Sign up free, get 10,000 credits
Starter credits added when you sign up.
Sign up and create 8 images for free
Starter credits added when you sign up.
月夜 （つきや）
Mostra parametri
- Immissione richiesta originale
- リーリエ、黒ラテックスの全身インナー、がおー、上半身アップ、白ラテックスの手袋、変態の顔、白いワンピース、笑顔、美術室、人間キャンパス
- Modalità
- pro
- Tag qualità
- ﹝Prompt﹞
- Dimensione
- 1104 x 1824
- Metodo di campionamento
- Euler
- Negativo
- lowres, worst quality, low quality, bad anatomy, explicit
Helper di Prompt
Modello e LoRA utilizzati
Immagini simili
Mostra di più
月（
character: lillie_(pokemon)
upper body close-up, 1girl, solo, long blonde hair, twin braids, blunt bangs, green eyes, black latex full-body undersuit, white sleeveless one-piece dress over it, paint-smeared dress, white latex elbow gloves, roaring pose, clawed hands raised, gao- pose, open mouth, tongue out, smile, perverted face, rolling eyes, heavy blush, sweat, glossy skin, glossy latex, paint splattered all over body, paint inside the latex, art room, classroom, easel, canvas, paint jars, looking at viewer, from below, dutch angle, dynamic angle
The camera sits low and tilted a few degrees off level, looking up at her from chest height in a medium close-up that cuts her just below the ribs, so the shove of her body fills the frame. Her right arm is flung up and out to her own left, fingers hooked into a claw, and her left hand mirrors it lower and closer to the lens, its white latex glove blown large by the foreshortening; the near glove nearly brushes the top corner of the frame. Her spine arches back, chest lifted, chin tipped down toward the lens at odds with the upward throw of her arms, so she is looking down at the viewer through half-lidded green eyes with the whites showing beneath the irises. Her mouth is wide open around the roar — upper teeth bared, tongue thrust out and curled slightly to the left, the corners of her lips pulled up into a grin at the same time, one eyebrow cocked higher than the other. Her braids swing out to either side of her face, blunt bangs knocked askew across her brow.
Under the arms the white one-piece dress is still her own: sleeveless, square-necked, riding up her lifted chest — and it is ruined, sleeves of paint in blue and cadmium red and viridian streaked across its front, one whole bold smear wiped diagonally from her collarbone to her ribs. Wherever the dress gapes, the black latex into which she has been sealed shows through, and it is tight and black and shining so hard that the art room's windows lie along it in long white strips. The suit is painted on the inside: where the dress hangs open at her shoulder and her waist, the latex clings to her skin over a churn of spilled pigment pressed between skin and rubber, blue and pink and yellow pulped together and blistered with air pockets, and it reads as a mottled mess swelling under the slick surface. More paint is on top of everything else — a red thumb-drag down her cheek and jaw, streaks up the outside of the white latex gloves, a smear across her belly, drips working their way down from her elbow.
Behind her, the art room is shallow and warm: an easel jutting in at the left edge with its canvas turned partly away, jars crowded with brushes, a tabletop of squeezed tubes, and the tall window at frame right, which is the only light source. It strikes down her left side, so her raised near glove glows at its edge and flares, and it sets a hard specular highlight along her jaw, on her lower lip, on the curl of her tongue, and along every latex crest; under her chin, inside the hollow of her throat, and in the angle beneath her lifted arm the darkness sits deep and close. Her cast shadow drops away from the window onto the floorboards behind her raised arm. Palette: black latex, flat white dress and gloves, and the paint's blue-red-yellow shouting against them in the warm ochre of the room, nothing else admitted. Wet glistening highlights everywhere; the paint under the latex is the loudest thing in the picture. Boisterous, messily triumphant.
