Quadrinho com IA: It all started when Lily, armed with a tote bag full of overpriced vintage vinyls and a mission to avoid all human interaction, walked into her favorite bookstore café. After downing a matcha latte that tasted suspiciously like disappointment, she excused herself to the restroom. Now here’s where fate decided to spice things up. As she pushed open the door to leave the women's restroom, she collided hard with someone coming in. Books flew. Her phone did a triple somersault and landed in the sink like it was diving for gold. And standing in the doorway, looking like he had just stepped into the wrong dimension, was a guy — wide-eyed, holding a half-eaten croissant like a peace offering. “OH MY GOD—this isn’t the men’s room, is it?” he asked, horrified. Lily blinked. “Unless you’re here to compliment my eyeliner or discuss cramps, you might be a little off course.” He looked behind him at the pink flower decal on the door. “I thought that was just... artsy gender neutrality.” Lily raised an eyebrow. “So you thought the sign with high heels and the cursive ‘Ladies’ was just…vintage decor?” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “In my defense, I was mid-bite and very emotionally committed to finding a bathroom. That croissant had jalapeños in it. Regret hit fast.” Lily tried not to laugh but failed miserably. “You spicy-sprinted into the women’s restroom?” “Technically, yes. Spiritually, no. My soul still hasn’t caught up.” She chuckled, picking up her phone and shaking it dry. “Well, I suppose it’s not every day a man crashes into me wielding a rogue pastry.” He smiled, suddenly confident in the kind of way that says he knows he just became the story she’ll tell her friends later. “I’m Ethan, by the way. Accidental restroom invader, croissant enthusiast.” “Lily. Victim of restroom crash. Not a fan of jalapeños.” They stood there for a moment, the door slowly swinging closed behind them like a theatrical curtain. “So... how do we recover from this?” he asked. “Well,” she said thoughtfully, “either we never speak of this again… or you give me your Instagram so I can immortalize this moment with a meme.” He grinned. “Deal. But only if I get to post a drawing of a croissant holding a ‘Sorry’ sign.” She took his phone, typed in her handle, and handed it back. “There. Now go find the real men’s room before karma makes it worse.” As he walked away, still chuckling and mumbling something about jalapeños and fate, Lily opened Instagram and saw a notification: Ethan_TheSpicyCroissant has followed you. Caption: “Met a girl. Crashed into her. Didn’t get sued. 10/10 would do again.”

