#Mention of - Freeform

[mugloversonly]

Wake Up

For @steddiemicrofic July prompt: “Sign” | rating: G | wc: 507 | cw: death of a parent, medical talk summary: After the bat attack, Eddie hasn’t woken up. The party try to bring him back. AO3

The beeping of Eddie's heart monitor was the only sound in the room as they all absorbed what the doctor said.

“Brain dead?” Wayne whispered shakily, pursing his lips to hold off the tears.

“We believe so.” Doctor Owens replied. Stevie appreciated that he wasn't sugar coating it even as it crushed her to hear.

“There isn't anything more you can do?” Dustin asked angrily, jumping to his feet. Stevie put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back down before he got kicked out of the conversation.

“We’ve tried every test, everything we can think of. And there’s no response.” Doctor Owens said grimly. “If you all want to tell him something shocking or important, you’re more than welcome to try. But we do have to warn you, it probably won’t work.”

“If it doesn’t work?” Robin murmured.

“He’s an organ donor. Made me promise I wouldn’t let him stick around too long.” Wayne replied, finally letting the tears flow. The implication was clear. If they couldn’t wake him up, that would be that. Stevie’s not surprised, she knew Eddie’s mom died on the transplant list when Eddie was too young to donate his kidney.

“He is in there, he just can't get out.” Eleven whispered confidently. Hope shook through the room, even Owens looked relieved. “We just need to guide him home.” El stepped away, letting Eddie's sheepies in close.

“You only have one saving throw left, man.” Mike whispered.

“Erica wants to DM a campaign with you.” Lucas said.

“I set sweetheart on fire.” Dustin tried, sounding as guilty as he could.

No reaction. Wayne took his turn next. He put a hand on Eddie's chest with a sigh.

“Kid, you gotta wake up. I won't survive out living you. Don't leave along me with no family.” He whispered. At first, nothing happened. Then, Eddie's hand jerked hard toward his uncle.

“You saw that, right?!” Dustin screamed excitedly. Owens sighed shaking his head.

“It could be just a muscle reflex. We need a more definitive answer.”

Stevie moved to the side of the bed, staring at Eddie softly.

“Stevie you didn't even know Eddie, what can you say?” Mike asked not unkindly.

But he's wrong. Stevie knew Eddie better than anyone and vise versa. She made eye contact with Wayne who nodded for her to continue. She bent down until her lips were at his ear.

“Eds, remember the night before the game? I told you I had something important to tell you.” She grabbed his hand and held it to her stomach. “I’m pregnant. You’re gonna be a daddy, please come back to me.” Nothing. Stevie sobbed, a few tears dripping onto Eddie’s face.

“I’m sorry.” Owens said. “I’ll give you a few minutes with him.”

Suddenly, the heart monitor sped up, Eddie's free hand lifted, flipping Owens the bird.

“That enough of a sign for you?” Wayne smirked.

“I’m gonna be daddy?” Eddie rasped, voice hoarse with disuse. Stevie nodded happily, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Wait, what?!” Dustin shouted.

permanent tag list(open):

@katyawriteswhump

[sinclairmaxwellao3]

The Abyss Stares Back Eclipse/Ruin's Pups, surviving and lost

This doesn't include their pups from the main Abyss story, just the past pups!

For those who are curious, here is a list of Ruin and Eclipse's pups!

Surviving: Elianna (the eldest, a Dragon Leviathan), Lingan (Mesmer Leviathan), Finny and Bede (twins, Dragon Leviathans)

Died as Eggs: Vera, Tide, Daylight, Wingheart, Lightly, Aurora, Comet, Skadi

Died After: Nightrise and Starset (died from maternal stress), Memory (died from being injured during an attack by a rival male Mesmer intent on taking Ruin for his own), Echo (lived the longest- 3 years old; died of sickness from the falling of the Aurora)

[this-isnt-oish]

theyre on a dateee

rin: you’ve gone to that restaurant before…?miku: yeah! with teto!

[cattatoir]

Anyway this is what I mean by I want to see Adam and Jesus talk

[gregsofhumanity]

⚠️‼️Warning‼️⚠️ LGBTQIA+ Content BELOW

Ohhhh my good lord I’m so gay it’s not even funny, I’m afflicted, it’s chronic

Could not imagine being straight, that’s some WHACK shit right there

Men >>> being straight

Real men listen to Impaled Divinity - Irreparable Penile Mutilation and imagine GAY SEX

This is literally what I came on tumblr for; share art and GAYPOST

God made me to: a) get sweaty in the mosh pit and b) fuck men

Probably also c) manual labor (God bless repetitive physical exertion)

I remember when I dated girls, shit was WHACK no shade ladies you are lovely but I am gay

God has a plan for me and it is to SODOMIZE

Ok I got it out of my system thanks for coming to my TED talk.

[ellascreams]

The Inner Monologue of a Panic Attack

What could go wrong? Why have I been in my room for so long? My friends haven’t texted. They must be dead.

No. Yes. Why am I scared of what I know isn’t true? Hair smells too strong. Fan too loud. Right? Wrong.

I’m scared. I’m dumb. Dramatic. No fun. Tears. Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe? Why not? Oh no. Help me.

Maybe I’ll just take a nap. I hope that’s ok.

[sparks-chaotic-cove]

In the end, it all will fall.

All those hopeful wishes and pantomimed calls,

All the empty spaces that were left upon your walls,

In the end, all of it will fall.

So shed no tears and cry no more,

cycles, deary, appear evermore.

for what will die will live again

and for what falls down will rise up with a grin.

For the dead feed the earth, and the earth feeds new life.

For tears feed healing, and healing feeds a smile.

Smile grows to laughter, and laughter from within

is the greatest thing a person can ever win.

[readymades2002]

"""queer theory""" is not a serious method of analysis

[mugloversonly]

What's in a Designation?

For @stmarchmm Day 3: Love confession Day 19: heats/ruts (I now I wrote for this day twice...shh) day 26: late in life rating: M summary: 10 years ago, Steve never presented and was assumed a beta. Now, he’s 25 and something weird is going on with him. AO3

Steve Harrington was a beta; which was perfectly acceptable. He didn’t mind being a beta, he didn’t have to struggle with a mating cycle; nor was he pressured to act a certain way due to his designation. There were things he wished he could do, like scent his pack; or mate his omega.

But, Eddie often reassured him that he didn’t mind that Steve was a beta. He wasn’t a huge fan of alphas, he thought they were all annoying knotheads. He much preferred betas or omegas.

He and Eddie have been together for the past five years, since the week they killed Vecna, and they’ve been married for one. When they decided on the plan, he couldn’t let his omega charge into battle without letting the man know he wanted to court him once the dust settled.

