#iOS ideas

[yogurtbug]

affirmations 4 tha day (๑´>᎑<)~*

[jefffrose24]

Fordern Sie Ihr iPhone 14 an! 

Holen Sie sich jetzt : https://sites.google.com/view/winningmoment247

[steviexdarling]

So I wanted to share my ios theme that I just set up. I haven’t done any ios themes since when ios 16 first came out with the feature. Then I got tired of each app opening shortcuts every time. Luckily it’s been updated so I sat down and took the couple hours it took to do this and it looks nice af. I still plan to do a few more to cycle through like a green one since it’s my favorite color, a cinnamoroll one since that’s one of my special interests, a manga aesthetic one, maybe a Pokémon one if I can make it look aesthetically pleasing since Pokémon is my #1 special interest and has been for years, a witchy/pagan one since I’m a pagan witch ofc, maybe a StrayKids one since they’re my number one favorite K-pop group of all time (I’ve been with them since pre-debut when Hellevator came out), And maybe a couple others I’m not sure yet. So my next post will be the first and current ios theme I made and have set on my phone.

[icyowl]

You discover Dragon!Sylus

Pairing: Dragon!Sylus x reader

Request: none

A/N: not proofread. LADS is my current obsession, however I don't have the game so forgive me if it's not lore-accurate. Thank you for being so patient with me :). 2k.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

He always knew you’d be his undoing, he just didn’t think it would be so literal. Perhaps it was one too many resonances, or maybe the depth of your bond had reached some sort of fever pitch.

It began with a headache. Nothing noticeable - given his line of work, headaches were too common - but devolved into a skull-wrenching migraine. Candlelight was too bright, the needle of the recordplayer was too loud, the continuous air conditioning couldn’t keep him cool, even the scratch of the softest silk dress shirt nagged at his irritability.

No hospital would see him, and no doctor could help him given his physiology. The only thing to do was wait it out in the dark cave of his bedroom and hope it didn’t kill him.

It looked like it well might.

The phone on his nightstand screamed, but he used one hand to keep his head from splitting open and used the other to reach for it anyways. He’d permitted only your calls - you soothed the gouge behind his eyes and eased the booms in his chest. Sylus was soothing you before you had a chance to speak.

“I’m alright,” he grimaced at the pain in his throat and the gruff in his voice, “just a cold.”

“Sylus, what’s going on with you? You’ve never asked me to stay away and you sound like you’re really sick.”

“I’m fine, sweetie, i’m sorry if it’s made you upset.”

You paused, gathering strength, then whispered, “did I do something wrong?”

“No. Fuck,” he flexed his jaw through a groan when his head throbbed, “never.”

The ache in his chest ignited, expanding and pressing against his ribs and biting into his sternum. Was the great leader really going to be done in by a heartattack?

“Sylus?!” You called. His voice had turned into something unrecognizable.

The truth was worse. His eyes were open but his vision was little more than vague swaths of browns, blacks, and reds. Fire singed his nerves until it was all he could do to keep from shouting. A slow heartbeat plugged his ears. His fist gripped the sheets, ripping it under his nails. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“It’s too late!”

“I need to go.” He swallowed though saliva was impossible to find. “I’ll call you when it passes, promise.”

A harsh crash berated your ears just before the line cut out. Keys were in your hand, shoes in your feet, and jacket forgotten even before the screen timed out.

—

Sylus’s estate loomed dark and massive even against the pitch of night. Whistling wind, thunder, and rain broke up the perfect quiet. Shivers broke out across your skin. Still, you paused. The burgundy front door was wide open, tilting back and forth amidst the occasional gust. Nothing else dared make itself known.

Your phone buzzed in your hand.

Luke:

GET OUT OF THERE NOW

You didn’t listen. You couldn’t. Worry strangled the survival instinct clawing around under your skin, allowing you the courage to ease the door wider. Sylus’s entryway looked mostly normal, with only the rug slightly off kilter and the lights out, save for the wood panel near the door sheered off its hinges, exposing the house’s raw flesh underneath. Wires were tangled, mangled, or missing. The few that remained crackled and arced.

