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AI artwork featuring #Hololive Production, #Takane Lui and #Takane Lui

Takane Lui, Takane Lui

#Hololive Production #Takane Lui #Takane Lui

Veröffentlicht: Nov 9, 2026

N.O.AM

character: takane_lui 1girl, solo, takane_lui, pink hair, short hair, hair between eyes, hairband, blue eyes, head wings, white shirt, long sleeves, necktie, black high-waist shorts, black fingerless gloves, pantyhose, super huge breasts, super huge ass, curvy figure, wide hips, thick thighs, from below, low angle, cowboy shot, standing, contrapposto, weight on one leg, hand on own hip, other hand adjusting necktie, head tilted down, looking down at viewer, half-closed eyes, smug, lopsided smirk, raised eyebrow, wind, shirt clinging to chest, shorts taut across hips, dutch angle, The camera looks up from hip height at a sharp low angle, tilted a few degrees off level so the verticals of the corridor lean; the frame is a cowboy shot cropped just below the knee, and because the lens sits low and close her body rises away from it in strong foreshortening -- the chest and hips nearest the glass, the head small and high at the top of the frame. She stands in a narrow service corridor of bare concrete, one hip cocked hard against a cold steel door frame: the left hip is the contact point, the shorts fabric compressing and creasing flat where it presses the frame's edge, her left leg straight and load-bearing, the right knee bent and the right foot set forward on the ball of the foot. Her right hand rests flat on her own hip, fingers spread and pressing into the waistband of the high-waist shorts, stretching the fabric sideways so it pulls tight across the seat and the seam runs taut; her left hand is up at her throat, two gloved fingers hooked into the knot of the necktie, tugging it a half-inch loose. The white shirt is buttoned but strained, the placket bowing open between buttons over the bust and the sleeves pushed to the elbow, the black fingerless gloves leaving her fingertips bare where they pinch the tie. Her chin is tipped down toward the lens, blue eyes looking down at the viewer from under the short pink fringe, one brow arched higher than the other, one corner of her mouth pulled up in a lopsided smirk, the other eye slightly narrowed. Her hairband and the paired wings at her temples are lit from behind and read as a pale silhouette; the rest of the pink hair is short and swings against her jaw. The only light source is a fluorescent tube overhead and slightly behind her, so it rims the top of her shoulders, the crown of her head and the outer curve of her hip against the door frame while her face falls into soft shadow with the eyes catching the tube as two small bright points; the corridor beyond her is dim and empty. The palette is restrained to cold concrete grey, the white of the shirt, and the black of shorts, gloves, tie and pantyhose, with the pink of her hair the single warm note. A thin draft moves through the corridor: the loosened end of the necktie lifts and points away from her throat, and the hem of the shirt flutters against her side -- effortlessly smug.

Takane Lui, Takane Lui

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