Each skill is two files. Download, paste, build — Claude handles the rest.
The style that makes apps look like a funded startup shipped them — no decoration, just everything in the right place.
The frosted glass effect from iPhone notifications and Apple Vision Pro — layered, transparent, and immediately premium.
Heavy borders, bold offset shadows, flat colors — raw and intentional. The style behind Gumroad and the best indie launches.
Deep warm darks, confident typography, one electric accent — the visual language of apps that cost money and look like it.
Buttons that push in, sliders that look like dials — a tactile, physical quality unlike anything else in digital UI.
Asymmetric cards that vary in size and weight — the layout behind Apple's product pages and viral feature sections.
Early-2000s internet energy — chunky, colorful, unapologetically fun. The style that gets noticed, shared, and remembered.
Large confident serifs, generous whitespace, restrained palette — looks like a designer was involved even when one wasn't.
Clean, confident, and instantly trustworthy. The visual language behind Linear, Vercel, and Notion — for products that need to look funded without being funded.
Primary colors, geometric shapes, and a grid so rigorously followed it becomes beautiful. Timeless design conviction for products that make a statement.
Green on black. One font. One grid. The design language of the digital void — code rain, terminal readouts, and interfaces that feel like they're running the world.
Neon light, dark interfaces, and information overload as atmosphere. The aesthetic of Blade Runner terminals and Cyberpunk 2077 for gaming and creative tools.
The visual language of spacecraft panels and mission control — dark, precise, meditative. For tools where users need to feel like they're operating something significant.
The prompt, the cursor, the monospace grid. Terminal design takes the CLI's honest visual vocabulary and turns it into a complete design system.
Every pixel a decision. The handmade aesthetic of SNES-era RPGs and indie games, applied to web UI for products that want to say 'made with love.'
Squiggly lines, clashing colors, and geometric shapes on everything. The bold 80s design revival that turns visual energy into personality.
Japanese cuteness as a design philosophy — pastel palettes, extreme rounding, and micro-personality moments that create genuine emotional attachment between users and apps.
Soft, inflated UI that looks sculpted from clay. The design language of Duolingo, Headspace, and consumer apps that make you smile.
Dark, precise, and charged with intelligence. The real design language of AI-native products — Perplexity, Cursor, Runway — not the generic chatbot aesthetic.
Numbers as first-class citizens. The visual language of Stripe, Wise, and Mercury — where design precision and financial confidence are indistinguishable.
Hot pinks and electric purples bleeding into dark backgrounds, Roman busts in digital space, the dreamy aesthetic of a memory that never actually happened.
Tony Stark's AI made real — translucent panels floating in dark space, arc reactor blue appearing only where it matters, calm authority at every interaction.
The design language of the 1920s — gold accents, geometric symmetry, bold vertical lines, and a sense of occasion that makes everything it touches feel more important.
A light-background sci-fi HUD aesthetic built on clinical precision — thin line work, targeting reticles, dot-matrix numerals, and a single warning-light accent color. The opposite of every other sci-fi UI style, and exactly why it stops people.
