Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)HunkyDory71
Dust
- Joined
- Feb 12, 2018
Hello, all that are taking the time to read this! I’m looking for some, at least semi-literate, RP partners who are interested in some of the plots, scenarios, and or pairings that are listed below. Now, as seems to be the usual, I’ll lay down a few ground rules of sorts then get into the meats.
—I will not RP with characters that are under the age of 18, regardless of the circumstance
—I have a multitude of characters that can play different roles in terms of topping or
bottoming, I don’t mind switching between either in the same Roleplay, either!
—I like to chat every now and again to get to know my partner a little more but, if you’re not a fan of that, I’m entirely okay with it.
—It doesn’t matter how you describe your character to me, whether it be through a chart, an image, through the text, or whatever... As long as they are adequately detailed, I am more than okay with anything
—For writing, my response length will vary but, on average, I write 2-3 paragraphs for a response. I don’t mind short responses as long as they are bigger than just a short paragraph
—I will try my best to reply every day that I can but, if I don’t respond for a few days, please don’t assume that I left you entirely as I rarely will unless you have done something multiple times that has been agreed upon as taboo
—If an RP is specifically driven by smut, unless adding to the plot, I will become bored quickly.
—This connects to the rule above but I felt like separating them. I enjoy a balance between romance and an actual plot.
—Shoot me just about anything and I'll take it into consideration! I love to hear ideas and come up with new things with someone.
I am more than welcome to anything other than what is listed below! Please send me PM’s or reply to this thread with an idea you might have if none of these interest you all that much.
College / Highschool Seniors
Thank you for taking the time to read this! I hope you hear from some of you soon!
—I will not RP with characters that are under the age of 18, regardless of the circumstance
—I have a multitude of characters that can play different roles in terms of topping or
bottoming, I don’t mind switching between either in the same Roleplay, either!
—I like to chat every now and again to get to know my partner a little more but, if you’re not a fan of that, I’m entirely okay with it.
—It doesn’t matter how you describe your character to me, whether it be through a chart, an image, through the text, or whatever... As long as they are adequately detailed, I am more than okay with anything
—For writing, my response length will vary but, on average, I write 2-3 paragraphs for a response. I don’t mind short responses as long as they are bigger than just a short paragraph
—I will try my best to reply every day that I can but, if I don’t respond for a few days, please don’t assume that I left you entirely as I rarely will unless you have done something multiple times that has been agreed upon as taboo
—If an RP is specifically driven by smut, unless adding to the plot, I will become bored quickly.
—This connects to the rule above but I felt like separating them. I enjoy a balance between romance and an actual plot.
—Shoot me just about anything and I'll take it into consideration! I love to hear ideas and come up with new things with someone.
I am more than welcome to anything other than what is listed below! Please send me PM’s or reply to this thread with an idea you might have if none of these interest you all that much.
~ Dislikes ~
(I like most things so, believe me, this is easier)
Gaping
Vore
Scat
M-Preg
Major age differences
Incest
"Watersports"
(I like most things so, believe me, this is easier)
Gaping
Vore
Scat
M-Preg
Major age differences
Incest
"Watersports"
~ Themes ~
(The themes underlined are ones I'm most interested in playing.)
Modern / Slice of life
Modern SciFi (Modern day settings with slightly advanced technology)
Futuristic / Hard SciFi
Organized Crime
Apocalyptic
Childhood friends
Best friends - Bromances
Summer Flings
Holiday settings
Arranged Marriages
(The themes underlined are ones I'm most interested in playing.)
Modern / Slice of life
Modern SciFi (Modern day settings with slightly advanced technology)
Futuristic / Hard SciFi
Organized Crime
Apocalyptic
Childhood friends
Best friends - Bromances
Summer Flings
Holiday settings
Arranged Marriages
Online Dating
College / Highschool Seniors
(Near to distant future setting)
When most think of androids or artificial intelligence, they think of computer screens and flatly colored flesh connected by thin rods of metal, bundles of wires, and clear materials to show off the intricate workings. Realistic elastic skin was once almost entirely impossible to make but, with advancements in synthetic materials and a patented technique that made it virtually impossible to differentiate a robot from an actual human. (MC) had been placed on a line of automatons to be released to the general public in order to gather information and learn how real humans live in order to make later generations of Zinta International’s androids as human-like as they possibly could. The last stitching of his brunette hair was being placed on his scalp the day he was meant to be placed in a bar, just a few miles away from one of the largest production houses, the faces were always the last thing to put on as “Zinta” had to come and inspect every single detail of the new beings. He knew the face and neck, for him, had to have the utmost detail put into them regardless of the timeframe the actual designers were placed in by his corporate supporters; (MC) being one of the last creations to be planted in human life, at around 9 p.m., he was ran through a few calibrations with a small laptop that was eventually made a part of his outfit rather than a large dedicated computer.
