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sebaztianlovesgeek · 1 year ago

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A really dumb thought that's been plaguing my mind all day

So despite me being a guy I grew up with my little pony (generation 4) and I actually still have a lot of love for the show, I wouldn't say I'm a downright brony but I enjoy rewatching the episodes (and I also hate the new generation 5 and I wish Equestria girls got an ending)

If you've seen my profile you know I'm also a fan of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. My favourite part being Stardust Crusaders.

Now in the MLP fandom, there were a lot of very violent and gorey fan content made about it, fanfiction, fanart, fan animations, etc. I fortunately didn't see anything too violent as a kid but I do remember seeing a lot of f*tish stuff.

Anyways so there was this particular MLP fan animation called 'Smile HD' that many MLP g4 fans saw as kids (thankfully I didn't) and I watched it for the first time a few days ago. It's basically about Pinkie Pie massacring the main 6 and then blowing up the universe, it's very graphic and has a lot of blood but since it was cartoony I honestly wasn't really phased by it.

And this wasn't the first fan animation/story where Pinkie Pie went absolutely insane, there were many before that, such as cupcakes HD (made by the same person who made Smile HD I think) where she kidnaps Rainbow Dash, cuts her open and then makes her organs into cupcakes.

Now me and my friends who are JoJo fans have this inside joke that Kakyoin is very... Psychotic. As you can tell Pinkie Pie was also the "psychotic" inside joke in the MLP fandom.

Then I was thinking... Wait a minute... What if Smile HD happened in the JoJo's universe but instead of it being Pinkie Pie it was Kakyoin?

I have a very dark sense of humour, so the thought of Kakyoin killing the other crusaders and then blowing up the whole world was kind of funny.

So Kakyoin would be Pinkie Pie, Avdol would be Apple Jack (because they both die in similar ways), Polnareff would be Rainbow Dash because why not, Joseph would be Rarity, Fluttershy would be Jotaro because near the end where Fluttershy tries to fight back reminded me of Star Platinums ora ora thing.

Who would be Twilight though? If you haven't watched Smile HD Twilight is the first to die when Pinkie Pie runs up to her and kicks her in the head so hard she is decapitated. At first I thought "hmm, since Jotaro was the MC he should also be the MC in the MLP universe" but then I remembered Fluttershy and her star platinum-type punches and I couldn't refuse that.

"what about Iggy?" You're probably asking. Well since there are 6 crusaders and 6 main my little ponies, it wouldn't be hard doing this... At least for someone who isn't like me.

You see I do not like animal cruelty to any extent, it breaks my heart, even if it's fictional it's hard for me to watch, when Iggy died in the actual anime that was already pushing it for me, so the thought of Kakyoin hurting Iggy like that doesn't sit right with me. And also I don't think Kakyoin (even in his evil psychotic pinkie pie mode) would stoop down to hurting a cute dog.

Since Hol Horse was originally supposed to join the Stardust Crusaders, I have declared him Twilight Sparkle in the smile HD x JoJo's crossover.

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cosmic--dandelion · 2 years ago

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So I have a fairly unique take on Kakyoin's backstory in my own writing. I wrote his parents as straight up toxic, psychologically and sometimes physically abusive, and neglectful. My version of Kakyoin ran away from home years before he met Jotaro, spent some time in a mental institution, and instead of being stalked and kidnapped, deliverately sought Dio out on his own.

Quite a departure from the more commonly accepted "Kakyoin has nice, normal parents who just didn't understand him" interpretation, huh? So why did I write this (other than the fact that I graviate toward angsty backstories) and how does it fit what we know about Kakyoin?