Eddie’s injuries were severe, but the pack was there through it all. Eddie was never alone and with the Byers’ moving back to Hawkins, the pack was bigger than ever. They all scented each other pretty regularly, and that reassured Steve that Eddie’s biological need for alpha scents wasn’t going unsatisfied; even if it was platonic. Steve loved their pack and he didn’t mind when others cuddled up with his husband.

But something has been going on with Steve lately. He’s become possessive of the omega to the point where he scents him constantly; not that Eddie minded. If that was the worst of it, Steve doesn’t think he’d notice; but he glared at anyone who seemed like a minor threat to Eddie. He snapped at Robin the other day because the alpha stood too close to his omega in his kitchen, he bared his teeth at Nancy, another omega! All the girl had done was shove Eddie playfully, but Steve’s mind took that as a threat.

Today was the worst of all though. The party was over at their new apartment, having a movie night, even the pups. Everyone was in the living room, getting comfortable; everyone except Steve. He was burning up, he sat in a t-shirt and shorts but it felt like he was in a heavy winter coat; his skin felt tight and itchy. He tried to push through it as best he could, doing some deep breathing or something. But as Eddie sat next to him, and tucked himself under his arm, Steve caught a whiff of a scent on his omega. A deep sound he’s never made before boiled up his chest as he nosed at Eddie’s neck.

“Um, Steve?” Eddie asked cautiously and he attempted to pull away. Steve tightened his grip and made that sound again. “Why are you growling at me?” Eddie whispered. That was the sound he kept making, a growl.

“Alpha on you.” He said. As he nosed up to Eddie’s hair, he realized it was Jonathon. All his logical thought flew out the window. The alpha that stole his last omega from him was trying to move on his territory again. Well Steve wouldn’t let it happen this time.

He pulled away from Eddie, leapt to his feet, and strode over to where Jonathon was sitting. He stared down Jonathon, his teeth bared. His canines extended in an unfamiliar way and they dug into his bottom lip until he dropped his mouth open a little more. Saliva dripped down his fangs as he glared at the alpha.

“Stay away, from my omega.” He snarled. Jonathon stood, his spine straight as he held his ground.

“He’s my friend, asshole.” Jonathon said as he stepped closer, his nostrils flared in challenge. “I scent him all the time.” That seemed to set Steve off and he roughly pushed the alpha. Jonathon stumbled but stayed up right, stepping forward to press his chest against Steve’s aggressively.

“Guys calm down.” Robin said but it was no use, the two men were practically spitting on each other.

“Everyone out, I’ll take you home.” Nancy said. But as far as Steve could tell, no one moved.

“Now!” Robin shouted, using her alpha voice to command everyone in the room into submission. The room emptied until only Jonathon and Steve remained.

“I’m not leaving.” Eddie said defiantly. How the omega was able resist an alpha’s command, Steve didn’t know, but he didn’t really care. His omega wasn’t in danger as long as he was in the room.

“Leave my omega alone.” Steve said again. Jonathon glared dangerously and the room was filled with the burnt scent of angry alpha. Their foreheads were touching, eye contact making everything so much worse. But neither would break; that would mean submitting.

“I’m not after your omega. But if I was, you wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop me.” Jonathon taunted. Steve pulled back his fist and was ready to let it fly when Eddie shoved himself in between the two posturing men; his back to the alpha, and his gaze locked fully on his beta.

“Steve, stop.” Eddie said firmly. Steve’s slowly lowered his fist; while he was pissed at the other man, he’d never hurt his omega. “Jonathon go take a walk.” Eddie demanded. With the way Jonathon reacted, it wouldn’t surprise Steve if omegas could be taught to command, or maybe it was his own biological instinct stopping him from hurting an omega.

Jonathon backed out of the room slowly, his eyes never leaving the beta until he was out of sight. Only then did Steve take a deep breath and retract his fangs. He moved to take the omega into his arms but Eddie pulled away swiftly.

“What was that, Steve?” He asked angrily; his arms crossed over his chest. Shamed filled him as he took in his angry mate; he fucked up but he wasn’t sure how yet.

“Alpha wants you.” Steve exclaimed. Eddie rolled his eyes.

“His name is Jonathon. And he couldn’t take me from you if he tried. I don’t want him, I want you.” Eddie sighed and took another step back. “Or, I thought I did. But now you’re acting like jerk! You glare at everyone, tried to bite Robin, flashed your teeth at Nancy, and now this!” He threw his hands up.

“Protecting you!” Steve insisted imploringly, he stepped closer to the man.

“From what, our pack?” Eddie shook his head. “God you’re acting like a feral Alpha! You need get it together, because I can’t be around you if you’re going to be an annoying jackass all the time!” Eddie snagged his jacket off the hook and stormed out of the apartment. “I’m going to Wayne’s. Call me when you figure out what your deal is.”

Steve sat heavily on the couch, a whine slipped out. He wanted to wallow, but the scent of the threatening alpha was still in the room so he rushed to the bedroom and stripped off his clothes. He took a quick and cold shower, which helped him feel better, then he slipped into their nest. It smelled like home and pack and mate...but he could still smell the threat. He tore through the nest until he found the offending garment. Stomping to the kitchen, he threw the shirt into trash, satisfied that he removed enough trace of that other alpha. Wait...other alpha...feral alpha. What? Steve’s mind cleared suddenly. Steve wasn’t an alpha; he was a beta. He’s been a beta since he didn’t present when he was 15. He ran to the phone and dialed Robin, the only alpha he trusted.

“Hello?” Robin’s voice soothed him immediately.

“Hey, quick question.” Steve said immediately.

“Shoot.”

“Is it normal to be all aggressive and possessive about someone when leading up to a presentation rut?” Steve asked. Robin hummed.

“Well, I didn’t really know anyone so that wasn’t true for me. But my parents were dating before my mom presented let me ask her.” Robin put the phone down. It was silent for a few minutes before she was back. “Okay my mom said a month or so before her presentation rut, she was really angry at anyone who came near my dad. He’d presented as an omega like a week before that and she got really territorial and mean to anyone around her. Once she presented, she was able to control the inner alpha but when it was developing it was a little out of control.”

“Huh, I guess that’s a theory.” Steve said. Robin huffed.

“Does this have to do with the crap you pulled today?” Robin asked. Steve assessed his body. With everything he knew about ruts that’s likely what he was going through. And an alpha he considered a threat being in his den...the dots were connecting.

“I think I’m an alpha in rut.” Steve whispered in shock. Robin gasped.

“It’s rare but it can happen this late.” She offered.

“Ten years late?!” Steve exclaimed. “What am I gonna do?”

“First, talk to Eddie.” Robin reminded him. Shit. He looked at the clock, Eddie’s been gone for about an hour so even if he went the long way he should be at Wayne’s by now.