(Modern setting, either end of high school or beginning of college)
It was more often than not that (MC) synchronized his breathing to the sometimes obnoxious sounds of his bell alarm clock whilst lying in bed without a thing to do in his house. He glanced over to the flat sheet of plastic that shielded him from the mechanical arms of his clock and noticed that he, like usual, had woken up a few hours before the alarm went off. A lazy Sunday it was indeed for the American but, when you're used to not having anything other than a few papers to work on, every day seemed like a 'lazy' day for him. Groaning, he shoved the multiple sheets he had placed on himself the night before over and shuffled across the room in order to get a quick glance at himself in the mirror sitting just above his dresser. As much as it disheartened him to say, there wasn't anything found to be out of place in the room behind him nor on his features, no marks from sleeping weirdly, no bags under his eyes. (MC) furrowed his stocky eyebrows together and ran brittle hands across his face, picking up a towel that folded over on a small rack just outside of his personal bathroom. Taking a lengthy cold shower in the morning was the only way (MC) felt he could get away from the foreboding thoughts that enveloped him in the rising hours. The initial shock of having the cold water run down his broad frame was enough to wash away onset judgment but the continued rolling of the frigid liquid really helped to clear his conscious in a bind. Today didn't seem to be like the rest of his Sundays, even from the beginning, there was something off but what could he tell from the confines of his bedroom?
The absurdity of his thinking made (MC) laugh quietly as he lathered a bar of soap over his arms, completely rinsing himself off before taking the same towel and quickly drying off. Keeping his eyes from meeting the mirror again, (MC) patted the towel against his face before walking out to his bedroom while still in the buff and arranged a change of clothes for himself. He began to text a few of his closer friends about a ‘stellar’ party he was planning tonight without approval from his parents or those who worked at their house per diem. "a break from the monotony," (or so it would be, had he not an almost bi-monthly party schedule) he typed, slipping on the change of clothes before heading through the door of his room to make breakfast.
“You coming?” The third message sent to (YC) read off simply.
(Distant future/ Hard Sci-Fi setting... As stated above this is not representative of my current writing and this was my first attempt at writing Sc-Fi)
A galactic federation divided through treacherous claims of mutiny and deceit was no fair way to begin your craft training, yet, that’s exactly how (YC) and (MC) were roped in just a few weeks prior. Their home planet was continually just a few steps away from an all-out atomic war but, the last few years have been huge step backs from the peace work funded by some of the richest companies on Earth. Torn between wanting to fight for his planet and continue his studies in literature, there was no real option for (MC) other than to spend most of his free time with his face buried deep in a book where most would soon turn him away as ‘that weird kid who reads all the time.’ Luckily enough, having the chops when it came to flight simulation put him at a fair advantage compared to his peers who had a difficult time maneuvering even simple carrier ships. Being able to brag about his skills was to be the only way he could survive the rest of this training, lest he be considered a wimp for requesting a leave where they would stamp his identification card with a “DNS” (did not serve) and harassed for not putting in his fair time with Earth’s new defending force. Humiron rest only a light-day from the planet of green, quickly being taken over by multiple different surviving countries of Earth’s multiple wars and providing an academy for all those who are fit enough one centralized station to become equipped well enough that, if the time should come, they could hop into a fighting ship and pick away at those who wish to bring damage to “The Great Blue” as the elders called it.
Back in the camp, (MC) sat in the cafetorium with a book resting open on the table as he always does, tapping his pen across the bent pages before scribbling away furiously. He hadn’t been eating much since he got to the facility, he couldn’t. Being this far away from home troubled him even with the weekly communication with his parents and other concerned family. If something did finally snap, would he be able to find the courage to actually travel back and face what was to come?
