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Justin G
Arte de IA de Justin G en PixAI. Creado con Tsubaki.3 Flash.
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- Prompt original
- adult women,black hair, hime cut, light brown skin ponytail, golden eyes,freckles,,, medium breasts,, ,wrestling beautiful satin black and whitesport bra black and white pleated miniskirt ,from side, close-up, with sponsors,wrestling ring, horny,seductive smile, , at turnbuckle ,from infront, shes dizzy,, ,skinny,medium breasts,cowboy shot, ,lumine look arrogant, boxing gloves, ,only upper body,school gym, realistic,
- Modo
- flash
- Tamaño
- 1104 x 1824
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m
1girl, solo, adult, dark skin, light brown skin, black hair, hime cut, ponytail, golden eyes, freckles, skinny, realistic, white and black sports bra, sponsor logos on bra, white and black pleated miniskirt, very short miniskirt, panties visible, boxing gloves, fists up, guard stance, bruises, covered in bruises, battered, tired, exhausted, shivering, trembling, sweat, looking at viewer, facing viewer, from front, cowboy shot, boxing ring, corner of ring, corner post, ring ropes, fitness gym, sandbags in background, bright room, fighting viewer, losing fight, standing, half-closed eyes, parted lips, heavy breathing, motion lines, sweat drop,
A front-on cowboy shot cuts the girl at mid-thigh with the ring's padded turnbuckle post running vertically behind her left shoulder: an adult woman with light brown skin stands wedged into the corner of a boxing ring, and the two ropes she is caught between cross the frame in front of her hips and just above her collarbone, pressing a shallow groove into her white and black sports bra where the top rope rides against it. Her black hair is slicked back into a hime cut — the blunt side locks pasted flat to her freckled cheeks with sweat, the long ponytail swinging heavy down past her right shoulder blade — and a few strands have come loose and stick to her forehead. Her golden eyes, half-lidded and filmed with exhaustion, fix directly on the viewer; her mouth hangs slightly open and her shoulders lift and drop with each fast breath. Both boxing gloves are up in a guard that has lost its shape: the left glove floats a little lower than the right, and the raised forearms tremble visibly, small shakes travelling from the wrists into the gloves. A raw red graze sits on her cheekbone, and one eye is narrowed against the sting of it. Bruises cover her forearms and thighs in violet and ochre patches, with one darker bruise climbing over her right hip just above the waistband of the white and black pleated miniskirt; the pleats are crushed and one side is hiked high, its hem so short that a sliver of white panties shows at her inner thigh where she grips the skirt's edge with her gloved hand.
Bright overhead gym lighting pours down from the ceiling, so her brow and collarbones are lit hard and cool while a soft shadow sits under her chin, beneath her fists and in the folds of the skirt; a brighter rim catches the top of the rope and the sweat on her skin. Behind her the gym opens into a bright room of pale concrete and steel: a row of heavy sandbags hangs from a rack in the mid-ground, their leather bellies scuffed and dull against the bright wall, and a blurred sparring ring and open floor recede behind them. The ring ropes cross in the foreground in front of her hips, one of them visibly trembling in a slow rhythmic shiver as she stands against it. Muted palette of bruise-purple, ochre, white, black and cool gym grey, with her light brown skin and golden eyes as the warmest points; high-fidelity lifelike textures and naturalistic lighting. Battered, unsteady.
Myso
jg
1girl, solo, adult woman, dark skin, freckles across cheeks and nose, black hair, hime cut, blunt bangs, side locks, high ponytail, golden eyes, nervous, shy, blush, looking at viewer, walking towards viewer, standing, from above, upper body only, white and black sports bra, black trim, matching pleated miniskirt, red boxing gloves, boxing gloves raised, boxing ring, ring ropes, bar interior, crowd, cheering, throwing money, banknotes in the air, realistic, depth of field,
The camera looks steeply down from above the ring apron, so the shot holds only her upper body: shoulders, chest, gloved hands and the top of the ponytail fill the frame while the ring floor and the floor of the bar open out below and behind her. She is caught mid-stride walking towards the viewer, torso turned a few degrees off the lens, right shoulder forward, weight riding on her forward foot so the pleats of the black-and-white miniskirt swing past the bottom edge of the crop and the blunt hime-cut bangs sit level across her brow while the high ponytail drags back and to one side with the step. Her chin is tucked and lifted at once — golden eyes turned up at the lens, brows drawn together and raised at the inner ends, a closed nervous mouth, a warm flush sitting high across her freckled cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Both red boxing gloves are held in tight against her collarbones, the near glove pressed against the top edge of the white and black sports bra, the far glove half-tucked under her chin, elbows pinched in; her shoulders are drawn up. Below and around the ring, on the dark bar floor beyond the ropes, a crowd in shadow throws fists of banknotes up towards her, and the paper notes caught in the light spin and flutter, some of them hanging in the air between the top rope and the lens. The light is a single hard overhead ring lamp: it strikes the crown of her head, the tops of her shoulders and the upper faces of the gloves, glints on the gold of her eyes, and drops her jawline, the hollow of her throat and the underside of the ponytail into shadow, casting a tight shadow of her head down onto her own chest. The palette is black and white on her body, warm red at the gloves, warm amber-gold in the eyes, and a murky brown-black bar behind with the pale flash of thrown bills. Photographic realism, shallow depth of field so the crowd and the far ropes soften into bokeh with the bar's dim bottles and back-bar glow reduced to blurred shapes, fine film-like grain, 85mm lens compression. Quiet, bashful, exposed.
