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dewdd

AI art by dewdd on PixAI. Made with Tsubaki.3 Flash.

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1girl, solo, upper body, close-up, blonde hair, middle part, two hair strands in face, blue eyes, medium breasts, satin black and blue sports bra, pleated miniskirt matching her bra, boxing gloves, beaten up, exhausted, swollen eye, swollen cheek, blood, leaning on turnbuckle, boxing ring corner, old dirty boxing ring, old wooden bar, from below, looking down at viewer, half-closed eyes, parted lips, sweat, disheveled hair Shot from below, close in and tight on her upper body, so the ring corner rears up over the lens: she is wedged into the turnbuckle of an old dirty boxing ring, her back and shoulder blades pressed flat against the padded corner post, the top rope cutting a taut horizontal band across the top of the frame just behind her shoulders. The camera sits low at chest height, tilting up past her; below the frame edge, only the tops of her thighs in the matching pleated black-and-blue miniskirt are hinted at, the rest of her body cropped away. She wears a satin black and blue sports bra, its sheen catching the light in a soft gloss along the upper cup seams, medium breasts rising with each slow breath; her boxing gloves are heavy and scuffed and rest against the ropes, one hooked over the middle rope at her hip, the other hanging loose at her side, knuckles drooping. Her blonde hair is parted down the middle, two sweat-damp strands stuck to her face, one clinging to her swollen cheek and one across her brow, the rest of the hair lank and mussed. Her left eye is swollen almost shut, puffy and discolored, and her cheekbone below it is hot and bloated; a thin trickle of blood runs from the corner of her mouth down her chin, and a smear of blood is drying along her swollen cheek. She is beaten up and exhausted: her head tips back against the post, half-closed eyes looking down the tilt at the viewer without defiance, lips parted in a labored breath, jaw slack. Behind her the old wooden bar falls into deep shadow, its dusty bottle shelf and dark scarred counter blurred but readable, the boxing ring's frayed canvas and grimy ropes in the midground. A single overhead bulb is the only light source, throwing warm top light that strikes her brow, the sheen of her satin bra and the swell of her swollen cheek, leaving her throat and the underside of her jaw in shadow; the ropes cast thin hard shadows across her collarbone. A bead of sweat rolls down her temple and hangs on her jaw, catching the bulb light. Quiet exhaustion, bruised and tender.
Show Parameters
Original Prompt
blonde,middle part, blue eyes,stwo strains in der face, ,, medium breasts,,satin black and blue sports bra and pleated miniskirt matching her bra standing at the turnbuckle of a old and dirty boxing ring ,beaten up and exhausted,swolen eye and cheek,only upper body,boxing gloves, in an old wooden bar, blood,
Mode
flash
Size
768 x 1280
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Model & LoRA used

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AI artwork
d
1girl, solo, upper body, close-up, blonde hair, middle part, two hair strands in face, blue eyes, medium breasts, satin black and blue sports bra, pleated miniskirt matching her bra, boxing gloves, beaten up, exhausted, swollen eye, swollen cheek, blood, leaning on turnbuckle, boxing ring corner, old dirty boxing ring, old wooden bar, from below, looking down at viewer, half-closed eyes, parted lips, sweat, disheveled hair Shot from below, close in and tight on her upper body, so the ring corner rears up over the lens: she is wedged into the turnbuckle of an old dirty boxing ring, her back and shoulder blades pressed flat against the padded corner post, the top rope cutting a taut horizontal band across the top of the frame just behind her shoulders. The camera sits low at chest height, tilting up past her; below the frame edge, only the tops of her thighs in the matching pleated black-and-blue miniskirt are hinted at, the rest of her body cropped away. She wears a satin black and blue sports bra, its sheen catching the light in a soft gloss along the upper cup seams, medium breasts rising with each slow breath; her boxing gloves are heavy and scuffed and rest against the ropes, one hooked over the middle rope at her hip, the other hanging loose at her side, knuckles drooping. Her blonde hair is parted down the middle, two sweat-damp strands stuck to her face, one clinging to her swollen cheek and one across her brow, the rest of the hair lank and mussed. Her left eye is swollen almost shut, puffy and discolored, and her cheekbone below it is hot and bloated; a thin trickle of blood runs from the corner of her mouth down her chin, and a smear of blood is drying along her swollen cheek. She is beaten up and exhausted: her head tips back against the post, half-closed eyes looking down the tilt at the viewer without defiance, lips parted in a labored breath, jaw slack. Behind her the old wooden bar falls into deep shadow, its dusty bottle shelf and dark scarred counter blurred but readable, the boxing ring's frayed canvas and grimy ropes in the midground. A single overhead bulb is the only light source, throwing warm top light that strikes her brow, the sheen of her satin bra and the swell of her swollen cheek, leaving her throat and the underside of her jaw in shadow; the ropes cast thin hard shadows across her collarbone. A bead of sweat rolls down her temple and hangs on her jaw, catching the bulb light. Quiet exhaustion, bruised and tender.
