UNF
“.....”But...why?

seen from Egypt
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seen from United States
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seen from Australia
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UNF
“.....”But...why?
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10. My muse pulls your muse’s hair
It wasn’t a rough pull or tug at the young man’s hair--but rather a brief tease of Uzoma’s fingers in stark white strands. He really wasn’t respecting the man’s personal space, but that hair was just so shocking. “You wouldn’t ‘appen to style your hair yourself, would you? It makes quite a statement.”
shattering-time
° ♥ ♪ (*^◇^)_旦
° = The character’s temperature preferences
answered here!
♥ = Character’s preference for relationships (sexuality, type of person, etc.)
Uzoma is bisexual and biromantic in that he enjoys men and non-binary people. He definitely prefers people with muscle to them, though he really does enjoy a large variety of body types. He would definitely need to be with someone a little quirky, but also someone who enjoys relaxing activities as much as Uzoma does. They also need to be a good conversation.
♪ = What music the character likes
Uzoma enjoys upbeat hip hop and house music, but he also has a love for instrumentals and orchestral music.
(*^◇^)_旦 = What the character likes to eat and drink
Uzoma has expensive taste and a big sweet tooth. He loves ordering small yet extravagant meals from pricey restaurants, and he is very partial to fish. He loves just about any kind of dessert though, unless it’s cheese cake.
➟ Pull on their hair/clothing
The gloved hand reaching into his jagged flaxen locks was startling enough, but to feel the accompanying pressure and pain that came from having his hair pulled caused the explorer to gasp out, his teeth gritted.“What the hell? Let go!”
shattering-time started following multiarmedmonarch
“You have such magnificent hair. I’d like to touch it.”
...
“May I touch it? I promise not to ruin it!”
"What are you doing here?"
He did not answer with words. No.That would be too simple. Too expected. Too meaningless.Instead, he answered with a desperate embrace, his nose buried in the crook ofthe Zaunite’s neck, gladly inhaling the overpowering scent of charred wood andmusty smog.
How he’d missed it. How he’dmissed him.
“Shh.” Ezreal murmured, closingboth eyes as he nestled himself closer between those lean arms that reluctantlybent to accept him despite the fact their differing, rivaling, progressivecities were all but warring. The lawshad been put in place to protect both of them, but Ezreal had never been one tocompletely obey something that was written in stone.
No. He preferred to discover hisown stones. His own paths.
And right here, right now…this was where his path had led him.
“Don’t let go. Please.”
“You’re not the person I thought you were.”
At first, his eyes widened and his lips parted as though he’d caught on the negative annotations of the phrase and nothing else, but soon after, his pale cheeks tinted coral, and he lowered his gaze, looking a bit sheepish.“...you’re not the person I thought you were, either. And I’m...thankful for that.”
I want the K
13: Stomach Kiss
The world seemed to be in slow motion and in shades of greyscale as the explorer dropped down onto his knees without uttering a single word, his eyes glossed over as though he were intoxicated with potent alcohol. His gaze followed the length of the other young man’s body before settling on his worn tank, wondering what each rip and tear in the stained fabric had been caused by.Maybe one day, he’d ask.He gave a small glance upward to catch those slightly confused hazel eyes as he reached forward with a deft hand, boldly lifting the fabric up to reveal the very lightly muscled skin underneath, feeling a shudder course down his spine and heat pool in his gut.Fuck. Ezreal’s oceanic orbs shut as he leaned in, pressing a slew of careful kisses, tender bites, and swipes of tongue around Ekko’s navel, passionately tasting and testing his flesh as though he’d never get the chance to do it again.He probably wouldn’t.