“Right, thanks Robin!” He hung up and immediately dialed the trailer.

“Munson residence, Wayne speaking.” Wayne’s rich timber appeared.

“Hey Wayne, it’s Steve. Is Eddie there?” Steve asked even as he heard Eddie ranting angrily in the background.

“Yeah hang on.” Wayne turned away from the phone but didn’t have to raise his voice in the small trailer. “Phone, Eds.” The phone exchanged hands and Eddie spoke.

“This better be my husband calling to apologize.” He said snappily. Steve smiled, he loved his husband so much.

“Yeah, it’s me. I think I figured it out.” Steve took a deep breath. He knew there was a chance this went poorly. “I think I’m going into a presentation rut.” There was silence on the other end. “Eddie?”

“Sorry! I’m here, sorry. That’s definitely something.” He said.

“I called Robin and she said her mom acted like I did when she was presenting.” Steve quickly filled Eddie in on the conversation with Robin.

“So, you think all that crap and the aggression with Jonathon was just your inner alpha trying to establish itself?” Eddie asked.

“Basically, yeah.” Steve agreed.

“So, should I stay the night at Wayne’s or do you want me to come home and help you through it?” Eddie asked.

Steve thought about it carefully. On the one hand, having Eddie here meant he would be able to knot an omega for the first time, which...not bad. It also meant he could keep Eddie safe. But on the other hand, he’d heard about alphas going feral and attacking anyone during their first rut or claiming an unmarked omega. That and the bigger issue...Eddie didn’t like alphas. They should talk about what this will mean before Steve gets used to having an omega during his rut and they couldn’t do that while he was lost in it. Plus, Steve had no idea what his inner alpha would be like, so it was better to figure that out alone.

“Stay the night at Wayne’s and I’ll call you in the morning once it breaks. I don’t want to hurt you.” He whispered. His newly awakened inner alpha whined at not having his omega near by but Steve tried to ignore it.

“If you’re sure sweetheart. I love you.” Eddie said softly. “Get some rest and there’s a pocket omega under the bed.” He tacked on. Steve smiled confusedly...when did he get that?

“I love you too, freak.” The affection obvious in his voice. They hung up and Steve moved back to the bedroom. He remade their nest, trying to put it back to normal. After that, he went into the living room and kitchen, cleaning his den to make it presentable for his omega.

Steve was filled with this insatiable desire to have everything clean and perfect for a mate to return to and hopefully, if he did a good enough job, he would be allowed to bite and claim Eddie. Steve vacuumed the bedroom floor, his cock rapidly hardening until his mind went a little foggy. He climbed into the nest, thankful that he never got dressed after his shower, and pulled his omega’s pillow to his nose.

He sniffed it deeply with a groan before shoving it down between his legs to move against. “Omega.” He whined. His nose turned into the blanket. He thrust against the pillow over and over until he spilled, his knot swelling for the first time as he came. With a grunt, Steve’s hips froze and he squeezed the base of his dick tightly to assist.

After he caught his breath, he rolled over and did it all over again. And again. And again. For days. On the morning of the second day, he found the pocket omega Eddie mentioned and that made it so much more bearable. Still, by the end all he wanted was his omega around his knot.

------------------------

The fifth day after the movie night, he called the trailer and let Eddie know his rut had passed. Less than 15 minutes later, Eddie entered the apartment. Steve excitedly ran to the door to greet his omega with his arms wide. He picked Eddie up and spun him around much to the latter’s delight.

“I missed you too.” He threw his head back and cackled. Steve finally put him down on his feet and stepped out of his space a bit. “You smell like an alpha now.” Eddie said with a deep breath. Steve’s face fell.

“Are we going to break up?” Steve whispered. Eddie recoiled in shock.

“What? Why would we do that?” He asked, completely blindsided by the question.

“I’m an alpha now. And you hate alphas.” Steve said like it was obvious. He shrugged his shoulders and looked away, putting his hands in the pockets of his sweats. Eddie rushed forward and yanked Steve’s hands out so he could hold them.

“Oh, my love. I’m sorry.” Eddie whispered, as tears sprung to his eyes. Steve was confused.

“What, why?” Though he didn’t pull away, instead he let himself be moved until he was holding Eddie tightly to his chest in the perfect place.

“I don’t normally like alphas that’s true. But Steve, I love you. No matter what. Beta, alpha, hell if you woke up tomorrow as an omega I’d still love you. Who you are; that’s who I love.” Eddie reassured.

“But the other day you said you couldn’t be around me.” Steve said even though he knew there was more to it than that.

“I didn’t mean that. I was just angry that you were being a knothead but with the rut, that all makes sense!” Eddie said.

“It does?” Steve asked. He wasn’t used to having a mating cycle so he didn’t know much about them.

“Yeah! You know when I’m in pre-heat and I get all clingy and a little bratty. Like I want you to take care of me and stuff? And I hate when you’re around Nancy alone? It’s the same thing. I can control the more...uh...feral instincts because I’ve had practice. But you had no idea what was happening.” Eddie pulled back a little to look him in the eyes. “Plus with your history with Jonathon, I’m not surprised you reacted so strongly.” Eddie shrugged. Steve rumbled a little growl at the reminder of the other man and Eddie chuckled lightly.

“Sorry.” Steve sighed. Eddie moved to the bedroom and took in the nest with pursed lips. He stripped down to his boxers before he crawled in and rearranged everything back to his liking, but he paused after a minute.

“Something’s missing.” Eddie said with a pout as he looked at his alpha. Steve felt the growl building but was able to push it down this time.

“I may have...thrown away Jonathon’s shirt.” He admitted sheepishly. Eddie snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Come here.” He said and pulled Steve to lay on top of him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“You’re my husband, Stevie. My alpha.” He whispered. Steve purred softly and smiled when Eddie let out a chirp.

“You like my purr, baby?” He asked with a smile. Eddie’s face flushed but he didn’t look away.

“Yeah I do.” He admitted. “I have a request, if that’s okay.” Steve nodded his encouragement. “During my next heat, can we...exchange bites?” Eddie asked quietly, if a little embarrassed. Steve jumped up excitedly to stare at his omega.

“I thought you didn’t want a bite?” He asked even as his chest filled. Eddie shrugged. It wasn’t super common for omegas to claim alphas but Steve wouldn’t have it any other way.

“After you called the other day, I had a long talk with Wayne. I realized I hated the idea of bites and alphas because of my dad. He was so angry and mean all the time, I didn’t want to be tied to someone like that.” Eddie took Steve’s face in his. “But you could never be like that sweetheart. I know you could never hurt me or treat me any differently than you have for the past five years. You having a knot or a stronger wood smoke scent…” Eddie leaned in and sniffed at his scent gland. “Which I’m loving by the way. None of that changes the guy you are. And I love that guy.”