Someone had destroyed the electrical box.

You crept farther into the lair. With each room, the carnage got worse. Furniture lay overturned, paintings were thrown on the floor, broken glass from vases, windows, and tables forced you to zigzag, even a marble statue the size of you had been thrown through a wall.

You braced yourself on the wall only to hiss and jerk back when a splinter dug into your palm.

A crack of lightning jerked your head up. Though fleeting, the new light let you grasp the details of your surroundings.

Blood.

Smearing the rich wood floor, spattering the walls and ceilings, dripping off a chair’s broken arm. Blood everywhere.

You swallowed the cry of his name. Speaking would only alert your presence to the enemy, perhaps distract Sylus, and kill the element of surprise you still had. The intruders hadn’t seen you yet, and the lack of bodies meant Sylus was still fighting them. He could take care of himself.

Another bright flash glinted off the wall of guns adjecent to you. Who would break in and leave the weapons alone?

Avoiding more glass, you hustled to the last remaining room: Sylus’s bedroom. Blood continued, as did damage to the walls. Something sinister skittered up your neck when the cuts in the wall arced in a ragged quintet. . . claw marks.

The thing in here with Sylus wasn’t a person, but a monster.

You ran to him room, restraint evaporating, throwing yourself through the doorway and crying his name. . .

“Stay back!” Someone yelled, freezing you. A moment later your mind caught up and whispered to you where a double-toned voice had roared. That was Sylus.

The bed was mostly intact, though the sheets laid on the floor in a shredded heap and the gossamer canopy had been ripped off the ceiling. Your heart wilted in your chest - he’d never yelled at you like that. A shift in the shadows on the far side of the bed drew your attention.

“Sorry, my love.” Sylus tried again, this time more normal. It still sounded like a ghost lived in his throat, but now it resembled your Sylus. “I don’t mean to scare you but. . . I need you to listen to me.”

“O-okay. I will, but. . . I want to help you. The wanderer-”

“There is no wanderer.”

“Then-”

“Yes. Everything you saw was me.”

Silence impregnated the space between you and the shadow on the other side of the bed. What could you say? What should you do? Sweat shimmered on your upper lip in the flash of a lightning strike and the canon shot of thunder made you flinch.

“It’s okay that you’re scared-”

“I’m not-”

“I can hear your heart, smell your cortisol-”

“What?” That was not one of Sylus’s abilities.

You could hear the heavy breath befor every sentence, “I know what’s happening - I’ll be fine. Go. I’ll call you when it’s over.”

“No!” You exclaimed. How could he send you away?

“No?”

“I know you’re hurt.” you said, spotting more red on the ceiling. Altogether, he’d bled enough for several men. “I want to help, if I can.”

“I don’t want you to fear me.” Then, he let out a bitter, half-broken moan. It turned your heart to thorns.

“I don’t. I love you.” You said, taking a step into the room.

Unbeknownst to you, the man zeroed in on the soundless tap of your foot on the floor. His eyes glowed. You were right there, close enough to get - to hunt - to catch - to take - Sylus held a clawed hand to his face. Her voice - focus on her voice. Hear how worried she is for you. “I do too, but. . . just. . . I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You think you might?”

“I don’t want to, but. . . I’m not certain I can help it right now.”

“Let’s just take a breath. We’ll work this out together.”

“I don’t know.”

“I know you’d do it for me-”

“I would.” He replied without a breath. Sylus imagined you transforming as he was: scared, pained, ashamed, but still oh so beautiful, adorned in the flesh of his species. Fuck, you had him there. He’d have a difficult time containing himself if he knew you were hiding something like this from him.

“So. . .” you pressed, “what can I do.”

“Just. . . I need a moment to think.” Sylus had you right there, willing to help him amongst a bloodbath and house full of carnage. . . he couldn’t survive if he messed up such a precarious moment.

