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 July 6-12, 2026!
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 FAQ, code of conduct, and prompts pages! Happy creating!!
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 July 6-12, 2026!
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 FAQ, code of conduct, and prompts pages! Happy creating!!
This is a week-long event celebrating the ladies of the line of Finwë! There have been events within the Silmarillion fandom focused on the sons of Finwë and their descendents, and to add to the fun this week was established to give his wives, daughters, and other female descendants their own time to shine.
This year, Finwëan Ladies Week will run from November 17-23, 2025!
Any content and creations about the ladies of Finwë’s line are welcome! You can create edits, gifs, fanart, fanfic, fanmixes, and more!
Below are some prompts for each day of the week. They are not mandatory, but they are here to inspire you. This page will lead to a detailed explanation for each one.
DAY ONE: Míriel Þerindë and Indis
DAY TWO: Findis and Írimë Lalwen
DAY THREE: Aredhel and Galadriel
DAY FOUR: Later Generations
DAY FIVE: Ladies Who Married In
DAY SIX: Original Characters
DAY SEVEN: Freeform
This event is being organized by mods Anna @arofili and Elle @elesianne. If you have any questions or suggestions, feel free to message this blog or reach out to Anna on their main blog. Anna runs on Pacific Standard Time, and Elle runs on Eastern European Summer Time, so we will be active and modding on those schedules, although you are free to post your content at the time most convenient to you!
For further clarification, check out our about, FAQ, and prompts pages! Happy creating!!
Art trade with the amazing @mikhalson !! It was sooo fun and cool! Here’s lil Legolas skipping around with the crown, and Thranduil chasing him xD go check out @mikhalson’s post, it’s amazing!!!
Dwelt in the mountains of the East, the distance between their mansions in the East and the Misty Mountains, specifically Gundabad, was said to be as great or greater than that of Gundabad's distance from the Blue Mountains in the West.
@tolkiengenweek Day three // Enemies and Rivalries
⁶⁄₇ of dwarven clans » Firebeards
The Firebeards in Nogrod were responsible for making the Nauglamir, a gorgeous necklace made of the treasure saved from the ruined elven kingdom of Norgothrond. Though the necklace was made for the elven-king Thingol, coveting it for themselves the dwarves killed Thingol and stole the necklace. A few dwarves escaped and brought reinforcements back from Nogrod, but the elves defeated them and reclaimed the Nauglamir.
@tolkiengenweek Day two // Animals ● Group Dynamic
⁵⁄₇ of dwarven clans » Longbeards
The Longbeards are held as a divine and sacred lineage by the other clans and command great power. Righteous heirs of Durin I The Deathless. They awoke originally in the Misty Mountains and were responsible for such kingdoms as Moria, Erebor, the Iron Hills, the Grey Mountains, and the Glittering Caves.
Thank you so much to everyone who participated in Tolkien Gen Week 2025!! It’s truly an honor to see all the amazing content you’ve created <3
As always, you can continue to submit your creations at any time, even though the event has concluded! Late submissions are always accepted, and if there is ever any gen content you make outside of the event, I am happy to boost it! Just tag the blog as you would for the event, and I'll keep an eye out. The AO3 collection will also remain open.
This is a Gollum/Sméagol gets a forehead kiss fic! And Sam too, for good measure.
I'm also dropping the AO3 link to the story in case you'd like to drop by and leave a comment, it'd mean a lot to me 💙
Warning: Sméagol's movie accurate fatphobic name-calling of Sam
Wordcount: 1.8k
@tolkiengenweek
Frodo made a start as a wriggling creature dropped on his lap. With a last agonizing contortion, the fish went flaccid. Before him, Sméagol celebrated the demise of his latest prey, bouncing on his hands and heels in exultant glee.
"Sméagol found nice, fresh fish! Nice fish for dear Master, yes!"
Sitting on a rock a few steps behind Frodo, Sam looked up. He had just been counting the rations of lembas bread they had left, and there was a disgruntled twist to his lips.
"What difference will a meager fish make? Even the weedy conies you brough before were meatier than that."
Like piercing icicles, Sméagol's pale eyes ripped through Samwise's figure, seizing him up from head to toe.
"All we gets is complaints, yet Sméagol works hard for ungrateful hobbit not to eat dry elvish bread! Sméagol goes into hidden pools to catch fish while men patrol the land, and almost gets caught, all for Master and Master's friend, but Sméagol doesn't complain!"