Justin G
v4
1girl, solo, black hair, hime cut, ponytail, golden eyes, freckles, light brown skin, black eyeliner, skinny, medium breasts, black and white satin sports bra, black and white skin-tight shorts, sponsor logos on clothing, bandages around fists, bruises, blood, blood on face, bandage, fists up, fighting stance, serious, nervous, dizzy, horny, sweat, blush, half-closed eyes, heavy breathing, parted lips, cowboy shot, close-up, from in front, upper body, boxing ring, underground fighting arena, old pub, wooden walls, cheering crowd, crowd, depth of field, looking at viewer,
A close cowboy shot framed dead-on from in front, high in the ring so only her upper body fills the frame from the top of the head to the hips just below the shorts waistband, the ropes and the crowd pushed into a soft blur behind her. She stands square to the camera at the centre of a dirt-worn boxing ring: a lean, skinny fighter with light brown skin, medium breasts held under a black and white satin sports bra cut high across the ribs and matching skin-tight shorts, both panels printed with small sponsor patches, and both of her hands are up, fists bandaged in off-white wraps that cross her knuckles in a tight lattice. Her black hair is pulled into a high ponytail that swings behind her left shoulder, the hime cut's straight fringe chopped sharp across the brow and the side locks falling in two clean blades along her jaw; sweat pastes a few strands to her temple. Black eyeliner smudged and winging out from wide golden eyes, freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose and high on both cheeks, a split lip bleeding a thin red line down her chin, a darkening bruise swelling shut the outer corner of her left eye and a purple bloom along her right jaw. She is dizzy — the ring tilts behind her, her weight sways to her left hip so the stance goes slightly crooked, her eyebrows pinch and lift in the middle as she tries to focus, and she is plainly nervous, holding a serious, hard-edged set to her mouth while the strain of it shows in the tight line of her jaw. Her tongue pushes brief and pink to the corner of her bleeding lip in a heavy, flustered breath, cheeks flushed dark under the bruises, gaze locked at the viewer over the ridge of her raised knuckle, her chin dipped just behind her fists. The satin of her sports bra catches a hard sheen across the bust, matte where the bandage-wrapped hands hover in front of it; the light is one high, hot overhead lamp over the ring, a warm amber key from directly above that stacks shadow under her collarbones and the shelf of her breasts, glints off the sweat on her shoulder, and turns the blood on her lip wet and dark. Around her the arena drops away into brown darkness lit only by scattered lantern light: unplaned wooden walls of an old pub, dark plank ceiling, blurred rows of shouting faces crowding the ropes, some with mouths open mid-cheer, their whites and teeth catching the lamp, all rendered soft and slightly out of focus so the fighter stays the only sharp thing in the frame. Palette of amber, old wood brown, black and off-white satin and raw red blood. Gritty, hyper-detailed skin texture, every freckle, sweat bead and raised bruise rendered photographically, lifelike fabric and bandage materials under the single practical light. Desperate and charged.
v4r.justin#0
v4
1girl, solo, black hair, hime cut, ponytail, golden eyes, freckles, light brown skin, black eyeliner, skinny, medium breasts, black and white satin sports bra, black and white skin-tight shorts, sponsor logos on clothing, bandages around fists, bruises, blood, blood on face, bandage, fists up, fighting stance, serious, nervous, dizzy, horny, sweat, blush, half-closed eyes, heavy breathing, parted lips, cowboy shot, close-up, from in front, upper body, boxing ring, underground fighting arena, old pub, wooden walls, cheering crowd, crowd, depth of field, looking at viewer,
A close cowboy shot framed dead-on from in front, high in the ring so only her upper body fills the frame from the top of the head to the hips just below the shorts waistband, the ropes and the crowd pushed into a soft blur behind her. She stands square to the camera at the centre of a dirt-worn boxing ring: a lean, skinny fighter with light brown skin, medium breasts held under a black and white satin sports bra cut high across the ribs and matching skin-tight shorts, both panels printed with small sponsor patches, and both of her hands are up, fists bandaged in off-white wraps that cross her knuckles in a tight lattice. Her black hair is pulled into a high ponytail that swings behind her left shoulder, the hime cut's straight fringe chopped sharp across the brow and the side locks falling in two clean blades along her jaw; sweat pastes a few strands to her temple. Black eyeliner smudged and winging out from wide golden eyes, freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose and high on both cheeks, a split lip bleeding a thin red line down her chin, a darkening bruise swelling shut the outer corner of her left eye and a purple bloom along her right jaw. She is dizzy — the ring tilts behind her, her weight sways to her left hip so the stance goes slightly crooked, her eyebrows pinch and lift in the middle as she tries to focus, and she is plainly nervous, holding a serious, hard-edged set to her mouth while the strain of it shows in the tight line of her jaw. Her tongue pushes brief and pink to the corner of her bleeding lip in a heavy, flustered breath, cheeks flushed dark under the bruises, gaze locked at the viewer over the ridge of her raised knuckle, her chin dipped just behind her fists. The satin of her sports bra catches a hard sheen across the bust, matte where the bandage-wrapped hands hover in front of it; the light is one high, hot overhead lamp over the ring, a warm amber key from directly above that stacks shadow under her collarbones and the shelf of her breasts, glints off the sweat on her shoulder, and turns the blood on her lip wet and dark. Around her the arena drops away into brown darkness lit only by scattered lantern light: unplaned wooden walls of an old pub, dark plank ceiling, blurred rows of shouting faces crowding the ropes, some with mouths open mid-cheer, their whites and teeth catching the lamp, all rendered soft and slightly out of focus so the fighter stays the only sharp thing in the frame. Palette of amber, old wood brown, black and off-white satin and raw red blood. Gritty, hyper-detailed skin texture, every freckle, sweat bead and raised bruise rendered photographically, lifelike fabric and bandage materials under the single practical light. Desperate and charged.
v4r.justin#0
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