(Modern setting, more of a dramatic piece)
(MC) rummaged through a small stack of papers accumulated on his desk with hopes of finally getting to clean them before his roommate came home and gave him the usual look of 'what do you even need all those for?' He had been planning on getting rid of pages one at a time but finding bills from when they first moved into the apartment made him realize that the entire stack was pretty useless, encouraging him to bring over the larger blue trash can meant for regular trash rather than recyclables, which were placed in a small white bin. Pushing the stack of bills, old notes, junk-mail, and the occasional letter that he had all intentions of sending into the receptacle, he furrowed his eyebrows when he saw a small envelope with a few Polaroid pictures hanging out of it. Being the curious soul that he was, Lesley plunged his hand through the shuffling papers and flicked through a couple of photos with tears beginning to well in his eyes. Pictures of a younger him standing around with the usual assortment of children's items forced (MC) to reminisce on the turbulent years that made his childhood. Even from a young age, he knew there was something different about him that he couldn't quite place his finger on and wouldn't, at least, until he met 'Ronald'. The titular Ronald was in the small stack of photos, (MC) aged fourteen, his arm wrapped tightly around the young teenager. A classroom friend turned love interest, a usual story had it not been for his father's intervention once they were caught sharing their first kiss under the warmth of a desk lamp. "I thought I raised you better than this! Hanging around these queers, have we taught you nothing," the yelling of his dad rang in his ears for a moment, blinking himself back to his reality to toss the envelope away. Tired of living a lie, he stood up from his chair and craned his head around the corner of his room to see if (YC) was anywhere near.
(Modern setting, slice of life... This one is pretty open)
Denton, known affectionately to locals and even outsiders as, Anytown, USA. A comfortable place where even those who feel the most out of place could seemingly find a small group of friends that would leave their dwellings when the stars aligned, kicking their legs out and making the college ruled town their own even with another group feeling the exact same way. The shimmering lights running parallel to almost all traffic signals gave the partially rowdy Friday and Saturday nights a more collective feel with the normally clear skies revealing stars poking through the black sheet that was the night sky. A night sky which in some nights should be an indication to those who go out constantly to sleep and rest in the beds that had been curated for them, or at least to some... Black sheets and pink pillows in a room that 'seemed to run through by a tornado', as his mother would say on occasional visits, was now home to (MC) and longtime female friend Marie and he wouldn't have it any other way. For as long as he could remember, the two had been friends and their relationship only seemed to grow stronger with many rolls shared together through numerous stage productions spanning from elementary school to even this upcoming holiday season with 'Heathers' becoming the couple's to-do when there was any downtime.
It was around five in the morning when he woke up without any real reason, causing him to look around the room and eventually out the window his bed was situated against to see if there was any loud noise that he for some reason couldn't have remembered hearing. Nothing. (MC) stood from his bed and stretched his arms as far above his head as they would go before bending over to at least attempt to touch his toes. "Marie," he popped his head out into the hall to investigate a little more, tugging the blankets off the bed to give himself a little more coverage from the cold air blasting from vents above. The hallway leading to his bedroom was as barren as it always was but the humming noise coming from the living room was something that he had never heard before, only coming to discover that the cat they shared had nicked a sock from under him earlier. "I hate you," he rest back on the floor and took another short nap that lasted him until seven where he perked up to a more energized state and a craving for coffee. Not having to be at school until nine for introductions of school clubs, he found himself in the middle of a local cafe with a cup of warm coffee in his hands and his rather large glasses plastered to the crown of his nose.
(Slice of life setting, can take place in any time you would like)
Interests seemed to be the only thing constantly changing in the generally haptic life of (MC), an English immigrant whose parents had moved across the seas for what they had heard of the unbridled prosperity offered by the country which seemed to be slowly growing day by day. There were multiple occupations he wanted to explore and managed to do so with moderate success while his parents were still able to support him without any adverse effects to their normal living standard. He could have been considered a higher-class citizen when both of his parents were focusing on their own careers, but when the couple collectively focused their efforts on creating an English centered restaurant in the heart of Lincoln, Nebraska, his guaranteed meals of the day turned to occasional snacking on what was left from the shift he had been forced into due to immediate short staffing. Having been out of high school for a couple of years at this point, (MC) found comfort in knowing that he would have a steady job for a number of years — even if the work was tedious to a mind-numbing fault. Still, he stood in the back when he wasn't washing the few dishes that were used, writing what he thought could become something larger than the small, insignificant life he lived now.
Until then, however, he was stuck in a sharply cold college town, staring out the front windows at the young adults that were skimping their ways to classes being paid for by their parents while the young Englishman was stuck behind doors, going through page and page again of a small notebook.
