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uppastthejelliclemoon · 6 months

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Cats 1998 Anniversary Celebration

Day Six: Favorite background moment- Misto almost getting hit in the face with the ball during RTT

Tugger grinned, kicking the ball as Plato tossed it to him. He could feel Mistoffelees’ eyes on his back, the small smile that was no doubt on the other tom’s face, and his swagger increased.

The maine coon had meant for the ball to be caught by his lovely magical mate.

He had meant for it to be a flirtatious toss, accompanied by a wink and an eyebrow wiggle to make Mistoffelees blush and roll his eyes in that wonderfully aloof way of his.

However, as he watched the ball soar towards Mistoffelees, Tugger’s eyes widened in horror as the ball’s trajectory went straight towards the black cat’s face. Luckily, Mistoffelees diverted the direction by sending the ball over his head, but leveled the maine coon with an unamused stare as Tugger went back to singing.

Oh, he’d be paying for that later.

Later happened to be during the Dance, when Tugger approached Mistoffelees to pull him into a short duet, as they always did during the Ball. He held out his paw, but Mistoffelees sniffed playfully at him before turning tail and joining Cassandra in a duet, as Alonzo was entertaining his younger brothers.

Tugger was left wide-eyed and jaw dropped as he heard Munkustrap’s muffled snickers behind him. He turned to glare at his brother, who simply gave him a shit-eating grin and spun away with his own mate.

When it came time for Victoria and Plato’s dance, Tugger approached Mistoffelees, wrapping an arm around his waist and tugging him close, leaning against their pipe as they watched the dance.

“It must be nice for Vicki to have a mate that doesn’t try to kill her.” Mistoffelees mused, even as he nuzzled against Tugger’s mane.

Tugger let out a groan, burying his face in Mistoffelees’ shoulder. “I’m going to be suffering for the rest of the week because of that, aren’t I.”

Mistoffelees laughed, the low, quiet sound making Tugger fall in love all over again. “Maybe for a little while.” He turned his head, kissing Tugger’s jaw gently. “Though your face when it happened was probably the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I thought I was going to hit your face.” Tugger whispered, dramatically draping himself across his mate’s side. “The thought of damaging your beauty… it would have been a tragedy.”

“The real tragedy would be Vicki and Plato seeing that we’re talking during their dance.” Mistoffelees replied, but he lifted a paw to run through Tugger’s mane.

Tugger hummed in agreement, his eyes locking onto his two very best friends as they began to dance with each other.

After a moment, he spoke once more, voice only audible to his mate.

“Does this mean I’m forgiven and we can forget that ever happened?”

“Ask me tomorrow when my sister’s not performing her mating dance with our closest friend.”

“So no?”

“No, darling.”

“Shit.”

#cats the musical #cats 1998 #rum tum tugger #mr mistoffelees #tuggoffelees #cats 1998 anniversary celebration #y'all thought you were escaping this week without me writing some tuggoff???#liv's writing corner

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katzenprinz · 1 year

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Tuggoffelees prompt: Tugger follows Misto to his human home and becomes the thing that wouldn’t leave.

“…what is-“

“I don’t know, and he won’t leave.”

“Did you take him outside?”

“Yes! All morning! Every single time he’s gotten back in somehow. The windows are all closed and locked. I shut the chimney flue. I even checked the attic, but there are no holes. It’s just like-“

“Just like when Butler disappears and we look everywhere just to find he’s been asleep on the back of the couch the whole time?”

“Pretty much.”

“Where is Butler?”

The woman points at the very large, very fluffy creature now occupying the entire circumference of a basket with a round pillow inside it. Amongst the fluff, when the man leans closer, a small black ear can be seen.

“I think Butler brought him home with him,” the woman says. There is a pause. “He didn’t want to cuddle with me at all, but he followed me all over the flat for a bit and let me rub his ears. Even the little tufts. And the two of them have been inseparable.”

The man crosses his arms over his chest. “It was enough of a fight already finding a flat that would let us have one cat. They’re not going to allow us two. And I’m not sure that thing is even a cat. Not a domestic one, anyway. He’s got stripes and spots, both.“

“I think he’s what’s called a cashmere bengal. I looked up cat breeds. But he’s definitely also maine coon. That’s why he’s huge.”

On second look, the man can’t even see the basket that the ‘cat’ is curled up on because he spills out of it so much.

“We still can’t-“

“If you can get him to leave and not get back in somehow, then fine,” the woman says, even as she reaches over to stroke the strange cat’s fur. “But you know Butler always somehow does his vanishing act any time our landlord comes round. For all they know, this handsome beast could’ve always been our one cat we moved in with. Aaaand, Butler has cried every time I’ve tried to put his friend out.”

The man doesn’t seem convinced, and bends down to lift up the sleeping cat. It immediately awakens and writhes to escape his grip. And from the basket, a tiny meow of protest roses from the now-revealed black and white cat that is Butler, who is less than half the strange cat’s size.

Two hours later, the man slumps onto the couch. The woman laughs as the cat who had just been yowling at him and scrambling to get out of his grasp jumps up onto his chest and lays out down practically the whole length of the man. It begins to purr so loud it could probably be heard over half of London.

“Alright. I give up. He can stay.”

The woman beams, going to the hall and then quickly returning holding a black leather collar studded with tiny spikes. “Thank god!”

#cats the musical #mr mistoffelees #the rum tum tugger #tuggoffelees #sorry this one took me forever to respond to!!#this may not have been what you had in mind but I hope you enjoy it~#holden writes #my writing #drabble #cats the muscial

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eccentric-curious-cats · 2 months

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Where’s Misto?

Based on an Anonymous ask sent to @aclairvoyant that gave me Tuggoffelees brainrot.

