Jul 23, 2025
Should’ve spent more time on this tbh
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Italy
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Taiwan
seen from Chile
seen from Canada
seen from Singapore
seen from South Korea
seen from Morocco
seen from Morocco
seen from Italy
seen from France
seen from United States
Should’ve spent more time on this tbh
Me n bro
If Joe & Miss Acacia were happily married (JATCCH AU)
I truly believe that it'd start with Miss Acacia feeling pressured into marriage, then finding out more about Joe, which eventually draws her in.
To put it in perspective-
Miss Acacia felt pressured because of her distant family, believing that Jack's no longer being a love interest was a sign that she would die alone.
Joe had a feeling that she wasn't in love with him, but he immediately assumed that it meant she hated him and wanted him dead, which triggered his splitting. Because of this, he would often spend time in his office to avoid being seen as violent by the people in Andalusia.
At this point, a lot of his poems were about suppressing violence stemming from jealousy & empty yearning.
Miss Acacia started growing an interest in Joe's art, especially the ones that aren't explicitly about her.
Miss Acacia's showing interest causes Joe to settle down.
Miss Acacia said, "I love you" for the first time.
Joe doesn't know how to react to his love being reciprocated.
They start doing the usual "first date" things, getting each other gifts, and constantly affirming each other. Joe's splitting still occurs, but it has calmed. Joe's poems started becoming more romantic and positive, which attracted more readers.
Joe and Miss Acacia finally kiss for the first time
The intensity of Joe's poems grows.
Joe's motivation for art is revived.
Miss Acacia pursues acting.
They build intimacy by being each other's muse.
They plan to go to Italy for their honeymoon.
When Jack comes back at a later time.
Miss Acacia doesn't flirt with Jack; she's just friendly. When Jack reveals himself, she tries to reframe their reunion as platonic. When he pushes, she shuts him down.
Jack tries to confront Joe, which brings back Joe's former doubts.
Miss Acacia shoos Jack away and tries to reassure Joe, which takes a few days, but the internal conflict takes several months for Joe to solve.
I’ll draw it later (i won’t) (I ran out of pages in my sketchbook)
HIS PRONOUNS ARE SHE/HER (I actually hc them as he/she)
Read me asleep
(This is an old-ish fanfic I posted on ao3... it was meant to be a oneshot but honestly....)
Standing before her was an experience that brought Joe’s heart to a standstill. Her lack of attention and cutting him off? She hated him. She had to. Miss Acacia would never have done this to him five years ago. What changed? What happened between the time frame of receiving her letter and that 20-hour train ride?
Maybe he was nothing more than a stick in the mud. He’s an ugly accessory. Insignificant and replaceable. All those families he switched between, there had to be a reason. It’s because of him. Not the deaths, not the debt, and now, he’d lose the chance of a new family. He’d have to jump between women, but how could he forget his Acacia?
Miss Acacia looked up at him, observing the micromovements across his face. Despite not having seen him for half a decade, she could tell something was bothering him. Miss Acacia paused to think about her next actions, as he didn’t seem irate.
Miss Acacia pinched the corner of Joe’s jabot, pulling him in by a millimetre. His back was slightly bent as he met her eyes. Miss Acacia took a moment to observe him. The small lines formed around his mouth, the folds under his exposed eye, and his straight nose plunged below his nostrils. His skin had a natural, golden glow, a savoury contrast from his cool, pale skin. She inhaled.
“I love you,” she stated. Joe’s eyelids lifted, and a small gasp. His heart crocheted itself.
“What?” He questioned, stupefied. Miss Acacia swallowed while dragging her hands down his torso.
“I… Every time you sent those letters,” She exhaled her words. “All I could think of was how you would say those. I would hear your voice as I read them to myself. When I translated those words in my head, I imagined your voice speaking to me.” Joe didn’t know what to say. He was convinced she wanted him dead, though he continued to pump himself with empty hope. His feelings being reciprocated were stressful, but this… this is part of his journey to her heart. To feel relief is to feel pain first.