Akin to the rippling of a deep, blue pond quieting, Frodo's gaze turned less alert, a softening of his features that lend them the youthful air they had effortlessly worn once. The more they went on towards the South, the less color or life they came across, but for the Gondorian scouts that they barely kept evading. The country was progressively greyer, and the vegetation, sparser. Yet, everyday, Sméagol would go out of his way to feed not only himself, but to bring his hunt to them. And despite Sam's grumbling, Frodo could sense his relief each time it happened.
"Not complaining? Well, then what is it that you are doing now?"
With those words, Sam earned himself one of Gollum's snarls.
Frodo shook his head in exasperated fondness. "That is quite enough, the both of you."
The bickering duo turned to Frodo at the same time. Sam's face colored with a hint of annoyance, but he kept silent for the most part, except for the last look he threw at Sméagol, which said everything.
Frodo sighed. "Sméagol, come here."
At his beckoning, Sméagol's face changed. He bowed his head, which bobbed in an excited tick as he peered up with big, round eyes. "Yes, yes, good Sméagol listens to Master's call. Yes, good Sméagol, good…"
"Sméagol, Master has an important question to make," Frodo stated.
"A question for Sméagol…?" Sméagol blinked at those words, taking a moment's pause before nodding his head vehemently, a docile smile to his rotten teeth. "Sméagol listens, and Sméagol answers, yes Master!"
Frodo let Sam's skeptic glance roll off his shoulders, his own gaze bearing into Sméagol's. His enquiry was menseful, yet hearful as he set it forth. "What could be done to reciprocate the care you have shown us?"
A stiffled harrump surged from behind him, but Frodo waited.
Smeagol's brows crinkled disorientedly, head cocked quizzically to the side. Then, his chin dipped down in a shake of denial. "No… Sméagol…"
For once, he seemed to be grappling with a loss of words. His head sagged, and then jerked up again, a thin smile on his lips. "Master needs not think of repaying Sméagol's kindness! I am happy to serve Master, who looks after Sméagol oh so kindly, and even cares for ungrateful hobbit!"
"Even?" Sam grunted indignantly. "Excuse me? I was here first!"
Coaxing Sméagol's attention to stay on him, Frodo inquired, "were you not expecting to receive anything in return?"
Sméagol nodded. "Sméagol cares only about Master's happiness! Master needs to keep his strength, so Sméagol brings good catch for Master."
As Sméagol talked, he eyed him and the fish intermittently, waiting in silence; he seemed to not have given up yet on Frodo trying it raw, as he liked it, but he knew better than to provoke Sam by insisting.
"It is a great catch," Frodo humored in a gentle tone. "And Master would like to express his gratitude. Allow me at least an appreciatory gesture."
There was not even a huff this time.
Silence settled.
Sméagols eyes were splayed open, his pupils making a run across Frodo's features. As his emarcid lips slacked open, they mouthed the words. "Appreciation… For Sméagol?"
In spite of his hesitation, or in response to it, Frodo pressed forward. "May I?"
Suddenly, Sméagol squatted on his two legs. He balanced his weight from one foot to the other while his fingers scratched on the hard ground. A catlike grunt reverberated in his throat, and his gaze finally climbed up, narrowed over Frodo for an instant. "Master is honest… Master grant Sméagol a sign of his appreciation?"
The nervous incredulity in Sméagol's voice caused a throbbing pang in Frodo's chest, amplified by the oppressive weight resting where the one ring touched his skin. How long had this creature gone without a touch of humane warmth? How long had it been since he had been anything other than reviled? And how much longer would he have to endure that miserable existence, in which acknowledgment was beyond recall and possibility?
"Sméagol, allow me to get close. Trust Master." His appeal was plainly spoken, coming through more patently in the deepening blue of his gaze, which sunk into Sméagol's with a tenderized gleam. Sméagol shuddered; the relentless passage of time was still fresh on his wrinkled and spotty skin, in the dip under his cheekbones and ribs, and the quivering of his jutted form. Slowly, he came to halt his fidgeting, and forced himself to stay in place.
"…Master…"
The word was unsure, small. Expectantly, Sméagol's eyes dug into him. A weary exhale left Frodo's lips. Yet, the faintest trace of a smile spread on them.
"Good Sméagol…" In a pacifying intonation, he repeated the words Sméagol would tell to himself; the words Sméagol would have only heard from himself, and none other, until this very moment. Shifting, Frodo moved close enough to catch the acerbic smell the other exuded. Reining in the adverse tug at the pit of his stomach, he breached the distance that had always remained between them.