Summary: Tuggoffelees. Misto takes a nap with Tugger basically laying on top of him. The tribe thinks Misto has gone missing. Chaos ensues. Munkustrap probably has a headache. ~1500 words. Rated G. Not beta’d.

~~~~

It was a chilly day in the junkyard, even out in the sunlight. As the humans might remark casually over breakfast, “it’s cold for autumn” and “don’t forget your cardigan, dear.” For Tugger, the cold weather didn’t matter much—his thick fur kept him cozy and comfortable even in the winter (although he practically roasted in the summer).

Most of the cats had dragged old blankets and towels into the sun to make temporary nests with their friends as they dozed through the morning and afternoon. The kittens played, warming their bodies with movement while the older cats watched with amusement. Pouncival and Tumblebrutus had been practicing relentlessly to mimic some of Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer’s acrobatics, and they had made some good progress and impressed Electra, Etcetera, and Jemima with their attempts.

Tugger had arrived at the junkyard and drawn all of the kittens straight to his side, with excited squeals and Etcetera begging him to dance for them.

Mistoffelees had come to the junkyard, as he normally did, alongside Tugger. Their humans were neighbors and it was only sensible to walk together, regardless of their relationship. While Tugger greeted and gently teased his fan club, Mistoffelees slinked up onto the old oven, which was gently bathed in sunlight, waving his tail in polite greeting to Munkustrap and Demeter, who were cuddling atop the tire, and Alonzo who was sprawled out in the middle of the yard looking dead to the world.

While Tugger sang and danced among the kittens, Mistoffelees dozed in a tightly curled ball, ears twitching when the kittens squealed but otherwise paying no mind to the antics of his mate. At some point, the black tom must have drifted fully into sleep as he was awoken by a thump as a cat leapt onto the oven beside him. He cracked open one eye, though he already knew who the other cat was.

“Have your fans finally tired of you, Rum Tum Tugger?” He asked, a small smirk spreading across his face as his whiskers twitched in amusement.

“Of course not,” Tugger huffed as he stretched, ruffling his thick mane, “Jenny came to collect them for a nap.”

Mistoffelees hummed and closed his eye, nestling his nose between his paws with a shiver.

“Speaking of naps,” Tugger yawned.

Before Mistoffelees could encourage the Maine Coon to continue, a warm weight flopped on top of him.

“Tugger, you’re suffocating me,” Mistoffelees complained.

Tugger shifted, moving more of his weight off of Mistoffelees but keeping him buried under his thick fur and mane.

“There, all comfy and cozy. You can thank me later, Mr. Mistoffelees,” Tugger said smugly, settling himself comfortably.

“I’ll admit, your fur is nice when it’s this cold, but I thought the Rum Tum Tugger didn’t care for a cuddle?” Mistoffelees teased with a purr, rubbing his face against Tugger’s pelt fondly.

“I’ll happily make an exception for the marvelous, magical Mr. Mistoffelees,” Tugger replied.

The two toms fell asleep on top of the stove, quietly purring each other to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It must have been hours later, as it was dark when Tugger next woke. There was a sizable group of cats gathered by the tire, with Munkustrap standing atop speaking. Tugger pricked his ears to listen to his older brother.

“And we are certain that nobody has seen Mistoffelees since this afternoon?” Munkustrap asked the assembled cats and received shaking heads and worried murmurs in response.

Tugger watched, curious, as Munkustrap paced atop the tire before sitting down to address the crowd again.

“Cassandra, Alonzo, and Skimbleshanks, can you go check the western edge of the junkyard?” Munkustrap asked, and the aforementioned cats nodded, splitting from the group and disappearing into the garbage piles.

“Victoria, Plato, will you make sure he hasn’t returned to his humans’ home?”

The young couple darted off.

“Jenny, can you and the kittens double check the main yard? Maybe he’s tucked away in some corner napping.”

Jenny nodded, gathering the kittens like little soldiers and instructing them on how and where to look for the missing tom.

“Demeter and Bombalurina, can you check the eastern side?”

The two queens vanished into the trash with waves of their tails.

“Where will you check, sweetheart?” Jennyanydots asked, turning her attention away from the kittens to look at the Jellicle protector.

“I,” Munkustrap said with a massive sigh, “will go check Tugger’s den.”

That was when Tugger realized that he should probably speak up. Afterall, his den was a disaster and it would be embarrassing for his older brother to see it. Yet Tugger was so comfortable and sleepy, snuggled up with Mistofellees, that he decided to let it be and closed his eyes again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Munkustrap was frantic as he returned to the main yard, where many of the other cats were returning from their searches. Mistoffelees was nowhere to be found.

Sure, the black tom was more introverted than some of the other cats and tended to avoid large groupings when he could, but to have him absent for an entire afternoon and evening without so much as a glint of his eyes or flicker of his tail was concerning. Afterall, a pair of stray dogs had moved into the alleyway behind the nearby Italian restaurant, according to Bustopher Jones, who had a run-in with the two when he went for dinner with a friend. Of course, Macavity was also an ever-present threat, especially following the last ball when Mistoffelees was able to rescue Old Deuteronomy from the mystery cat’s clutches.

And Tugger, Munkustrap lamented, had hardly stirred at the ruckus. If he hadn't been too worried about Mistoffelees, he might have chewed his younger brother out for his disinterest in finding his mate. In fact, Munkustrap almost wanted to claw his brother, how dare he be so unbothered. At the very least Tugger could get off his lazy rear and help, instead of lounging on the old oven and barely paying them any mind.

All of the other cats had returned to the main yard and were looking anxious and worried. Nobody had found Mistoffelees. Munkustrap hopped back atop the tire and looked at the small crowd.

“It doesn’t seem like Mistoffelees is with his humans or in the junkyard. Does anybody know where else he might be hiding?” Munkustrap asked, a bit desperately.

