Placeholder: And who's to blame you for wanting rest, after leading this body and soul such merry dances through steam and shadow? My hands have scarce stopped fluttering over shutter and film in fevered efforts to lock your magic onto light. But the equipment lays idle now as I watch your steady breaths, heaving bosom stilled at last beneath clinging sleeves. One hand trails idle upon the padded planks, tracing shapes and sigils that stir memories of moonlit revels beneath the trees. And though wild joys ma And who's to blame you for wanting rest, after leading this body and soul such merry dances through steam and shadow? My hands have scarce stopped fluttering over shutter and film in fevered efforts to lock your magic onto light. But the equipment lays idle now as I watch your steady breaths, heaving bosom stilled at last beneath clinging sleeves. One hand trails idle upon the padded planks, tracing shapes and sigils that stir memories of moonlit revels beneath the trees. And though wild joys ma

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@generalpha

Prompt

And who's to blame you for wanting rest, after leading this body and soul such merry dances through steam and shadow? My hands have scarce stopped fluttering over shutter and film in fevered efforts to lock your magic onto light. But the equipment lays idle now as I watch your steady breaths, heaving bosom stilled at last beneath clinging sleeves. One hand trails idle upon the padded planks, tracing shapes and sigils that stir memories of moonlit revels beneath the trees. And though wild joys ma

doubles, twins, entangled fingers, Worst Quality, ugly, ugly face, watermarks, undetailed, unrealistic, double limbs, worst hands, worst body, Disfigured, double, twin, dialog, book, multiple fingers, deformed, deformity, ugliness, poorly drawn face, extra_limb, extra limbs, bad hands, wrong hands, poorly drawn hands, messy drawing, cropped head, bad anatomy, lowres, extra digit, fewer digit, worst quality, low quality, jpeg artifacts, watermark, missing fingers, cropped, poorly drawn

1 year ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

832 × 1248

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And who's to blame you for wanting rest, after leading this body and soul such merry dances through steam and shadow? My hands have scarce stopped fluttering over shutter and film in fevered efforts to lock your magic onto light. But the equipment lays idle now as I watch your steady breaths, heaving bosom stilled at last beneath clinging sleeves. One hand trails idle upon the padded planks, tracing shapes and sigils that stir memories of moonlit revels beneath the trees. And though wild joys ma
A disturbing party takes place at the Colorado Lounge in the sinister Overlook Hotel. The event is a ghostly reenactment of a glamorous 1920s party, filled with long-dead guests dressed in elegant attire. A ghostly celebration where all the characters are "costumed", not in typical costumes, but as people who are no longer what they appear to be: everyone there is dead. The guests are masked by the appearance of life, when in reality they are apparitions from the hotel's dark past. Thus, the par
Standing at the corner of the room, a wistful figure emerges from the shadows. Dressed in a vintage attire, their eyes reflect a mix of longing and fond memories. With a tender smile, they hold a love letter close to their heart, lost in the bittersweet reverie of past romance.
[Rosamund Pike] As the twin suns sank below the horizon, Rosamund allowed her ragged body some respite. Perched high in the tree, she watched flickering firelight dance across the encroaching shadows of night. Its golden glow played gently across her features, casting dancing forms upon the damp bark. Her haggard complexion was etched with tracks of exhaustion and defiance in equal measure. Yet in the fire's realm, for now she seemed at peace. Wrapped snugly in the nexu's black pelt, its fur exu
So through steam-hung billows I watch your flowing form's lithe journey unto sanctum more secluded yet - the locker room, where ladies do disrobe in private bower. My eyes peer reverent through mist veil as your dance carries lithe self past padded benches, peeling off each clinging layer 'neath which sacred valleys and flowering knolls emerge nude and glistening for air's soft tongue. Soon your gym garb joins the sweat-damp heap upon the floor, leaving pale curves and secret clefts painted sole
Before the mirror she stands in faded cotton underthings, old but comfortable. This is intimacy's barrier, where innocence disguises give way to shadowed truth.Slowly, the last vestiges of perceived maturity shed away. First go stockings in crisp white, sliding up shapely calves and securing above the knee. Her reflection watches, expression unchanging, as if through someone else's eyes.Next, a simple short-sleeved blouse, buttons slipping closed almost by their own accord. The starchy collar fe
Before the mirror she stands in faded cotton underthings, old but comfortable. This is intimacy's barrier, where innocence disguises give way to shadowed truth.Slowly, the last vestiges of perceived maturity shed away. First go stockings in crisp white, sliding up shapely calves and securing above the knee. Her reflection watches, expression unchanging, as if through someone else's eyes.Next, a simple short-sleeved blouse, buttons slipping closed almost by their own accord. The starchy collar fe
In shadows, figure stands, wistful and serene, Vintage attire, eyes reflecting love's lost scene. Love letters flutter, whispers of passion's plea, Gramophone's warmth amplifies melodies free. Soft petals descend, a dance of memories unseen. Bittersweet reverie, past romances held dear, Nostalgia's embrace, a tender smile sincere. Time stands still, as hearts find solace and reflection, Valentine's Nostalgia, an eternal connection. In a single frame, love's essence captured here.
And who's to blame you for wanting rest, after leading this body and soul such merry dances through steam and shadow? My hands have scarce stopped fluttering over shutter and film in fevered efforts to lock your magic onto light. But the equipment lays idle now as I watch your steady breaths, heaving bosom stilled at last beneath clinging sleeves. One hand trails idle upon the padded planks, tracing shapes and sigils that stir memories of moonlit revels beneath the trees. And though wild joys ma
So through steam-hung billows I watch your flowing form's lithe journey unto sanctum more secluded yet - the locker room, where ladies do disrobe in private bower. My eyes peer reverent through mist veil as your dance carries lithe self past padded benches, peeling off each clinging layer 'neath which sacred valleys and flowering knolls emerge nude and glistening for air's soft tongue. Soon your gym garb joins the sweat-damp heap upon the floor, leaving pale curves and secret clefts painted sole
In shadows' embrace, two figures stand side by side, Vintage attire adorning them, love's secrets they confide. Eyes meet, reflecting a mix of longing and devotion, Love letters flutter, whispering tales of deep emotion. Gramophone's melodies weave a duet, hearts unified. Soft petals descend, like blessings from above, Creating an aura of romance, a testament to their love. Bittersweet reverie shared, past memories held dear, Nostalgia's tender touch, drawing them near. In this single frame, the
In shadows, figure stands, wistful and serene, Vintage attire, eyes reflecting love's lost scene. Love letters flutter, whispers of passion's plea, Gramophone's warmth amplifies melodies free. Soft petals descend, a dance of memories unseen. Bittersweet reverie, past romances held dear, Nostalgia's embrace, a tender smile sincere. Time stands still, as hearts find solace and reflection, Valentine's Nostalgia, an eternal connection. In a single frame, love's essence captured here.
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