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- Original Prompt
- (masterpiece, best quality, highres:1.2),(pure flat color:1.6), (cel shading:1.4), crisp clean lineart, bold black outlines, (no shading, flat lighting:1.5),(1girl, original character, mature female, long light green hair, messy hair, golden eyes, beautiful face), (smug smile, half-closed eyes, looking down at viewer:1.4),(1girl, solo focus:1.5), (standing on a podium:1.4),(tight racing suit:1.5), (zipper unzipped slightly, visible collarbone and cleavage:1.4), (wet clothes, champagne on body:1.5),(spraying a huge bottle of champagne:1.6), (champagne splashing, spray:1.3),(podium background, race track, crowd silhouettes, checkered flags:1.4),(perfect hands, delicate fingers holding the bottle:1.3)
- Mode
- flash
- Size
- 864 x 1152
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(masterpiece, best quality, highres:1.2), (pure flat color:1.6), (cel shading:1.4), crisp clean lineart, bold black outlines, (no shading, flat lighting:1.5), (1girl, solo focus:1.5), mature female, long light green hair, messy hair, golden eyes, beautiful face, (smug smile, half-closed eyes, looking down at viewer:1.4), (standing on a podium:1.4), (tight racing suit:1.5), (zipper unzipped slightly, visible collarbone and cleavage:1.4), (wet clothes, champagne on body:1.5), (spraying a huge bottle of champagne:1.6), (champagne splashing, spray:1.3), (podium background, race track, crowd silhouettes, checkered flags:1.4), (perfect hands, delicate fingers holding the bottle:1.3), from below, low angle, cowboy shot, standing on one leg, arm up, leaning back, looking down, head tilt, open mouth, grin, dynamic pose.
The camera sits low at the foot of the podium and stares almost straight up: seen from below, a single mature woman in a skin-tight racing suit stands high on the top step of a winner's podium, her body towering over the lens. Her weight is on her right leg, the left knee lifted and the left foot hooked on the podium's front edge so the pose reads as an off-balance victory stamp; her hips are cocked to her left, her torso twisted three-quarters toward the viewer while her chin tips sharply down, so her half-lidded golden eyes look straight down the length of her own body into the lens. Her long, messy light green hair is soaked and flung about by her own motion: strands stick to her cheek and throat, the rest sweeps outward and hangs in heavy wet clumps around her shoulders. A smug closed-lip smile pulls one corner of her mouth higher, one brow slightly arched, her lips parted just enough to show she has been shouting. The suit's zipper is pulled down a short way from the throat, opening a narrow V of fabric across her collarbones and the top of her chest, and the damp glossy suit clings to every contour, darker patches spreading where champagne has soaked into it.
Both arms are thrust up and away from the viewer; her delicate, flawlessly formed fingers wrap the neck of an oversized champagne bottle, its gold foil and dark glass foreshortened huge and near in the foreground because of the low angle. Her thumb is pressed hard into the cork's edge to break the seal, the bottle tipped so its mouth aims down and across the frame, and the champagne is caught in the instant of the burst: a wide fan of pale gold spray and clustered droplets blasts across the air beside her, some of it already crashing back over her shoulder, her chest and her stretched arms in bright streaks. The spray darkens her suit, beads up along her jaw and collarbone, and drips off the ends of her wet hair; the large near-camera droplets in the foreground are sharp single-variable physics, crisp-edged and rimmed with pale flat color, while the ones far behind her thin to tiny flat specks.
Behind and below her, the podium reads as stacked rectangular blocks in bold flat grey and red, with a broad dark strip of race track asphalt lying behind it and running off to the horizon. Crowd silhouettes are a row of flat black shapes massed at the barrier in the middle distance, and checkered flags hang from poles behind them, their squares drawn as clean hard-edged diamonds of white and black, slightly curled by the same breeze that carries the spray. Light is deliberately flat and frontal from a high, even, unspecified ring: every surface is filled as one uniform flat color, no gradients anywhere, the cel shading limited to a single hard-edged shadow tone per form plus a single crisp highlight tone, and the only motion-blurred element in the frame is the champagne spray. The palette is tightly rationed: pale gold and cream for the champagne and the bottle's foil, saturated red and grey for the podium, deep asphalt black and white for the track and the flags, and the woman's pale mint hair as the one cool note against all the warm gold, all bounded by bold black outlines. Triumphant, effortlessly superior.
HASSEN E
he
(masterpiece, best quality, highres:1.2), (pure flat color:1.6), (cel shading:1.4), crisp clean lineart, bold black outlines, (no shading, flat lighting:1.5), (1girl, solo focus:1.5), mature female, long light green hair, messy hair, golden eyes, beautiful face, (smug smile, half-closed eyes, looking down at viewer:1.4), (standing on a podium:1.4), (tight racing suit:1.5), (zipper unzipped slightly, visible collarbone and cleavage:1.4), (wet clothes, champagne on body:1.5), (spraying a huge bottle of champagne:1.6), (champagne splashing, spray:1.3), (podium background, race track, crowd silhouettes, checkered flags:1.4), (perfect hands, delicate fingers holding the bottle:1.3), from below, low angle, cowboy shot, standing on one leg, arm up, leaning back, looking down, head tilt, open mouth, grin, dynamic pose.