Heads shook and Victoria sniffled, worried for her brother.

“Then we will have to extend our search into the city. Alonzo, Plato, and I will go.”

“What? Why not all of us?” cried Tumblebrutus, “we can help, too!”

“You will stay here in the junkyard, in case Mistoffelees comes back,” Munkustrap soothed.

“Precisely, and must I remind you that there are nasty dogs about? No, you kittens will stay right here with me,” Jenny butted in, rounding up the kittens somewhat frantically, “there will be no leaving the yard with those monsters out there, not on my watch.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Plato, Alonzo and Munkustrap began gathering themselves to leave the junkyard, Old Deuteronomy appeared from the piles of garbage. He was greeted, as always, with excitement from the kittens and respect from the older toms and queens.

As intuitive as he was, he surely felt the tension and concern in the air, particularly from Munkustrap as he fondly greeted his father.

“My son, what has happened? What has you all so worried?” The old cat asked.

And Munkustrap explained, concisely, how Mistoffelees had not been seen for some time and the search efforts conducted at his human home and throughout the junkyard which had turned up empty. Old Deuteronomy nodded, sagely, and turned his head to look up at Tugger on the oven.

“And have you asked Tugger where Mr. Mistoffelees might be?” Old Deuteronomy asked the silver tom, with a chuckle.

“Tugger,” Munkustrap sighed, “has refused to get up and help us.”

“But did you ask him?”

“I–” Munkustrap stuttered, “no, but–”

“Excuse me, Tugger,” Old Deuteronomy called up to the oven.

“Hello, Old Deut,” Tugger called, blinking his eyes a few times and yawning.

“Have you seen Mr. Mistoffelees lately? Or do you perhaps know where he might be?”

“Misto? Of course I know where he is,” Tugger replied, fluffing his mane.

“Where?” Munkustrap demanded, ears pinned back in frustration.

Tugger sighed dramatically and stood with a stretch, revealing a disheveled looking Mistoffelees, who raised his and blinked drowsily. Munkustrap seemed to deflate as all the worry and stress from the evening left him in an instant.

“Ah, there he is. Good evening, Mr. Mistoffelees,” Old Deuteronomy said warmly.

“Oh, hello Old Deuteronomy,” Mistoffelees replied sheepishly, scratching behind his ear.

Old Deuteronomy turned to Munkustrap with a heartfelt smile before glancing back up to watch Tugger pull the smaller tom closer and begin grooming his ears. Tugger glanced down at Munkustrap and smiled smugly, and Mistoffelees looked down at the gathered cats with confused, owlish eyes.

#tuggoffelees #fanfic #mr mistoffelees #quaxo #rum tum tugger #munkustrap #old deuteronomy #cats the musical #cats the musical fanfic #my writing #text

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the-cookie-of-doom · 4 months

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The Birds and the Bees (Gets Kim On His Knees)

Summary: Sex pollen AU Kim is getting POLLINATED. Bee boy Chay thinks he’s the prettiest flower in the bunch and he’s getting all up in his vase. (sober note: Chay is not actually a bee boy)

It starts out perfectly innocently, okay? Chay had a plan, and that plan was to woo Kim, because after his delightfully sweet confusion upon receiving the guitar pick from Chay was any indication, he’s never been romanced before, and Chay is going to romance him so fucking hard. There’s going to be chocolate and dates and flowers.

The flowers are the important part. Chay went into the florist with a polite request for something special, bc his honey only deserves the best, and he can’t remember the name of the flowers that were neatly wrapped into a big, fluffy bouquet, but it was pretty, and it sounded expensive, and Chay didn’t even bother checking the price tag before his handed over his credit card. Worrying about the price of things? That’s a Before Chay problem. Now Chay has mafia money, and he’s going to spend it on flowers to make his boyfriend blush, and no one is going to stop him.

The flowers make Chay blush a little bit, too. He gets all shivery and warm under the collar as he carries them out of the shop, little white flecks dusting all over him.

“Have fun,” the florist tells him on his way out the door, waving and laughing. “Don’t forget plenty of water.”

Duh. Chay knows how to keep flowers alive. Or, keep them from wilting, at least for a few days, bc technically they’re dead now that they’re cut. He’s giving Kim a dead gift. But that’s okay bc Kim gave him a bar fullof dead gifts, and these ones are prettier. They smell better, too, and they may be snowing bits of white fluff everywhere, but they aren’t going to leave so much of a mess. (Poor Yok had to close the bar for a month.)

Back at the apartment that Chay does not share with Kim, even though hes there more often than he isn’t, because kim hasn’t offered, and chay hasn’t asked, and besires, hia would probably kill him, anyway. Say something rude about a love nest, which is absolutely not what it is. (It’s exactly what it is.)

Without the use of his hands, given the *massive* bouquet, Chay has to settle for knocking his feet and elbows against the door until Kim gets the hint and opens it for him.

“Chay?” he asks, peering around the flowers, and oh, right, he probably can’t actually *see* chay like this. He ducks his head around the side and grins, then thrusts the flowers into Kim’s arms. He’s getting tired, and he needs a glass of water. Carrying those things has been making him sweat. Who knows flowers could weight so mich?

“Hi, honey,” CHay greets cheergully. “I’m home!”

Kim’s fae goes from confused to preciously warm and soft and chay wants to kiss him, bc he’s *so* cute, he actually can’t take it. Who said his boyfriend could be so cute? Kim is supposed to be hot and sexy and intimidating. Cute is cay’s thing. But Kim, bc he isn’t fair, bc he’s blessed, is everything. He’s so good and sweet and he’s watching chay with eyes so fond and warm they could melt chocolate, and Chay has to kiss him about it. Right? Kim’s his boyfriend now—it’s their 1 month anniversary—which means he gets to do that now.

The flowers are in the way, though.

Chay takes them back. Says, “These are for you, by the way,” as he carts them over to the table, and Kim closes the door, and follows after him with an indulgent smile.

“What’s the occasion?” he asks.

