Scribbles & Drabbles returns for 2026! Take a look at the schedule and get excited!
June 1: Sign-ups and art submissions open
July 7: Artist sign-ups close
July 19: Art submissions close
July 24: Gallery opens
July 25 & 26: Art viewing parties
August 1: Claims Day (Times to be announced)
August 2: Additional Claims Open
August 3: Art posting begins
November 1: Drop-out without penalty deadline
November 15: Fic submission deadline
November 28: Reveals!
We'll have a rules update coming soon for you as well, so stay tuned for that. As always we're available for questions on discord, tumblr and via email at [email protected].
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
I walk through the seasons with a friend by my side
story by @thedaughterofshadows art by @anerea-lantiria
for @tolkienrsb 2025
Rating: General Audiences
Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: Gen
Fandom: The Lord of the Rings
Characters: Original Dwarf Characters; Original Female Dwarf; Characters; Entwife Characters
Summary:
The Entwives fled their gardens when Sauron burned them, but new growth can be found in the unlikeliest of places, and far to the East, on the shores of the sea of RhĂťn, a new home was waiting for them. A new home, and new friends.
This story accompanies Laida, a dwarf, through a year in which she spends time with her entish friends, contemplates their joint history and discusses art and gardens alike.
There's a monster in the water;
There's a palace on the sea floor;
There's a treasure in the palace;
There's a secret in the treasure;
The monster wants the secret...
...or so they say.
Ratings: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence
Category: Other
Fandoms: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
one my stories for @tolkienrsb this year! I got to work off of @thedaughterofshadows 's art and had a fantastic time! we've got Weird Ocean Times, we've got the patented lotro 'throw a rivermaid in there', we've got the nameless. we're having fun!
I am so absolutely delighted by what came out of this that I have already read it twice
If any of the above sounds appealing to you, go do yourself a favour and read this wonderful story!
My second TRSB fic this year was for @anerea-lantiria's gorgeous art Tawar (Woodland).
It is always an incredible pleasure to work with AnĂŠrea, not just because she is a fantastic artist, but also because it is always great to collaborate with a friend. There is a special freedom and joy in writing for somebody whose likes and dislikes you already know.
Ents and dwarves were only one of the options AnĂŠrea suggested on her art slide, but I grabbed it and ran away with it to Rhun.
Those who know me, know that I can't resist a good worldbuilding story, and "I walk through the seasons with a friend by my side" very much is exactly that.
Presenting one potential answer to what happened to the Entwives, this story follows Laida the dwarf and Brightblossom the Ent through one entire year, from Spring to Winter, as they explore what sets them apart, what holds them together, and most of all, what they have learnt from each other in the years of their friendship.
The story is rated G and no archive warnings apply, it's heavy on the worldbuilding and light on the plot, and full of OCs.
I had the pleasure to write for @caiti-creative-corner's incredibly fun prompt about the artistry of men for this year's @tolkienrsb.
What started with 500 words quickly scribbled down about Adanel and her family, grew into a story that traced the experiences of many generations of Men through the lens of cooking.
It's a tale of community and sharing good food with the people you care about the most.
Here is where you can find "The Most Important Ingredient is Love".
The story is rated T, spans characters from the first to the third age, from Adanel and Belemir, all the way to the Dunedain of the Grey Company.
No archive warnings apply, but it does contain gratuitous talk about stew, as well as some discussion on potential and actual character death. Overall mood tends towards fluff and happiness though.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
We're back for another year! Come join us for the fifth installment of Scribbles & Drabbles!
Sign-ups will open on June 1 for both artists and authors, so be on the look-out for that!
Further important dates include:
June 1st: Sign-ups and art submissions open
June 30th: Artist Sign-ups close
July 15th: Art submissions close
July 25th: Gallery opens
July 26th & 27th: Art Viewing Parties
July 27th: Author Sign-ups close
August 2nd: Claims Day
August 3rd: Additional claims open
August 4th: Art posting begins
November 1st: Drop-out deadline
November 15th: Fic posting deadline
November 29th: Fics revealed
Please make sure to familiarise yourself with the rules (General FAQs and Art Slide Information Guide (mostly relevant to artists)) before signing up. Changes have been made this year, so even if you have previously participated, read through them so you are aware.