dewdd
AI artwork
d
1girl, solo, upper body, close-up, blonde hair, middle part, two hair strands in face, blue eyes, medium breasts, satin black and blue sports bra, pleated miniskirt matching her bra, boxing gloves, beaten up, exhausted, swollen eye, swollen cheek, blood, leaning on turnbuckle, boxing ring corner, old dirty boxing ring, old wooden bar, from below, looking down at viewer, half-closed eyes, parted lips, sweat, disheveled hair Shot from below, close in and tight on her upper body, so the ring corner rears up over the lens: she is wedged into the turnbuckle of an old dirty boxing ring, her back and shoulder blades pressed flat against the padded corner post, the top rope cutting a taut horizontal band across the top of the frame just behind her shoulders. The camera sits low at chest height, tilting up past her; below the frame edge, only the tops of her thighs in the matching pleated black-and-blue miniskirt are hinted at, the rest of her body cropped away. She wears a satin black and blue sports bra, its sheen catching the light in a soft gloss along the upper cup seams, medium breasts rising with each slow breath; her boxing gloves are heavy and scuffed and rest against the ropes, one hooked over the middle rope at her hip, the other hanging loose at her side, knuckles drooping. Her blonde hair is parted down the middle, two sweat-damp strands stuck to her face, one clinging to her swollen cheek and one across her brow, the rest of the hair lank and mussed. Her left eye is swollen almost shut, puffy and discolored, and her cheekbone below it is hot and bloated; a thin trickle of blood runs from the corner of her mouth down her chin, and a smear of blood is drying along her swollen cheek. She is beaten up and exhausted: her head tips back against the post, half-closed eyes looking down the tilt at the viewer without defiance, lips parted in a labored breath, jaw slack. Behind her the old wooden bar falls into deep shadow, its dusty bottle shelf and dark scarred counter blurred but readable, the boxing ring's frayed canvas and grimy ropes in the midground. A single overhead bulb is the only light source, throwing warm top light that strikes her brow, the sheen of her satin bra and the swell of her swollen cheek, leaving her throat and the underside of her jaw in shadow; the ropes cast thin hard shadows across her collarbone. A bead of sweat rolls down her temple and hangs on her jaw, catching the bulb light. Quiet exhaustion, bruised and tender.