“You, duh. I just.” Chay puts the flowers down. He arranges them carefully, fluffing out the thick white buds. ROcks back and forth on his teeth. Twists his hands in his sweater. He loves Kim so much and he has no idea how to hake his boyfriend understand. “I’m just—y9ou make me so happy. And I’m really lucky to be with you. So, yeah. Flowers. For you. Bc you deserve nice things.”

“Chay…”

Kim comes up behind him, because Chay, flushed from the tip of his nose to the tip of his ears, does *not* look at him. He wraps his arms around CHay’s middle and nuzzles into the back of his hot neck, planting a soft kiss there.

“I love you,” he murmurs into the sensitive space behind Chay’s ear, making him shudder. “Thank you, love, they’re really pretty.”

“You’re pretty.” Chay ducks his head down but he lets Kim spin him and kiss the top of his head. “I need some water.” He’s still burning up, and now he’s certain it’s the embarrassment more than the thirst, but if he doesn’t drink something cold now he’s going to melt into a puddle on the ground. So he darts away and Kim lets him go with a laugh.

It gives him the opportunity to look at the flowers closer, leaning down to take a deep inhale. The fluff flaking off from the fleshy pink middles must egt vaught in his nose bc he starts sneezing, and chay giggles from the kitchen.

“SOrry they’re getting pollen, like, everywhere.” Like dandelions, almost. Except these flowers are more than balls of white, tufty seeds. The petals are thick and full, white around the edges, then peachy pink in the middle, and at the very center of them, where the petals are folded together the thickest, they turn a lurid, dusky purple. And those white tufts of pollen drip out from that tight furl of petals.

Kim straightens back up from his fit, and has pollen all in his hair and dotting his cheeks. Chay coos at him. He looks like he went frolicking in a daisy field.

[commercial break for porn]

“Chay—Chay, those flowers—”

“I know,” Chay groans, dragging Kim into a fevered kiss. Fuck, what was wrong with those flowers? He should have—he should have realized something was off, as soon as he started getting warm, and they florist—telling him to remember plenty of water for them, him and Kim, not the flowers, of fucking course. God, how could he have been so blind.

“Chay.” And Kim—Kim is whining. That was definitely a whine. High and plaintive and pleading, and Chay has to take a deep breath before he comes on the spot.

This is fine, everything is fine, he’s in control here. He’s barely affected. See? Look, P’Kim, he can walk in a straight line, straight to their bedroom, because he’s fine. Chay isn’t the one that decided to inhale a lungfull of sex pollen.

Kim looks out of his fucking mind with it, though, little white flecks speckled through his hair, his pupils completely blown. Like a cat when it sees something in wants. Kim is looking at Chay like he’s never wanted anything more in his life, and it’s a heady feeling, to be on the receiving end of that gaze. For all Kim has become a whimpering limpet, he looks like he’s going to each Chay alive as Chay pushes him down onto the bed.

“Are you okay?” Chay asks, on top of him, kissing his throat, because he’s a gentleman. Porsche raised him to be very considerate of his partners, and dammit, he’s going to make sure Kim is comfortable and taken care of!

“Yes, Chay, yes, I’m so okay, fuck, are you—” Kim tugs at Chay’s shirt, seemingly forgetting how buttons work in his desperation to get it off of CHay. he settles for digging his fingers into the spaces between the buttons and yanking, ripping it apart.

Once again Chay is taking several deep breaths.

Do not come. Do NOT come, he tells himself.

Unfortunately his inhale led to a little tuft of pollen going right up his nose, and he snuffles a few times, trying to get rid of the tickling feeling. Now that he knows what he’s looking for he can feel it as the warmth spreads through him, spreading from his nose to his face and down his neck, and then it reaches his heard and flows through all of him, coalescing at his dick.

Which Kim is determinedly trying to free from the confines of Chay’s slacks.

Why did he decide to give up his usual uniform of tshirts and sweatpants, again? Dressing up for his boyfriend is overrated when he could be undressing for his boyfriend instead, and that’s a lot harder to do wrapped up in said boyfriend the way he is when he isn’t wearing something with a forgiving degree of stretch. He tries very hard to wiggle out of the stiff slacks while also palming Kim’s ass, which isn’t helpful at all, but it is nice.

“Chay,” Kim complains, and there’s that whine again. God, it shouldn’t be as hot as it is. It really shouldn’t. Except for the fact that it means Kim is utterly and relentlessl desperate for him, which means it’s approximately the hottest thing he’s ever heard.

“I’m trying,” Chay says, except he isn’t actually trying at all. He manages to pull his hands away from Kim long enough that he can open up his pants and kick them down his legs, while also trying to divest Kim of his own clothes, and somehow that ends up with both of them in a tangled the floor. Chay isn’t sure how that happened but there’s a dull ache in his shoulder and hip telling him that gravity was involved.

Kim, straddling Chay’s thighs in an instant, doesn’t seem to mind the position change. In fact he takes full advantage, throwing himself on top of Chay and kissing him absolutely breathless. CHay isn’t complaining, that’s for damn sure.

“I need you ti fuck me right now,” Kim demands.

“Yes. Yes yes yes.” Chay scrabbles on the floor, hoping for lube to magically appear when he needs it most. Unfortunately it does not. He makes a mental not to hide lube fucking everywhere later, just likekim has guns and knives hidden in all the nooks and crannies around his apartment, that way they can both be prepared for anything. Bc chay wants nothing more than to fuck kim on every available surface, please and thank you.

Today that apparently includes the floor, and honestly? Chay isn’t hating it.

“Lube, P’Kim, we need lube.” No way he’s going to fuck him dry. Because again. Gentleman. COnsiderate lover. All of that.

Except Kim makes a noise like—like—chay doesn’t know what it’s like. It’s high pitched and maybe kind of worried? And he’s reaching back between his legs, and his brows are drawn together as he scrunches his nose up in that cute way he does, and lips are parted so sweetly, and—

Before CHy can kiss him about it, Kim pulls his hand back, his fingers glistening with something that looks a hell of a lot like lube, except for the fact that they have no lube, as previously established.