Something beastial knocked against his cage. Damn, not now. Pain skyrocketed. The inside of his eyelids turned white. If he knew the snarl he let out, he’d hate himself for it, but he didn’t bother to hear anything through the ripple of scales under his tearing flesh. Tearing, bursting, surging, the match lit behind his eyes finally caught and exploded. He felt the bone erupting from his skull, brought a hand up to shield himself from your gaze, and shouted to try and stop you but it was too late.

The massive stony tail curled on the floor between you was the first thing you saw. His entire lower body had erupted in black plates and armor, pulsing with glowing fissures of red. Feet and hands were thick, clawed, and razor sharp, like a wanderer’s. His pale chest, neck, and chin was interrupted by jagged bolts of red that all led to a swirling ruby imbedded in his chest that seemed to breathe with him. Stone even framed his face. Spearing up from atop his head were the cause of his scream: a crown of two lethal, rocky antlers. Blood stained his hair and ran down his face from the fresh wounds.

People had always called Sylus a monster.

You’d just met his eyes when he slammed them shut and cried out - roared - again. The sound more than his appearance was what pushed you back, but not far enough to miss the grotesque push of his antlers further out of his skull. The transformation must have nicked an artery, because more blood dripped from his forehead and a small spray burst out, covering your shirt. He let out a final, quiet snarl as his pain settled, showing off four large canines that turned silver in the flashing light outside.

You both stared at the blood covering each other for a long time. Sylus held a clawed hand up to his face and used the other one to shuffle away from you.

“I was never supposed to let you see this. Forgive me.”

A reply was impossible, but, being the kind heart that was still so obvious, he took your silence as disgust. A new kind of discomfort showed on the part of his face you could still see.

“There’s keys on the kitchen counter. Take whatever you want. I won’t contact you again. It’ll be like I was never there-“

“Sylus,” you whispered, moving to sit on the ground. It stopped him dead. “It’s. . . okay. Who cares what you look like. I just. . . I’m worried. You’re clearly in a lot of pain and can’t seem to stop-“

Now it was your turn to gasp. You’d closed your fist, pulling at the cut and causing your own rush of blood down your arm. Sylus gave no warning that he’d been affected by the sight of your blood, but in a single second you’d been pounced on, taken down until your back pressed into the wood floor and Sylus was over you: leg between yours, tail hugging your ankle, one clawed hand pining your good wrist to the ground while the other held your wounded palm up for intense scrutiny. Sylus’s eyes didn’t look different, but you knew he wasn’t there when he brushed his nose up the major artery on your wrist, then licked the blood rushing to greet his warm lips.

The taste of your blood engorged his pupils, but you only caught sight of it for a moment before he slammed them shut and yanked your hand down to the floor.

He’d always been good with words, but now they were a desperate rush. “My deepest apology. I didn’t mean to. I saw you were hurt and I-“

“Sylus. Breathe.” You tried. He followed your command, and a little sanity returned to him. Your blood wasn’t the only thing he could hear anymore, and it finally seemed like the transformation had subsided. Pain faded to soreness.

Even with the weight and danger of his claws, he relented when you moved your good hand from the ground to wipe some blood drying on his cheek. He took a long inhale, closing his eyes and easing into your touch. Then, Sylus’s tail caressed your calf, a gentle, unconscious kiss on his part. It was warm and kind, just like the real kiss he’d given you the day before. Despite being covered in rough, sharp armor, he’d yet to even scratch you, and his eyes hadn’t changed - they still watched you for any hint at a need or wish. Only his exterior had changed. “You’re beautiful.” You breathed.

Sylus gasped under his breath. The very notion was incomprehensible. You? Calling him that? Now? He rushed out another quiet apology when his tail slithered around your waist and pulled it flush against his. You didn’t retreat, however. All he could find was a genuine, if not sheepish, smile gazing up at him. Sylus didn’t dare breathe when he felt your fingers touch at the plates on his neck, and he heart all but stopped when you thumbed at his lip, asking for permission.

