Jigglypuff1994

Hi! My name is Jiggypuff or Jiggly. <(^_^)>

I'm an INFJ, heavy on the I. And yes, I am a pocket monster, not a human, in case you're wondering.

I'm mostly a writer. Primary hyper-fixation is on Miraculous Ladybug.

AO3 Fics

Fic List

Teen Rated Fics

Dear Ladybug, Love Adrien: Adrinette, Ladrien, Fluff, Love letters, No-Power AU, Completed - on Keyseeker's 2025 Rec List

No one can frown when you have a flower crown: MisterNoire, Fluff, Identity Reveal, Oneshot

Like a bridge over troubled water: MerMay, Ladrien, WIP - Ongoing

The Devil Wears Gabriel: Marinette POV, Marinette is Gabriel's assistant, Lukanette (mostly), Endgame Adrienette, Completed

Mature Rated Fics

Until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow: Marichat, Adrinette, Christmas, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Oneshot

past grievances: Felix POV, Canon until season 4, murder mystery, WIP - On hiatus

Explicit Fics

Bitten Smitten Kitten: Marichat, Vampire AU, Dual POV, Smut, Blood drinking, kidnapping, Completed

so you're telling me there's a chance?: MisterNoire, FWB, Reverse Crush, Porn with Plot, WIP - ongoing

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You can find a ton of fan art I've commissioned by searching #commissioned art on my blog, or visiting my instagram

Occasionally, I dibble-dabble in art. You can find my side art blog here if you want to shrek it out.

The stairway door was propped open at the end of the hall. 

Paw on the door. Mid-step. “What’s with the full name, Mister Bug?” Her eyes were twinkling. All mirth. Quickly smothered by—surely—the panic-stricken expression he was sporting. “Whoa, you look like you have the flu. Are you suddenly allergic to bananas? Are you going to hurl? Because . . . if you are, could you avoid the s—” 

“What? No! I’m not gonna be sick.” He propped his arm across the doorway, halting her, as if that could stop the woman who could throw a car without breaking a sweat. “Where are you heading off to?” 

“What?” 

“We have an interview.” He gestured between the two of them. “Right now.” 

“I’m well aware.” 

“So . . .” He did a go-on motion. 

“So, I gotta go.”

“Not until you explain.” 

He wanted more than some vague excuse, which was unfair, considering the thousands of lame excuses he’d come up with in his lifetime. But this was different. This was them. They didn't lie to each other. However, the defensive flash of her eyes made him think twice. Maybe they did. 

“I have a work event I can’t miss.” 

“. . . at ten in the morning? Who has a—never mind.” He shuffled in place. “To me, it looks like you can.” 

Her head jerked back from his irritated tone. Maybe he should dial it back just a smidge. Be less dick-ish. 

“I came because it was an akuma. Do you want me to start avoiding those? I can if that’s what you want.” 

Calmer. Gentler. “No. That’s not what I want.” Much better. 

Squeezing his body into the dim hallway light, his frame towered over her, casting half of her face in shadow. 

“I just—” 

His hand reached for hers, but she pulled away and hid it behind her back. He couldn’t help but notice the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed. Why did she do that? He wasn’t trying to do anything other than hold her. Well, not hold her, but he just . . . He wanted to . . . Kwamis, what did he want? 

“It’ll only take another ten to fifteen minutes,” he promised. Tucking his hand to the side, his arm brushed along his hip like a lifeless punching bag waiting for the next strike. This wasn’t his finest hour. 

“Stay and finish the interview. You know . . . like old times.” 

All of the defensiveness dropped in her shoulders. His, too. A gentle pat on his arm turned into a gentle, reassuring squeeze that meant more to him than some half-assed attempt to hold her hand. 

“I would if I could, Spots. You know I would be right by your side on that couch.” 

A twitch of her lips had him preparing for a but. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. 

“But.” There it was. Her bottom lip snagged between her teeth, and the urge to unsnag it brought life back into his useless limbs. “—while I’m not there, I know somebody who will keep you company, and if I seem to recall, a certain hero had a bit of an unrelenting crush on Paris’s Baker Girl back in the day, hmm?” 

His hand swiped over his face. Admitting to his lady that he’d marry his actual celebrity crush years ago during a round of Kiss, Marry, Kill was a daft move on his part. 

Despite his gaze flicking up toward the dusty ceiling, he found her familiar jabs were nice. Welcomed, actually. 

“You’ll never let me forget that, will you?” 

“Never.”  Continue reading at the link below!