Steve stared awe at the man below him, his husband, his omega, his mate. “I’d love your bite, omega.” He whispered against Eddie’s lips as he leaned in to kiss him. Eddie sighed into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck.

-------------------------

Steve would apologize to the party later and host another movie night. Robin, Nancy, and Jonathon would get personal apologies since he’d been the worst to them. The girls would accept it graciously with a little teasing. Jonathon would brush it off though; he let his own inner alpha take the lead and made the situation worse; likely due to the perceived threat of an angry alpha near his own omega, and the challenge instinct Steve accidentally triggered.

Jonathon would give Eddie another item for his nest that he would return before Steve’s rut and accept back once it passed. Steve settled back to his normal self, after Mrs. Buckley gave him lessons on how to contain his inner alpha around others.

There was no more growling or biting. No challenging of the other pack members. It was harder if they were from outside the pack but he wasn’t going to do anything to upset his omega. Eddie even confessed that when Steve got a little possessive of him at bars he didn’t mind.

Eddie’s next heat forced Steve into another rut, syncing their cycles, and they exchanged mating bites. Eddie was his and he was Eddie’s no matter the designation and nothing would change that.

tags

@katyawriteswhump

buy me a coffee

[sinclairmaxwellao3]

The Abyss Stares Back Ch.7 Quote

"Sun...Did- did you lose one?" He asked softly, reaching out to take his twin's hand gently. He knew that his brother had been carrying four eggs and yet...there were only three pups. Sun flushed and began to reassure his brother quickly. "N-no! One was an empty egg, that's all! Blood and Sang said that it's normal for one egg to not be fertilized in their kind, so please don't worry, Moony!" Sun stuttered, his tail wrapping around Moon's gently. Nearby Kill Code made a quiet, confused croon, looking towards his sons. Blood and Sang shook their heads and, in their own language, clicked a soft 'later'. The message was clear and the Silence quickly got a picture of what had occurred. He let out a low, somber rumble and butted his head up against his boys softly, a show of comfort and support.

[myheartinlowercase]

i remember when i stood by the church

where we’d go our separate ways

watching you leave

you never looked back

why would you? i thought

but still i watched

until you vanished

into the dark winter air

your blue headphones contrasting

against the neat grey street

the sky low and heavy above us

it took a few failed spells

to let the truth pass my lips

words catching like thorns

in the hollow of my throat

ten paces on week one

seven on week two

five on week three

until at last

in the fourth week’s hush

it drifted out syrup sweet

i like you a lot

i still think of our firsts on that street corner

the first i like you

the first i love you

the first nervous hug

a kiss shy and blushing on the cheek

and the first time i pulled you into the open

like a secret i refused to keep

i faked sadness that day

stood still with practiced tears

and a story thin as mist

you pitied me held me

and as familiar faces passed

i stayed in your arms

until i was sure

they’d seen enough

to call you mine

i see it clearly now

how selfish i was with you

how i marked you as mine

from the moment i could

ripping you from a friend

who i knew felt the same

and shielding you

from another thief’s gaze

one who only wanted

what i already had

that church

it haunts the outline of those years

i once imagined you there

on one knee

a ring in your hand

until the vision blurred

not with joy

but clouded

by golden arches on a sloped ramp

and you walking away

as my tears too pitiful for the day

streaked red on pink

i want to return to that church someday

to test the ache

to trace my old footsteps

hopeful then hollow

to stand where i first lied

where i first claimed you

and to pretend just for a moment

that you're not memory

but there with me

down on your knee

waiting for a yes

[ceilidho]

LANDSCAPE WITH HONEY | MASTERLIST

PRICE x READER

You've been living in this town for almost six months; it's only now that John's picked up on your scent.

Or: the small town bear shifter au

tags: Size Difference, Size Kink, Dirty Talk, Breeding Kink, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Protective John Price (Call of Duty), Park Ranger John Price, Daddy Kink (mentioned), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, AFAB reader - Freeform, Bear Shifter John Price, Dubious Consent

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Or read on ao3

[hexiva]

Roleplay Is Not Dead Nor Doth It Sleep

There's a post going around about how text-based, freeform roleplay is dead, and I was typing up a huge response to this, with an accompanying guide on how to find roleplayer in 2024, when I realized it might have a bigger reach if I made it its own post. So here's that guide.

I hesitate to say that there isn't a problem with the new format of social media making roleplay more difficult to find, but in the desire to make that point, the OP of the original post has left people with the idea that there's no way for them to get into freeform text roleplay in 2024. Which just isn't true! Here, look at all the ways.

Forums

The link to RPG-Directory to find roleplaying forums is a good start. Once you've found a forum RPG, even if you don't join, there's usually an 'advertising' section on that forum where other forum RPGs post their ads - this may help you to find forums that don't advertise on RPG-D.

Another really good forum to find roleplay on is Barbermonger. Barbermonger is focused on connecting people for one-on-one roleplays.

This last one's going to be weird, but it turns out that there are still people seeking roleplay on the Gaia Online forums after all these years. I think this is delightfully retro and then crowd there seems a little older than average. No pre-existing knowledge of Gaia required.

Tumblr

You can also find forum roleplay groups (as well as tumblr and Discord groups) right here on Tumblr. Usually, the thing to do is to use the search function - search for "[genre] rp" or "[fandom] rp" and sort by "latest." (If you sort by Top, you are likely to find dead RPs.) For example, here's fantasy rp, historical rp, and marvel rp. You can also try jcink rp, as most roleplay forums are hosted on Jcink these days, or discord rp, depending on your favored platform.

There are also tumblr blogs specifically dedicated to advertising roleplays. I'm not super familiar with these nowadays, but just in the process of searching those tags above, I found these:

Jcink Tinder

RPG Adverts

RPings

There are more, I just don't know them off the top of my head.

Reddit

Listen, don't run away, I swear it's good now - I swear Reddit is good now -

Reddit is a good place to find Discord roleplays. It's a little heavier on smut-only roleplays than other platforms mentioned here, but it's not impossible to find sexless, plot-based roleplay here either. Most ads are for one on one RP, but you can find groups mixed in here too. The big subreddits for text-based freeform RP seem to be:

r/DiscordRP

r/RoleplayPartnerSearch

r/roleplaying

r/Roleplay

Some of these have weird rules about what you can put in your ad, and I don't remember which ones, so read carefully and don't get discouraged if your ad is initially removed.

