Nov 3, 2026

サーバーメンテナンス完了のお知らせ — サーバーメンテナンスが完了し、SDXLタスクおよびTsubaki.1タスクの生成速度は通常どおりに戻りました。メンテナンス中に溜まったタスクは、順次処理してまいります。一部のタスクは完了までもう少しお時間がかかる場合がございますので、今し…

AI art "The Boy Who Lived in Style!" featuring #眼鏡, #ベスト, #黒髪, #茶目, #蝶ネクタイ, #男の子, #丸眼鏡 and #ウィザーディング・ワールド

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The Boy Who Lived in Style!

I've always had such a soft spot for Harry, and seeing him rock this dapper vest and bowtie look just made my day. The warm, golden atmosphere really brings out the charm of the wizarding world, don't you think? If you love this stylish take on the Chosen One, please hit like and follow for more magical art, and let me know your thoughts in the comments!

#眼鏡 #ベスト #黒髪 #茶目 #蝶ネクタイ #男の子 #丸眼鏡 #ウィザーディング・ワールド

投稿日は Nov 4, 2026

Peepsquad

さらに表示

character: alastor_(human)_(hazbin_hotel) 1boy, 3girls, alastor, human alastor, male focus, brown hair, short hair, red eyes, glasses, round eyewear, black bowtie, brown vest, white dress shirt, formal clothes, dark trousers, 1920s, art deco, flapper era, jazz age, group, standing, women flirting, leaning in, clinging to arm, gazes on him, ignored, looking at viewer, smile, closed mouth, radio host poise, from below, cowboy shot, dutch angle, restaurant interior, speakeasy, warm tungsten glow, art deco interior, gold and crimson palette, depth of field, one-sided interaction, oblivious The camera sits low and tilted a few degrees off level, a cowboy shot from below: he fills the centre of the frame from mid-thigh to the top of his short brown hair, planted upright and square-on to the lens, chin slightly lifted so the underside of his jaw catches the light, while the composition's real energy crowds in low and to the sides around his waist. He is a slim, sharp-featured man in his late twenties, brown hair cropped short and combed flat with a side part, round wire-rimmed glasses setting two pale glints over narrow red-brown eyes, and he wears a white dress shirt buttoned to the collar, a brown vest with three visible buttons, a black bowtie sitting neat and level, and dark formal trousers. His hands are loose and unhurried — the right thumb hooked into the low pocket of his vest, the left lifted a few inches from his side, index and middle finger slightly parted in the smallest, most dismissive half-gesture of a man acknowledging applause that is not coming. His gaze is nailed straight to the viewer, unbroken and perfectly pleasant, the corners of his mouth drawn up in a shut-lip smile that shows no teeth and reaches his eyes; a slow blink is the only movement in his face. Both women are turned into him and neither is being met. On his right, closer to the lens and so nearer the frame edge, a woman in a gold-sequined flapper dress with a matching beaded headband and a long string of pearls leans her whole upper body across the space at his shoulder, one bare arm sliding toward the crook of his elbow and not quite arriving, her face tipped up and in at him with wide bright eyes and a coaxing open mouth. On his far left, a woman in a deep crimson velvet gown with a plunging neckline and dark finger-wave hair stands a half-step back, chin lowered, eyes fixed on his profile with quiet admiration, her fingertips resting on the bar rail beside her. Every seductive line of their bodies converges on him; every line of his bearing refuses the convergence — shoulders level, torso facing front, not one degree of his attention turned. The pearls hang and swing slightly forward off her collarbone where she has pitched inward, catching the light on their lower curve. He is a bright warm figure against an art deco interior: a pale zinc-topped bar running left to right behind the group, tall mirrored panels and stepped brass inlay behind it, small tables in soft focus deep in the room. A row of low tungsten lamps above the bar is the only light source, its warm amber falling on the tops of his shoulders, the crown of his hair, the flat of his vest and the sequins of the gold dress, leaving the undersides of chins, the folds of the crimson velvet and the far corners of the room in sooty shadow; the mirror behind throws blurred, dimmer duplicates of the three figures. The palette is committed to warm gold, deep crimson, aged brass, cream shirt and near-black shadow, with the cool grey of the zinc bar the one quiet note. Behind the polite glitter of the room the mood is dry and immaculate — unbothered, faintly wicked.

The Boy Who Lived in Style!

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