The camera sits low at the foot of the podium and stares almost straight up: seen from below, a single mature woman in a skin-tight racing suit stands high on the top step of a winner's podium, her body towering over the lens. Her weight is on her right leg, the left knee lifted and the left foot hooked on the podium's front edge so the pose reads as an off-balance victory stamp; her hips are cocked to her left, her torso twisted three-quarters toward the viewer while her chin tips sharply down, so her half-lidded golden eyes look straight down the length of her own body into the lens. Her long, messy light green hair is soaked and flung about by her own motion: strands stick to her cheek and throat, the rest sweeps outward and hangs in heavy wet clumps around her shoulders. A smug closed-lip smile pulls one corner of her mouth higher, one brow slightly arched, her lips parted just enough to show she has been shouting. The suit's zipper is pulled down a short way from the throat, opening a narrow V of fabric across her collarbones and the top of her chest, and the damp glossy suit clings to every contour, darker patches spreading where champagne has soaked into it.
Both arms are thrust up and away from the viewer; her delicate, flawlessly formed fingers wrap the neck of an oversized champagne bottle, its gold foil and dark glass foreshortened huge and near in the foreground because of the low angle. Her thumb is pressed hard into the cork's edge to break the seal, the bottle tipped so its mouth aims down and across the frame, and the champagne is caught in the instant of the burst: a wide fan of pale gold spray and clustered droplets blasts across the air beside her, some of it already crashing back over her shoulder, her chest and her stretched arms in bright streaks. The spray darkens her suit, beads up along her jaw and collarbone, and drips off the ends of her wet hair; the large near-camera droplets in the foreground are sharp single-variable physics, crisp-edged and rimmed with pale flat color, while the ones far behind her thin to tiny flat specks.
Behind and below her, the podium reads as stacked rectangular blocks in bold flat grey and red, with a broad dark strip of race track asphalt lying behind it and running off to the horizon. Crowd silhouettes are a row of flat black shapes massed at the barrier in the middle distance, and checkered flags hang from poles behind them, their squares drawn as clean hard-edged diamonds of white and black, slightly curled by the same breeze that carries the spray. Light is deliberately flat and frontal from a high, even, unspecified ring: every surface is filled as one uniform flat color, no gradients anywhere, the cel shading limited to a single hard-edged shadow tone per form plus a single crisp highlight tone, and the only motion-blurred element in the frame is the champagne spray. The palette is tightly rationed: pale gold and cream for the champagne and the bottle's foil, saturated red and grey for the podium, deep asphalt black and white for the track and the flags, and the woman's pale mint hair as the one cool note against all the warm gold, all bounded by bold black outlines. Triumphant, effortlessly superior.
HASSEN E
he
(masterpiece, best quality, highres:1.2), (pure flat color:1.6), (cel shading:1.4), crisp clean lineart, bold black outlines, (no shading, flat lighting:1.5), (1girl, solo focus:1.5), mature female, long light green hair, messy hair, golden eyes, beautiful face, (smug smile, half-closed eyes, looking down at viewer:1.4), (standing on a podium:1.4), (tight racing suit:1.5), (zipper unzipped slightly, visible collarbone and cleavage:1.4), (wet clothes, champagne on body:1.5), (spraying a huge bottle of champagne:1.6), (champagne splashing, spray:1.3), (podium background, race track, crowd silhouettes, checkered flags:1.4), (perfect hands, delicate fingers holding the bottle:1.3), from below, low angle, cowboy shot, standing on one leg, arm up, leaning back, looking down, head tilt, open mouth, grin, dynamic pose.
The camera sits low at the foot of the podium and stares almost straight up: seen from below, a single mature woman in a skin-tight racing suit stands high on the top step of a winner's podium, her body towering over the lens. Her weight is on her right leg, the left knee lifted and the left foot hooked on the podium's front edge so the pose reads as an off-balance victory stamp; her hips are cocked to her left, her torso twisted three-quarters toward the viewer while her chin tips sharply down, so her half-lidded golden eyes look straight down the length of her own body into the lens. Her long, messy light green hair is soaked and flung about by her own motion: strands stick to her cheek and throat, the rest sweeps outward and hangs in heavy wet clumps around her shoulders. A smug closed-lip smile pulls one corner of her mouth higher, one brow slightly arched, her lips parted just enough to show she has been shouting. The suit's zipper is pulled down a short way from the throat, opening a narrow V of fabric across her collarbones and the top of her chest, and the damp glossy suit clings to every contour, darker patches spreading where champagne has soaked into it.