How could he say no?

“You’re certain?” He asked. You nodded. So, he eased back his lips to let you touch the fangs there, slick and waiting. Sylus, try as he might, couldn’t stop the quaky shiver nor the bone-deep rumble when your fingertip stroked the steel-like enamel. Your eyes were so curious when you saw the glow of the gem in his chest. Fcking hell if he wasn’t in love before, he sure was now, if only because the innocent look in your gaze did something to the blood in his body. His evol was ready to explode. He hoped his voice sounded normal when you took your hand away and all he could say was: “do you know how fascinating you are?”

You watched him hold your wrist, careful to keep his claws off your skin, and kiss you there. “I don’t know about fascinating. . . but. . . when you can, can I get a bandaid?”

[archfey-edda]

Double-edged swords

[starmonsterrr]

[ * them ,, ]

[ * A tiny bit messy but I think this turned out really good (particularly proud of the background!!!!) ]

[ * also got silly with Juno's tail because why not !! ]

[coldshrugs]

hi i'm bandwagoning o/

next wednesday, may 21, is my birthday! i thought it'd be fun to celebrate with western-themed gposes of wols and other xiv ocs! if you make something, feel free to tag me in the caption or in a comment on the post. i'm a "celebrate all month" kind of girl so there's no pressure to post anything on the exact date. and anything goes; modded or vanilla, posed or candid, high effort or a quick glam shot, rated E for everyone or M for mature. i don't mind :>

[theplayer-io]

The math and physics videos probs fucked up second's view on life

[the-sunshine-dims]

I need to yell about Io so much tumblr doesn't even know

[leclerrari]

“I was on a boat in Monaco. I had put the phone on silent mode, I found the call from Maurizio Arrivabene. I told the friend I was with to turn off the engines, that the head of Ferrari had called me and I didn’t feel well. I understood that he wouldn’t take me in Ferrari. It seemed a little strange to me that he called me to tell me that, I was disappointed. Fifteen seconds later he called me and told me he was joking. I hung up and dived into the sea, it all seemed so surreal. Me in Ferrari...”

— Charles Leclerc on signing with Ferrari in 2018 for L’Officiel Italia

[pekoeboo]

been thinking about Agent 47 again. tried to make him just a bit more expressive with this sketch Because I Can ;o;

please do not repost. also on deviantart

[spiderin-space]

Yeehaw‼️

[icyowl]

12:29, a Soshiro Hoshina sick-fic drabble

Pairing: Soshiro Hoshina x reader

Synopsis: teeny tiny drabble with Hoshina and the ever-popular sick fic trope. 700 words.

A/N: I'm sorry about being a little MIA. I've been going through various things since Jan. and for the first time in my life I'm critiquing my writing to the point of being unable to produce anything. Trying to get slowly back into the groove by writing this lil' guy. I promise I'm still here!

-------------------------------------------------------------

“At ease, soldier.” Soshiro said to you as he passed, grinning and relaxed.

“Yes, sir.” You replied, masking your grimace as a smile. Thankfully, he mistook the listless look in your eyes for fondness. Soshiro continued on his way, mind occupied with last night’s rendezvous and how the warmth of your head had felt on his shoulder. If he could ensure no intrusions, he’d do it again right now. He would have to settle for another time.

Soshiro reminisced as he left you behind, your smile and his hand in yours and the way you laughed still on his mind. The base’s halls hadn’t felt nearly as dark or musty since the two of you had started your. . . thing. He might have to advise the captain to get her own relationship; maybe she’d liven up a little.

The sound of someone falling had him rapidly backtracking, coming around the corner to find you sitting slumped against the grimy wall. He hurried over, calling your name, and saw how the dreamy look in your eyes had become languid. Where he’d placed his hand on your back felt unreasonably warm even through the fabric of your suit.

You wouldn’t lift your head to talk to him. Your voice had given in and become hoarse. “I’m okay, sir. Just a little under the weather.”