A summary of the rule changes is provided below the cut, but check the website anyway, especially if you haven't participated before.
Artists:
New artists may submit up to 5 pieces (7 if they are creating their own slides)
Returning artists may submit up to 8 pieces (10 if they are creating their own slides)
If you request a moderator to create your slides, the background will be full black, blue or white, depending on what the moderator thinks gives the best contrast to your art.
You are reminded that the minimum word count is 100 words, and that your MHs must be short enough to fit into 100 words. We recommend to focus on 3 items that are especially important to you. If your MHs are a full drabble by themselves, you may be asked to amend them.
Keep in mind that art is intended to inspire authors, not to find a ghostwriter for your ideas.
For relationship and character suggestions, we recommend adhering to the tags as given on AO3 (/ for romantic/sexual relationships, & for platonic relationships, + for queer-platonic relationships (and all others outside of established norms)). Please also stick to the common given names of all characters instead of nicknames to make it easier for those who are new to the fandom to find characters they care about.
Authors:
We have clarified what is and isn't allowed when artists do not post their works publicly. With the artist's permission, you may embed their art in your story on AO3. You may not post the art on other platforms. If the artist does not agree to have the art embedded, link to the gallery directly.
You are reminded that if you do not think you can adhere to the artist's DNWs and MHs, you should not claim the art.
General:
We have updated our rules on AI usage. You can find the full ruling at the bottom of the FAQ page.
Many thanks to @thedaughterofshadows for creating the graphic!
April 6 - First Meetings, Impressions, The Heart Stirs. (A Gaze Caught. The Fire Ignites. "Eru save me, I've found my doom.")
April 7 - Dedication, Courtship, The Heart Blooms. (Flowers and Letters. Words of Love. "My heart, my love, my eternity. My soul soars for thee.")
April 8 - Marriage, Vows, The Heart Bound In Love. (An exchange of rings. Families bound. "In joy and suffering, in life persevering, in death enduring, I take thee and thee alone.")
April 9 - Kingdoms, Refuge, The Heart Endures. (Crowns of silver. Realms rise and fall. "Blessed are they who stand before the darkness and do not falter.")
April 10 - Separation, Conflict, The Heart Grieves. (War and loss leave wounds. Paths diverge and change. "I must follow this thread alone, but not forever.")
April 11 - Lothlorien, Children, The Heart Heals. (Wounds become scars. A silver realm. "Let our children bring joy amidst darkness.")
April 12 - The West, Undying Love, The Heart is Eternal. (A test endured and passed. A goodbye, but not a farewell. "In life and eternity, endless bliss under golden trees.")
Her friends all do â even Eryalcar, Avarin like her, boards the ship that will bear him West. But then he has never seen how the stars shone over CuiviĂŠnen; and besides, she knows, he hopes to find their fallen lord again beyond the Sea.
LisyaĂąguriye is old. She refused the Huntsmanâs call long before the sun first rose; she has no more desire to see them now than when he first came with tales of the western lands. In Middle-Earth she was born, and in Middle-Earth she will remain.
She bids her friends farewell, watches until the sails of their ship pass beyond the horizon, and then she turns eastward.
Long she wanders, ever following the rising sun, to the place where her people awoke. CuiviĂŠnen is gone, the lake long dried, but there is no other place in the world that has been home to her, and so there she lingers.
The years fall on and on and turn into Ages, and LisyaĂąguriye remains. Her hrĂśa grows lighter even as time weighs heavy on her, until at last it fades away.
The horn sounds, calling her houseless spirit West, but she does not heed it.
created for @spring-into-arda's Basketball Championship.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
He could see through his Silmarils. He could not, while he yet lived; he had been too bound to his own form for that. But now - now there was very little to divide him from the bits of his spirit he had so recklessly bound within them. If he was willing to turn his strength to it, he could see the molten rock slowly cool; he could see the waves churn and calm and churn again.