Discord

In 2024, Discord is by far the biggest and most popular platform for roleplay, and it has its own native roleplay advertising hubs. Here are a bunch:

roleplay partner hub

Rockin Roleplay

The Roleplay Garden

roleplay help

the roleplay connection

RP Central

Roleplay Central

Roleplay Hub

Barbermonger also has a Discord server

Roleplay Meets: Reborn

RP Hub

The Scribes Guild

DM Rp Village

cherry blossom! roleplay hub

DM-RP

Roleplay Round Table (21+)

The Historical Syndicate (specifically for historical roleplay)

The Roleplayer's Directory

If you can't find the Discord roleplay you want on here, you can also try Discord hub websites, like Disboard. These work similar to tumblr tags - search for [genre] rp or [fandom] rp.

Other

The original post specifically mentions that 'all the old "omegle but for role play" type websites died out ages ago'. This is mostly true, but not quite! There's still Rolechat. It's a little janky, but what it needs more than anything is a bigger user base. Their Discord server is also a good place to find one on one discord roleplay. It is, of course, free, but if you want to support its development, they have a patreon.

Please reblog this post, and add your own tips on how to find roleplay!

[tolkiengenweek]

Hello and welcome to Tolkien Gen Week!

August 11-17, 2025

This is a week to appreciate all of the incredible characters and relationships within Tolkien’s legendarium that fall under the broad category of “gen.” There is a great wealth of wonderful gen content in the Tolkien fandom, but those creations are not always the most visible because of the shipping-focused nature of fandom at large. This week is an effort to give them the appreciation they deserve.

This year, Tolkien Gen Week will run from August 11-17, 2025!

Any content and creations are welcome as long as it is non-romantic and non-sexual! You can create edits, gifs, fanart, fanfic, fanmixes, and more! Please tag your posts with #tolkiengenweek AND @ mention this blog @tolkiengenweek so they can be easily found. If your submission turns into a long post, please put what you can beneath a “Keep reading” divider. You may also post your creations to our AO3 collection.

Below are some prompts for each day of the week. They are not mandatory, but they are here to inspire you. This post will lead to an explanation for each one.

DAY ONE: Family ● Mentorships ● Community

DAY TWO: Friendship �� Animals ● Group Dynamic

DAY THREE: Gray Spaces ● Enemies and Rivalries ● Fealty

DAY FOUR: Solo ● Work and Craft ● Language

DAY FIVE: Culture ● Diversity ● Traditions

DAY SIX: Environment ● Places ● Objects and Symbols

DAY SEVEN: Freeform

This event is being organized by @arofili. If you have any questions or suggestions, feel free to message this blog or my main.

For further clarification, check out our about, FAQ, code of conduct, and prompts pages! Happy creating!!

[hivemuthur]

Bestie. I know your requests are closed but I’m champagne drunk rn and I had to get this to you before the thought slips through the little wrinkles in my brain. So don’t answer until you want to answer.

party4u by charli xcx. Idk I’m always blasting charli but today something about this song just struck me. I feel like it could be either Viktor or the MC from Nothings New. Throwing a party for something seemingly random just in the hopes that the other would show up. The pining, the trying-hard-but-trying-not-to-be-noticeable-about-it. (Hope you walk into the party, cause I threw the party just for you)(called your digits but the phone kept ringin/wish I knew what you were thinking)

And then the blatant laying-bare-of-the-feelings ughhhhhhhh (if you saw my tears would you touch me? / kiss me on the mouth, say you love me?)(why you treating me like someone you never loved?)(all I’m thinking all I know is / that I hope you knock on my door)

Idk I just can’t stop thinking about it and I feel like only you could do something Viktor-related but also based on this song justice. You have this way of writing angst and feelings that I normally am afraid to explore (dread, anxiety, jealousy, anger, acknowledging the ugly parts of ourselves (like with The Ugly Thing)) in a way that is so delicious and makes me WANT to explore them.

Bestie, how do do you KNOW ME so well . Thank you for making a playground for me, seriously. I hope you can tell I loved this.

Come So Close That I Might See

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! a freeform of what was requested. Implied, but not included in the plot: Jayce and Viktor score a grant for their further science developments, silly Viktor offers to throw a party instead of just grabbing beers. AU Modern Era if you squint (like, phones are mentioned). Contains a lot of fluids :v

word count: 4K

author's note: not me incorporating sex into the request by default and then checking with the requestee only when I got to the condom part :v I also spent a lot of time on forums to get the Czech phrases accurately and it made me giggle how many Czech people went to forewarn the person asking that love confessions in Czech are dead serious and if they have a Czech girlfriend they want to say it to they have to MEAN IT (as a cynical, brooding, judgmental Slavic cunt I wholeheartedly agree). Translations at the bottom and title is from Mazzy Star.

This gets pretty gross, both in terms of sentimentality and bodily fluids, you have been warned!

artist on X (I'm addicted)

—

Never before had he so much as brought his teeth close to his fingers—unless it was to take a bite of something meant precisely for eating—yet now he finds himself absentmindedly gnawing at a particularly stubborn cuticle while staring at the tiny grey tick next to his message, waiting for it to turn green, waiting for it to become three jumping dots. Radiating unease, Viktor sighs out a rattled breath and props his chin on the heel of his palm.

Jayce huffs in the background, stacking the freezer with water poured into plastic containers, hoping it will turn to ice before the first person complains about the heat. It’s one of those unbearably sticky days with no sun, the clouds trapping the air, refusing to let it move, offering no reprieve to the sweaty—until, inevitably, it all gives way to a raging storm by nightfall. Curtains billowing and thunder roaring, hurried window-shutting and water pouring in through the cracks—tonight’s entertainment is already set.

Viktor does little to help, and Jayce doesn’t mind. After all, Viktor’s offer had been a timid one, seeming to stumble out of his lips before his brain could fully calculate the potential disaster of inviting people over. Any excuse would have sufficed, yet scoring a grant was big enough occasion to keep Viktor from backing out.

So he sits with a book, his phone resting in the book’s mouth, dimming every three minutes before he taps the screen again, worried he might miss your reply. He still doesn’t know if this reckless idea will come back to bite him on the ass—if you don’t show up he will have to spend the evening smiling at strangers, pretending to be overjoyed about this opportunity while, in reality, his soul withers away.

“I’m sure she’ll come,” Jayce says finally, three bottles of rum balanced in one hand, his right arm wrapped around a bucket of melting ice that stains his dark blue T-shirt. “Mel will be here—she’ll drag her in.”

“That’s a joyous picture to anticipate, isn’t it?” Viktor hums as calmly as he can, yet his finger is gnawed raw, an ugly shade of red. He scrunches his eyebrows at it, deciding it’s about time to leave it alone. “My friend dragged in to see me by force?”

