#tuggoff

[halfling-myth-lady]

First person:can try to write it like a journal,maybe even add a few notes from the other characters.

Third person:just a generally what I’m used to.

[pied-pipers-assistant]

instead of finishing art i’m making shit posts 😴

i think i’m funny 💀

[millenari]

May 2002 West End performance. yes that is John Partridge.

This footage is worse than bad but this moment was cute. After Tugger and Misto walk to the end of the stage, Misto lifts his hand for a highfive. Tugger refuses at first.

(probably because Misto zapped his tail earlier. there's a moment in 98 where Misto nearly zaps Tugger and Tugger sniffs him out similarly:

so I wouldn't be surprised if that were a thing in this performance too and I missed it because *gestures at footage*)

Misto switches from a highfive to one finger, and Tugger reaches out to tap their fingers together: cue the most inexplicable cut to the psychic twins I have ever seen (??) but you can see Misto run back to the tire in the background after a second.

Whatever happened there, when the camera cuts back to Tugger, he's staring at his hands, both surprised and happy, and the audience laughs. I can only assume that Misto didn't -for once- zap him and he's very pleased about it!

[uppastthejelliclemoon]

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.”

[naturepointstheway]

Posting my little Munkoffelees fic that I did (and edited before putting on AO3) for @rainbowratsstuff.

For all that I'd loved doing it, alas, it looks like by the seems of things though I missed the ship's heyday (and mainly 2019 film inspired, which makes sense) by like five years (although it still had a good surge in 2020, and was entering its decline through 2021 with zero in 2022), and then there's mine hanging out all alone in 2024, wondering where the party went, but still happy that it exists (because I did enjoy writing it!)

Anyway, maybe posting up the link here on Tumblr will also help it gain more eyeballs as well.

[boydykedevo]

Tuggoff exes is so fucking powerful… pining Tugger but Misto doesn’t secretly like him back, he’s ambivalent at best. A+

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

The closer the moon, the stronger the magic. That simple phrase was something his fellows had often whispered in his ears as far back as the first Becoming. And there was truth to it, Mistoffelees supposed. He never felt as at peace with himself in this body as he did while bathed in the full bellied moonlight on the slated roofs of the city. There was a brief sense of satisfactory quiet that would come alongside its light that he looked forward to, as though - for a brief moment - he weren't failing in every aspect of the word. The quiet was a salve, of sorts; a chance to regroup and perhaps even attempt his rest.

"I had a feeling I'd find you up here."

Or at least it had been a chance.

"You really must stop sneaking up on me, Rum Tum Tugger," Mistoffelees deadpans, feeling a twisted sort of satisfaction at the annoyance he feels radiating from the other at the use of his full title. "Lest you wish to be sautéed."

"Ha ha, that's so funny," the other tom mutters in return, slinking forward to sit just within Mistoffelees' personal bubble of space, seemingly ignoring the way he was being watched. Mistoffelees observes that, despite his boldness and constant envelope pushing, even Tugger knew to draw a line somewhere. "I only serve well stuffed and basted, you know."

Seems, however, he was still learning where that appropriate somewhere was. 

The Maine Coon sighs as his "joke" (that's what he calls them: jokes, even when they are not amusing or proper) falls flat on its face - not even a cracked smile. He resigns to pulling at the chains that decorate his collar, but he keeps staring at the other tom, as though trying to puzzle out the misaligned tilt of his melting features. "And, please, stop calling me Rum Tum Tugger."

"Why?" Mistoffelees asks, feigning innocence, of all things. It feels strange, fizzing under the roof of his mouth, as if it knew it didn't belong anywhere near his tongue. "It is your name, is it not?"

"No," Tugger counters, too quickly it seems, as he immediately scrambles to correct himself. Mistoffelees takes careful note of this. "I mean yes it is, but it's for, like, when I'm in trouble, or being superficially adored, not…"

Mistoffelees also notes how he trails off, but more specifically where he trails off. Much to his nature, however, he cares very little to pursue the issue. For now, at least. 

"Anyway, Mr. Mistoffelees," he continues, nonplussed, flopping to his belly. "Why are you here?"

Mistoffelees rolls his eyes, the whites slightly too prominent in the glow of the moon. "In the end, why are any of us here?"

Tugger's nose wrinkles. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Do I know it?" This liberal misplaced innocence in his damned mouth is beginning to numb the skin of his teeth, but he must admit it was amusing to counter his annoyance. He deserves it - a treat, if he may be so bold, for being stuck in this place.

Tugger does not continue his childish retort, as expected. Instead, he continues his critical deconstruction of the side of Mistoffelees' paper thin skull. "You remind me of my dad."

Mistoffelees feels himself frowning before he can stop it. Not so much offended as he is…confused at the change in direction. "How so?"

"You both speak in riddles so you can avoid actually talking about things." He says this plainly, as though the observation was obvious. Mistoffelees suddenly feels…uneasy.

"I see."

Tugger grins, full and even, free of any previous irritation. That was one thing about The Rum Tum Tugger: he did not dwell on anything too long. A flaw or an admirable trait, Mistoffelees was still figuring. "Trying to get me to learn my own lessons, are you?"

"The beast who is burned does not approach the flame twice," Mistoffelees recites, feeling the empty words rattle in their cliché. "Would you not prefer to come to your own conclusions independently rather than rely on another's distorted perspective?"

"It's just nice to get a straight answer every once in a while, isn't it?"

And that was another thing about The Rum Tum Tugger - he composed symphonies from singular notes; gave infinite information with one sentence. Managed to nail the simplest of points down with such precision, he might have made a decent archer in a past life.

