#tuggershanks

[junkyard-gifs]

tugger knows he's the cutest Skimble fanboy out there, everyone else can go home

Shiki, Nagoya 20/7/2000. Probably Masaru Yamaki as Tugger, Yoshinori Momo as Skimbleshanks, Kyoko Sato as Victoria, and Yoko Ishii as Jenny.

[emimii]

No pressure to draw if you don’t like the ship/don’t want to for any other reason, but could we get a tuggershanks sketch? Love your style it’s so cute ❤️

HIII ANON I DONT MIND!!! im a multishipper ill ship most things as long as its cute to me and not illegal! thank u for the ask and complimeeenttt <3

[skimbly-shanks]

Thinking about them

Tommie Luyben as Skimbleshanks

Alex Snova as Tugger

Filmed by @falasta and @cryptidvoidwritings

[cryptidvoidwritings]

instagram story: May 24, 2024

[skimblygifs]

Unexpected Parallels

Jeremy Davis on how Skimbleshanks views the Rum Tum Tugger // Michael Sheen on Aziraphale's favorite thing about Crowley

[whitmerule]

(ficlet! little tuggershanks+bombastrap with some tuggerstrap drabble, plus angst of trans tugger escaping from his crime lord dad when pregnant.)

(@skimbly-shanks and i have a WHOLE AU...)

--

“Yours”, purred Munkustrap, the night breeze cold on the back of his neck and Bombalurina’s nape warm and willing under his lips. “Such as I am, yours. With all my faults, all my follies…”

He never would have thought he’d find a woman who could understand and reply to his John Donne quotes, but—

“... yours utterly and forever”, she finished for him, all amused heat as his mouth skated up the side of her throat. “While this poor passionate mountebank body has hands to hold you and lips to say ‘I love you’...”

They fell through their front door, his hands already sliding up to cradle familiar curves and tease at her buttons and ties. But even as the latch snicked, she tensed up in his arms.

He lifted his head, and saw what she saw.

There was a pot of water cooling on the stove, and the package of baby formula nearby.

Munkustrap let out a breath. His arms tightened around his wife. Then he dipped his head and nuzzled softly against her shoulder. 

“I’ll…” he said, and gestured toward the bedrooms, and she nodded and said “You know he only crashes here when he’s desperate,” and headed for the pantry.

Turned out, he hadn’t got as far as the spare bedroom.

Munkustrap sank to his knees in front of the armchair and laid a soft hand on his arm.

“... Tugger?”

He was gaunter than ever. The hair that he’d used to toss around fell lank and lifeless over too-sharp collarbones. His face was stubbled—not in a sexy deliberate way, but in the way of a trans guy who was currently producing a lot of oestrogen and didn’t have time for a razor. 

Patchy. Pimply. Starved.

Munkustrap reached out his hand, and laid it over the most tender part of him, which was the baby cradled against his ribs.

Carbuckety stirred, and yawned, and fisted his chubby oblivious hands in his papa’s shirt, and went straight back to sleep.

Tugger just kept on snoring.

“Tugger,” Munk insisted softly. Achingly.

One year ago, this man had been the swaggering audacious poster child of a crime syndicate’s new regime.

One year ago, he had been his father Macavity’s darling, and never had to pay for anything or clean a single dish.

One year ago, his shirt would have been designer and barely worn. Now, a fraying seam of cheap cotton sagged off one shoulder, where he tugged it down every time he had to feed the baby.

(Munkustrap had never prodded at the edges of Tugger’s gender dysphoria. But he strongly suspected that breast-feeding was a practical necessity born of poverty, not a… joy.)

(Which would be why he and Bombalurina kept formula and bottles in the kitchen all ready and waiting. Even though Jemima was almost entirely on solids now.)

“Tugger.”

Munkustrap gently tried to prise Carbuckety from the protective curl of his arms.

That got a reaction. The eyes flew wide (too wide) and Tugger’s other hand lifted in something like a swipe. But it fell away, and sagged into his lap, and Tugger grinned groggily at Munkustrap, and tipped his sleepy head back against the sofa.

Munkustrap sighed loudly at him, and carefully gathered the baby into his arms.

This time, there was no resistance. 

Carbuckety made a happy soft noise, and punched Munkustrap in the face with vague baby fist-flails. Munkustrap sighed at him, and kissed the fists.

'Skimbleshanks'. That was the name of the man who had so carelessly begotten this... this entire human being on Munkustrap's friend. And then left.

Of course, Tugger swore that he'd been the one to leave, that he'd had higher standards. But he would say that, wouldn't he. And Munkustrap had seen the way Tugger's self-esteem had crashed after... well, was it really even a break-up if the other guy had never regarded him as more than a convenient lay?

“When did you last eat a full meal?” Munkustrap asked Carbuckety.

“Fuck off,” Tugger grumbled half-heartedly. And Munkustrap pointed out, “There is a bed eight metres away and you know you’re welcome to use it,” and Tugger growled and grabbed at his shirt front and dragged him (or his baby) in closer and turned his head helplessly in against them.