“Figuratively. I don’t think Mel is that strong,” Jayce teases, setting the dripping bucket on the table, bottles clinking inside. He crouches close to Viktor’s legs. “If not, we’ll try to have a good time anyway. We deserve it.”

Jayce pats his knee, and Viktor fixes his eyes on something in front of him that isn’t Jayce, saving himself from the feeling of being picked apart piece by piece, examined from the inside out. A dreadful sensation, if anyone were to ask him. Everyone around him, save for you, thinks they’ve mastered the skill.

“No promises,” he says, sucking in some of the stale air and setting the book aside, though the phone remains in his hand. He should shower really, wear something that makes him look effortlessly put together—something that invites touch and makes him hug-worthy. But the idea of meeting his reflection sits in his stomach like lead. Whatever all those people, with their prying eyes, fail to notice, he will see in the mirror. And worse—you will see it, too.

It’s so unbearably hot that he takes the coldest shower he can without wrenching the air from his lungs. Cold enough that stepping out into the bathroom’s warm embrace is almost a relief. A quick shave, hair left wet to milk out as much of this fresh feeling as possible, knowing grime will coat him head to toe as soon as the apartment fills with faces attached to sweaty bodies.

Each buzz of the door has his heart flipping in his chest, and he scowls every time the person Jayce greets with a sticky hug is not you. He tries not to look disappointed when guests pat his shoulder and offer their congratulations, tries very hard to be grateful for having friends in the first place—but part of him deeply regrets that his brain didn’t catch the reckless blurt of “Or let’s have a party?” in time.

He’s on his third rum and coke, and maybe that’s why his defences are lower when he goes to answer the door this time, Jayce busy in the kitchen. The door swings open, and he’s greeted by Mel’s perfect face—utterly unbothered by the heat, only her forehead covered in a satin-like sheen, as if designed to enhance her beauty rather than ruin it.

And behind Mel is you, far less heat-resistant, yet for Viktor, far more beautiful. Cheeks flushed a healthy red, shoulders sun-kissed, draped in barely-there straps of a barely-there blouse, and his heart drops all the way down to where his second heart is, beating for you and you alone.

Mel, dignified as always, only ghosts a kiss near his cheek and hands him a bottle of wine before stepping inside, ready to kiss Jayce properly. You linger awkwardly in the hallway, kicking off your shoes before Viktor can tell you not to.

“Hi,” you say stupidly, waving at him.

He waves back, puts his cane on the coat rag, arms spreading just enough—not quite an invitation, not quite begging, but close.

“Are you sure? I’m very gross.” You glance warily at his crisp white shirt, wondering how he’s managed to look so sharp while everyone else sports the look of a wet rag. Sleeves rolled up neatly, showing off the freckles on his taunt skin, veins poking out, swollen with the impossible temperature.

“I don’t mind,” he mutters, already pulling you in. He feels the opposite of minding.

You smell of fresh perfume mixed with sweat, and when his hand comes to rest between your shoulder blades, his lips barely brush against your skin, the wine bottle presses against the small of your back. Viktor hopes some of your sweat will sink into his shirt, making you stay with him a little while longer after you leave.

How many times you've been at it, you don't know. It's always on the verge of something serious—yet the closer it gets, the faster Viktor pulls away. The tension between you has lingered since the moment you met, but you have no idea when it settled into this uncomfortable friendship. So distancing yourself, for a while, seemed reasonable. Now, with him wrapped around you, you don't know if you'll find the strength to leave.

You breathe him in, and the uneasiness seeps out of you in an instant. You’re not even that hot anymore. Goosebumps rise on your skin where he touched, and you can feel his lips curl into a smile.

“Congratulations,” you mumble into his chest, and he only hugs you tighter.

He plucks his cane from the empty coat hanger, hands you the bottle and leads you to the kitchen. Jayce pours you a drink, and the four of you sink into a conversation bordering on comfortable. How many times Jayce has to bite his tongue to keep from blurting out that the party was Viktor’s idea, only he knows.

The chatter eases into jokes and laughter at some point, and you can feel the alcohol warming your insides to match the heat outside. Air begins to stir as the predicted storm gathers, the kitchen growing more and more cramped. When a thunderclap cracks through the air, startling someone next to Mel, the contents of her glass spill onto your chest.

“Mel, do you have to? Always? When I’m wearing white?” You jump back instinctively, and Viktor’s fingers wrap around your elbow.

“Oh, darling,” she laughs, scrunching her brows in apology. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.” And indeed, it’s a curse—you should never wear white around her.

“I’ll give you something,” Viktor says quickly, already on a mission.

“I can get it, you don’t have to come upstairs,” you stop him with a hand on his shoulder and a smile. “If that’s okay,” you add, asking for permission to rummage through his closet alone.

He swallows and nods, searching for any good excuse to follow you—but at the moment, even his big brain can’t conjure one.

You drag yourself up the stairs, and the further you get from the noise, the more you realise how loud it was in the kitchen. It feels briefly odd, stepping into Viktor’s bedroom—you haven’t been here in such a long time. But as you cross the threshold, everything looks just as you remember. Maybe a few more notes scattered here and there.

You close the rattling window by his desk before the rain can soak into the papers, then move to his walk-in closet. As soon as you step inside, the scent of Viktor floods your senses, and despite yourself, you breathe in deeply.

Somehow, this feels safe. You run your fingers along his clothes, searching for your favourite T-shirt of his. But you linger unnecessarily long on his jumpers, bringing them close to your cheek and inhaling the scent of his washing powder. You’ve smelled this so many times, and it’s never enough, really.

You don’t know how much time has passed since you left the kitchen, but a voice knocks you out of your daydreaming.

“You alright?”

“Viktor.” You jump away, snagging a T-shirt in the process to make it look like that’s all you’ve been doing. “Shit, you scared me. Yes, I just—” you gesture to your chest, where a red stain from Mel’s wine blooms, “should probably clean off first.”

He nods, still lingering in the doorway, and you just stare at each other. Finally, Viktor speaks your name softly and props his cane by the wall. He means to say so much more than that, but he hopes you will see what he saw in the reflection today—and that you will understand.

And because you do, you reply with a warning.

“Viktor, no.” You shake your head and clutch his T-shirt by the collar in your fist. “How many times have we been at this?”

“Too many,” he breathes, closing the little distance between you in a heartbeat. His hands clasp around your hips, and Viktor rests his forehead against yours, whispering, “Too many. Make this the last one.”

“I’m—” you mutter, placing your palms on top of his. Scared is what you should say. Unsure would also fit. “Sticky,” you say instead.

He takes it as an invitation. In no time, your shirt is rolled up to your armpits, and even if you folded yourself in half and squeezed into his shelves, there would be no avoiding it. Viktor leans in and kisses your navel.

