your phone buzzes beneath your pillow.
Probably Miles.
You reach underneath it and pull your phone free.
You have to read the screen twice.
Christopher.
You shouldn’t answer.
You watch it ring.
Once.
Twice.
“… Hello?”
𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎… i don't know why this part was so incredibly hard for me to write so i really hope u guys find it fulfilling enough !! so interested in who we hate more... marissa or miles? 🤨 also, wanted to mention that i am training a new provider within my long stretch at work for the upcoming week. so there is a chance i won't be able to update as frequently!
okay soooo i just lost the entire next part of dbf!chris x americana!reader on google docs and THANK GOD i had just drafted it into my tumblr drafts because i genuinely think i would’ve snapped my laptop in HALF.
sorry i’m uploading so late tonight 😭 that literally scared the shit out of me but we’re good now so i’m posting now!!! before i lose this shit again omg
Now this may sound like a “duh” response so I’m sorry in advance ! But I find something that helps me with meals is meal prepping! Like one day at the beginning make a bag of rice, or pasta, or some thing like that you can eat off for dinner the rest of the week and then that’s already one - 2 meals taken care of each day (2 if you eat it for lunch aswel but I usually don’t) and I’m not really a big breakfast person so that limits it to one meal a day I actually have to think about. Again, it’s not a one size fits all solution but it works for me soooo yeah ! And if you get tired of eating the same few things I tend to save like multiple really quick recipes that require the same few ingredients so I can whip something up in ten minutes. :)) but obviously there’s nothing wrong with a tv dinner ! I luv them 😋
meal prepping absolutely does help and i know i need to be doing it, but my taurus rising really comes out and i get sooooo lazy 🤕 which is honestly ridiculous, so maybe i need to give it another try!!
thank u mama 🤍
do u have any fav beauty hacks/products or even life style changes that changed ur life 😋
hello yes! i have a few!

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https://www.tumblr.com/slushysturniolo/823966630015123456/its-so-crazy-how-cooking-a-meal-instead-of-eating
what did you make mami?
i made steak bowls with yellow rice, onions, and peppers with guacamole salsa and valentina hot sauce :)
I lovr your new theme omg!!! 🍃🌿💚
and i love you!!!!!!!
thank u baby!