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Khăn giấy AI Art & Prompts

Explore the trending 187 Khăn giấy artworks

AI artwork
pd
character: bakugou_katsuki, midoriya_izuku 1boy, solo, bakugou katsuki, blonde hair, spiked hair, red eyes, crying, crying loudly, streaming tears, tears, wet face, blotchy face, red nose, ugly crying, closed mouth, clenched teeth, silent, too upset to speak, airline cabin, airplane interior, window seat, looking down, hunched over, shoulders shaking, hands gripping knees, tissue box on lap, blowing nose, holding tissue to nose, honk, wet, congested, thought bubble, midoriya izuku, green hair, green eyes, memory, profile, from side, cowboy shot, day, overcast light through window, muted palette, dieselpunk no, realistic no, cel shaded Viewed from the side in a cramped economy cabin, one blonde-haired young man in a bare black undershirt and black pants sits jammed into a window seat, hunched forward so his spiky blonde hair nearly brushes the seatback in front of him, both elbows on his knees, both hands gripping a crumpled tissue box that rests across his thighs; his face is turned three-quarters away from the cabin toward the window, tears sliding down his cheeks in continuous threads, catching the flat grey daylight pouring through the oval window, his chin tucked, mouth shut tight with the jaw clenched so hard the muscle jumps, eyes squeezed half-shut and streaming, nostrils red and shiny from weeping — no speech bubble anywhere, he says nothing, the silence is the point. From the seat cushion beneath him a slight compression is visible where his weight sinks, and his shoulders tremble with each ragged silent breath. Floating above and behind his head, a cloud-shaped thought bubble with a scalloped border is tethered by three small ascending circles toward his temple; inside it, rendered in full colour and clear cut, a green-haired young man in a green bodysuit stands facing forward with a worried, earnest expression, arms a little out, as though speaking to Bakugou from inside his own head; the bubble sits high in the frame, its lower curve overlapping the top of the headrest, and no one in the cabin but Bakugou sees it. In the empty cabin, rows of blue-grey seats stretch away in perspective behind him, all vacant, tray tables up, overhead bins shut, the aisle floor catching a dull strip of window light; the only light source is the overcast sky through that one window, cool and low, laying a rectangular highlight across Bakugou's cheekbone, the tissue box, and the near edge of the seat, leaving the rest of the cabin in soft shadow with no bright patches. Palette of cool greys, navy seat fabric and the blonde and green that are the only saturated notes. In the next beat his hands crush the tissue up to his face and he blows with a huge wet honking blast — a squashed, crumpled tissue pressed over his nose and mouth, cheeks puffed, eyes shut hard, and beside his nose a bold jagged onomatopoeia in thick black brush lettering reading "HONK" with a wet spray of small droplets arcing toward the window, droplets catching the window light. Quiet grief, absurdly tender.
Princess Diani The FNAF Gal 2000
AI artwork
pd
character: bakugou_katsuki 1boy, solo, bakugou_katsuki, blonde spiked short hair, red eyes, hunched forward, shoulders drawn up, head tilted down, eyes squeezed shut mid-sneeze, open mouth, nose dripping, wet nose, flushed nose, flushed cheeks, dark circles under eyes, tired eyes, irritated, scowl, clenched teeth, sweat drop, shivering, hoodie, long sleeves, white t-shirt held up in both hands, crumpled cloth, tissue substitute, holding cloth to face, nose blowing, blowing nose, from side, cowboy shot, close-up, indoor, bedroom, dim lighting, cold blue palette, disheveled, A side-on cowboy shot of a single young man with short, sharply spiked blonde hair, seen from his left profile in a cramped bedroom, caught at the moment he presses a crumpled white T-shirt over his nose and mouth with both hands. His head is tipped down and forward, chin tucked toward his chest, the white cotton bunched in his fists so only his closed, swollen-lidded red eyes and a sliver of flushed cheek show above the cloth; his shoulders are hunched high so the collar of a loose grey hoodie rides up behind his neck, and he stands off-square, weight sunk into his back foot, one knee bent as if he has been standing there too long. His nose is raw and red at the tip and nostril from hours of this, both nostrils visible glistening before the cloth seals them, and a damp patch is already soaking through the fabric where it touches him. Both hands grip the shirt hard — knuckles pale, sleeves pushed to the forearm, the cloth compressing in a fist-shaped fold on either side of his face — and the hem of the shirt hangs down past his chin, crumpled and used. Behind him a rumpled unmade bed with a tangled duvet, a used tissue-littered nightstand with one small table lamp and a box of tissues, and a curtained window frame the left edge of the composition; the lamp on the nightstand is the only light source, spilling warm-bodied but weak light from behind his shoulder, which throws the side of his face facing us into shadow and lights only the damp shine on the white cloth and the edge of his nose. His spiked hair is flattened and dulled on one side from lying down, and loose strands stick to the temple with sweat; a faint shiver is visible in the raised hair at the back of his neck. The palette is narrowed to three values — cold blue-grey shadow across the hoodie and room, warm sickly amber from the single lamp, and the flat sterile white of the T-shirt, the brightest object in the frame. The whole image is closed at the torso, the bed cropped behind his hips, and the darkness beyond the lamp's small pool is absolute. Miserable and irritated.
Princess Diani The FNAF Gal 2000

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