Kakyoin's most obvious feature is his intelligence. All of his friends, who are (mostly) brainy guys themselves, acknowledge that he's the best, most reliable strategist in the group, and a good portion of his dislogue is info-dumping. As expected of an honor student, he's very prim and proper to contrast Jotaro's delinquent image. Yet he's also weird, socially awkward, brutally honest, and emotionally distant. I've heard him described as having no setting in between "uncomfortably polite" and "rude bastard", and damn if that doesn't fit him like glove. In battle, he's probably the scariest, most ruthless crusader and is perfectly capable of straight-up beating the shit out of his closest friends, even if he's also capable of bring the bigger person and forgiving them. Friendship and bonds are everything to him. He's caring and empathetic but has balls of steel and takes exactly zero shit from anyone. He's quite familiar with other cultures' customs and traditions, implying he's an experienced traveler. Kakyoin is very independent and has skills, knowledge, and confidence you wouldn't expect a normal kid his age to have.

I wrote a little about Kakyoin's backstory in the second fanfiction I ever wrote, "Facets" and then in great detail in "In Water". If you haven't yet, please go check them out! They are, in my opinion, quite a bit more interesting that just hearing me talk about them. Now onto spoilers, for both the manga and my own work.

So this is Kakyoin's canonical backstory. All of it. The anime isn't canon, the fighting games aren't canon, the Josuke and Hol Horse spin-off isn't canon. Only this is, plus that 19 page backstory Araki wrote for him thirty years ago that will never see the light of day.

This is it. There's a blurb on his character profile that mentions that his parents are alive, they think he ran away, and they're either "shocked " or "very worried" depending on the translation. Then he dies, and in typical Araki fashion, Kakyoin is never seen or referenced again.

The sheer amount of angst Kakyoin had over no one being able to see his stand, even compared to other born stand users, makes me think there's more to it.

In my version of his backstory, Kakyoin's parents are poor. His dad is a rather unimpressive, unambiguous office worker who's made several bad business decision, escalating tensions between him and his wife. She hails from an upper middle class background and is generally a bit snobbish and image-conscious. Kakyoin's birth just adds fuel to the flames. In addition to being another mouth to feed, he has inexplicably bright red hair and violet eyes. (In my version of the jjba-verse, born stand users just have weird hair and eye colors sometimes.) The husband decides that this means his wife cheated on him with a red-headed foreigner.

Kakyoin is a problem child. He's exceptionally bright and imaginative in a school system (remember, it's 1970s Japan) that doesn't know how to handle gifted children, and he's non-neurotypical with a troubled home life to boot. That conversation with his teacher probably happens around this time. He self isolates, but he's not causing trouble on purpose, and the other kids are intimidated, but not hateful. Yet.

Then his parents have a their worst fight yet, and Kakyoin loses control of Hierophant due to stress and almost kills his father. The man is traumatized (as you would be if you were possessed by an invisible tentacle monster only you son can see and control) and abandons his own family. The mother knows Kakyoin did *something*, but she doesn't know what. Her resentment deepens, and they continue to drift apart.

Kakyoin's relationship with his mother reaches its nadir, and now he *is* getting ostracized. He's angry at the world and starting to lash out. By age 10, Kakyoin has started seeing counselors. He is misdiagnosed as having a whole host of scary-sounding mental disorders and is forced to take powerful mood stabilizers and antipsychotics every day. After all, he spends all his time playing with someone they can't see and drawing a weird green thing that looks like a cthulhuloid abomination. The mother reaches her breaking point and surrenders him to a combination group home/"special school". This experience defined him probably more than any other event in his life before this point. It's incredibly violating and humiliating, and Kakyoin develops a complex about always having to be seen as the smartest guy in the room.

At around age 14, he runs away, desperate to find more people like him. On his travels, he hears rumors about a mysterious, beautiful man in Egypt with strange powers. The entire "family vacation" to Egypt was a lie he made up on the spot because he didn't want to admit that HE sought Dio out, not the other way around, and that he's a runaway with a checkered past.

So what about his parents? My version of Kakyoin doesn't hate them and would have at least tried to bridge the gap between them if they'd both hasn't so thoroughly cut him out of their lives. He feels guilty on some level for not being a good enough son, and he wants to believe that they still love him on some level. Hence the "I'm sorry for making you worry" line.

