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AI artwork featuring #Shirakami Fubuki and #Hololive Production

Shirakami Fubuki, Hololive Production

Pubblicato il Nov 10, 2026

character: shirakami_fubuki from below, extreme low angle, worm's-eye view, looking up from beneath the breasts, 2girls, 1boy, size difference, giantess, breast squash, breast press, breasts engulfing, completely covered, pinned down, lying on back, dominant, excited expression, aroused, open mouth, tongue, blush, sweat, half-closed eyes, grin, fang, long white hair, ahoge, single braid, sidelocks, hair between eyes, aqua eyes, animal ears, fox ears, fluffy tail, roomwear, loungewear, oversized hoodie, baggy shorts, bare thighs, palm-sized man, tiny male, small man, full body weight, soft breasts deforming, breast deformation, squashed, body press, hand on ground, hair pooling, heavy shadow, warm interior light, night, bedroom, intimate, overwhelming The camera lies on the floor itself, aimed straight up: from the shadowed boards beneath her, the view climbs the underside of a body that fills the whole frame. A palm-sized man lies flat on his back on the floorboards at the bottom of the shot, arms flung wide, one leg bent, his whole body no longer than the width of a thumb; above him her soft chest comes down on him, the breasts pooling outward across the boards as they squash under her weight, their undercurves flattening into a wide soft shelf that closes over him, the man's chest, shoulders and hip disappearing entirely beneath the deformed mass, only his head and one spread hand still showing at the edge of the shadowed crease. Her full body weight rides on him: the flesh bulges sideways around his silhouette, the crease between the breasts presses down and flattens against the floorboards, no gap left between the soft mass and the boards except where his body displaces it. Above, she looms, propped on one forearm planted to the viewer's left, her other hand splayed flat on the boards beside his head so the fingertips are enormous beside his whole body. She leans her weight forward into the press, chin tipped down, glaring straight down at him past the shelf of her chest: aqua eyes half-lidded and glittering, cheeks flushed hot, mouth open in a sharp wet grin with one small fang catching the light, a strand of sweat along her jaw. Long white hair falls loose in heavy curtains on both sides of her face, a single braid swinging forward past her shoulder, the sidelocks hanging straight down toward the viewer; her fox ears tilt forward, pricked and quivering, and her fluffy tail rises behind her into the dark. She is in loungewear — an oversized pale hoodie with the sleeves shoved up and the front soft and creased, baggy shorts, bare thighs, the fabric pooling and wrinkling as her weight settles. Light comes only from a single low lamp off frame to the right: it rakes across the underside of her body, warm and low, so the tops of the breasts and her shoulders sink into shadow while a soft rim catches the slope of each breast, the ends of the white hair, and the bridge of her nose; the light is blocked by her mass, and the man lies inside her shadow, lit only by a thin warm sliver that leaks past her hip. Cast shadow from her forearm angles across the boards beside him. Palette of dusk-warm amber, flushed skin tones, cool clean white hair and pale fabric against the deep brown dark of the room, nothing else admitted. The pressed-floorboards creak, dust leaps along their seams where her weight settles. Claustrophobic and overwhelming, heated and predatory.

Shirakami Fubuki, Hololive Production

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