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@dmtx_oficial: Aprende esto y aplícalo 🔥🦾

Henry Alexander Odre
Henry Alexander Odre
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Region: EC
Wednesday 30 July 2025 00:39:07 GMT
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allgdhustlin
Novato$ CDL :
nice
2025-07-30 10:48:18
0
sakura66222
SAKURA🌸🏋🏻‍♀️🍑🦵🏼🖤🔥🐦‍🔥 :
Gracias la hago y te cuento si puedo caminar al siguiente día 😬🤣ya me a pasado que sigo rutinas de Tik Tok y al siguiente día no puedo caminar 🤣
2025-07-30 23:42:50
0
normaemoreno
Norma E Moreno :
😳😳😳
2025-07-31 20:43:45
0
lilianapineros
sandra :
🥰
2025-08-03 10:11:04
0
khala.caceres10
khalita la princesa canina🐶💫 :
bien ahí 💪
2025-08-12 13:34:46
0
elchinodepelo
Ricardo Vazmo🐲🇲🇽 :
En cual trabajan los Isquios?
2025-08-13 12:36:33
0
rolando.cuenca1
Rolando Cuenca :
Excelente
2025-08-14 12:47:40
0
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Lena had always possessed a strange relationship with her subconscious. Ever since she was young, her dreams were hyper-vivid, borderline cinematic sequences that lingered long after she woke. But last night was different. Last night wasn't just a bizarre sequence of events; it was a feeling. In the dream, there was a girl. A gorgeous, radiant girl with eyes that felt like coming home. They had spent what felt like lifetimes in that dreamscape—laughing under a sun that never set, their fingers tangled together, falling so deeply and undeniably in love. They had become a couple in the quiet, absolute way that only dream logic allows. But dreams, no matter how beautiful, have curfews. In the final moments of her sleep, they had been standing impossibly close, the space between them evaporating into nothing. The dream-version of the girl had looked up at her, eyes fluttering shut. Lena had leaned in, her heart hammering against her ribs as she felt the soft, warm ghost of the girl's breath against her lips. It was the perfect moment. And then— *BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.* The piercing shrill of her alarm clock violently dragged her back to reality. Lena woke up with a gasp and a profound sense of loss. She groaned, slamming her hand over her phone to kill the noise. The right side of her bed was empty and cold. Having the best kiss of her life stolen from her by a piece of plastic made her undeniably, exceptionally grumpy. Scowling her way through her morning routine, Lena grabbed her keys and headed straight for her sanctuary: a quiet, independent coffee shop tucked into a leafy corner of the city. The bell above the door chimed cheerfully—too cheerfully, in Lena's opinion. She ordered her usual dark roast, retreated to her favorite corner booth, and crossed her arms, staring out the window and mourning a girl who didn't exist. Then, the bell chimed again. Lena's eyes flicked toward the entrance, and the breath completely left her lungs. It was her. The girl from the dream. The exact same soft features, the same effortless grace. Lena’s heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She was real. But the bubble of awe burst a second later. The girl hadn't come alone. Trailing behind her was a man in a crisp shirt who already looked thoroughly unimpressed. He scowled at the handwritten menu boards and the mismatched vintage chairs, shifting his weight impatiently.
Lena had always possessed a strange relationship with her subconscious. Ever since she was young, her dreams were hyper-vivid, borderline cinematic sequences that lingered long after she woke. But last night was different. Last night wasn't just a bizarre sequence of events; it was a feeling. In the dream, there was a girl. A gorgeous, radiant girl with eyes that felt like coming home. They had spent what felt like lifetimes in that dreamscape—laughing under a sun that never set, their fingers tangled together, falling so deeply and undeniably in love. They had become a couple in the quiet, absolute way that only dream logic allows. But dreams, no matter how beautiful, have curfews. In the final moments of her sleep, they had been standing impossibly close, the space between them evaporating into nothing. The dream-version of the girl had looked up at her, eyes fluttering shut. Lena had leaned in, her heart hammering against her ribs as she felt the soft, warm ghost of the girl's breath against her lips. It was the perfect moment. And then— *BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.* The piercing shrill of her alarm clock violently dragged her back to reality. Lena woke up with a gasp and a profound sense of loss. She groaned, slamming her hand over her phone to kill the noise. The right side of her bed was empty and cold. Having the best kiss of her life stolen from her by a piece of plastic made her undeniably, exceptionally grumpy. Scowling her way through her morning routine, Lena grabbed her keys and headed straight for her sanctuary: a quiet, independent coffee shop tucked into a leafy corner of the city. The bell above the door chimed cheerfully—too cheerfully, in Lena's opinion. She ordered her usual dark roast, retreated to her favorite corner booth, and crossed her arms, staring out the window and mourning a girl who didn't exist. Then, the bell chimed again. Lena's eyes flicked toward the entrance, and the breath completely left her lungs. It was her. The girl from the dream. The exact same soft features, the same effortless grace. Lena’s heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She was real. But the bubble of awe burst a second later. The girl hadn't come alone. Trailing behind her was a man in a crisp shirt who already looked thoroughly unimpressed. He scowled at the handwritten menu boards and the mismatched vintage chairs, shifting his weight impatiently. "Can we just go to a proper franchise?" he complained loudly enough for the quiet room to hear. "This place looks like it takes twenty minutes just to pull a shot." The dream girl—the real girl—offered him a placating, tight smile. She murmured something soft, gently touching his arm, persuading him to stay. With a heavy, dramatic sigh, he relented, and they moved to take a seat in the center of the room. He immediately pulled out his phone, completely ignoring her. From her corner, Lena tried. She really tried not to stare. She picked up her phone, opened a random app, and pretended to scroll, but her eyes kept darting up. She couldn't help it; she was staring hard. Every time the girl shifted, every time she politely looked around while her companion ignored her, Lena felt a phantom echo of the dream. "Iced Americano for Khun Lena!" the barista suddenly called out. "And a Caramel Macchiato for Khun Miu!" At the sound of her name, Lena stood up. Across the room, the girl—Miu—stood up as well. They reached the pickup counter at the exact same moment. As they reached for their respective cups, Miu turned her head. Her eyes locked onto Lena's, and the polite smile vanished, replaced by a look of absolute shock. Her hand froze in mid-air. For a long, suspended second, neither of them moved. The ambient noise of the coffee shop seemed to fade into static. continuation in the comment section (2 parts) 👇👇👇 #lenamiu #miulena #oneshot #thaigl #wlwcouple

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