Are they worried? Probably. They're shitty parents, not monsters.

(The "mom has dad and dad has mom" line? The former Mrs. Kakyoin had a revolving line of boyfriends and lovers, so Kakyoin started to think of 'dad' as a temporary position in her life rather than a singular person. Growing up in a dysfunctional family with no socialization with peers who had normal ones, he has a warped view of how families are.)

So what about Dio?

This one's pretty easy. In my version, Dio acted like a friend at first, lulling Kakyoin into a false sense of security. He was a little intimidated, but not full on terrified. Dio didn't want to risk destroying Kakyoin's brain, finding it quite useful, so he basically tried to groom him so the fleshbud wouldn't be needed. Then once Dio realized that Kakyoin was going to be harder to control than his other minions, he implanted the fleshbud. Dio being Dio, he decided to scare the shit out of the poor kid, savoring his pain and horror and sense of betrayal.

I think I would probably feel differently giving Kakyoin this amount of baggage if I ever wrote anything canon-compliant. I also didn't add it to make him more of a wobbie or break him so Jotaro could fix him with the power of yaoi.

It means something to me that (my version of) Kakyoin went through all this shit and healed from it and went on to lead a long, happy, successful life.

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #noriaki kakyoin #stardust crusaders #meta #my writing #child abuse #ableism #neglectful parents #backstory #character study #in water #facets #spoilers #long post

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junosartsthetic · 2 years ago

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heyyyyy!

i hope you're well!!

i was just wondering if I could request some cuddling headcanons for polnareff and hol horse because i love them so much!

have a good rest of your day and stay hydrated!!<3333

Thank you thank you! I'm doing pretty good at the moment ^-^

These are kind of short because I'm easing myself back into writing now that I'm feeling better, but knowing me I'll write entire fics about these two concerning this topic soon enough cause I'm down bad.

Jean Pierre Polnareff

He is one of the clingiest people you will ever meet in your entire life

Period

He adores PDA

He’ll always have an arm around or on you

When it comes so snuggles he won’t hesitate to wrap you up in his arms and keep you there

If you’re near him you have to be touching him

It’s the rules

Or else he’ll think he did something wrong

He always makes sure you’re comfortable, and will move around until you’re content with how you two are cuddling

You’re his main priority

Always

He likes when you lean against his chest and/or use him as a pillow

He thinks it’s cute

When you two are laying down he always pulls your back against his chest and curls around you

Watch out because he snores like a lawnmower

Sometimes he wakes up with you sleeping on the couch because you couldn’t sleep with his constant snoring

He always feels terrible about it

Overall 10/10 cuddles would recommend

Hol Horse

This main pretends he doesn't care for fluffy sappy stuff like cuddling

But sometimes when he dozes off on the couch you’ll lean against him and join him in a nap

You’ll wake up with him rubbing you gently, admiring you

He’s down bad for you

It’s not often he initiates the snuggling

But as you two become more comfortable around each other and he begins to open up

He’ll gladly scoop you into his arms casually and plant a kiss to your lips

When in bed he’ll sleep on his back (like a freak, I may add. Idk how anyone can fall asleep on their back, side sleepers ily muah)

You’ll lean against his chest, listening to his breathing and heartbeat

Sometimes he’ll wrap an arm around you

If he’s feeling really sweet he’ll pull you against his chest and kiss your neck and shoulders

Maybe even a massage if you’re stressed and tense

His favorite way to snuggle with you is sitting on his lounge-chair, you on his lap, as the two of you watch TV or simply nap the day away

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drearycowboy · 2 years ago

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Tennessee Whiskey (Hol Horse one shot)

About: you meet Hol Horse at a bar and hit it off :)

It was a around 11:45 on a Tuesday night. The bar was quiet and empty for the most part. The only patrons that remained there so late were a few regulars who seemed to be there every day of the week. All familiar faces except for a man who you had never seen before. He was a tall man with a cowboy hat on. He sat quietly at one of the tables, listening to the radio; it being the only noticeable thing in the building to fill the unbearable silence. She’s Got You by Pasty Cline played loudly while being accompanied by the occasional sound of clinking glasses and tired sighs.

