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@aestheticwith.emma: Double cleaning helps to thoroughly cleanse your skin, brighten your skin and improves efficacy of other skincare products 🌸✨ Products featured: P.Calm Underpore Holy Basil Cleansing Oil * Holy Basil, enriched with the potent plant compound Eugenol, offers antibacterial properties that revitalize the skin, promoting a healthier and more vibrant complexion. * Effectively removes stubborn blackheads. * Dissolve makeup, excess oil, and blackheads within a mere 5 seconds, P.CALM - UnderPore Foam Cleanser * Helps remove residue, sebum, appearance of blackheads and whiteheads, ideal for acne-prone skins. * Improves brightening effect and free of harmful ingredients. * Infused with plant-based surfactant and natural enzvme to minimize irritation. Use my code for discount$ YesStyle code: Emma121 #gifted #pcalm #koreanskincare #kbeauty #cleansingoil #cleanser #yesstyle #yesstyleinfluencer #Underratedskincare #skincarecommunity #skincareproducts #skincareaddict #fyp #fyps) #fypage #explore #explorepage #skincarereels @YesStyle @YesStyleInfluencers @P.CALM

Emma🎀
Emma🎀
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Region: AU
Wednesday 24 April 2024 01:07:53 GMT
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xting06
Xting :
My fav brand 💚
2024-04-26 04:44:46
0
bernicediaries
bernice ౨ৎ :
love these 💗💗
2024-04-24 07:22:41
0
ltploan
𝐿𝑜𝒶𝓃 🧖🏻‍♀️ :
love the qualityy 😻
2024-04-24 07:04:27
0
radiatewtris
trisha໒꒱ | aesthetician 🫧 :
i wanna try 🤩🤩
2024-04-24 04:47:21
0
beautywithseli
beautywithseli | k-beauty :
I need this duo 😍😍
2024-04-24 01:49:30
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jhamheartsthis
⋆｡˚ ౨ৎ jham ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ :
Must have! 💯✨
2024-04-24 01:42:21
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#الفنان #سلام #الساعدي #موالات_حزينة_عراقية💔 #لايك_متابعه #اكسبلاورررر
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Total smile makeover kit is the perfect gift for Valentine’s Day this year @Puneet Nanda bridge the gap @Elizabeth @GuruNanda LLC #gurunanda #gurunandaoilpulling #oralhealth #oralhygiene
Total smile makeover kit is the perfect gift for Valentine’s Day this year @Puneet Nanda bridge the gap @Elizabeth @GuruNanda LLC #gurunanda #gurunandaoilpulling #oralhealth #oralhygiene
حسب الطلب عل بيبيه🫶🏻💜. #تصاميم_فيديوهات🎵🎤🎬 #يافاطمه_الزهراء #ياحسين #يارب #ياعباس #ياعلي #foryoupage #foryou #fyp #f #تيم_زهراء_ملاك #حسيني #الشعب_الصيني_ماله_حل😂😂
حسب الطلب عل بيبيه🫶🏻💜. #تصاميم_فيديوهات🎵🎤🎬 #يافاطمه_الزهراء #ياحسين #يارب #ياعباس #ياعلي #foryoupage #foryou #fyp #f #تيم_زهراء_ملاك #حسيني #الشعب_الصيني_ماله_حل😂😂
😏🖤 ____________________________________ Aya loved the piano. It was her escape, her sanctuary. Every day after school, she would go to the music room, practicing long after her classmates had gone home. The room was spacious, with sunlight streaming through the large windows, casting golden hues on the polished wooden floor. The grand piano sat in the corner, its glossy surface reflecting the light. Aya felt most alive when her fingers danced across the keys, creating melodies that seemed to fill the room with magic. But there was a mystery about the music room. Students whispered about strange occurrences, claiming they’d heard piano notes late at night even though the room was always locked. Others spoke of fleeting shadows or cold breezes brushing past them near the piano. Some said the spirit of a girl haunted the room—a girl who had once been a brilliant pianist but met an untimely end. Aya dismissed the rumors as nonsense. She didn’t believe in ghosts. But one evening, something happened that made her question everything. It was a stormy day, and the rain battered the windows as Aya sat at the piano. The school was nearly empty, the corridors eerily silent. She was practicing a challenging piece, struggling to perfect a section when she heard it—a soft, delicate note played behind her. Aya’s hands froze. The sound hadn’t come from her piano. Slowly, she turned, her heart pounding. The room was empty. The other instruments were untouched, yet the sound had been unmistakable. Shaking off the unease, Aya tried to focus on her music. But as she played, she felt a presence. It was subtle at first, a faint chill in the air, but it grew stronger. Then, out of nowhere, the piano beside her—the one students rarely touched—began to play. Aya gasped, stumbling back. The notes were soft and deliberate, weaving a hauntingly beautiful melody. And then she saw her. A girl sat at the piano, her figure faint and shimmering like a mirage. She wore a school uniform, her long hair cascading over her shoulders. Her hands moved gracefully over the keys, yet there was a sadness in her posture, a heaviness that Aya could feel in the music. “Who... who are you?” Aya stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. The girl stopped playing and turned to Aya. Her face was pale, her eyes filled with sorrow. “I used to play here,” she said, her voice soft and distant. “This room was my haven. But I never got to finish my final