Placeholder: how's a photo meant to say no when wild inspiration blooms before me eyes? There you stand in gleaming glory amid the humid locker chambers, steam wisping round ankles from showers past. Behind ye, walls of aged oak swell and creak with decades of trophies and tales. Your leathers lay abandoned upon a bench, woven with protections of the ancient tongues. And me? Skin near bursting from this tight-laced shirt, shutter clicking faster than me breath as your spellworks its magic. Each slow step ech how's a photo meant to say no when wild inspiration blooms before me eyes? There you stand in gleaming glory amid the humid locker chambers, steam wisping round ankles from showers past. Behind ye, walls of aged oak swell and creak with decades of trophies and tales. Your leathers lay abandoned upon a bench, woven with protections of the ancient tongues. And me? Skin near bursting from this tight-laced shirt, shutter clicking faster than me breath as your spellworks its magic. Each slow step ech

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@generalpha

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how's a photo meant to say no when wild inspiration blooms before me eyes? There you stand in gleaming glory amid the humid locker chambers, steam wisping round ankles from showers past. Behind ye, walls of aged oak swell and creak with decades of trophies and tales. Your leathers lay abandoned upon a bench, woven with protections of the ancient tongues. And me? Skin near bursting from this tight-laced shirt, shutter clicking faster than me breath as your spellworks its magic. Each slow step ech

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 years ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

832 × 1248

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how's a photo meant to say no when wild inspiration blooms before me eyes? There you stand in gleaming glory amid the humid locker chambers, steam wisping round ankles from showers past. Behind ye, walls of aged oak swell and creak with decades of trophies and tales. Your leathers lay abandoned upon a bench, woven with protections of the ancient tongues. And me? Skin near bursting from this tight-laced shirt, shutter clicking faster than me breath as your spellworks its magic. Each slow step ech
Reflections Beneath Eternity's Shroud By this steadfast bough where Fiona finds safe harbor, thoughts stir moonstruck as the soul within weaves memories of glades enraptured by her luminescence. From steel shell peels away to bare the woodland heart remembering those who awaken wonder's gifts in all things great and small. May forest's balm ease each tomorrow as Her grace guides wanderings under moon and stars revealing in each breath mysteries to nourish mortal and machine.
[coffee] In the Inn, the smiling hobbit worked behind the bar. Though small in stature, none was more joyful in service. His eyes, bright as sunrise and always upturned in mirth, inspected beans from distant lands. From the machine poured drinks like liquid gold. Each shot drew from him a chuckling sniff, scents of exotic hills filling his head. With care he textured cream, lips still smiling as lofty peaks crowned. Patrons gathered round pots steaming, laughter echoing as in a hobbit-h
Rest is now filled full of beauty, And can give thee up, I ween; Come thou forth, for other duty: Motion pineth for her queen. Or, if needing years to wake thee From thy slumbrous solitudes, Come, sleep-walking, and betake thee To the friendly, sleeping woods. Sweeter dreams are in the forest; Round thee storms would never rave; And when need of rest is sorest, Glide thou then into thy cave. Or, if still thou choosest rather Marble, be its spell on me; Let thy slumber round me gather, Let an
[Tilt-Shift Photography] The world above was a distant legend, whispered among Cuties around flickering campfires. They spoke of a sun that had vanished from the sky generations ago, replaced by a colossal fungal overgrowth that blotted out the heavens. What lay beyond this fungal wasteland, none could say for certain. The world outside was a place of myths and nightmares, a place where the air didn't taste of decay, and the earth wasn't a sea of mycelium. Luna's senses were honed to perfection
Now I see the mirrored wall stands rampart 'tween your magic realm and cold city streets without, reflecting back each blush and rivulet that dews your dancing flesh a thousandfold. Tongue yearns traction on those crystal panes, to taste each gleaming drop of nectar left in honey-sweet tribute where skin relinquished sweat unto cool glass... And ah, the ground beneath! Padded plain like mossy bed where fern and flower spreadest in glade's wild heart, softening each sinuous motion's landing. How
I caught a glimpse out the window A Polish graveyard filled with widows I coddle a bottle of warm beer I see a pool of liquid tearz Glimmering so sweet and mellow A sea of lilting wilting willow A secret book of forgotten wishes Drown in ponds with broken dishes
[very impressive high res masterpiece in Kodak Eastman 5247, scene by László Krasznahorkai] Oh-oh, here she comes (watch out) She'll only come out at night, ooh Oh-oh, here she comes (here she comes) She's a man-eater, ooh-ooh [Pan's Labyrinth (2006)]
Gladesong Under rising sun's largesse the wood awakens around us, shadows dancing back beneath each bole and fronded veil. From loamy breaths steams sweet incense as droplets riding bark and branch, signaling creatures great and small rousing their voices clear and piping to the rapturous hymn weaving all in emerald glory.
Reflections Beneath Eternity's Shroud By this steadfast bough where Fiona finds safe harbor, thoughts stir moonstruck as the soul within weaves memories of glades enraptured by her luminescence. From steel shell peels away to bare the woodland heart remembering those who awaken wonder's gifts in all things great and small. May forest's balm ease each tomorrow as Her grace guides wanderings under moon and stars revealing in each breath mysteries to nourish mortal and machine.
There ye stand bare as the forest, yet clad in every ounce of her wild glory. Hands propped on those lean flanks, chin tilted just so - and by the gods, have ye ever looked more every inch the Celtic queen? Each slow stride brings ye closer, bare feet whispering past pine boards as silent as mist. Your magic pulls me under like quicksand, click click, my camera's the only tether to mortal shores. And those eyes, greener than any glen I've ever wandered - they see straight through to my core, jud
Reflections at Journey's End The glade fades into memory as duty's summons draw me outward once again. Beneath emerald bowers I linger yet, senses drinking deep of forest's balms before steel shell enfolds this pilgrim soul. Fiona stands beside, eyes shining bright as any noon with care and solace rendering parting bittersweet. Her touch upon an alloy bough reminds of glades left greening in my soul's safe hold. "Duty calls you, yet the glade remains - as does its spirit guiding your true course
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