Mistoffelees ponders this. Teach the beast and he will flee. Feed the beast and he will come back. 

It slices a touch too close to the bone for his tastes.

"So," Tugger tries again, cutting through his thoughts. "What's going on with you?"

Mistoffelees turns fully to the other tom, peering at him from the depths below. "What are you doing, Tugger?"

"I'm trying," Tugger says, deliberately dragging his words, looking at him directly in the eye…unafraid. "To get you to open up."

"For what purpose?"

Tugger falters slightly at the question, but he plunders on. He is unused to being questioned; little prince. "Because I want to get to know you better."

"I think," Mistoffelees counters coolly, feeling a spark beginning at the base of his neck. "You are trying to satiate a curiosity."

"Maybe." Tugger shrugs. "But I think you want to be known, don't you?"

Mistoffelees' spine stiffens suddenly, the spark becoming a full, indignant crackle. "That is a very bold assumption to make."

"Is it?" He counters, drawing to his full height, full of the devil, staring down at him. Tugger smiles impishly at the ear twitch Mistoffelees cannot quite suppress. "I can play this game too, sparkles."

The two toms stay in their lock of wills, laced tight by a single, unflinching thread, and there is a sudden…weight in the air that hadn't been present before.  Tugger looks…determined and expectant. Predatory, almost, in his size and the glint in his eye. Every instinct in his borrowed body tells him to look away, break the bond, reshift the balance, but his mind betrays him. Something else betrays him. 

The quiet comes back, but it is no longer restful as it was before.

"What if," Mistoffelees manages at last, voice oddly strained, as though he were pulling it up from a well. "When you manage to…'open me up', you do not like what you see?"

The other tom's adamant face freezes just a moment, too quick to be noticed by any regular cat, but Mistoffelees sees it, lingers on it as the genuineness of emotion bleeds into the easier, softer expression that replaces it. Surprise, wariness even. But still, no fear - not a single trace of it. If only you knew. "Then I'd say you have the right to sauté me, then."

There is a foreign pressure deep within the cavern of his body at the answer. He does not recognize it; he has not felt this in centuries - millennia, possibly.  "I do not believe you understand what you are asking for."

"Listen." Tugger licks his lip, rocking back on his haunches so he shrinks again, non-threatening, and the thread snaps. Mistoffelees lowers his tail cautiously. 

"I know you think I'm…I don't know, irresponsible with myself - everyone else thinks so," Tugger says evenly, carefully avoiding what he thinks of the admission. "And you'd be right, but I promise you, I'm a big tom, I can handle myself. If I asked it's because I want to know - how bad could it be?"

Bad, bad, very bad. You will never look at me the same.

And there it was - that relentless sincerity, glittering in his dark eyes again. 

Why do I care? What am I doing? a tiny voice wails in his ear. What am I doing?

"Very well," his traitor's tongue betrays its own master. "What would you know of me?"

For the first time in their conversation, Tugger casts his gaze downward, looking, a moment, almost shy; overwhelmed by the offer. It would be charming, he thinks, if it did not feel so…horrid in his chest cavity. He would file that away for future consideration. "I don't know…honestly, I didn't think I'd get this far."

Mistoffelees hmphs, the unrelenting heat and heaviness of the moment cooling enough that he was able to regain a semblance of his bearings about him. Typical Tugger. 

"Maybe…” Tugger scrunches up his muzzle in thought. “Where were you born?"

Mistoffelees looks away at last, and it seems like an eternity passes until he speaks again, sitting under the steadily fading moon. He prays, as close as he could get, that the other would not live to regret this. That he would not live to regret this.

"Perhaps," he begins softly, nearly - Tugger's betraying mind whispers - with affection. "You may want to start with something simpler."

"Like?"

"Where were you when the world began?"

[jelliclekay]

I wanna host a Bombatuggoffelees week

[strawberry-jellicle]

Me talking about tugger x tumble x misto is like me talking to a brick fucking wall

[just-before-dawn]

me: *watches wicked today*

me: alright, time to pull up the fic (wicked through and through by palpaback on ao3)

[margo-mania]

1am Soulmate/Soulmark Tuggoff wip i keep forgetting to post

[commander-spaceboy]

for @none-ofthisnonsense for the cats secret santa!

I had so much fun making this,,, its been a while since ive drawn tuggoff content n i kinda missed them

(TYSM @bees-in-a-davidbowie-shirt for putting together this event!!)

[millenari]

funniest thing abt twcd guy is that 97% of his takes are absolutely rancid, but he's also such a tuggoffelees warrior & im required to respect the hell out of that

[uppastthejelliclemoon]

rewatching 1998 right now and i'm going to be violent about how absolutely fucking GONE jp's tugger is for brentoffelees, like during misto's song tugger is just the absolute epitome of heart eyes, no one else exists besides his magician, and misto constantly glancing back at tugger for those little reassurances because he knows tugger absolutely will hype him up the second he needs him

[naturepointstheway]

So Vienna 1989/1990 gave us some nice Tuggoff juice, but did you know it also gives some nice Munkoffelees juice as well? Look at that gentle dance between them, the way Munk just gently touches his back at the end as he leads him to the tyre. 🥹🥹

For comparison, this is how he sent off Tugger earlier--just YEET that cat!

In all seriousness I love how this shows the different dynamics between them: Misto with Tugger is more playful and cheeky, contrasting with his more stately, gentle dance with Munk and I'm here for it.

@rainbowratsstuff

[real-reulbbr-band]

One day I will have the confidence to make a tuggoff fic