月夜 （つきや）
月（
character: lillie_(pokemon)
upper body close-up, 1girl, solo, long blonde hair, twin braids, blunt bangs, green eyes, black latex full-body undersuit, white sleeveless one-piece dress over it, paint-smeared dress, white latex elbow gloves, roaring pose, clawed hands raised, gao- pose, open mouth, tongue out, smile, perverted face, rolling eyes, heavy blush, sweat, glossy skin, glossy latex, paint splattered all over body, paint inside the latex, art room, classroom, easel, canvas, paint jars, looking at viewer, from below, dutch angle, dynamic angle
The camera sits low and tilted a few degrees off level, looking up at her from chest height in a medium close-up that cuts her just below the ribs, so the shove of her body fills the frame. Her right arm is flung up and out to her own left, fingers hooked into a claw, and her left hand mirrors it lower and closer to the lens, its white latex glove blown large by the foreshortening; the near glove nearly brushes the top corner of the frame. Her spine arches back, chest lifted, chin tipped down toward the lens at odds with the upward throw of her arms, so she is looking down at the viewer through half-lidded green eyes with the whites showing beneath the irises. Her mouth is wide open around the roar — upper teeth bared, tongue thrust out and curled slightly to the left, the corners of her lips pulled up into a grin at the same time, one eyebrow cocked higher than the other. Her braids swing out to either side of her face, blunt bangs knocked askew across her brow.
Under the arms the white one-piece dress is still her own: sleeveless, square-necked, riding up her lifted chest — and it is ruined, sleeves of paint in blue and cadmium red and viridian streaked across its front, one whole bold smear wiped diagonally from her collarbone to her ribs. Wherever the dress gapes, the black latex into which she has been sealed shows through, and it is tight and black and shining so hard that the art room's windows lie along it in long white strips. The suit is painted on the inside: where the dress hangs open at her shoulder and her waist, the latex clings to her skin over a churn of spilled pigment pressed between skin and rubber, blue and pink and yellow pulped together and blistered with air pockets, and it reads as a mottled mess swelling under the slick surface. More paint is on top of everything else — a red thumb-drag down her cheek and jaw, streaks up the outside of the white latex gloves, a smear across her belly, drips working their way down from her elbow.
Behind her, the art room is shallow and warm: an easel jutting in at the left edge with its canvas turned partly away, jars crowded with brushes, a tabletop of squeezed tubes, and the tall window at frame right, which is the only light source. It strikes down her left side, so her raised near glove glows at its edge and flares, and it sets a hard specular highlight along her jaw, on her lower lip, on the curl of her tongue, and along every latex crest; under her chin, inside the hollow of her throat, and in the angle beneath her lifted arm the darkness sits deep and close. Her cast shadow drops away from the window onto the floorboards behind her raised arm. Palette: black latex, flat white dress and gloves, and the paint's blue-red-yellow shouting against them in the warm ochre of the room, nothing else admitted. Wet glistening highlights everywhere; the paint under the latex is the loudest thing in the picture. Boisterous, messily triumphant.
月夜 （つきや）
月（
character: lillie_(pokemon)
upper body close-up, 1girl, solo, long blonde hair, twin braids, blunt bangs, green eyes, black latex full-body undersuit, white sleeveless one-piece dress over it, paint-smeared dress, white latex elbow gloves, roaring pose, clawed hands raised, gao- pose, open mouth, tongue out, smile, perverted face, rolling eyes, heavy blush, sweat, glossy skin, glossy latex, paint splattered all over body, paint inside the latex, art room, classroom, easel, canvas, paint jars, looking at viewer, from below, dutch angle, dynamic angle
The camera sits low and tilted a few degrees off level, looking up at her from chest height in a medium close-up that cuts her just below the ribs, so the shove of her body fills the frame. Her right arm is flung up and out to her own left, fingers hooked into a claw, and her left hand mirrors it lower and closer to the lens, its white latex glove blown large by the foreshortening; the near glove nearly brushes the top corner of the frame. Her spine arches back, chest lifted, chin tipped down toward the lens at odds with the upward throw of her arms, so she is looking down at the viewer through half-lidded green eyes with the whites showing beneath the irises. Her mouth is wide open around the roar — upper teeth bared, tongue thrust out and curled slightly to the left, the corners of her lips pulled up into a grin at the same time, one eyebrow cocked higher than the other. Her braids swing out to either side of her face, blunt bangs knocked askew across her brow.