When most think of androids or artificial intelligence, they think of computer screens and flatly colored flesh connected by thin rods of metal, bundles of wires, and clear materials to show off the intricate workings. Realistic elastic skin was once almost entirely impossible to make but, with advancements in synthetic materials and a patented technique that made it virtually impossible to differentiate a robot from an actual human. (MC) had been placed on a line of automatons to be released to the general public in order to gather information and learn how real humans live in order to make later generations of Zinta International’s androids as human-like as they possibly could. The last stitching of his brunette hair was being placed on his scalp the day he was meant to be placed in a bar, just a few miles away from one of the largest production houses, the faces were always the last thing to put on as “Zinta” had to come and inspect every single detail of the new beings. He knew the face and neck, for him, had to have the utmost detail put into them regardless of the timeframe the actual designers were placed in by his corporate supporters; (MC) being one of the last creations to be planted in human life, at around 9 p.m., he was ran through a few calibrations with a small laptop that was eventually made a part of his outfit rather than a large dedicated computer.
(Modern setting, either end of high school or beginning of college)
It was more often than not that (MC) synchronized his breathing to the sometimes obnoxious sounds of his bell alarm clock whilst lying in bed without a thing to do in his house. He glanced over to the flat sheet of plastic that shielded him from the mechanical arms of his clock and noticed that he, like usual, had woken up a few hours before the alarm went off. A lazy Sunday it was indeed for the American but, when you're used to not having anything other than a few papers to work on, every day seemed like a 'lazy' day for him. Groaning, he shoved the multiple sheets he had placed on himself the night before over and shuffled across the room in order to get a quick glance at himself in the mirror sitting just above his dresser. As much as it disheartened him to say, there wasn't anything found to be out of place in the room behind him nor on his features, no marks from sleeping weirdly, no bags under his eyes. (MC) furrowed his stocky eyebrows together and ran brittle hands across his face, picking up a towel that folded over on a small rack just outside of his personal bathroom. Taking a lengthy cold shower in the morning was the only way (MC) felt he could get away from the foreboding thoughts that enveloped him in the rising hours. The initial shock of having the cold water run down his broad frame was enough to wash away onset judgment but the continued rolling of the frigid liquid really helped to clear his conscious in a bind. Today didn't seem to be like the rest of his Sundays, even from the beginning, there was something off but what could he tell from the confines of his bedroom?
The absurdity of his thinking made (MC) laugh quietly as he lathered a bar of soap over his arms, completely rinsing himself off before taking the same towel and quickly drying off. Keeping his eyes from meeting the mirror again, (MC) patted the towel against his face before walking out to his bedroom while still in the buff and arranged a change of clothes for himself. He began to text a few of his closer friends about a ‘stellar’ party he was planning tonight without approval from his parents or those who worked at their house per diem. "a break from the monotony," (or so it would be, had he not an almost bi-monthly party schedule) he typed, slipping on the change of clothes before heading through the door of his room to make breakfast.
“You coming?” The third message sent to (YC) read off simply.
(Distant future/ Hard Sci-Fi setting... As stated above this is not representative of my current writing and this was my first attempt at writing Sc-Fi)
A galactic federation divided through treacherous claims of mutiny and deceit was no fair way to begin your craft training, yet, that’s exactly how (YC) and (MC) were roped in just a few weeks prior. Their home planet was continually just a few steps away from an all-out atomic war but, the last few years have been huge step backs from the peace work funded by some of the richest companies on Earth. Torn between wanting to fight for his planet and continue his studies in literature, there was no real option for (MC) other than to spend most of his free time with his face buried deep in a book where most would soon turn him away as ‘that weird kid who reads all the time.’ Luckily enough, having the chops when it came to flight simulation put him at a fair advantage compared to his peers who had a difficult time maneuvering even simple carrier ships. Being able to brag about his skills was to be the only way he could survive the rest of this training, lest he be considered a wimp for requesting a leave where they would stamp his identification card with a “DNS” (did not serve) and harassed for not putting in his fair time with Earth’s new defending force. Humiron rest only a light-day from the planet of green, quickly being taken over by multiple different surviving countries of Earth’s multiple wars and providing an academy for all those who are fit enough one centralized station to become equipped well enough that, if the time should come, they could hop into a fighting ship and pick away at those who wish to bring damage to “The Great Blue” as the elders called it.