You stood behind the counter cleaning shot glasses with an old rag until the man in the cowboy hat got up and started walking towards you.

He leaned onto the bar with his elbow and asked, “Mind if have refill?” The cigar hanging from his mouth slightly bouncing as he spoke. He nudged his glass over to you on the counter. You quickly pulled out a tall glass bottle, pulled his glass towards you on the counter, and poured him another glass of Tennessee whiskey.

“I haven’t seen you around here before. What’s your name, stranger?” You ask, putting away the bottle.

The strange man breathed in before replying, “Hol Horse,” taking the cigar out of his mouth and exhaling the cloud of smoke from his mouth.

“Where’ya from?” You ask, just trying to make small talk to pass the time until your shift ends.

“You wouldn’t know,” Hol Horse smiled, obviously dancing around the question to avoid answering. At that point you just stayed silent. There was no point in talking to someone if they were not going to answer you properly.

Hol Horse had basically chugged the glass and was not fiddling with it. Running his finger around the brim of the glass.

“So, what’s yer name?” He asked and pushed the glass back towards you. You told him your name and he nodded his head. A soft, sneaky grin formed on his face.

“How long you’ve been workin’ here?” He asked, he pulled the stool out from the bar and took a seat. He leaned in onto the bar, his elbows sitting on the table with his hands resting on his face.

“About 2 and a half years, I think…” you informed, glancing up to Hol Horse every once and a while from cleaning the glasses. The grin stayed on his face as the two of you talked for the next few hours. It was probably the most fun you have had at that job in ages. Hol Horse was genuinely interesting to listen to. His voice dripping with sweet southern charm as he told you wild stories about his adventures in his life. It was like this man put you under a deep spell.

By the time Hol Horse had gotten done talking he had drunk the bar shelves dry. The rest of the patrons had went on home, but Hol Horse sat there and talked to you still. You should have left 35 minutes ago, but his voice was so intoxicating to listen to. Especially with how he talked to you. The constant pet names, lovingly sounding words, the sweet charm that would roll off of the tip of his tongue. He would call you “darling” and “baby” casually through the conversation, the cute flirtatious attitude he held towards you, and the words that oozed with confidence.

“It’s gettin’ late, babe. I better start headin’ outta here.” He smiled as he clumsily got off the stool, staggering as he stood up. He put down some cash on the table and started to walk towards the exit.

“Wait!” You exclaimed, following him. He stopped in his tracks and looked behind himself. You didn’t even know what you were doing or what you were going to say. It is like your brain had stopped working and your body was acting on its own, or being controlled by something else.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, turning around.

You stared at him with big eyes, not sure of what to say or do now. You were a stammering mess. Your throat was suddenly dry. Your face burned red with embarrassment. He stared back at you with a raised brow and a slight smirk resting on his face.

This was humiliating. It was such a strange feeling considering that you had spent such a long time with the man and had not had this problem once.

“How ‘bout we go out sometime, somewhere different from here? Would you like that, darlin’?” He asked, leaning forward towards your face. He stood there grinning like a cat while he awaited for your response.

“That sounds great, actually.” You sheepishly responded. Hol Horse walked back towards the bar and grabbed a napkin out of the napkin holder and a pen in the cup next to the register. He started to write down his number and gave it to you. You looked down at the napkin with the messy handwriting from the cowboy. You tucked away the napkin in your pocket for later.

“Well then, I’ll be waitin’ for yer call,” he started, tipping his hat to you, “I’ll be seein’ you later, babe.” Then he walked out of the bar.