Both arms are thrust up and away from the viewer; her delicate, flawlessly formed fingers wrap the neck of an oversized champagne bottle, its gold foil and dark glass foreshortened huge and near in the foreground because of the low angle. Her thumb is pressed hard into the cork's edge to break the seal, the bottle tipped so its mouth aims down and across the frame, and the champagne is caught in the instant of the burst: a wide fan of pale gold spray and clustered droplets blasts across the air beside her, some of it already crashing back over her shoulder, her chest and her stretched arms in bright streaks. The spray darkens her suit, beads up along her jaw and collarbone, and drips off the ends of her wet hair; the large near-camera droplets in the foreground are sharp single-variable physics, crisp-edged and rimmed with pale flat color, while the ones far behind her thin to tiny flat specks.
Behind and below her, the podium reads as stacked rectangular blocks in bold flat grey and red, with a broad dark strip of race track asphalt lying behind it and running off to the horizon. Crowd silhouettes are a row of flat black shapes massed at the barrier in the middle distance, and checkered flags hang from poles behind them, their squares drawn as clean hard-edged diamonds of white and black, slightly curled by the same breeze that carries the spray. Light is deliberately flat and frontal from a high, even, unspecified ring: every surface is filled as one uniform flat color, no gradients anywhere, the cel shading limited to a single hard-edged shadow tone per form plus a single crisp highlight tone, and the only motion-blurred element in the frame is the champagne spray. The palette is tightly rationed: pale gold and cream for the champagne and the bottle's foil, saturated red and grey for the podium, deep asphalt black and white for the track and the flags, and the woman's pale mint hair as the one cool note against all the warm gold, all bounded by bold black outlines. Triumphant, effortlessly superior.
HASSEN E
k1
character: c.c., copyright: code_geass
1girl, solo, (1girl, solo focus:1.5), mature female, long light green hair, very long hair, messy hair, golden eyes, beautiful face, (lazy expression, exhausted, half-closed eyes, panting slightly, sweat on face and neck:1.5), sweat on skin, (visible cleavage, sweat on skin:1.4), black tight tank top, (black tight tank top underneath, wet clothes clinging to body:1.5), racing suit half removed, racing suit tied around waist, (racing suit half removed, tied around waist:1.6), (sitting on a tire barrier:1.4), sitting, legs crossed at the knee, (POV looking up at her:1.3), from below, foreshortening, looking down at viewer, (wiping sweat with a white towel:1.3), white towel, holding towel to cheek, (holding a racing helmet on her lap:1.4), racing helmet, black helmet, gloved-less bare hands, (perfect hands, delicate fingers:1.3), (race track background, pit lane, blurred racing car, checkered flag silhouettes:1.4), pit lane, race track, blurred racing car, checkered flag, (sunset lighting:1.2), orange sky, (pure flat color:1.6), (cel shading:1.4), crisp clean lineart, bold black outlines, (no shading, flat lighting:1.5), (masterpiece, best quality, highres:1.2),
The camera sits at knee height just off the nose of the tire barrier, tilted a few degrees up, so the barrier's stacked black rubber looms across the bottom of the frame and the woman above it is foreshortened โ her thigh and the helmet's curved crown nearest the lens, her tired face at the top of the composition against a broad band of flat orange sunset sky, her torso turning away from camera in a lazy contrapposto with her weight sunk onto her left hip and her right thigh crossed over the left knee. She is a mature woman with a full curvy adult build, very long light green hair tumbling in loose messy strands past her shoulders and sticking in damp wisps to her temple and neck, golden eyes half-hooded, one brow faintly lifted, lips parted an inch mid-breath, a slow pant lifting her chest, a sheen of sweat standing on her cheeks, jaw, throat and collarbones and running in a thin line down her sternum. The racing suit is peeled off her shoulders and arms and knotted in a heavy bundle at her waist, sleeves hanging down over the rubber; the black tank top beneath is soaked through, its fabric clinging to her chest and ribs in stretched flat patches, wicking darker where it pulls, exposing her cleavage and the damp hollow of her throat. Her elbows rest close to her body: the left forearm lifted so the white towel is pressed flat against her cheek and jaw, her fingers curled delicately in the terry loop, wrist bent; the right forearm lies across the black shell of the racing helmet cradled on her lap, her hand curved over the visor rim, fingertips resting light and articulate against the chin bar. Her half-closed golden eyes travel down the lens line to the viewer, chin tipped down, lids heavy with an exhausted, unimpressed softness, no smile. Behind her the pit lane recedes in flat overlapping shapes: white-and-black garage gantry edges, a blur of a racing car smeared into a single red-and-white streak low in the frame, rectangular checkered flag silhouettes standing stiff against the orange sky, all rendered in the same clean unshaded planes. Light comes only from the low sunset behind her right shoulder, but it is pure flat lighting โ the sky a solid orange sheet, no gradients, no cast shadow on her skin, the rim of the helmet and the towel's fold picked out in narrative black outline rather than tone, the whole figure and background filled with solid unbroken colour separated by crisp black lines. Flat and weary, sun-baked and easy.
ki11 yukii
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