“And now that you’re here,” she whispered. “Every time you talk, every time you tell me about your surroundings and your thoughts, I think about how you would’ve written them down for me to read. I imagine that you’re reading your likeness to me. I would hear your voice as I read those letters, every week, it was a new bedtime story—a new song to waltz with your ghost to.”
Joe stared into her eyes, her focused gaze drilling into his mind. He could feel her breath on his face, small and shaky. Her eyes shifted, up, and down, and up again.
“Your voice has changed, and now my idea of you has shifted. I want to hear those letters in your accurate voice,” she muttered. “Would you read them to me?”Joe stared at her, and his hands twitched a few times before moving his hands to her back.
“Yes, yes, of course,” he finally whispered back. Miss Acacia furrowed her brows and gently smiled.“Then do it. Tell me what you would’ve said if we weren’t together,” She said.
“I don’t think I would survive,” He chuckled, and Miss Acacia held him a bit tighter.“Be serious, Joe,” She urged. He was still in shock from her confession, so he just smiled and pulled her in.
“I love you,” she whispered. Joe felt like crying and laughing. To be loved by his yearnee.
“I would have written… about how much I miss you,” Joe started. Miss Acacia shook her head and pressed a finger against his lips.
“No, tell me in the same way you’d write it,” Miss Acacia commanded. Joe paused and thought for a second, the room filled with warmth.
“Dear Miss Acacia,” He said in a whispery tone. “I hate to dwell on our time apart, but to believe that it’s been half a decade is overwhelming. On the day of my twelfth year alive, I had thoughts that thrived in the back of my mind, telling me to cherish every letter you wrote, because one day, they would stop coming in. The fact that we’re still in contact is something special.”
Miss Acacia sighed into his chest, her head lined up with his buttons. His voice became huskier as his voice went low. He sharply inhaled when all of his prior thoughts rushed to the front of his head.
“When I open your letters, I can smell your perfume. Those sweet, floral fumes infect my mind. When your birthday comes around, and I go to the creek to collect mica rocks, you can smell the creek where we used to talk and sing. When I crushed the rocks to dust for my pigment, I thought of your hands, which would be covered in the same powder I coated your gift wrapping in.”
Miss Acacia’s head sank into his chest, causing him to step back. He paused, expecting her to say something, until he realised she was waiting for him to continue.
“When I write for school, every line of ink I lay on the paper is produced with you in mind. When I eat, I imagine you enjoy the food I dread.” Miss Acacia looked up and frowned. Joe tapped her nose in response. She shook her head and hugged him closer.
He felt her hair crinkling on his coat, her chest moving with her breath, her head shifting to free her nose for fresh air. His right hand shifted to her neck, digging his index finger in her hair.
It didn't matter anymore; Joe was humiliating himself to be vulnerable. No wonder he never opened up to anyone else.
He hummed and held her tighter, “Love, Joseph.”
They stared for a while until Miss Acacia sighed, sticking her chin to his chest. The sound in the room was nothing more than their breathing.
"Miss Acacia... I want to stay here forever..." He muttered, fluttering his eyelashes. His eyebags were less visible in the dim light, but his dark circles signed his face, a dark, cool ink.
"Joe..." She whispered.
He slowly closed his eyes, craving the entirety of her domesticity. She stuck her head on his collarbones, his jabot against her forehead. Her cheekbones pressed against one of his silver buttons. Joe was too tall for his chin to rest against her head, but he was close enough to smell the roses and argan oil in her hair. The top of her head tapped his jaw when she moved forward. His fingers were under her left dress strap, hers reaching to tug on his collar.
Jack slammed open the door, startling the two.
Which JATCCH fic should I finish first ^_^
- Week two Jocacia (yes I still prefer one-sided but i need fluff every now and then)
- Joe & Miss Acacia just hanging out
Lesbian Joe propaganda