Back in the camp, (MC) sat in the cafetorium with a book resting open on the table as he always does, tapping his pen across the bent pages before scribbling away furiously. He hadn’t been eating much since he got to the facility, he couldn’t. Being this far away from home troubled him even with the weekly communication with his parents and other concerned family. If something did finally snap, would he be able to find the courage to actually travel back and face what was to come?
(Modern setting, more of a dramatic piece)
(MC) rummaged through a small stack of papers accumulated on his desk with hopes of finally getting to clean them before his roommate came home and gave him the usual look of 'what do you even need all those for?' He had been planning on getting rid of pages one at a time but finding bills from when they first moved into the apartment made him realize that the entire stack was pretty useless, encouraging him to bring over the larger blue trash can meant for regular trash rather than recyclables, which were placed in a small white bin. Pushing the stack of bills, old notes, junk-mail, and the occasional letter that he had all intentions of sending into the receptacle, he furrowed his eyebrows when he saw a small envelope with a few Polaroid pictures hanging out of it. Being the curious soul that he was, Lesley plunged his hand through the shuffling papers and flicked through a couple of photos with tears beginning to well in his eyes. Pictures of a younger him standing around with the usual assortment of children's items forced (MC) to reminisce on the turbulent years that made his childhood. Even from a young age, he knew there was something different about him that he couldn't quite place his finger on and wouldn't, at least, until he met 'Ronald'. The titular Ronald was in the small stack of photos, (MC) aged fourteen, his arm wrapped tightly around the young teenager. A classroom friend turned love interest, a usual story had it not been for his father's intervention once they were caught sharing their first kiss under the warmth of a desk lamp. "I thought I raised you better than this! Hanging around these queers, have we taught you nothing," the yelling of his dad rang in his ears for a moment, blinking himself back to his reality to toss the envelope away. Tired of living a lie, he stood up from his chair and craned his head around the corner of his room to see if (YC) was anywhere near.
(Modern setting, slice of life... This one is pretty open)
Denton, known affectionately to locals and even outsiders as, Anytown, USA. A comfortable place where even those who feel the most out of place could seemingly find a small group of friends that would leave their dwellings when the stars aligned, kicking their legs out and making the college ruled town their own even with another group feeling the exact same way. The shimmering lights running parallel to almost all traffic signals gave the partially rowdy Friday and Saturday nights a more collective feel with the normally clear skies revealing stars poking through the black sheet that was the night sky. A night sky which in some nights should be an indication to those who go out constantly to sleep and rest in the beds that had been curated for them, or at least to some... Black sheets and pink pillows in a room that 'seemed to run through by a tornado', as his mother would say on occasional visits, was now home to (MC) and longtime female friend Marie and he wouldn't have it any other way. For as long as he could remember, the two had been friends and their relationship only seemed to grow stronger with many rolls shared together through numerous stage productions spanning from elementary school to even this upcoming holiday season with 'Heathers' becoming the couple's to-do when there was any downtime.
It was around five in the morning when he woke up without any real reason, causing him to look around the room and eventually out the window his bed was situated against to see if there was any loud noise that he for some reason couldn't have remembered hearing. Nothing. (MC) stood from his bed and stretched his arms as far above his head as they would go before bending over to at least attempt to touch his toes. "Marie," he popped his head out into the hall to investigate a little more, tugging the blankets off the bed to give himself a little more coverage from the cold air blasting from vents above. The hallway leading to his bedroom was as barren as it always was but the humming noise coming from the living room was something that he had never heard before, only coming to discover that the cat they shared had nicked a sock from under him earlier. "I hate you," he rest back on the floor and took another short nap that lasted him until seven where he perked up to a more energized state and a craving for coffee. Not having to be at school until nine for introductions of school clubs, he found himself in the middle of a local cafe with a cup of warm coffee in his hands and his rather large glasses plastered to the crown of his nose.
(Slice of life setting, can take place in any time you would like)
Interests seemed to be the only thing constantly changing in the generally haptic life of (MC), an English immigrant whose parents had moved across the seas for what they had heard of the unbridled prosperity offered by the country which seemed to be slowly growing day by day. There were multiple occupations he wanted to explore and managed to do so with moderate success while his parents were still able to support him without any adverse effects to their normal living standard. He could have been considered a higher-class citizen when both of his parents were focusing on their own careers, but when the couple collectively focused their efforts on creating an English centered restaurant in the heart of Lincoln, Nebraska, his guaranteed meals of the day turned to occasional snacking on what was left from the shift he had been forced into due to immediate short staffing. Having been out of high school for a couple of years at this point, (MC) found comfort in knowing that he would have a steady job for a number of years — even if the work was tedious to a mind-numbing fault. Still, he stood in the back when he wasn't washing the few dishes that were used, writing what he thought could become something larger than the small, insignificant life he lived now.
