Placeholder: Open Journal With Colored Pencil Drawings Of Punk woman [Burroughs' collage style] Open Journal With Colored Pencil Drawings Of Punk woman [Burroughs' collage style]

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@generalpha

Prompt

Open Journal With Colored Pencil Drawings Of Punk woman [Burroughs' collage style]

statue, 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

2 months ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

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Open Journal With Colored Pencil Drawings Of Punk woman and collages
Masamune Shirow style African Kawaii an oversized spiral notebook page
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[art by Jean-Paul Riopelle] she's eaten so many chillies she's on fire
Tank Girl wore a patchwork of punk-rock attire, each piece a symbol of her fierce individuality. A tattered leather jacket, adorned with an eclectic assortment of pins and patches, clung to her lithe frame. Fishnet stockings ran beneath the cutoff shorts that defied the scorching heat. Her combat boots were worn and scuffed, bearing witness to countless adventures across the wastelands. In her grip, she held a weapon that was both her ally and her declaration of defiance—a hefty, modified firear
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Tattooed arms sliced through a lightning-fast solo, fingers dancing nimbly across frets. Whenever Sabrina screeched a verse, Samantha echoed her anguished cries through her wailing notes. The crowd swayed hypnotically around them. But Samantha remained the blazing nexus at the eye of the storm. Eyes closed, she threw herself into each power chord with primal abandon. When the final crushing riff hit, Samantha unleashed a screaming solo to shake the rafters. Fingers blurred as her small form was
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Tank Girl wore a patchwork of punk-rock attire, each piece a symbol of her fierce individuality. A tattered leather jacket, adorned with an eclectic assortment of pins and patches, clung to her lithe frame. Fishnet stockings ran beneath the cutoff shorts that defied the scorching heat. Her combat boots were worn and scuffed, bearing witness to countless adventures across the wastelands. In her grip, she held a weapon that was both her ally and her declaration of defiance—a hefty, modified firear
Tank Girl wore a patchwork of punk-rock attire, each piece a symbol of her fierce individuality. A tattered leather jacket, adorned with an eclectic assortment of pins and patches, clung to her lithe frame. Fishnet stockings ran beneath the cutoff shorts that defied the scorching heat. Her combat boots were worn and scuffed, bearing witness to countless adventures across the wastelands. In her grip, she held a weapon that was both her ally and her declaration of defiance—a hefty, modified firear
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Tank Girl, never one to shy away from pushing boundaries, continued her audacious display of defiance. She holstered her modified firearm briefly on her hip, then, with a sly grin, brought it up to her lips, sensuously licking the barrel in a provocative manner. Her actions were both a testament to her irreverent spirit and a calculated challenge to anyone who might underestimate her. As the camera captured the daring act, the metal of the gun glistened under the unforgiving desert sun, making
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