“I think maybe we don’t?” he says. His voice, normally rough and deep, goes somewhere high and unfamiliar.

What the fuck, Chay thinks.

“What the fuck,” he says out loud. Kim’s eyes are wide and wild and is laugh is a little bit hysterical. Chay should probably worry about that. Try to calm him down maybe. Except he’s also read about this? “Let me just—” he wiggles his hand beneath Kim, brushes his fingers against his hole, and—yep, he’s definitely slick with something.

“What the fuck,” Kim echoes, still staring at his fingers.

He suddenly remembers the florist telling him, Don’t forget plenty of water. He’s going to die, actually. They’ve been sex pollened. Pollinated? Yeah, that. And fuck, she knew, she had to know, that’swhy she smirked and laughed and told him to drink water, because she knew things were going to get wet and fucking messy.

God, Chay can’t even be mad about it because—because it’s Kim, and he is wet, and Chay desperately wants to make a mess of both of them.

Kim shouts when Chay throws him back onto the ground, pinning him on his back. He made sure to pull a blanket down first (Gentleman!!) so Kim wouldn’t be bare on the cold wood floor. Then he grabs Kim’s legs behind his knees and forces his thighs to his chest, he’s vaguely aware of Kim’s hands slapping the ground, but then he’s thoroughly distracted by burying his tongue in the nectar-sweet slick dripping from Kim’s hole.

“Chay!” Kim cries, equal parts indignant and hopelessly turned on. HIs thighs clamp down around Chay’s head and do absolutely nothing to deter him. In fact, Chay elects to ignore him entirely, digging his fingers into Kim’s thighs and licking into him with fervor.

Deliriously, he thinks, finally, all those smut fics are good for something. He’s never been more prepared for something in his life.

“You taste so sweet, P’Kim,” Chay says when he finally comes up for air, what could be minutes or hours later.

“You’re so fucking weird,” kim pants. His face is flushed, all the way down his chest, and his eyes are glassy. It’s the most beautiful CHay has ever seen him, and all Chay can think is, I did that.

Well, the flowers—the fucking sex pollen—did that, but Chay helped!

Chay shoves Kim’s legs open again, because they’re still crushing him a little bit, and crawls his way backup Kim’s body, where he greets him with a deep, wet kiss. Chay is covered in that sweet slick from nose to chin and Kim makes a face at it, mumbling, “Gross,” but does nothing to resist Chay’s kiss. Sucks on his glistening bottom lip, even, and his tongue, chasing the sweet taste of himself. It’s probably just because of the pollen clouding his judgment. Probably.

“I could eat you out for days, P’Kim,” Chay says, just to be sure, “So sweet for me.”

“Fuck.” That’s all Kim says. No agreement or refusal, absolutely not aligning himself with either side of that spectrum, and refusing to meet Chay’s eyes for fear he’ll see an answer there. That’s okay. Chay knows they’re definitely going to do it again, if only so Kim can have the chance to… properly decide for himself whether he likes it, or not, without the pollen making his brain fuzzy.

“Can I still fuck you, P’Kim?” Chay asks, sweet as anything. (Gentle. Man.)

“Finally, yes, please, if you’re done teasing me.”

“I’m not.” Not even close. Teasing Kim into a shuddering, pathetic mess is going to become one of the greatest achievements of Chay’s life, up there with Getting His Idol to Tutor Him, and Getting Into University. “I’ll make it good for you, though, promise.”

Really, it’s more of a threat. Chay makes himself comfortable in their little nest on the floor—he blindly reaches up and pulls a few pillows off the bed, one for him to sit on and another to shove under Kim’s hips, popping him up and putting him on display even more than he already is—and gets to work. Circles his thumb around Kim’s glistening rim, lightly at first, waiting until Kim’s breaths stop hitching and he takes a deep inhale, and then Chay dips the digit into him. Up to the first knuckle, nice and slow, and then deeper, until it’s all the way inside and the rest of his fingers lay flat against his cheek. Chay pulses it in and out a few times, nice and shallow, before he pulls all the way out and replaces it with his foreigner. A minute later he slides in the middle one, as well, and Kim keens sweetly for him.

#cookie writes #kimchay #copy-pasted directly from my google docs #no editing #i got rum drunk and wrote this garbage last night #i hope you all enjoy it lmfao #I'll work on editing it into something coherent later #for now enjoy the crack <3

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per-the-jellicle-magician · 18 days

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In his den Mefistofeliks has a little stash of things that remind him of his human and of cats he's close with. It started when he was still a kitten because of his human and there's only a few cats who know this stash of mementos even exists.

The inspiration for it was his human, Erik, who made a little baby album of a sort after he adopted Feliks, and over the years has been adding pictures and other things such as his paw prints etc. So wanting to do the same Feliks stole a few of the printed pictures and scraps of paper with Erik's handwriting (the closest thing he could find as his human's paw print) and stashed them in his den at the studio. Over the years said stash grew, he kept stealing a picture or a note here and there, and few pieces of Erik's clothing including one of his favourite pairs of socks. He also got there his latest collar that he wore only once to please Erik. He doesn't like wearing it, but he still very much likes to have it (he knows Erik saved the very first collar he got for Feliks, tiny kitten one that also was worn only once).

Besides his human's things he has lots of mementos of other cats. Most weren't exactly gifts but more of a "oh you can keep it if you want" type of thing, but Ram Ram Tamek and Kasandra, who both knew about it for years have both gifted him things and would sometimes tell other cats that hey this specific thing you dont want to anymore, Mefistofeliks may want it. Eventually two more cats would learn about it, both by accident, said cats being Bombalurina and Munkustrap.

From Tam he's got a little round mirror, a scrap of an old blanket they often used to share as kittens and a photo of the two of them Tam stole from Erik (Tam may tease him a bit for being sentimental, but he still helps with getting the things, and he saved the other piece of that blanket and another copy of that photo too).