“The kid always eats,” Tugger found it necessary to point out, even though Munkustrap knew that, knew Tugger would sacrifice anything to make his baby happy for one more hour.

“Yes,” Munkustrap purred, against the side of his head, and didn’t add, but do you. 

Carbuckety yawned, and squirmed, and blissfully added another burp stain to Tugger’s shirt.

“Shut up,” said Tugger anyway, and Munkustrap’s heart clenched, and he drew Tugger’s head in softly (unresisting), and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Tugger’s breath hissed out in a rush. Just for a moment, he almost began to sag in against Munkustrap’s body—to rely on his strength.

Munkustrap leaned in against him, breathing in, one hand still cradling the child. Their fingers interlocked.

“Soup’s up,” said Bombalurina from the door, holding three steaming mugs—and both men pricked their ears, and turned to her with relief.

[skimblyshanks]

Hi gamers can I interest you in some uhhhhh

Uuuuuhhhhh

UUUUUUHHHHHHHH

UUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHH

MEOW MEOWS???????

Post source

[iszacstartown]

Just getting the full spectrum of my art out there

[skimblys-den-of-sin]

Tuggershanks, 25? 👀

NSFT Prompt List

25. Public play

I don't even have anything to say for myself I just blacked out and there were 2 pages of nonsense

                “Oh my good lord.” Skimble fought to keep his voice low, scooting away from Tugger, who simply kept his lips pursed in that damned smile. “Tugger, I swear to God, I—"

                “You’ve had me spend a day out with a vibrating plug,” Tugger smirked. Skimble gestured for him to be quiet, looking around, flustered.

                “That was different,” he whispered, shooting Tugger a glare. “You were actually wearing pants!” Tugger stretched out with a yawn, and Skimble pushed his posture back in. “We are getting off at the next stop and so help me, I will—”

                “Are you sure you want to go Dom-Mode on me? Like this?”

                If looks could kill.

                “I am getting off at the next stop. I would appreciate it if you would as well.”

                “You didn’t have clothes shopping on the schedule.”

                “I didn’t have you pulling this on the schedule either.”

                “Well, I dare say that’s on you.”

                Skimble grabbed the base of Tugger’s neck and squeezed. He immediately wished he hadn’t. He wished some other things, as well; namely that it hadn’t been a warmer day, or that  he’d learned his lesson to be suspicious whenever tugger seemed on his best behavior. But wishes did not make Tugger cease to be sitting next to him, commando and in tight trousers. Wishes would not materialize a spare jumper to throw on Tugger’s waist until Skimble could herd him into a pair of pants. He spared a glance. Tugger was in repose. He released his neck with a light push. Tugger pouted.

                Entering the store, Skimble pulled Tugger down to his level. “You are going to wait in the changing room. I am going to buy you pants. You will let me know your stall. You will put on the pants. I will figure out a punishment later.” Skimble dared to look toward Tugger’s trousers. He regretted it. “Go.”

                Tugger pulled the curtain closed, and plopped onto the miniature bench. The erection was straining his crotch seam. He debated his options. It was a slow enough day, from the sight of the storefront, and Skimble didn’t say he couldn’t…

                Then again, he also didn’t say he could. But he did say there’d be a punishment. He was already mad about the situation…

                Then again, wouldn’t this help relieve the situation?

                Then again, it would leave a mess…

                Then again…

                Skimble parted with £9 to purchase a pack of briefs. If he was glad of anything, it was that, by now, he was well acquainted with Tugger’s measurements. He made his way back to the changing stalls, clearing his throat to announce his arrival. No answer. He sighed; he really should have been used to this by now.

                “Tugger?”

                He heard a strangled curse from behind a curtain.

                Great.

                “Are you turned away from the curtain?” A pause.

                “…I am now.” Skimble tightened his jaw.

                Tugger realized, now, that jacking off in front of a disappointed dom who will not look at you was decidedly not the hottest thing for him. Or maybe it was, the erection wasn’t going anywhere, but if that was the case, he still felt abashed under that gaze.

                “I’m sorr—”

                “Finish before you speak.”

                Tugger felt a stinging in his eyes. This felt different than usual; worse than regular humiliation; more punishing that their usual discipline sessions. He couldn’t keep his hand moving; it fell to the base of his shaft, fingers shaking as he tried to contain his shame. A sniffle came out louder than intended. A deep sigh as Skimble turned around.

                “Tugger, I—”

                Tugger was staring toward the ground, tears dripping down silently, embarrassed and ashamed. Skimble softened despite himself. He reached out to cup Tugger’s cheek, brushing it off with his thumb, tilting Tugger’s head to meet his eyes. He lifted his hand away, moving down to grasp Tugger’s hand in his. Holding Tugger’s hand in position, Skimble resumed the other man’s masturbation. With the occasional glance toward the curtain, especially when footsteps came closer, Skimble otherwise maintained his new position, staring Tugger in the eyes as he  helped to jerk the man off.

