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AI artwork featuring #Yanagi Tsukishiro
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Yanagi Tsukishiro

#Yanagi Tsukishiro
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Trevor Belmont

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character: tsukishiro_yanagi 2girls, no, 1girl, 1boy, 2 people total, mature adult woman, mature adult man, pink hair, long hair, hair between eyes, sidelocks, hair intakes, ring hair ornament, violet eyes, rimless eyeglasses, gigantic breasts, curvy body, wide hips, wide thighs, button blouse, corset, skirt, thigh highs, sitting, at table, white hair, medium hair, blue eyes, toned body, sweater, jeans, restaurant, date, looking at each other, leaning forward, elbow on table, chin rest, hand on chin, head tilt, light smile, blush, cowboy shot, from above, dutch angle, depth of field, warm interior lighting, candlelight, window seat The camera looks down from a shallow high angle, tilted a few degrees off level, in a cowboy shot that holds both figures from the waist up where they sit across a narrow two-person restaurant table. The table's near edge cuts the bottom of the frame; the two face each other along a diagonal, so both are three-quarter to the lens rather than square to it. On the left of frame the woman sits with her weight rocked forward onto her right forearm planted on the tabletop, her left hand curled loosely around the stem of a wine glass, fingers spread against the glass and nails catching the candle. Her chin rests on the back of her right hand, cheek pressed slightly into the knuckle of her index finger, elbow denting the white tablecloth into a small crease. Her long pink hair falls in straight heavy panels past her shoulders, two long sidelocks dropping in front of her ears, hair between her eyes parting down the centre of her brow, and the ring-shaped hair ornament is caught at the left side of her head where the light rims it. Behind the rimless eyeglasses — thin wire arms vanishing into her hair, no frame across the brow, lenses catching two small pale rectangles of candle reflection — her violet eyes are lifted and fixed on the man's face, lids low, the corner of her mouth pulled into a faint closed-lip smile. The button blouse is open at the collar with the top button undone, cloth taut across her chest and tucked down into a cinched corset that bites the waist and flares over wide hips; the skirt spreads across her seat. Her thighs are pressed together under the table edge, thigh highs ending high on them. On the right the man leans in on his left elbow, right hand flat on the table with his fingers an inch from hers, not quite touching. His medium-length white hair falls forward over one brow as he tips his head down toward her, blue eyes on her eyes, one eyebrow lifted, a lopsided grin showing a sliver of teeth. His sweater's knit ribbing is visible at the cuff and collar, the sleeves pushed to the forearm, and the shoulder line reads as a toned frame under the wool; jeans below the table. His shoulders are angled so one crowds nearer the table edge than the other. Light comes only from the small candle on the table between them and the warm pendants strung behind — the candle is the key, a low warm source below their chins that lights the underside of her jaw, the rim of his collar and the tops of the glasses, and throws both their shadows long and soft up the wall behind. Beyond the table the restaurant falls into warm amber gloom: a window at their backs, its glass a dark blue mirror with the street's blurred lights doubled and dimmer than their sources, empty chair backs, one distant table with an illegible chalked menu board. Red, cream and warm amber hold the palette: red in the wine, the candle glow, a hint of it on her nail beds; cream in the cloth and blouse; amber in the room. The candle's small flame bends toward the man because she has just leaned in — its light travels with the lean, so the bright edge of her cheek and the shadow under her chin shift a half-step his way. Quiet, warm, unhurried.