From Kasandra he's got two of her bracelets, a broken silver one he saved from when they first got together, and she didn't know about the stash yet (he gifted her a different one then), and a golden bangle with little stones she gave him when they finally and for good sorted their relationship out and went from partners to being just friends.

From his daughter, Wiktoria, he's got a piece of cardboard with her paw prints on it and red and black marble from a little stash of them she found in some forgotten corner of the studio (she saved herself a matching white one).

From his parents, he's got one of Bywalec' ascots and an old broken pair of glasses, and from Plameczka a couple of her hair rollers, plus a few feathers from her feather duster (it took a time to get those things to save, he doesn't see his parents as often anymore)

From Misto a long piece of the glittery rainbow he used in his tricks, from when it accidentally ripped one day and a few playing cards from his favourite, although very much no longer complete deck (Feliks wasn't the only one to receive cards from his cousin, few went to Tugger and Victoria as well).

From Victoria a gem that fell off her collar and a pink ribbon bow she made once for him so the 3 of them could match as family (Misto saved the one she made for him too).

From Bomba he's got her hair clip sometime after they become friends. It was an old one, with a broken clip part (she let him have it after he helped her find a replacement).

From Demeter he's got a silver and gold handkerchief which was bit of an "I'm sorry" note after she accidentally messed up his arm (he wore it over the bandages when it was still healing)

From Munkustrap he's got feathers, saved from every catch Munk would share with him all the times Feliks would visit his cousins at the Junkyard. Munk saw the arrangement Feliks made of the feathers several times when visiting before he realised they were from birds caught by him. It took for a very specific feather to appear there for him to catch on (Munk has saved all the flowers Feliks has ever conjured up for him too, took him one catnip fuelled visit to his den to learn that). Later, one of scarves Munk had in his den, a brilliant blue one, made it's way over to Feliks' (Feliks may or may not have said it reminded him of Munk the most of all things Munk's got and that he liked how soft it was)

#I've been having thoughts so it's a long one #this idea was living rent free in my head #maybe one day i'll write out what he got from other cats #if and when i get any ideas of what those things may be #cats the musical #cats warsaw #cats headcanons #mefistofeliks #mistoffelees #ram tam tamek #rum tum tugger #Munkustrap #kasandra #cassandra cats #only tagging the more important ones form all the mentioned #my headcanons #jellicle cats #my main cats au

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harrietmjones · 7 months

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Thank you for the tag @lovepollution. 🥰

make a moodboard with…your fav celeb, your fav quote, a cute outfit, your fav drink, your fav color, your fav place, your fav hobby, your fav flowers, and your fav book

(Just wanted to say, that some of these change on the regular but for now, they’re all correct. Totally struggled with fave celeb ngl, so decided on two who make me laugh, together and separately!)

Tagging: @popsworth, @markwatneyandenesemble, @tamsinbeybey-she-no-porcupine, @escapismqueen, @eliotqueliot, @wonderlandleighleigh, @theycallme-thejackal, @lesliesknopes, @asofterhibou and @bekindreblog and whoever wants a go. ☺️

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tending-the-hearth · 1 year

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white-cat-of-doom · 18 days

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Odd question, but do you think the cats wear clothes?

Apologies for the delay, Anon!

This is not a weird question at all! Throughout the show we see many Cats wearing song costumes or changing between their chorus character and song character designs and some of them can definitely be assumed to be wearing clothing, even if never explicitly stated. This is, of course, not mentioning collars as I do not consider that clothing.

As with basically everything in the show, it is up for interpretation whether the Cats wear clothes as we see them in the show, or would wear clothing at any point outside of the context of the musical. Depending on how fantastical you want to be also plays a role in this thought. If you want them to be more like an actual cats, it becomes a very narrow field of characters, but adding more of the magic of the Jellicle world can increase that number.

For me at least, I think only a small portion of the characters actually wear clothing at any point. Most of the context in the musical related to clothing seems more to accentuate the theme of the song or appearance of a character more than the fact that they are dressed a certain way. You can see this most prominently in how the Cats dress up as Pollicles or Beetles, where the costumes are more thrown together and silly than actual articles of clothing.

From a canon standpoint, Skimbleshanks is the only Cat that I think routinely wears clothing, more specifically a fun train conductor uniform that was made for him as an 'employee' of the Midnight Mail. This is further shown in his 2019 design, where he is always shown wearing clothes.

From here, it becomes a bit more unclear of who might be wearing clothing, but I will focus one those who change costumes during the show.

We see Jennyanydots go through two costume changes in her song, but I do not think she wears clothing often, more donning the Gumbie Cat and Tap costumes for special occasions, if viewed from a Jellicle standpoint. From an actual cat standpoint, she has never actually worn any costume and those song costumes are only meant as fun additions to how she is viewed as a lazy cat during the day, but then zooms around the house at night.

Gus has the appearance of wearing clothing to an extent, but I view it more as an older cat wrapped in a nice blanket that he has owned for many years and is embedded with his familiar scent, and which acts as a point of comfort as he begins to be effected by a decline in physical and cognitive health. This works in either a realistic or fantasy point of view.

For Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, I do not think they actually wear clothing, outside of the pearls that Rumpleteazer has and wears infrequently, either given to her by her owners or obtained another way. Their respective song costumes are strictly to poke fun at the fact they look very similar, and, like Jennyanydots, only for a few minutes of fun in the Jellicle world.

I do not think Rum Tum Tugger actually wears a belt or has bandanas, and that this is meant more as a design choice to show him off as a 'rockstar'. In a Jellicle view, he would be more inclined to dress like that all the time, as opposed to those mentioned above who only wear things on occasion.

Bustopher Jones is a chubby tuxedo cat, and does not wear any clothing as a normal cat. Even in the Jellicle world, I do not think he actually wears a special suit with spats, and it is only his rich coat that is emphasized in context of the costume. Saying that, he does have a monocle because he is a fancy cat with some poor eyesight.

Mistoffelees is a normal black cat in my opinion that is just cheeky. He does not really light up or sparkle extraordinarily as a normal, and even in a Jellicle setting I do not think he would have a separate jacket like they show. He can do the above more as an illusion rather than magic to alter his appearance. (Depending on your interpretation, he may be able to shape shift, and it is implied that he is magical in some way, but that requires more explanation than here).

Grizabella is tricky in the sense that she is very obviously dressed up in a form of clothing, but I do not think she actually wears anything, again coming down to it more showing her as a past Glamour Cat in a design context rather than her in costume. The revised design make this point harder to separate, but viewing the older design, or what is currently used in Japan, and you can understand more what I am getting at. She is/was a glamorous cat that in my view was a show winner, being well groomed and taken care of until something happened and (depending on what you think) she was abandoned/left the Tribe/was exiled or whatever reason for her to fall into disarray. The tattered clothing in her design is meant to empathize that transition into despondency from fame rather than her actually wearing a dress.

I view Growltiger and Griddlebone as a seperate characters who look like their costumes, so Gus or Jellylorum dressing up is not actually meant to be themselves in costume from a certain standpoint, but they are portraying the two is the context of the musical, as a homage to past theatrical performances. Outside of that (perhaps confusing) circumstance, I already mentioned Gus above and Jellylorum would not wear anything.

For everyone else, I cannot see them wearing clothing at really any time other than maybe a one time thing for fun, but not as actual cats.

I view everyone more as actual cats that gather together and see themselves in these more grandiose situations as seen in the musical itself, rather than say having special cat sized clothing that they can or will wear.

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uppastthejelliclemoon · 9 months

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“It was an irreplaceable love”

A little sequel/continuation to my “dyin’ ain’t so bad” fic i wrote back for tuggoffelees week, this time featuring more angst thanks to @soh-da-meatball who broke my heart with her latest tuggoffelees art <3

Obviously this takes inspiration from “saturation” (the song that soh used) but while i was writing i also couldn’t stop thinking about “something to hold onto” from the “between the lines” musical and long story short i’m crying over this

Warnings: mentions of major character death, descriptions of violence (basically what had happened to tugger), unhealthy coping mechanisms (mistoffelees isolating/punishing himself), overall a lot of grief

Mistoffelees stayed in his den for weeks after Tugger’s death.

He spoke to no one, not even his sister.

The only reason he ate was because he knew how much Tugger would hate seeing him waste away, but even then, he only ate the bare minimum to keep himself alive.

Munkustrap, Victoria, and Old Deuteronomy were the only cats who came into Mistoffelees’ den, after every other cat had found themselves unable to enter due to the magic surrounding it.

Munkustrap would sit in the silence with Mistoffelees, a strong, calm presence. He was the only cat who truly understood Mistoffelees’ grief, seeing as he had been there as well when Tugger died.

Victoria held her brother during her visits, wrapping her arms around him and protecting him from the world.

Old Deuteronomy was the only cat Mistoffelees would cry in front of, clinging to the old tom as violent sobs ripped through his body. Deuteronomy cried with him, cradling the younger cat gently, whispering gentle reassurances that Tugger’s death wasn’t his fault, that he had done everything he could.

Mistoffelees wasn’t so sure about that.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Tugger’s bloody, broken body in front of him, fur mangled and matted.

He saw Old Deuteronomy collapsing to the ground when he saw Tugger’s body.

He saw Munkustrap falling into Demeter’s arms, the golden queen clinging to her mate with tears streaming down her face.

Every time he sat in the silence, he heard Bombalurina’s screams when she saw Mistoffelees and Munkustrap enter the Junkyard with Tugger’s body on their backs.

He heard Plato’s choked sobs at the sight of his brother in all but blood, lifeless and limp.

He heard Jemima’s terrified questions about what was wrong with her beloved uncle.

Despite Deuteronomy’s reassurances, and Tugger’s insistent final words, Mistoffelees blamed himself. He should have been faster, his magic should have healed Tugger.

His isolation was his punishment, his misery his penance for his mistakes.

So he remained in his den, curled on his bed, Tugger’s favorite blanket clutched in his arms as he breathed in the scent of his mate. Occasionally he would move around, a quick cleaning, a tidy-up of the bed, but that was only if one of the three cats he still saw came to visit.

He didn’t deserve for the den to be pristine.

Mistoffelees did manage to leave his den one night.

Like the other magical cats, Mistoffelees’ powers took strength from the moon, and the full moon shining above him in the sky made it feel as though his magic was about to burst out of him.

He sat in the center of the hidden clearing, the spot where he and Tugger had shared a private dance after their mating, and stared down at his paws. He hadn’t used his magic since the day Tugger died, and when he wiggled his fingers briefly, the rainbow sparkles he had once loved so dearly shot out, the pent-up emotions and magic exploding out of Mistoffelees in a wave of grief and pain.