Underneath him, Sméagol's breath hitched, accompanied by a loud gasp. With no other touch, but that of his lips, Frodo caressed the grainy rumples scrunching up on Sméagol's forehead; his skin was cold to the touch. But Frodo lingered. He lingered, long enough for that single spot to be tempered by the smallest, and biggest measure of warmth this poor being had received, and perhaps would receive, in a long, long time.
As Frodo released him, Sméagol emitted a wounded whimper. His eyes had been shut; now, they roamed over Frodo's face unblinkingly. "Master…"
Frodo took in a breath of cold air. He felt drained. Nonetheless, the weight of the ring was somewhat alleviated; if by wishful suggestion, or the retreating of the dark in sight of a slice of light, he was not sure. His features were soft and contemplative, silently observing the change in Sméagol's demeanor, how he took a hand to his forehead and allowed himself a faint grin.
"Soft…" Sméagol muttered to himself. "Never soft… Always cold… Always hate, always disgust… Not like Master…"
He sat in still silence, as if abstracted from his surroundings.
Amidst the still quietude, Sam's scoff broke through. "Unbelivable…" he grumbled to himself, although loud enough for Sméagol to snap back into focus. His pupils shrank, poking holes at him from above Frodo's shoulder.
"Fat hobbit durst doubt Master's kindness, does he, precious?"
"I only doubt who that kindness should be directed at," Sam spat out. Unable to resist any longer, he left the rations of lembas bread alone to step in. He crossed his arms as he stood between Frodo and Sméagol, forcing the latter to retreat.
"You better not get any funny ideas. If you think you can leech off Mr. Frodo's generosity for some dark purpose, you are very wrong."
Sméagol's lips drew back in a crooked smile.
"I see, I see…" with a bounce on the balls of his feet, Sméagol let out a petulant snicker. "Sméagol understands, he does, precious, he does indeed! Fat hobbit wants Master's kindness for himself, don't it? Fat hobbit is jealous of Sméagol!"
At those carelessly thrown accusations, Sam's face paled, and subsequently, reddened. "Hey, wait a moment! In what twisted fantasy of yours would I ever feel jealous of you?"
Sméagol's head shook up and down with his jeering laughter.
"It does, it does!" He paused to flash Sam a venomous grin. "It wishes Master would kiss it instead."
Sam glanced helplessly at Frodo, but his cheeks only turned a brighter shade of scarlet.
"I do not! I do not envy being pitied, thank you very much!"
"Fat hobbit is so funny," Sméagol continued, voice smooth and condescending as he gave the hobbit a once over. "Good Sméagol gets a kiss from Master without asking, so it wants a kiss too."
The blush had quickly scattered over Sam's ears, too, his no-nonsense attitude now reduced to a broken charade as he gaped in place.
"Mr. Frodo, don't listen to this… This… Ruffian! I do not… Not…"
Frodo smiled. From his sitting spot, he served him the raise of an eyebrow.
"You do not… What, Sam?"
"Just…! I don't… I'm not a desperate little-!"
Sam gabbled helplessly, his torment becoming worse by the minute, as Frodo's teasing gaze remained on him, and Sméagol's laugh echoed in his ears.
"It's just… Nevermind! I'm on cooking duty, so give me that, Mr. Frodo!"
Kneeling with haste, Sam reached for the fish. He was about to rise up when a couple of hands landed on his cheeks, and he only could flinch before a warm sensation announced itself through the affectionate brush of Frodo's mouth on his bangs.
Sam's skin was warm, and rising in temperature, under Frodo's fingers. While his lips caressed the younger hobbit's forehead in a sweet touch, the earhty scent of Shire gardens filled up his nostrils in return.
Sam batted his eyelashes quizzically, headiness and embarrassment flushing him down to the neck. "Mr. Frodo… What was that for?"
Frodo gazed at him; his smile, although still sporting traces and hints of teasefulness, was undeniably earnest. "Oh, nothing much. Just… Everything."
Poor Sam looked like he was two degrees away from becoming the cooking fire.
"Well, that fish won't remove its bones by itself…" He coughed, eyes darting away as he got up. "Or fry itself, for that matter. I'll get the pans."
He began to slide away, fish in hand, while Sméagol trotted on all fours behind him. "That is Sméagol's gift for Master! It ruins it again!"
"Silence, you!"
"Spoiling sweet, juicy fish that Sméagol caught…!"
"Hush!"
Frodo stared after them, a soft smile delineated across his features. The land grew desolate; the quest grew darker. And doom was impendent. In spite of which, even if he did not understand why, for a moment a fleeting thought seemed undisputable: neither life nor color were yet out of reach.