Show Parameters
Original Prompt
1girl, mature adult, pink hair, long length, Tsukishiro Yanagi hair style, violet eyes, rimless eyeglasses, gigantic breast, curvy body, wide hips, wide thighs, button blouse and corset, skirt, thigh highs, sitting at table with, 1boy, mature adult, white hair, medium length, blue eyes, toned body, sweater jeans, at restaurant, date themed
Mode
flash
Size
1104 x 1824
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AI artwork
tb
character: tsukishiro_yanagi 2girls, no, 1girl, 1boy, 2 people total, mature adult woman, mature adult man, pink hair, long hair, hair between eyes, sidelocks, hair intakes, ring hair ornament, violet eyes, rimless eyeglasses, gigantic breasts, curvy body, wide hips, wide thighs, button blouse, corset, skirt, thigh highs, sitting, at table, white hair, medium hair, blue eyes, toned body, sweater, jeans, restaurant, date, looking at each other, leaning forward, elbow on table, chin rest, hand on chin, head tilt, light smile, blush, cowboy shot, from above, dutch angle, depth of field, warm interior lighting, candlelight, window seat The camera looks down from a shallow high angle, tilted a few degrees off level, in a cowboy shot that holds both figures from the waist up where they sit across a narrow two-person restaurant table. The table's near edge cuts the bottom of the frame; the two face each other along a diagonal, so both are three-quarter to the lens rather than square to it. On the left of frame the woman sits with her weight rocked forward onto her right forearm planted on the tabletop, her left hand curled loosely around the stem of a wine glass, fingers spread against the glass and nails catching the candle. Her chin rests on the back of her right hand, cheek pressed slightly into the knuckle of her index finger, elbow denting the white tablecloth into a small crease. Her long pink hair falls in straight heavy panels past her shoulders, two long sidelocks dropping in front of her ears, hair between her eyes parting down the centre of her brow, and the ring-shaped hair ornament is caught at the left side of her head where the light rims it. Behind the rimless eyeglasses — thin wire arms vanishing into her hair, no frame across the brow, lenses catching two small pale rectangles of candle reflection — her violet eyes are lifted and fixed on the man's face, lids low, the corner of her mouth pulled into a faint closed-lip smile. The button blouse is open at the collar with the top button undone, cloth taut across her chest and tucked down into a cinched corset that bites the waist and flares over wide hips; the skirt spreads across her seat. Her thighs are pressed together under the table edge, thigh highs ending high on them. On the right the man leans in on his left elbow, right hand flat on the table with his fingers an inch from hers, not quite touching. His medium-length white hair falls forward over one brow as he tips his head down toward her, blue eyes on her eyes, one eyebrow lifted, a lopsided grin showing a sliver of teeth. His sweater's knit ribbing is visible at the cuff and collar, the sleeves pushed to the forearm, and the shoulder line reads as a toned frame under the wool; jeans below the table. His shoulders are angled so one crowds nearer the table edge than the other. Light comes only from the small candle on the table between them and the warm pendants strung behind — the candle is the key, a low warm source below their chins that lights the underside of her jaw, the rim of his collar and the tops of the glasses, and throws both their shadows long and soft up the wall behind. Beyond the table the restaurant falls into warm amber gloom: a window at their backs, its glass a dark blue mirror with the street's blurred lights doubled and dimmer than their sources, empty chair backs, one distant table with an illegible chalked menu board. Red, cream and warm amber hold the palette: red in the wine, the candle glow, a hint of it on her nail beds; cream in the cloth and blouse; amber in the room. The candle's small flame bends toward the man because she has just leaned in — its light travels with the lean, so the bright edge of her cheek and the shadow under her chin shift a half-step his way. Quiet, warm, unhurried.
Trevor Belmont
#Yanagi Tsukishiro
AI artwork
tb
character: tsukishiro_yanagi 2girls, no, 1girl, 1boy, 2 people total, mature adult woman, mature adult man, pink hair, long hair, hair between eyes, sidelocks, hair intakes, ring hair ornament, violet eyes, rimless eyeglasses, gigantic breasts, curvy body, wide hips, wide thighs, button blouse, corset, skirt, thigh highs, sitting, at table, white hair, medium hair, blue eyes, toned body, sweater, jeans, restaurant, date, looking at each other, leaning forward, elbow on table, chin rest, hand on chin, head tilt, light smile, blush, cowboy shot, from above, dutch angle, depth of field, warm interior lighting, candlelight, window seat The camera looks down from a shallow high angle, tilted a few degrees off level, in a cowboy shot that holds both figures from the waist up where they sit across a narrow two-person restaurant table. The table's near edge cuts the bottom of the frame; the two face each other along a diagonal, so both are three-quarter to the lens rather than square to it. On the left of frame the woman sits with her weight rocked forward onto her right forearm planted on the tabletop, her left hand curled loosely around the stem of a wine glass, fingers spread against the glass and nails catching the candle. Her chin rests on the back of her right hand, cheek pressed slightly into the knuckle of her index finger, elbow denting the white tablecloth into a small crease. Her long pink hair falls in straight heavy panels past her shoulders, two long sidelocks dropping in front of her ears, hair between her eyes parting down the centre of her brow, and the ring-shaped hair ornament is caught at the left side of her head where the light