Soshiro put his palm on your forehead, scowling at the temperature. “Put your arm over my shoulder. I’m taking you to your room.”

“I’m okay—”

“That’s an order.”

You didn’t have much else to say to that. The short journey to your room was spent trying to power through the nausea pulling at your stomach and the embarrassment flooding your face; Soshiro should not be seeing you like this. Your condition was making you walk far too slow for your liking but you didn’t dare stress your upset stomach. If only you could get to your room faster, hide away from his penetrative gaze, but your energy was somewhere far away from your physical body. With every step you worried you’d trip.

“Why didn’t you call in sick?” Soshiro asked.

“While everyone else is doing work?” You had to admit, the others’ resolve was a little infectious. Kafka’s motivational speeches and Shinomiya’s natural talent had given you something to strive for. If a man with absolutely no battle prowess could persevere, then your silly little cold didn’t seem like much of an excuse.

“Rest is important.” He replied.

You wiped the sweat from your forehead, “don’t pretend you don’t sneak out for late night practice.”

Soshiro stopped at your room. “I’m not running a fever,” he pushed open the door. It wasn’t far to your bed, thankfully, and you slouched onto it like a shameless drunk. Your shaky arms could hardly hold you upright but at least you could catch a few wheezy breaths. Soshiro’s hand was on your forehead again, occasionally dipping down to your cheeks and neck while he looked over your pale skin. Your struggling breaths were only break in the otherwise quiet room.

“I just need some sleep,” you tried, “I’ll take a nap and be back in a couple of hours.”

“A nap isn’t going to get rid of that fever.” He sang. Before you could say anything he’d already gone towards the bathroom. It gave you time to try and calm your heartrate. The one-man-army that was Soshiro was tending to your sniffles with the same xx he had against kaiju. As if your germs were evil little kaiju themselves. He came back, damp washcloth in hand, and sat on your flimsy, creaky single cot. “Lay back,” he said, hand rising to push at your sternum. Much to your dismay, you gave in under the slightest pressure. Not that there was anyway of fighting him off, anyhow.

“Soshiro—”

“Do I need to pin you down?”

That got your attention. “N-No.”

You couldn’t ignore the heaven that spread across your skin when he placed the washcloth to your sweltering skin. Finally, after suppressing the coughs, sweltering away in your combat suit all morning, and fighting off the dizziness and chills, you let yourself relax. A belly-deep sigh left you in a long rush. If your eyes weren’t covered, you see Soshiro smiling faintly. Genuinely.

[naewonn]

Homescreen ideias

✉ ㅓ to my dear 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗻: nunca soube recitar poesia, não sei palavras de amor, não sou sedutor, não sei fingir nem poderia. só sei que eu te amo demais ★ !! . ( 💐 ) 爱

ꔫ 𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴﹏ esse sorrisinho na sua cara, eu sei. o que é mais gostoso que encontrar alguém que te deixa à vontade, dá prioridade, toma conta e invade ？ ⊹ 🍯 ✿⁠  . 🐚

🥛♡͏ㅤ𝓶𝓲𝓵𝓴ㅤㅤ﹠ ㅤ𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 ㅤ𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝖾

[inkyself]

Ma voi avete mai visto un cartone animato che è tipo cappuccetto rosso però una sorta di rivisitazione e c’è un tizio che vende gli schnitzel e grida sempre schnitzel

[magniferaindicat]

Can we talk about the tyranny of king Washington more and how the first thing Connor does when he awakens in an alternate reality and sees his mom he HUGS HER 🥲🥲🥲🥲

But also it kind of gives rise to other alternate universe ideas like what if Haytham did grab the Apple but he couldn’t properly wield it and he ended up in a timeline he couldn’t wake up from where either he didn’t fuck it up with Ziio or he became an assassin and Connor had to wake him up to the brutal reality oh! Sorry guys carry on

Assassins creed lore is so interesting! I wish they utilized it in an actually engaging and interesting way 💔