                “…I don’t have a napkin,” Tugger murmured, almost to climax. Skimble smiled.

                “Of course you don’t.”

                Tugger barely managed to choke back a shout as Skimble dropped to the ground to take his cock into his mouth, sucking it down until Tugger was done. Then a swallow, standing back up, and an even stare as Tugger rose as well, slipping out of his shoes.

                He let Skimble undress him, inching his trousers off from his sweat-slicked skin. He kept quiet as he was consequently re-dressed; silent as a pair of briefs were slid up his legs, wordless as hands made sure his member was properly tucked in place; only softly breathing as the trousers came back up. He was quiet as they left the shop, quiet as they waited for the next bus; quiet as Skimble let him board first.

                He found his voice again once Skimble began working a hand through his hair, murmuring plans for the Proper punishment once they got home in his ear.

[ratherchaseamouse]

💚🩵❤️‍🩹

💚 a ship that you think deserves more love:

Tantoteazer!!! I can’t put my thoughts into coherent enough words to argue on behalf of them but cmon lesbians!!!!

(I can’t see which emoji the middle one is so I’m just guessing)

🩷 a ship that you like, even though it could never work in canon:

Will I get yelled at for saying tuggershanks? Whatever I’ll say it anyway. I don’t think about them often, but it kinda makes sense in my head.

❤️‍🩹 a popular ship that you just don’t get:

Altugger, idk I just find it really boring and flavorless. Also asparalorum because I can only see them as family.

[hapalopus]

Who's up for some.... Skimble/Tugger?!??!?

(Grønnegade 2022, Denmark)

[junkyard-gifs]

tommieshanks: fusses at snovatugger (his legs may be tottery boy!!) snovatugger: o right right, on it, is this correct? tommieshanks: (you see what I have to put up with)

tommieshanks: fusses at snovatugger snovatugger: yesdear ilu2 tommieshanks: fretful leg touch

tommieshanks: must continue to comment

tommieshanks: snovatugger: bap

just. tommieshanks. also, snovatugger.

(That is:) Tommie Luyben as Skimbleshanks and Alex Snova as Tugger, being the most co-dependent and tactile. And also: the Skimble who most micro-manages Tugger and the Tugger who most embraces that!

Vienna revival, 22/6/22. Filmed by @cryptidvoidwritings and @falasta

[storyweaverofgondor]

Tuggershanks edit

Me: *drags myself home after a long day at the Renn Fair* Ugh. time to relax a little then head to bed - I FORGET TO POST SKIMBLY'S BIRTHDAY PRESENT!

Happy Birthday, @skimblyshanks! I hope you like your gift. Sorry it’s late.

[skimbly-shanks]

Tuggershanks, “try and get some sleep.”? 👉🏻👈🏻

@cryptidvoidwritings

Send a Five-Word Prompt for a Five-Paragraph Fic

Skimble stared out from a capsule of blankets at an infuriatingly tidy domicile. It was a Sick Day; a burned-in-the-shower-to-alleviate-the-fever-chills, hack-up-a-lung-and-last-night’s-dinner Day. But life doesn’t stop for Sick Days; there are still children to send off, still chores and upkeep to perform; still food to prepare; perhaps he could call off work, but it all depended.

Rather, life wasn’t supposed to stop on Sick Days. And yet here he was, stuck on the couch while Tugger decided to brandish his rarely-seen responsibility. Skimble, from his initial spot hunched over the toilet, had overheard Tugger calling the other man out sick from work. He cleaned up Skimble’s sick without a complaint; walked him to the living room and sat him down, weighing him in blankets before Skimble could fight it. He’d just sent the kids out for school. And now he was prepping for dinner. From all angles, it looked like Skimble, for once, really would get a Sick Day off.

And he hated it. The whole thing made him antsy; he couldn’t dampen the feeling that something was missing. He was certain it would go wrong if he didn’t do something, whatever ‘it’ was. He couldn’t even offer banter about Tugger’s stew; everything was too stuffed up.  The floor was too clean. The atmosphere was too homey. The blankets were too comfy. Something was bound to give; the bough had to break.

Skimble was brought back to the present with a steaming cup of tea placed on the table in front of him. He didn’t have to taste it, he was too sick to properly taste a thing anyway, to know Tugger made it just the way he liked. Tugger always watched him make tea with that stupid wide-eyed stare. The way the day was going, it only made sense that Tugger spent those staring-times absorbing every piece of information. It’s probably perfect, Skimble pursed his lips. Like everything else today.

“Don’t give me that face,” Tugger tutted admonishingly, tucking another blanket around Skimble’s smothered form. Skimble turned to stare back blearily. He barely registered the kiss on his forehead. “There’s still something very important that only you can do.” Skimble stared back; disbelieving, but still curious. Tugger dropped down on the couch next to him, feeding an arm around the mass of blankets.  “Try and get some sleep.”

[cryptidvoidwritings]

[skimblygifs]

Tuggershanks