“I don’t mind,” he says, his hot breath mingling with your skin.

His tongue meets your stomach, and your spine stretches as you suck your belly in, only making the route for him longer. Timid at first, something inside him snaps when you moan and wrap your fingers into his hair. He presses his face into your belly, inhales deeply, and kisses with his mouth open until the sticky of Mel’s wine is exchanged for the sticky of his drool.

You tug him up by the hair, and he’s up immediately, pushing you further against the shelves, his torso flush against yours. Your stained shirt smears against his crisp white one.

“Viktor,” you mutter, stopping him from kissing you with a firm grip on his cheeks.

“What?” he asks, surprised. “Do you want me to stop?”

You take a shaky breath and burn your eyes into his, trying to dig out whatever courage you need to settle the needy thing thundering in your chest.

“Viktor,” you say again, buying yourself time. “If you’re messing with me again, I swear to God, I will eat your heart.”

“I’m not,” he says solemnly, a smile playing on his lips—possibly at the dramatics. But if he were being honest, he’d throw it away himself, the heart. It only causes trouble.

An ardent look lingers in his eye when he finally adds, “You can eat it anyway.”

You groan and wrench yourself away from him, suddenly feeling the suffocating heat striking back at you. He follows, leaning against the doorframe and watching as you pace up and down the room.

“What are you thinking?” he asks when you stop and sit on his bed.

“I don’t know. What are you thinking?”

“I—” he hesitates. Takes a few wobbly steps toward you, and when the mattress dips beside you, your legs touch. His hand skims along your inner thigh, and he leans in to kiss your neck. At least he doesn’t look so well put together anymore—his hair is mussed, his cheeks flushed pink, his shirt stained and rumpled where it’s come untucked.

“I want to lick your stomach some more,” he murmurs. “And then kiss you properly. And then—” His lips reach your ear, whispering filth that has your toes curling.

Somewhere in the apartment, the wind forces a window open, knocking something over—possibly a plant pot—causing a startled yelp from at least three voices below. The sound carries up to the bedroom.

You snap your head toward the door. It’s still ajar.

Viktor’s hand slips from your thigh as you get up, and he almost whines, reaching out to stop you—until he sees you’re turning the lock. Then you face him, all serious and reverent.

“I meant what I said,” you tell him, your voice weak.

“I am aware.” He nods, extending his arms toward you.

You come to straddle his lap, and he wraps himself around you. Your fingers pull his hair back from his forehead, and the way he looks at you is just unbearable. He rocks you back and forth to the rhythm of the song playing downstairs.

“I ruined your shirt,” you hum, pressing your thumbs to his temples.

He closes his eyes and hums back, “Good. I hate this shirt.” Wraps himself tighter around you and yanks you over, your back bouncing against the bed with a faint pop.

“Sorry,” Viktor chuckles, embarrassed, and kisses your cheek sweetly.

And he keeps his promise. Rolling your shirt back up, he glides his lips down your chest, along your sternum, until he reaches your solar plexus. He sucks your skin between his lips, breathing in the scent of his own dried spit mixed with wine.

You squeal at the sensation, hooking your foot around his hip. He yanks it away, tossing it aside, his hands clasping around your ribs as he plants hickeys onto your belly. There are so many things Viktor wants to say, but his tongue is too busy.

He wants to thank whatever force shaped your stomach so that his nose can fit there entirely, breathing in whatever happens beneath your skin. He could also thank whoever nudged Mel’s hand into spilling wine over you. And he could thank you for all those mornings when he wakes up drenched in thoughts of you, staring at the ceiling, the vignette of your kind hands is the only thing that stops his shoulders from hulking sullen.

He runs his fingers over the grooves where your ribs erode into hollows, licking there as well. And he wants to lick lower, where your skin disappears under the waistband of your shorts, into the subterranean darkness between your thighs. He wants to feel the pulse of your second heart on his tongue, to see if it beats for him as strongly as his beats for you.

As soon as his lips unglue from your skin, fingers hooking into the material to slide your shorts down, you tug at his hair again—reminding him of your lips. And that’s fine, because all he wants is to kiss all of you tonight. So he obeys, raking his hands up your sides before cupping your face, finally sinking his tired tongue into your mouth.

And oh, he still tastes of rum when you suck yourself off him, wrapping your legs tightly around his hips. His lips are love-bitten and swollen, and yours are just hungry for his. Suddenly, you hate his fucking shirt too. You pull at his buttons, and he chuckles, undoing them so deftly with one hand that it leaves you embarrassed.

You prompt him further—tugging at fabric, pulling impatiently, whining whenever the material refuses to simply give in and vanish. Clothes are discarded onto the floor in a flurry of awkward shimmying and frantic kicks, until he hisses at the faint pain the hurried movement has caused him. There is a bit more grace in you when you pull your top over your head and get rid of your shorts.

Soon, his body full of tumbled bones is naked against yours, pliant and warm. And you wonder how, even in this unbearable heat, Viktor’s flesh never goes soft. It’s always tense, always sharp angles, even as he wraps himself around you in a brief reprieve of a hug. He breathes you in deeply, gulping down whatever scent he’s left on you, his cock pressing heavily against your core.

And he doesn’t even know anymore if he wants to fuck you stupid or just hold you until the sun bleeds red through his blinds.

And the worst part of this dilemma is that he has to momentarily part from you to reach for a condom on the nightstand—and even if it will take mere seconds, he cannot stand it.

He feels so scrutinised under your gaze when you watch his trembling hands. Your fingers come to pluck the little wrapped thing from him, pushing him back against the bed frame. You break the foil, holding it between your thumb and index finger, then lean in to kiss his weeping tip. His head lulls back, eyes fluttering shut as you unroll it down his length.

He already looks so fucked out that you waste no time—taking him in hand and sliding him inside with a slow, burning stretch. His palms hover over your hips, catching you, steadying you. Once he’s buried to the hilt, a certain calmness washes over him—finally, he is hugged from all sides. Your arm wrapped around his neck, your pussy wrapped around his cock, your fingers wrapped around his as you inspect the wound he inflicted on himself earlier.

“What happened here?” you ask, kissing his knuckles.

“I…” His breath hitches as you take his fingers into your mouth. “I got impatient.”

“What about?”

He gives you a pained look and buries his face in the crook of your neck, fingers toying at your lips.

“You,” he admits, stretching out your lower lip. “It feels dreadful to say, but I almost ate my hand waiting for you to reply.”

“Viktor,” you whisper, placing a hand on the back of his neck, running your fingers through his hair. You clench around him, and he gasps, pushing his nose further into your shoulder.

“Don’t torment me, please,” he breathes. “I know I deserve it for all the torment I’ve caused you, but I’m not sure I can survive it.”