He could see a ship and the endless night the light from the last of his gems pierced. And from that lofty perch he could catch scattered glimpses of what that light touched.
Trees burning upon a mountain. Boats fighting against a storm. Grass bowing before the wind.
A fox in the woods. A woman upon a horse. A man holding a child.
Scattered glimpses that meant little or nothing to him.
Still. In the depths of the cold Halls, that was where he turned his mind again and again, no matter how much strength he spent in the doing.
Somewhere under his last work of light, he had a son still walking.
And Feanaro would not rest in his search until he had found him.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
In accordance with my family tree project she couldn't stay at quite the design I had for her before, but I personally love, love, love the hair (which she now gets from her great-grandmother Indis) even though I suck at texture
todayâs (well, yesterdayâs) sketches and ficlet for @spring-into-arda B2MEM music prompt, featuring Finarfin and a bonus Baby Finfin. Prompt lyrics included âIâll tend to the flame, you can worship the ashesâ.
Sketches are very rough for this one, apologies, but I was on a train and even Michelangelo did not paint the Sistine Chapel sat inside a Great Western Railway stopping service.
When he was knee-high, Finarfin had been Baby Finfin. Best-boy Finfin, eats-his-vegetables Finfin, easy-bedtime Finfin. He was content with unsolvable equations, and if bedtime was bedtime, then fine. In a way, he has not stopped being Baby Finfin.
Baby Finfin never really had anyone to play with because he was a baby and everyone was much, much older than him, and sometimes he would sit sulkily at the window all day long, stubbornly counting out the seconds. Sometimes he would tire of that, and so he would stomp back inside and build himself a house of wooden blocks and tell himself that it was just as good as racing horses in the fields outside like the big boys did.
It is much the same today.
Finarfin the Penitent lives half-awake as always, uneasy and inbetween, the lonely god of an empty world. Ponds and shallow hills and bedroom-shrines, dusk and dogged determination. He commissions statues to be carved from the steadiest stones and tells himself they are likenesses. In the face of loss he tells himself there will be a gain, that he will see everyone again. He puts mirrors at the end of most hallways in the palace, and is confident in their ability to reflect reality whilst providing the illusion that he is not alone. Finarfin sweeps up ashes and tells himself it is incense. He airs out empty rooms.
Dreams, however, persist. In Finarfinâs dreams there are miraculous returns, done things undoing themselves and it is fuelled by one of these dreams that he makes an effort to befriend his wan-faced granddaughter. CelebrĂan is as lonely as he is here, and their odd little friendship is dictated not by their blood tie but by their twin desires to tow lost ships back to their lonely shore.
âArwen is a little like you,â she says. âAlways sitting by the window waiting for people to return. Just like that, big-eyes and pout, my very-good girl.â
They look at each other and shudder. The fear of the left-behind steams up the mirrors, and they clasp their hands and tell themselves it is not foresight masquerading as hindsight but in fact the other way around. All their lost things would rise drenched from the sea, Finarfin tells himself, and there will be such glad cries all around. All will return. That other shore is only meant to contain them, not keep them. It is a repository, not an archive, this Middle-Earth.
Most of the time he thinks about the past. What happened then happens now in his mind, slippery and pervasive, piling up yeni after yeni. He turns old sequences over and over in his head, kneading the edges smoother and smoother until it is only rides-on-shoulders and stuck-in-apple-trees. He waits and watches, and knows that one day his future will come sailing sluggishly oversea, heads cast down, and on that day he, Finarfin the Penitent, will be magnanimous and benevolent and forgiving.
Until then, he is six-years-old with starfish hands, baby Finfin, best-boy Finfin pressed nose-to-window. He sits quietly, counting down the seconds till familiar faces crest snowcapped hills, and break through the bated blur of his breath.