Criado por snuggly unicorn

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snuggly unicorn

snuggly unicorn

It all started when Lily, armed with a tote bag full of overpriced vintage vinyls and a mission to avoid all human interaction, walked into her favorite bookstore café. After downing a matcha latte that tasted suspiciously like disappointment, she excused herself to the restroom. Now here’s where fate decided to spice things up. As she pushed open the door to leave the women's restroom, she collided hard with someone coming in. Books flew. Her phone did a triple somersault and landed in the sink like it was diving for gold. And standing in the doorway, looking like he had just stepped into the wrong dimension, was a guy — wide-eyed, holding a half-eaten croissant like a peace offering. “OH MY GOD—this isn’t the men’s room, is it?” he asked, horrified. Lily blinked. “Unless you’re here to compliment my eyeliner or discuss cramps, you might be a little off course.” He looked behind him at the pink flower decal on the door. “I thought that was just... artsy gender neutrality.” Lily raised an eyebrow. “So you thought the sign with high heels and the cursive ‘Ladies’ was just…vintage decor?” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “In my defense, I was mid-bite and very emotionally committed to finding a bathroom. That croissant had jalapeños in it. Regret hit fast.” Lily tried not to laugh but failed miserably. “You spicy-sprinted into the women’s restroom?” “Technically, yes. Spiritually, no. My soul still hasn’t caught up.” She chuckled, picking up her phone and shaking it dry. “Well, I suppose it’s not every day a man crashes into me wielding a rogue pastry.” He smiled, suddenly confident in the kind of way that says he knows he just became the story she’ll tell her friends later. “I’m Ethan, by the way. Accidental restroom invader, croissant enthusiast.” “Lily. Victim of restroom crash. Not a fan of jalapeños.” They stood there for a moment, the door slowly swinging closed behind them like a theatrical curtain. “So... how do we recover from this?” he asked. “Well,” she said thoughtfully, “either we never speak of this again… or you give me your Instagram so I can immortalize this moment with a meme.” He grinned. “Deal. But only if I get to post a drawing of a croissant holding a ‘Sorry’ sign.” She took his phone, typed in her handle, and handed it back. “There. Now go find the real men’s room before karma makes it worse.” As he walked away, still chuckling and mumbling something about jalapeños and fate, Lily opened Instagram and saw a notification: Ethan_TheSpicyCroissant has followed you. Caption: “Met a girl. Crashed into her. Didn’t get sued. 10/10 would do again.”It all started when Lily, armed with a tote bag full of overpriced vintage vinyls and a mission to avoid all human interaction, walked into her favorite bookstore café. After downing a matcha latte that tasted suspiciously like disappointment, she excused herself to the restroom. Now here’s where fate decided to spice things up. As she pushed open the door to leave the women's restroom, she collided hard with someone coming in. Books flew. Her phone did a triple somersault and landed in the sink like it was diving for gold. And standing in the doorway, looking like he had just stepped into the wrong dimension, was a guy — wide-eyed, holding a half-eaten croissant like a peace offering. “OH MY GOD—this isn’t the men’s room, is it?” he asked, horrified. Lily blinked. “Unless you’re here to compliment my eyeliner or discuss cramps, you might be a little off course.” He looked behind him at the pink flower decal on the door. “I thought that was just... artsy gender neutrality.” Lily raised an eyebrow. “So you thought the sign with high heels and the cursive ‘Ladies’ was just…vintage decor?” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “In my defense, I was mid-bite and very emotionally committed to finding a bathroom. That croissant had jalapeños in it. Regret hit fast.” Lily tried not to laugh but failed miserably. “You spicy-sprinted into the women’s restroom?” “Technically, yes. Spiritually, no. My soul still hasn’t caught up.” She chuckled, picking up her phone and shaking it dry. “Well, I suppose it’s not every day a man crashes into me wielding a rogue pastry.” He smiled, suddenly confident in the kind of way that says he knows he just became the story she’ll tell her friends later. “I’m Ethan, by the way. Accidental restroom invader, croissant enthusiast.” “Lily. Victim of restroom crash. Not a fan of jalapeños.” They stood there for a moment, the door slowly swinging closed behind them like a theatrical curtain. “So... how do we recover from this?” he asked. “Well,” she said thoughtfully, “either we never speak of this again… or you give me your Instagram so I can immortalize this moment with a meme.” He grinned. “Deal. But only if I get to post a drawing of a croissant holding a ‘Sorry’ sign.” She took his phone, typed in her handle, and handed it back. “There. Now go find the real men’s room before karma makes it worse.” As he walked away, still chuckling and mumbling something about jalapeños and fate, Lily opened Instagram and saw a notification: Ethan_TheSpicyCroissant has followed you. Caption: “Met a girl. Crashed into her. Didn’t get sued. 10/10 would do again.”It all started when Lily, armed