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

3328 × 4992

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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
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
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
In a surreal twist, Maria Magdalena encounters an ancient soldier, a spectral figure who seeks shelter in an abandoned home. Their encounter in this twilight zone reveals the depth of her inner turmoil and the resilience of her spirit. But alas, the pressure of deadlines and the demands of the art world threaten to overwhelm Maria Magdalena. The constant need for something new and different drives her to the edge. She battles with the voices in her head, struggling to find her unique voice amids
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
As she sits there, the weight of her victories and the burden of her quest pressing upon her shoulders, she feels the ancient whispers of the forgotten throne room reaching out to her. The spirits of the fallen kings and queens who once ruled this land seem to stir in the shadows, their presence a haunting reminder of the sacrifices made in the name of honor and glory.
In a surreal twist, Maria Magdalena encounters an ancient soldier, a spectral figure who seeks shelter in an abandoned home. Their encounter in this twilight zone reveals the depth of her inner turmoil and the resilience of her spirit. But alas, the pressure of deadlines and the demands of the art world threaten to overwhelm Maria Magdalena. The constant need for something new and different drives her to the edge. She battles with the voices in her head, struggling to find her unique voice amids
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
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
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
With a deep breath, dearie Fiona let herself be embraced by the water's embrace, her form becoming one with its liquid embrace. The feeling was ethereal, as if the lake itself was a conduit to another realm. She glided with a fluid grace, her movements a reflection of the dance she and Deery had shared in the forest. As the water enveloped her, Fiona's hair fanned out like strands of moonlit silver, creating an otherworldly halo around her. Her skin seemed to shimmer with a natural radiance
Megan's reflection in the mirror no longer mirrored her own appearance. Instead, she beheld a vision of herself, radiant and alluring, draped in gossamer fabric that clung to her curves. Her eyes sparkled with an otherworldly glow, and an aura of undeniable sensuality enveloped her being. The talisman's power surged through Megan, awakening a newfound confidence within her. She embraced the transformative energy, reveling in the liberation it offered. With every step she took, her movements beca
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