dewdd
AI artwork
d
1girl, solo, adult woman, blonde hair, middle part, two face-framing strands, blue eyes, medium breasts, satin sports bra, black and blue sports bra, pleated miniskirt, matching miniskirt, boxing gloves, boxing ring, turnbuckle, leaning on ropes, old dirty boxing ring, beach, blood, beaten up, exhausted, swollen eye, swollen cheek, bruise, sweat, upper body, cowboy shot, close-up, from below, looking down, from side, dutch angle, parted lips, half-closed eyes, sea, sand, daylight, glare Low three-quarter view from below the ring apron, the camera tilted a few degrees off level, cropping her at the hips so only her upper body fills the vertical frame: a grown blonde woman stands wedged into the far turnbuckle of an old, filthy boxing ring, both forearms draped over the top rope so the rope presses a long groove into the satin of her sleeves, her left hip cocked against the padded corner post, one knee sagging inward, all her weight on that leg. Her hair is parted dead-center and pulled back off her forehead, two loose strands fallen free to hang along either cheekbone; the sea wind lifts them and they drift across her face and back again. The satin sports bra is black with blue side panels, its sheen breaking into a wet highlight along her ribs; the pleated miniskirt matches it exactly, black with a blue underlayer, its pleats crumpled where her hip digs into the post. Blue eyes, one of them already swelling shut, the lid puffed and purpled, the other eye open and staring away past the ropes at nothing. Her right cheek is swollen fat and hot-red, the skin split at the cheekbone with a thin wet line of blood running from it down to the corner of her mouth and one more dried streak crusted under her nose. Boxing gloves — black with blue cuffs — hang loosely at her sides, one of them still hooked by its wrist strap over the middle rope, knuckles scuffed and dusty. Mouth open, jaw slack, breathing hard; her chest rises against the satin. The ring is a wreck: canvas stained and grey with old blood and sand, ropes frayed to white fibers, the turnbuckle pad split and shedding foam, and the whole structure sits half-buried where the sand has drifted up over the bottom step. Beyond and beneath it the beach spreads out — pale sand, a flat low tide, the ocean a hard band of blue under a bleached noon sky. Sunlight comes from high and to her right, blazing off the satin and off the sweat on her shoulder, throwing the shadow of the ropes in four long stripes across her chest and leaving the far side of her face dark; the sand under the ring glows so brightly it bounces light back up into her chin. Palette held to black, blue, blonde, hot red blood and the bleached sand and sky. Beaten and utterly spent.
dewdd
AI artwork
f
character: takarada_rikka 1girl, solo, takarada_rikka, black hair, long hair, hair bow, blue eyes, exhausted, tired, beaten up, bruised, bandage on cheek, sweat, half-closed eyes, looking down, leaning at turnbuckle, upper body, white and blue sports bra, boxing gloves, large boxing gloves, sitting on ring apron, old dirty boxing ring, frayed ropes, torn canvas, bar setting, dim bar interior, bottles on shelves, from side, cowboy shot, side profile, low camera, warm low key lighting, cinematic From the side at ring height, camera low and set just outside the ropes so the near corner post cuts the frame's left edge. Only her upper body is in the shot: she sits slumped against the turnbuckle pad, spine curved, one shoulder jammed into the post, and the bottom of the frame cuts her at the ribs — canvas, ropes and ring apron below the cut, nothing of her lower body shown. Her long black hair is dark with sweat and hangs loose, sticking to her temple and collarbone, the hair bow at the back of her head crushed between her skull and the pad, one strand fallen across her cheek. Sweat beads at her hairline and runs down her neck onto the blue strap of the white and blue sports bra; the elastic is damp and dark where it sits against her skin, white panels smudged grey with dust, blue trim scuffed. Her face is drawn and grey-tinged under the eyes, lids heavy, eyes half-closed and aimed down and to the side at nothing — the swollen cheekbone and the split lip catch a dull sheen, dried blood dark at the corner of her mouth, a strip of tape taped over one brow. Both hands hang from her wrists, the boxing gloves enormous and split at the seams, one glove resting on her own forearm, the other dangling over the second rope, and the rope sags under the weight so the parallel rows no longer run true beside her. The ring is old and filthy: grey canvas stained and torn at the edge of the frame, ropes frayed and wrapped in cracking tape, the corner pad split and shedding yellowed foam behind her back. Behind and below the ropes a dim bar recedes into warm brown murk — bottles in rows on a back shelf, a single bulb, a low ceiling losing itself in shadow. The bare bulb above the ring's far side is the strongest light: it strikes the top of her head, the wet shine of her shoulder and the gloves, and everything below and behind her falls into a heavy warm brown darkness with no fill. Palette held to sweat-sheened skin, white and blue, dull black hair, grimy off-white canvas and tobacco-bar browns. Quiet defeat.
faitan

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