with a tote bag full of overpriced vintage vinyls and a mission to avoid all human interaction, walked into her favorite bookstore café. After downing a matcha latte that tasted suspiciously like disappointment, she excused herself to the restroom. Now here’s where fate decided to spice things up. As she pushed open the door to leave the women's restroom, she collided hard with someone coming in. Books flew. Her phone did a triple somersault and landed in the sink like it was diving for gold. And standing in the doorway, looking like he had just stepped into the wrong dimension, was a guy — wide-eyed, holding a half-eaten croissant like a peace offering. “OH MY GOD—this isn’t the men’s room, is it?” he asked, horrified. Lily blinked. “Unless you’re here to compliment my eyeliner or discuss cramps, you might be a little off course.” He looked behind him at the pink flower decal on the door. “I thought that was just... artsy gender neutrality.” Lily raised an eyebrow. “So you thought the sign with high heels and the cursive ‘Ladies’ was just…vintage decor?” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “In my defense, I was mid-bite and very emotionally committed to finding a bathroom. That croissant had jalapeños in it. Regret hit fast.” Lily tried not to laugh but failed miserably. “You spicy-sprinted into the women’s restroom?” “Technically, yes. Spiritually, no. My soul still hasn’t caught up.” She chuckled, picking up her phone and shaking it dry. “Well, I suppose it’s not every day a man crashes into me wielding a rogue pastry.” He smiled, suddenly confident in the kind of way that says he knows he just became the story she’ll tell her friends later. “I’m Ethan, by the way. Accidental restroom invader, croissant enthusiast.” “Lily. Victim of restroom crash. Not a fan of jalapeños.” They stood there for a moment, the door slowly swinging closed behind them like a theatrical curtain. “So... how do we recover from this?” he asked. “Well,” she said thoughtfully, “either we never speak of this again… or you give me your Instagram so I can immortalize this moment with a meme.” He grinned. “Deal. But only if I get to post a drawing of a croissant holding a ‘Sorry’ sign.” She took his phone, typed in her handle, and handed it back. “There. Now go find the real men’s room before karma makes it worse.” As he walked away, still chuckling and mumbling something about jalapeños and fate, Lily opened Instagram and saw a notification: Ethan_TheSpicyCroissant has followed you. Caption: “Met a girl. Crashed into her. Didn’t get sued. 10/10 would do again.”
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It all started when Lily, armed with a tote bag full of overpriced vintage vinyls and a mission to avoid all human interaction, walked into her favorite bookstore café. After downing a matcha latte that tasted suspiciously like disappointment, she excused herself to the restroom. Now here’s where fate decided to spice things up. As she pushed open the door to leave the women's restroom, she collided hard with someone coming in. Books flew. Her phone did a triple somersault and landed in the sink like it was diving for gold. And standing in the doorway, looking like he had just stepped into the wrong dimension, was a guy — wide-eyed, holding a half-eaten croissant like a peace offering. “OH MY GOD—this isn’t the men’s room, is it?” he asked, horrified. Lily blinked. “Unless you’re here to compliment my eyeliner or discuss cramps, you might be a little off course.” He looked behind him at the pink flower decal on the door. “I thought that was just... artsy gender neutrality.” Lily raised an eyebrow. “So you thought the sign with high heels and the cursive ‘Ladies’ was just…vintage decor?” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “In my defense, I was mid-bite and very emotionally committed to finding a bathroom. That croissant had jalapeños in it. Regret hit fast.” Lily tried not to laugh but failed miserably. “You spicy-sprinted into the women’s restroom?” “Technically, yes. Spiritually, no. My soul still hasn’t caught up.” She chuckled, picking up her phone and shaking it dry. “Well, I suppose it’s not every day a man crashes into me wielding a rogue pastry.” He smiled, suddenly confident in the kind of way that says he knows he just became the story she’ll tell her friends later. “I’m Ethan, by the way. Accidental restroom invader, croissant enthusiast.” “Lily. Victim of restroom crash. Not a fan of jalapeños.” They stood there for a moment, the door slowly swinging closed behind them like a theatrical curtain. “So... how do we recover from this?” he asked. “Well,” she said thoughtfully, “either we never speak of this again… or you give me your Instagram so I can immortalize this moment with a meme.” He grinned. “Deal. But only if I get to post a drawing of a croissant holding a ‘Sorry’ sign.” She took his phone, typed in her handle, and handed it back. “There. Now go find the real men’s room before karma makes it worse.” As he walked away, still chuckling and mumbling something about jalapeños and fate, Lily opened Instagram and saw a notification: Ethan_TheSpicyCroissant has followed you. Caption: “Met a girl. Crashed into her. Didn’t get sued. 10/10 would do again.”

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9 months ago

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