piece.” Aya’s fear ebbed, replaced by a strange mix of sympathy and curiosity. “Your final piece?” The girl nodded. “I poured my heart into it, but I ran out of time. The storm that night… it took me away.” Aya’s chest tightened. “What do you mean? What happened to you?” The girl didn’t answer directly. Instead, she gestured to a dusty corner of the room. Aya followed her gaze and found an old, worn notebook resting on a shelf. She opened it and saw pages filled with sheet music, the notes intricately written. At the bottom of the last page, the melody abruptly stopped. “Please,” the girl whispered. “Help me finish it.” Aya hesitated, her fingers brushing the worn edges of the notebook. “How?” The girl looked at her with hopeful eyes. “Play it. Complete it. Let the music be heard.” Over the next few days, Aya devoted herself to the task. She studied the notebook, trying to understand the ghostly girl’s intent. Each time she played a section, the girl would appear, watching silently. Aya felt a strange connection, as if the girl’s emotions were flowing through her, guiding her hands. Finally, one evening, Aya completed the piece. She sat at the piano, her heart racing as she played the final, haunting notes. The music filled the room, echoing against the walls, carrying a blend of sorrow and triumph.
😏🖤 ____________________________________ Aya loved the piano. It was her escape, her sanctuary. Every day after school, she would go to the music room, practicing long after her classmates had gone home. The room was spacious, with sunlight streaming through the large windows, casting golden hues on the polished wooden floor. The grand piano sat in the corner, its glossy surface reflecting the light. Aya felt most alive when her fingers danced across the keys, creating melodies that seemed to fill the room with magic. But there was a mystery about the music room. Students whispered about strange occurrences, claiming they’d heard piano notes late at night even though the room was always locked. Others spoke of fleeting shadows or cold breezes brushing past them near the piano. Some said the spirit of a girl haunted the room—a girl who had once been a brilliant pianist but met an untimely end. Aya dismissed the rumors as nonsense. She didn’t believe in ghosts. But one evening, something happened that made her question everything. It was a stormy day, and the rain battered the windows as Aya sat at the piano. The school was nearly empty, the corridors eerily silent. She was practicing a challenging piece, struggling to perfect a section when she heard it—a soft, delicate note played behind her. Aya’s hands froze. The sound hadn’t come from her piano. Slowly, she turned, her heart pounding. The room was empty. The other instruments were untouched, yet the sound had been unmistakable. Shaking off the unease, Aya tried to focus on her music. But as she played, she felt a presence. It was subtle at first, a faint chill in the air, but it grew stronger. Then, out of nowhere, the piano beside her—the one students rarely touched—began to play. Aya gasped, stumbling back. The notes were soft and deliberate, weaving a hauntingly beautiful melody. And then she saw her. A girl sat at the piano, her figure faint and shimmering like a mirage. She wore a school uniform, her long hair cascading over her shoulders. Her hands moved gracefully over the keys, yet there was a sadness in her posture, a heaviness that Aya could feel in the music. “Who... who are you?” Aya stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. The girl stopped playing and turned to Aya. Her face was pale, her eyes filled with sorrow. “I used to play here,” she said, her voice soft and distant. “This room was my haven. But I never got to finish my final piece.” Aya’s fear ebbed, replaced by a strange mix of sympathy and curiosity. “Your final piece?” The girl nodded. “I poured my heart into it, but I ran out of time. The storm that night… it took me away.” Aya’s chest tightened. “What do you mean? What happened to you?” The girl didn’t answer directly. Instead, she gestured to a dusty corner of the room. Aya followed her gaze and found an old, worn notebook resting on a shelf. She opened it and saw pages filled with sheet music, the notes intricately written. At the bottom of the last page, the melody abruptly stopped. “Please,” the girl whispered. “Help me finish it.” Aya hesitated, her fingers brushing the worn edges of the notebook. “How?” The girl looked at her with hopeful eyes. “Play it. Complete it. Let the music be heard.” Over the next few days, Aya devoted herself to the task. She studied the notebook, trying to understand the ghostly girl’s intent. Each time she played a section, the girl would appear, watching silently. Aya felt a strange connection, as if the girl’s emotions were flowing through her, guiding her hands. Finally, one evening, Aya completed the piece. She sat at the piano, her heart racing as she played the final, haunting notes. The music filled the room, echoing against the walls, carrying a blend of sorrow and triumph.
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