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Prompts on PixAI are public by default, but creators can hide them on any artwork they publish. The creator of this one chose to, so the words used to generate the image stay private โ€” only they can see them. Hiding a prompt doesn't change anything else: the artwork is still public, and you can like, comment on and share it as usual.
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Tsubaki.3 Flash - AI Model cover image

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Tsubaki.3 Flash
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two women, yuri, first kiss, kissing, lips meeting, large breasts, cleavage, crimson satin cocktail dress, spaghetti straps, low-cut neckline, long mahogany hair, loose wavy hair, black lace bodycon dress, sleeveless, scalloped hem, blonde hair, high ponytail, from side, profile, close-up, cowboy shot, leaning forward, head tilt, eyes closed, blush, one hand on cheek, hand on waist, fingers curled in hair, night interior, warm lamp light, intimate, tender A close-up side profile, both women in view from the chest up, faces turned toward each other at the center of the frame. On the left, the mahogany-haired woman leans in first, chin tilting up, her long loose waves falling forward over her near shoulder and brushing the other woman's collarbone; her left hand rises to cup the blonde's jaw, thumb resting along the cheekbone, fingers spread behind the ear. Her crimson satin dress straps sit on her shoulders, the low neckline dipping as she leans, satin catching a soft sheen along the upper curve of her bust. On the right, the blonde leans in to meet her, high ponytail pulled taut at the crown with the tail arcing back behind her shoulder, a few loose strands at the temple; her right hand rests flat on the mahogany-haired woman's waist above the satin, fingers slightly curled into the fabric, drawing her closer; her black lace bodycon dress hugs her bust and torso, the scalloped hem below the frame line. Their lips meet at the center, just touching, the kiss at its first instant -- mouths soft and closed, the seam of contact a small point of pressure. Both have their eyes closed, lashes lowered, brows faintly drawn; a warm blush spreads across both cheeks and the tips of their ears. Noses nearly brushing, a sliver of gap between their faces below the lips. Warm lamp light from the upper left rakes across their faces, glinting on the blonde's ponytail and the satin's fold lines, and casting a soft double shadow of their joined profiles onto the dark wall behind; the right side of the frame falls into deep warm shadow, and the only light source is that lamp, its pool ending in darkness beyond their shoulders. Palette: crimson, black lace, warm amber skin tones, mahogany and honey-blonde hair against a near-black ground. The satin's sheen and the matte lace read as distinct surfaces in the same light. Quiet, tender.
damjin ch
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2girl, tickling, ((tickling)), three-quarter angle, from side, slim woman, long brown hair, red strapless dress, strapless, arms tied behind her head, arms up, bound wrists, laughing, open mouth, squirming, arched back, closed eyes, tears of laughter, slim mature woman, deep tan, long dark hair, wavy hair, black sleeveless dress, thin spaghetti straps, hotel room, bed, indoor, both hands, armpits, dominant, from below, close-up body, cowboy shot A three-quarter angle view from slightly below, the camera set at the foot of a hotel bed so the two women read diagonally across the frame: the slim woman with long brown hair sits pushed back against the upholstered headboard, her red strapless dress creased across her lap where she has drawn her knees up, the fabric's straight top edge sitting flat at her chest with nothing over her shoulders; her arms are raised and bent back behind her head, both wrists crossed and held together behind her neck by a dark cord wound twice around them, elbows flared wide so her armpits are open and turned up to the light. She is laughing, head tipped back against the headboard, mouth wide open, eyes squeezed shut with a bright bead of laughter-tears at the outer corner, her whole torso racked into a squirming twist โ€” one shoulder driven up toward her ear, hips slid sideways over the duvet, one heel skidding a fold of the covers into a ridge under her calf. The slim mature woman kneels over her on the mattress, deep-tanned arms and shoulders dark against the white bedlinen, her black sleeveless dress with thin spaghetti straps cutting narrow lines over sun-browned shoulders, long dark hair falling in soft sweeping curves down one side of her neck and forward over her collarbone as she leans in; both her hands are buried in the other woman's raised armpits, fingertips curled and digging, thumbs braced on the front of the ribcage, her weight on one knee with the other foot tucked under her, her chin lowered, a small pleased half-smile at one corner of her mouth, eyes fixed on the tickled woman's face to watch every flinch. Behind them the hotel room falls away: a padded headboard, a bedside lamp with a warm shade, a framed picture hung slightly crooked above it, the far wall in shadow, the drawn curtain edge letting a thin blade of afternoon daylight across the duvet. The lamp is the near light source, warm and low from the left, laying a soft gold edge along the tickler's forearm and the tickled woman's raised throat while the right side of the bed sinks into brown shadow; the daylight stripe catches only the upward-facing rumple of the duvet, and the crumpled linen throws a blurred shadow that wobbles with every squirm. Palette held to the red of the dress, black of the other, deep tan skin, and the cream-and-umber of the room. Playful, helpless laughter.
tklr
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Avatar image of tklr
2girl, tickling, ((tickling)), three-quarter angle, from side, slim woman, long brown hair, red strapless dress, strapless, arms tied behind her head, arms up, bound wrists, laughing, open mouth, squirming, arched back, closed eyes, tears of laughter, slim mature woman, deep tan, long dark hair, wavy hair, black sleeveless dress, thin spaghetti straps, hotel room, bed, indoor, both hands, armpits, dominant, from below, close-up body, cowboy shot A three-quarter angle view from slightly below, the camera set at the foot of a hotel bed so the two women read diagonally across the frame: the slim woman with long brown hair sits pushed back against the upholstered headboard, her red strapless dress creased across her lap where she has drawn her knees up, the fabric's straight top edge sitting flat at her chest with nothing over her shoulders; her arms are raised and bent back behind her head, both wrists crossed and held together behind her neck by a dark cord wound twice around them, elbows flared wide so her armpits are open and turned up to the light. She is laughing, head tipped back against the headboard, mouth wide open, eyes squeezed shut with a bright bead of laughter-tears at the outer corner, her whole torso racked into a squirming twist โ€” one shoulder driven up toward her ear, hips slid sideways over the duvet, one heel skidding a fold of the covers into a ridge under her calf. The slim mature woman kneels over her on the mattress, deep-tanned arms and shoulders dark against the white bedlinen, her black sleeveless dress with thin spaghetti straps cutting narrow lines over sun-browned shoulders, long dark hair falling in soft sweeping curves down one side of her neck and forward over her collarbone as she leans in; both her hands are buried in the other woman's raised armpits, fingertips curled and digging, thumbs braced on the front of the ribcage, her weight on one knee with the other foot tucked under her, her chin lowered, a small pleased half-smile at one corner of her mouth, eyes fixed on the tickled woman's face to watch every flinch. Behind them the hotel room falls away: a padded headboard, a bedside lamp with a warm shade, a framed picture hung slightly crooked above it, the far wall in shadow, the drawn curtain edge letting a thin blade of afternoon daylight across the duvet. The lamp is the near light source, warm and low from the left, laying a soft gold edge along the tickler's forearm and the tickled woman's raised throat while the right side of the bed sinks into brown shadow; the daylight stripe catches only the upward-facing rumple of the duvet, and the crumpled linen throws a blurred shadow that wobbles with every squirm. Palette held to the red of the dress, black of the other, deep tan skin, and the cream-and-umber of the room. Playful, helpless laughter.
tklr

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