Until then, however, he was stuck in a sharply cold college town, staring out the front windows at the young adults that were skimping their ways to classes being paid for by their parents while the young Englishman was stuck behind doors, going through page and page again of a small notebook.
Realistic setting (1975)
My first batch of ideas takes their settings from 1970's - 1990's America with the first plot starting in 1975 at the end of the Vietnam war. While I don't particularly want this one to be a politically charged plot, I would love to have the generally nonplussed attitude toward the soldiers coming back from a war to be a bustling backdrop to
Realistic setting (1976)
The second, being just a year after the first, during the bicentennial of America - An English journalist, having covered a few big stories, is sent overseas to write about the festivities and works of wonder being revealed around the country. However, it's when he meets another man during his few days in New York that causing a whirlwind of a headrush. It's there that he begins to question writing for corporate gain, fully taken aback by not only the art scene in New York but the starvation of mutual intellectual contact.
Realistic setting (199x)
Third and final in a specific decade, this one being the loosest in its premise takes a young musician from a small town in Texas and his journey to Louisiana in the 1990's. Being the turn of the century and a greater focus on 'new' ideas, his multiplicity of talents is pushed aside as he is gearing up for college after a years hiatus from school. His parents don't believe in his art, and he begins to not think he could make it as well until one night a simple argument turns into a drawn out discussion of how he is throwing his life away. This leads him to pack everything he has and begin his way to another state.
Slice of life / Realistic (No specific year, I REALLY want to do this one.)
A couple others that can easily be hitched off... My character hosts either a radio or public access television show and has a segment where he reads love letters written anonymously to other viewers who are more than likely listening. Eventually getting lovesick himself, he begins to write his own letters for people he sees and develops minor crushes on, with one specific person being his source of affection.
Slice of life
And for my least fleshed out one, a studying writer moves in from (insert country here) to (insert country here) to further his progress into fully understanding what other nations consider important. Eventually, without his knowledge, his luggage and return flight ticket is stolen from his motel room and he is left in this foreign country with only a small wad of cash and a paper notepad... Of course, this one would require a little more conversing as to what two countries but I think it would be fun.
My first batch of ideas takes their settings from 1970's - 1990's America with the first plot starting in 1975 at the end of the Vietnam war. While I don't particularly want this one to be a politically charged plot, I would love to have the generally nonplussed attitude toward the soldiers coming back from a war to be a bustling backdrop to
Realistic setting (1976)
The second, being just a year after the first, during the bicentennial of America - An English journalist, having covered a few big stories, is sent overseas to write about the festivities and works of wonder being revealed around the country. However, it's when he meets another man during his few days in New York that causing a whirlwind of a headrush. It's there that he begins to question writing for corporate gain, fully taken aback by not only the art scene in New York but the starvation of mutual intellectual contact.
Realistic setting (199x)
Third and final in a specific decade, this one being the loosest in its premise takes a young musician from a small town in Texas and his journey to Louisiana in the 1990's. Being the turn of the century and a greater focus on 'new' ideas, his multiplicity of talents is pushed aside as he is gearing up for college after a years hiatus from school. His parents don't believe in his art, and he begins to not think he could make it as well until one night a simple argument turns into a drawn out discussion of how he is throwing his life away. This leads him to pack everything he has and begin his way to another state.
Slice of life / Realistic (No specific year, I REALLY want to do this one.)
A couple others that can easily be hitched off... My character hosts either a radio or public access television show and has a segment where he reads love letters written anonymously to other viewers who are more than likely listening. Eventually getting lovesick himself, he begins to write his own letters for people he sees and develops minor crushes on, with one specific person being his source of affection.
Slice of life
And for my least fleshed out one, a studying writer moves in from (insert country here) to (insert country here) to further his progress into fully understanding what other nations consider important. Eventually, without his knowledge, his luggage and return flight ticket is stolen from his motel room and he is left in this foreign country with only a small wad of cash and a paper notepad... Of course, this one would require a little more conversing as to what two countries but I think it would be fun.
Thank you for taking the time to read this! I hope you hear from some of you soon!