He spread his arms out, magic flaring around him. The only reason the magic did not spread to the rest of the Junkyard was thanks to the barrier Mistoffelees had constructed around the clearing so long ago, when it had served as a secret place for him to practice.

Mistoffelees waved his arms and spun around, kicking out and lashing his tail until he stopped, hunched over with paws on his knees, heaving great, deep breaths, exhaustion settling into his bones.

“Magical.”

The awed whisper had the tom freezing. The voice was one Mistoffelees would recognize even in a sea of screams and cheers. It was the voice that had spent countless hours reassuring him, whispering sweet nothings as they curled together, giggling over thoughts of a future they would never have.

Slowly, Mistoffelees turned around, and he felt everything around him grow silent.

Perched on the old chair, as though nothing had ever changed and Mistoffelees was simply practicing parlor tricks, was Tugger.

Clean fur, not a trace of blood or injuries in sight, and amber eyes glittering with only love and adoration.

Mistoffelees could think of nothing else do to but collapse on the ground, sobbing. His only thought was that he had finally cracked, his weeks of isolation and punishment had caused him to hallucinate. It made sense, he supposed. His greatest punishment would be to see the ghost of the mate he failed to save everywhere around him.

“Sparkles?” Tugger’s voice was now filled with worry, and much closer than before. Mistoffelees buried his face in his paws, shaking his head. He couldn’t bear to look up and see the vision his grief-riddled mind had conjured for him. Firm, warm paws grasped his wrists, and slowly pulled his paws away, but Mistoffelees kept his eyes shut. Those same paws then cupped his face, thumbs stroking the fur beneath his eyes gently, wiping away the tears. “Come on, gorgeous, let me see those beautiful eyes.”

Mistoffelees could never resist it when Tugger spoke to him like that.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, meeting Tugger’s loving gaze. A soft, warm smile spread over the maine coon’s face, and Mistoffelees couldn’t resist throwing himself forward, wrapping his arms around Tugger’s neck with a broken cry.

Tugger’s arms wound around Mistoffelees’ waist, strong and sure, and the two cats clung to each other, faces buried in the other’s fur.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” The magical tom gasped out.

Tugger pulled away, a small frown on his face as he looked at his mate. “Sorry for what, Mist?” Mistoffelees’ face dropped, but Tugger placed his paw beneath his chin, gently tilting his face back up towards him. “Mistoffelees, listen to me. What happened to me was not your fault. I would never, ever blame you for what happened. All that blame? That’s on Macavity. He’s the one who killed me.” He leaned forward, resting his forehead against Mistoffelees’ with a deep sigh. “You and Straps brought me home, Misto. You came after me, and I was able to say goodbye to you.”

Mistoffelees shook his head. “I should have done more, Tugs.”

“You couldn’t have done more, Misto.” Tugger replied firmly. “It was my time, and as horrible as it was, you couldn’t do anything to change it.” Mistoffelees let out another sob, and Tugger pulled him back into his arms, hugging him fiercely.

Mistoffelees wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, the two cats clinging to each other. By the time they pulled apart, he had cried out all his tears, and Tugger was back to smiling, pressing soft kisses all over the magical cat’s face.

Now that he was no longer crying, Mistoffelees could see the soft glow around his mate wasn’t simply due to his own watery eyes.

“This isn’t a hallucination, is it?” He asked softly.

Tugger chuckled, standing and pulling Mistoffelees up with him. “Not at all, my marvelous, magical magician. You did this.”

Mistoffelees’ brow furrowed. “Me?”

“I’m not sure exactly, but all that magic you let out, combined with your grief and love, it brought me here for just a little while.” Tugger said gently. He looked up at the moon above them. “It’s a full moon, as well. Like during the Ball.”

Of course.

Full moons, whether it was the night of the Ball or not, were when the Jellicle magic was strongest, and the veil between the Heaviside Layer and the living world was lifted, allowing moments of peace between deceased cats and their families.

Mistoffelees let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, tilting forward to rest his head against Tugger’s shoulder as he sent an unspoken whisper of thanks to the Everlasting Cat for granting him a final moment with his mate.

“I’m going to sing at the next Ball.” He admitted quietly.

Tugger’s arm wrapped around his shoulder, tight and comforting. “I had a feeling you would.” He leaned over, nuzzling the top of Mistoffelees head lovingly. He then stepped back, away from Mistoffelees, and held out a paw with a bright smile. “One last dance?”

Mistoffelees felt bittersweet tears fill his eyes. Their last dance in their clearing, the spot where their relationship had started. He took a steadying breath, and waved his paws.

Soft music filled the clearing, just like it did on the night so long ago, when they had snuck away as new mates, giggling and holding paws. Now, he reached out, tangling his fingers with the ghost of his mate’s, and Tugger gave him a sad little smile, pulling him closer.

The maine coon slipped an arm around his waist, and pressed a kiss to the spot just below Mistoffelees’ ear, where he knew the magical cat was ticklish. Mistoffelees laughed, something he had not done in ages, and his grip on Tugger’s paw tightened. He felt Tugger smile, and he felt himself pulled into a slow, gentle dance, Tugger never letting go of his paw.

Mistoffelees’ smile faded into something quieter, something more secretive, and he burrowed into Tugger’s mane, breathing deeply.

As Tugger’s arms tightened around him, their dancing turning into more of a gentle sway, Mistoffelees found himself with a single thought.

“What a precious love it’s been.”

#cats the musical #rum tum tugger #mr mistoffelees #tuggoffelees #liv’s writing corner #now if y’all excuse me I’m going to go sob #actual tears in my eyes as I’m writing this #munkustrap #victoria #old deuteronomy

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