rims it. Behind the rimless eyeglasses — thin wire arms vanishing into her hair, no frame across the brow, lenses catching two small pale rectangles of candle reflection — her violet eyes are lifted and fixed on the man's face, lids low, the corner of her mouth pulled into a faint closed-lip smile. The button blouse is open at the collar with the top button undone, cloth taut across her chest and tucked down into a cinched corset that bites the waist and flares over wide hips; the skirt spreads across her seat. Her thighs are pressed together under the table edge, thigh highs ending high on them. On the right the man leans in on his left elbow, right hand flat on the table with his fingers an inch from hers, not quite touching. His medium-length white hair falls forward over one brow as he tips his head down toward her, blue eyes on her eyes, one eyebrow lifted, a lopsided grin showing a sliver of teeth. His sweater's knit ribbing is visible at the cuff and collar, the sleeves pushed to the forearm, and the shoulder line reads as a toned frame under the wool; jeans below the table. His shoulders are angled so one crowds nearer the table edge than the other. Light comes only from the small candle on the table between them and the warm pendants strung behind — the candle is the key, a low warm source below their chins that lights the underside of her jaw, the rim of his collar and the tops of the glasses, and throws both their shadows long and soft up the wall behind. Beyond the table the restaurant falls into warm amber gloom: a window at their backs, its glass a dark blue mirror with the street's blurred lights doubled and dimmer than their sources, empty chair backs, one distant table with an illegible chalked menu board. Red, cream and warm amber hold the palette: red in the wine, the candle glow, a hint of it on her nail beds; cream in the cloth and blouse; amber in the room. The candle's small flame bends toward the man because she has just leaned in — its light travels with the lean, so the bright edge of her cheek and the shadow under her chin shift a half-step his way. Quiet, warm, unhurried.
Trevor Belmont
#Yanagi Tsukishiro
AI artwork
tb
character: tsukishiro_yanagi 2girls, no, 1girl, 1boy, 2 people total, mature adult woman, mature adult man, pink hair, long hair, hair between eyes, sidelocks, hair intakes, ring hair ornament, violet eyes, rimless eyeglasses, gigantic breasts, curvy body, wide hips, wide thighs, button blouse, corset, skirt, thigh highs, sitting, at table, white hair, medium hair, blue eyes, toned body, sweater, jeans, restaurant, date, looking at each other, leaning forward, elbow on table, chin rest, hand on chin, head tilt, light smile, blush, cowboy shot, from above, dutch angle, depth of field, warm interior lighting, candlelight, window seat The camera looks down from a shallow high angle, tilted a few degrees off level, in a cowboy shot that holds both figures from the waist up where they sit across a narrow two-person restaurant table. The table's near edge cuts the bottom of the frame; the two face each other along a diagonal, so both are three-quarter to the lens rather than square to it. On the left of frame the woman sits with her weight rocked forward onto her right forearm planted on the tabletop, her left hand curled loosely around the stem of a wine glass, fingers spread against the glass and nails catching the candle. Her chin rests on the back of her right hand, cheek pressed slightly into the knuckle of her index finger, elbow denting the white tablecloth into a small crease. Her long pink hair falls in straight heavy panels past her shoulders, two long sidelocks dropping in front of her ears, hair between her eyes parting down the centre of her brow, and the ring-shaped hair ornament is caught at the left side of her head where the light rims it. Behind the rimless eyeglasses — thin wire arms vanishing into her hair, no frame across the brow, lenses catching two small pale rectangles of candle reflection — her violet eyes are lifted and fixed on the man's face, lids low, the corner of her mouth pulled into a faint closed-lip smile. The button blouse is open at the collar with the top button undone, cloth taut across her chest and tucked down into a cinched corset that bites the waist and flares over wide hips; the skirt spreads across her seat. Her thighs are pressed together under the table edge, thigh highs ending high on them. On the right the man leans in on his left elbow, right hand flat on the table with his fingers an inch from hers, not quite touching. His medium-length white hair falls forward over one brow as he tips his head down toward her, blue eyes on her eyes, one eyebrow lifted, a lopsided grin showing a sliver of teeth. His sweater's knit ribbing is visible at the cuff and collar, the sleeves pushed to the forearm, and the shoulder line reads as a toned frame under the wool; jeans below the table. His shoulders are angled so one crowds nearer the table edge than the other. Light comes only from the small candle on the table between them and the warm pendants strung behind — the candle is the key, a low warm source below their chins that lights the underside of her jaw, the rim of his collar and the tops of the glasses, and throws both their shadows long and soft up the wall behind. Beyond the table the restaurant falls into warm amber gloom: a window at their backs, its glass a dark blue mirror with the street's blurred lights doubled and dimmer than their sources, empty chair backs, one distant table with an illegible chalked menu board. Red, cream and warm amber hold the palette: red in the wine, the candle glow, a hint of it on her nail beds; cream in the cloth and blouse; amber in the room. The candle's small flame bends toward the man because she has just leaned in — its light travels with the lean, so the bright edge of her cheek and the shadow under her chin shift a half-step his way. Quiet, warm, unhurried.
