THINGS TO SCRIPT FOR BEAUTY ✶  ETHEREAL.

hello coolest person in the multiverse, do you have any ideas for things to script but whimsical, ethereal edition? thank youuuu ❤️

　THINGS TO SCRIPT FOR BEAUTY ✶  ETHEREAL.

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your fingertips leave invisible golden threads wherever they trail. across tables, shoulders, petals. if you touch something, it’s changed, even if no one sees it.

when you hum absentmindedly, it sounds like an incantation. people pause mid-conversation to listen.

your presence feels like spring breaking through winter. something always begins where you are. an idea, a glance, a bloom.

your hands could sew a wound or start a war, depending on how they’re asked.

there’s a wildness in your softness. the kind that makes people want to follow you into the dark and trust they’ll make it back out.

you carry a scent that people can’t quite place: like honey melting in tea, sun-drenched peaches, or jasmine at midnight.

the sound of your breathing in a quiet room could lull someone to sleep. gentle and rhythmic, like waves lapping against a shore.

your voice is steady and timeless, like ancient lullabies sung around a fire. when you speak, it feels like something’s being born.

you can find beauty where no one else looks: in cracked teacups, dust motes floating in sunlight, weeds pushing through cobblestones.

the earth recognises you. flowers seem to lean towards you as you pass, like sunflowers chasing light.

you exist like a field of wildflowers. soft, chaotic, and untouched by human hands.

you carry yourself like royalty without needing a crown. chin lifted, shoulders soft, gaze steady.

people feel safe around you. like you’re a sanctuary in a storm, a quiet church with sunbeams falling through stained glass.

birds land near you just to sing louder. bees linger longer on flowers you’ve touched.

you can hold a spider in your palm without fear and guide it back outside. the world listens to you because you listen to it first.

the sharp side of your tenderness? you protect what’s yours. fiercely. nobody touches your people, your peace, your spirit, without paying a price.

you look at someone with your full attention and they feel seen. not just their face, but their soul.

moths follow you at night. mirrors show you softer. candles burn brighter when you’re nearby.

when you sit still, time slows down. dust catches the light. birds dare to land closer.

you don’t rush. you flow. through crowds, conversations, spaces. as if every movement is deliberate, traced from constellations.

people don’t realise they’re holding their breath until you exhale.

your eyes hold stories no one’s told yet. someone could look at you and swear you know something about them. something good.

you wear silver jewellery that catches the moonlight just right. like the moon is winking at you, an old friend.

people don’t just look at you. they lean in. your energy pulls them closer like gravity.

you could make someone reconsider an entire life decision just by tilting your head and raising a brow.

people do things for you because they want to. “let me help you with that,” they say, before they’ve realised it’s already done.

when you smile, it feels earned. like you’ve gifted someone a treasure that belongs to very few.

you brush your hair slowly, like you’re blessing it. each strand kissed by bristles of gold.

your life is a ritual : the way you tie your ribbons, sweep kohl under your lashes, arrange fresh fruit in bowls. everything feels intentional.

you dip your feet into a cold stream and the water turns warmer, gentler, like it’s trying to please you.

you press your palm to a tree trunk and swear you can hear a faint heartbeat.

your energy feels like deep forests, wild oceans, or the first rainfall after a dry summer. restorative, sacred, alive.

you’re the calm before lightning strikes, the tension of a sky about to break.

your beauty is haunting, like the hum of an old song stuck in someone’s head.

you don’t play by the rules. you write them. and then break them with a smile.

you love like a cathedral loves its worshippers. vast, sacred, and steady.

when you hold someone, they feel like they could stay forever.

people feel lucky to know you, even if you never say a word about it.

people remember you in pieces: the way your bracelets jingled, the sound of your laughter in empty halls, the glow of your skin under twilight.

you leave rooms feeling fuller, like the air has been blessed.

your beauty lives in memories and dreams. soft, untouchable, and utterly unforgettable.

— there it is. ethereal beauty that goes beyond the body. it’s about being timeless, untamed, and deeply felt. your energy isn’t just seen. it’s experienced, remembered, and worshipped. write this into your dr like you’re painting your very soul across it. gold leaf, candlelight, the quiet hum of something holy  .  ་  ˖