“I don’t intend to,” you say softly, rolling your hips against his. He groans, arms tightening around you. “I already told you what happens if you’re fucking with me.”

And then—that smirk you love so dearly. From between his lips, his tongue flicks out to stroke over your skin, traveling up your neck to your ear, where he whispers, “I trust we are differentiating between the categories of fucking.”

Your hips roll again, and his smugness unravels into a deep, sonorous moan. You take it from him greedily, sealing your lips over his. You kiss him open-mouthed, and Viktor responds with a palm crawling toward your clit, gliding over the plane of your licked-clean belly. It finds its warm home, and this time it’s your head lulling back, your mouth moaning as he plucks your hand off his shoulder, entwining your fingers together.

You grind down into him, bracing yourself on your handholding, hearts beating fast and breaths growing hoarse. His cock slides in and out of you in time with your hips and when you look at him he’s all there, present, eyes fixed on you, the focus of his hand between your legs is unwavering. Big brain pays off in times like these when the ability to multitask is worth more than any healthy muscle. And Viktor does little to no work with those, only guiding his hips upward gently each time you come down to slap your ass against his thighs.

He's either learnt it all from years of observation and the half-truths exchange between you, the almost-kiss moments, the falling-asleep-together-by-accident moments, the I’d-rather-watch-crap-with-you-than-get-laid moments, when each of you chose the insufficient each other over another one night stand, or his cock was just made for you.

And you already suspect all those moments were worth it before you are completely certain. Before he twitches inside you hitting the sensitive spot that has you gasping for air and his fingers on your clit speed up, he does another thing. He looks at you longingly and his mouth parts and it’s barely a murmur, a secret gifted to you and only you, even though everyone knows already.

“Ma lásko,” Viktor rolls off his tongue. “Miluji tě,” he whispers, kissing your knuckles. “Byl jsem hloupý,” comes next, and even though you don’t understand, somehow—you do.

“Prosím, odpusť mi. Moc tě miluji,” he murmurs, offering his heart for you to devour if you so chose—but you only tighten your grasp around his fingers and press your lips to his forehead, hoping to do his native language justice when you repeat after him, “Miluji tě.”

This almost undoes him entirely, and to ruin him further, your cunt tightens by the second as you clench around his cock, creaming all over his fingers. But Viktor keeps up, thrusting his hips upward to meet yours, drinking in the sound of his own name falling from your lips as you spasm and tremble on top of him, squeezing his hand until his knuckles turn pale. He kisses you through it, moaning into your mouth as he feels himself teetering on the edge—until a thought invades him abruptly.

He pushes you gently onto your back and crawls on top awkwardly before you can complain about the sudden feeling of emptiness. Enters you again and fucks into you a few more times before pulling back out, sliding the condom off, and stroking himself until he paints your belly in hot white. Eyes hooded, you watch his face—flushed and sweaty, mouth hanging open beautifully, brows scrunched as he pumps the last drops of cum onto your skin. Then, he collapses beside you, kisses you gratefully, and runs his hand over your stomach, smearing his seed all the way up to your breasts and neck. It then spreads across your cheek, drying out like an egg white, tightening your skin before Viktor slides his wet fingers up into your hair.

A laugh, stupid and fucked-out, escapes you as you ask, “Are you going to lick me clean now?”

But Viktor says nothing—though you know he would if you asked. Instead, he wraps an arm around you, pressing your stomachs together with a wet slap, hooks a leg over your hip, and kisses your swollen lips. “Miluji tě,” he repeats, as if saying it during sex doesn’t count.

“Miluji tě,” you whisper back, and he chuckles at how awkward yet sweet it sounds from you. “And thank you for throwing this party.”

“It was only for you,” Viktor says, deciding that honesty is worth more than saving himself from embarrassment. And thankfully, you choose not to tease him further—since, at last, his heart is laid bare before you. You’ll eat it next time all right, just not the one that keeps him figuratively alive.

—

*ma lásko - my love *miluji tě - I love you *Byl jsem hloupý - I've been stupid *Prosím, odpusť mi - please, forgive me

[tolkienocweek]

Tolkien OC Week

A fandom event for OCs and underdeveloped characters in Tolkien's world!

This event celebrates both characters of Tolkien's world and our own characters that need more love, by creating and reblogging all kind of fanworks, like fanfiction, fanart, fanvideos, fancrafts, headcanons, playlists, edits, moodboards etc.

The event is modded by @yellow-faerie and @elamarth-calmagol, and will take place between 25th August - 31st August 2025 for the fourth year running.

NSFW text entries are allowed and we’ll tag them accordingly when we reblog them, but please put them behind a “read more”.

We'll also be tracking the tag #tolkienocweek during this week!

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Event schedule for 2025:

1. Family Members (25th August)

Tolkien may have given us all the family trees of the hobbits, but he definitely didn't finish the ones for elves, dwarves, or rangers. Add an original character to a gap in a family tree, such as a missing wife, or create a whole new family member, like a second child for Galadriel and Celeborn.

2. Diversity (26th August)

It isn't the 1940s anymore! Create an OC whose race, culture, gender, sexual orientation, neurotype, or disability differs from what people usually imagine when they picture Middle Earth. For a world to feel real, its people must be diverse!

3. Forgotten Characters (27th August)

With so many versions of his stories, Tolkien dropped a lot of characters along the way. Choose one of these forgotten characters, such as Finwe's daughter Faniel, and share a fanwork about them.

4. Alternate Universes (28th August)

Share an OC from an alternate universe, such as a modern character isakai-d into Middle Earth, a daughter for Feanor, or a post-canonical love interest for someone who died in the original story. Anything goes!

5. Relationships (29th August)

Today, share an original character who is close to a canon character in some way. The relationship does not have to be romantic or sexual. The characters might be friends, colleagues, neighbors, or even arch enemies. What matters for this prompt is exploring the relationships between the original and canon characters.

6. Off the Map (30th August)

Tolkien's maps only stretch do far into the east and south, and his images of Valinor show even less. Today, give us a character who doesn't live within the bounds of the canonical maps. Maybe they live in Harad or Rhun, or the briefly mentioned continent created to the west of sunken Numenor when the world was made round, or even another planet within Arda.

7. Freeform

Every fandom week has to have a free day! Choose a prompt to do a second time, expand on an OC you already shared, or share an OC that doesn't fit any prompt.

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Since we want to celebrate creations about neglected characters all year long, the mods will occasionally reblog posts and fancreations about OCs and underdeveloped characters. If you would like to see your post on our blog, you're very welcome to tag #tolkienocweek. Since tumblr's tagging system is often being faulty, don't hesitate to message us, too!

We are looking forward to see and share all the awesome work you come up with!