Trevor Belmont
#Yanagi Tsukishiro
AI artwork
Avatar image of Trevor
character: tsukishiro_yanagi 1girl, 1boy, 2girls, 2boys, couple, mature adult female, mature adult male, pink hair, long hair, hair between eyes, sidelocks, Tsukishiro Yanagi hair style, violet eyes, rimless eyeglasses, gigantic breasts, curvy body, wide hips, wide thighs, off-shoulder sweater, cream knit sweater, skirt, black skirt, white hair, medium length hair, blue eyes, toned body, casual clothes, navy t-shirt, grey lounge pants, cuddling, sitting on couch, leaning on another, head on another's shoulder, arm around waist, arm around shoulder, hand on another's arm, looking at another, light smile, half-closed eyes, blush, couch, cozy living room, warm lamp light, indoors, sunset through window, two-shot, close-up, from side, profile, soft warm palette, tender The frame is a side-on two-shot, camera level with the couch cushions and close, so the two of them fill the picture and the room falls away in soft focus behind. The couch runs across the lower right of the frame, a deep, nubby-upholstered couch in muted olive drab; the man sits near its center, weight back into the corner, one of its cushions compressed under his hip while the other sinks under her. He is the one leaning back — a tall, mature man with a solid, toned build, medium-length white hair swept back off his forehead and falling just past his nape, his navy t-shirt stretched across his chest and shoulders, his grey lounge pants bunched at one knee. His left arm lies along the couch's backrest and drops around her shoulders, his hand settling on the outside of her upper arm, thumb flat against the knit. His right hand rests loose on his own thigh. She is pressed in against his side, the direction of the whole shot set by the way she has tipped into him: her long pink hair — cut with the heavy side-swept wings and the short curtain of fringe that hang between her eyes — spills across the front of his shoulder and across the cream knit of her sweater, some of it falling onto his chest. Her glasses, rimless and near-invisible, catch a thin white line of reflection across one lens. Her violet eyes are turned up and sideways toward his jaw; her cheek is against the slope of his shoulder, her lashes lowered halfway, her lips in a small closed curve, a faint warmth of blush high on her cheekbone. Her figure is emphatically full — the off-shoulder sweater is a soft cream knit that has slipped off both shoulders, leaving the bare line of her collarbones and the tops of her arms exposed, the wool pulled taut over her gigantic chest and cinched in at her waist before her wide hips and wide thighs spread across the cushion, the short black skirt riding up against the seat. One of her thighs lies over his, the weight of it visibly sinking the cushion. Her left hand is folded against his chest, fingers curled into the cotton of his t-shirt, knuckles resting lightly, her other arm tucked down between them. The primary light is a warm table lamp out of frame at the left, a low golden key that strikes the left side of her face and glass and the left plane of his neck, leaving the right side of both of them in a soft, warm-shadowed dark against the couch. A cool dusk light from a window behind them edges the tops of their hair — hers pink, his white — in a thin silver rim and dies before it reaches their faces. The palette is warm and narrow: cream wool, olive couch, the blue-black of his shirt, her pink hair and the small hard glint of the rimless frames, on a ground of amber lamp shadow. Where her cheek meets his shoulder, the wool of his cotton bunches into a shallow fold, and the couch cushion keeps the dent of both their weights. Quiet, intimate.
Trevor

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