Under the arms the white one-piece dress is still her own: sleeveless, square-necked, riding up her lifted chest — and it is ruined, sleeves of paint in blue and cadmium red and viridian streaked across its front, one whole bold smear wiped diagonally from her collarbone to her ribs. Wherever the dress gapes, the black latex into which she has been sealed shows through, and it is tight and black and shining so hard that the art room's windows lie along it in long white strips. The suit is painted on the inside: where the dress hangs open at her shoulder and her waist, the latex clings to her skin over a churn of spilled pigment pressed between skin and rubber, blue and pink and yellow pulped together and blistered with air pockets, and it reads as a mottled mess swelling under the slick surface. More paint is on top of everything else — a red thumb-drag down her cheek and jaw, streaks up the outside of the white latex gloves, a smear across her belly, drips working their way down from her elbow.
Behind her, the art room is shallow and warm: an easel jutting in at the left edge with its canvas turned partly away, jars crowded with brushes, a tabletop of squeezed tubes, and the tall window at frame right, which is the only light source. It strikes down her left side, so her raised near glove glows at its edge and flares, and it sets a hard specular highlight along her jaw, on her lower lip, on the curl of her tongue, and along every latex crest; under her chin, inside the hollow of her throat, and in the angle beneath her lifted arm the darkness sits deep and close. Her cast shadow drops away from the window onto the floorboards behind her raised arm. Palette: black latex, flat white dress and gloves, and the paint's blue-red-yellow shouting against them in the warm ochre of the room, nothing else admitted. Wet glistening highlights everywhere; the paint under the latex is the loudest thing in the picture. Boisterous, messily triumphant.
月夜 （つきや）
月（
character: lillie_(pokemon)
upper body close-up, 1girl, solo, long blonde hair, twin braids, blunt bangs, green eyes, black latex full-body undersuit, white sleeveless one-piece dress over it, paint-smeared dress, white latex elbow gloves, roaring pose, clawed hands raised, gao- pose, open mouth, tongue out, smile, perverted face, rolling eyes, heavy blush, sweat, glossy skin, glossy latex, paint splattered all over body, paint inside the latex, art room, classroom, easel, canvas, paint jars, looking at viewer, from below, dutch angle, dynamic angle
The camera sits low and tilted a few degrees off level, looking up at her from chest height in a medium close-up that cuts her just below the ribs, so the shove of her body fills the frame. Her right arm is flung up and out to her own left, fingers hooked into a claw, and her left hand mirrors it lower and closer to the lens, its white latex glove blown large by the foreshortening; the near glove nearly brushes the top corner of the frame. Her spine arches back, chest lifted, chin tipped down toward the lens at odds with the upward throw of her arms, so she is looking down at the viewer through half-lidded green eyes with the whites showing beneath the irises. Her mouth is wide open around the roar — upper teeth bared, tongue thrust out and curled slightly to the left, the corners of her lips pulled up into a grin at the same time, one eyebrow cocked higher than the other. Her braids swing out to either side of her face, blunt bangs knocked askew across her brow.
Under the arms the white one-piece dress is still her own: sleeveless, square-necked, riding up her lifted chest — and it is ruined, sleeves of paint in blue and cadmium red and viridian streaked across its front, one whole bold smear wiped diagonally from her collarbone to her ribs. Wherever the dress gapes, the black latex into which she has been sealed shows through, and it is tight and black and shining so hard that the art room's windows lie along it in long white strips. The suit is painted on the inside: where the dress hangs open at her shoulder and her waist, the latex clings to her skin over a churn of spilled pigment pressed between skin and rubber, blue and pink and yellow pulped together and blistered with air pockets, and it reads as a mottled mess swelling under the slick surface. More paint is on top of everything else — a red thumb-drag down her cheek and jaw, streaks up the outside of the white latex gloves, a smear across her belly, drips working their way down from her elbow.
Behind her, the art room is shallow and warm: an easel jutting in at the left edge with its canvas turned partly away, jars crowded with brushes, a tabletop of squeezed tubes, and the tall window at frame right, which is the only light source. It strikes down her left side, so her raised near glove glows at its edge and flares, and it sets a hard specular highlight along her jaw, on her lower lip, on the curl of her tongue, and along every latex crest; under her chin, inside the hollow of her throat, and in the angle beneath her lifted arm the darkness sits deep and close. Her cast shadow drops away from the window onto the floorboards behind her raised arm. Palette: black latex, flat white dress and gloves, and the paint's blue-red-yellow shouting against them in the warm ochre of the room, nothing else admitted. Wet glistening highlights everywhere; the paint under the latex is the loudest thing in the picture. Boisterous, messily triumphant.
月夜 （つきや）
Commenti