AUTHORS NOTE: Sorry yall I wrote this when my power went out so lol it’s not v good <3

#jojos bizarre adventure #jojo fanfic #jojo shitpost #jojo one shot #jjba hol horse #hol Horse #hol horse x reader #jjba #jjba stardust crusaders #jjba fanfic #jjba part 3 #jjba fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #jojo #jojo x reader

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thetalkingwave · 2 years ago

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Chapter 5 should be coming out by the end of the week, and I needed a cleaner direct reference to describe Polnareff's and Hol Horse's princely attire~

#hol horse #jean pierre polnareff #jjba #stardust crusaders #sketch #fanfiction art #wavie's art #wavie's queue #(mild spoiler but not really it's a dream sequence so alas they really aren't wearing dashing clothes (○｀ 3′○))#(but clothing is clothing and I didn't wanna brain blast on what it looked like in my mind when I was ediitng Dx)#(and maybe..maybe a teeny tiny part of me wanted to draw more blushy Hol Horse (>///>;) )#(ooh also fun fact if it looks a little different its because I sketched these out with a sleek new .9 pencil then digitized em :3)

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teethrotter · 3 years ago

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new person, same old mistakes.

Hol's diminishing smoke breaks tend to be more thoughtful these days. Oingo occasionally finds an excuse to join him.

CW for smoking / cigarettes, brief descriptions of nicotine withdrawal, allusions to past abuse and internalized homophobia, etc.

Nighttime disturbances had been a staple in Hol’s life for as long as he could recall. He grew accustomed to thumps and bumps throughout his childhood, particularly after the birth of his feisty younger siblings, but the abrupt presence of such sounds never failed to have him reaching for the bedside lamp.

He was a surprisingly light sleeper, all things considered. He gradually taught himself to simply roll onto his side and return to sleep once he confirmed there was no imminent danger, but sudden movements and similar phenomena still managed to rouse him near instantaneously well into his adolescent years - quite analogous to the pull of a trigger.

Leaving home at sixteen removed most of the threat, but his twenties brought an altogether new disturbance to fill the void left by the absence of his siblings’ nightly squabbles, this one much more discreet.

He consumed his first cigarette at fourteen years old - it was bummed off of an older cousin. Given that stale smoke had burrowed into the floorboards and walls of his own childhood home ( and those of his relatives ) long before he was born, it was only logical that he would follow the set pattern.

With puberty came a square, bold facial structure, a charismatic, low voice, and sandy blonde hair sheared by the razor adjoining the bathroom sink, intentionally highlighting any rugged features that he possessed.

At fifteen years old, any brand of cigarettes his heart desired was consistently given without suspicion or simply pocketed surreptitiously from the counter. He had been tethered to a chain ever since, exhaling the smoke of innumerable packs from the porch of their mobile home or toward the bedroom ceiling in the night. The smell already permeated any enclosed space in the house, so his further caking failed to be noticed.

With his twenties came random nocturnal awakenings a few days out of every week. There was rarely any sound to warrant such arousal, but his body could indubitably produce a cause for him instead: nicotine dependency. After it settled that it had waited long enough, it begun to stubbornly demand its fix.

Hol was initially annoyed by these events, but he soon realized that he did not particularly mind the ritual. Bemoaning insignificant, uncontrollable happenings clashed heavily with his life’s philosophy of lackadaisical lethargy. Besides, he lived alone in an apartment atop a hill in Columbus, Georgia - observing a portion of the city’s nightlife at unpredictable hours always proved to be better entertainment than anything he could have sought out.

Any shifts in a city’s early morning routine tended to be subtle. Most of them began as quiet and contemplative, perhaps indolent; Hol was content to watch the ash from his cigarettes drift down to the ground adjoining multiple motel rooms. He typically returned to bed after his craving was sated, later being woken again naturally as his body grew impatient. That would usually mark when he rose to address the remainder of the day.

Egypt was one of the countries he regarded most fondly from his years of near penniless world travel. Cairo was perpetually bustling and pipe smokers could be found at every turn / intersection ( not even to mention the comparative brashness of sociability and the ease with which he could slip into obscurity ).

After vacating his home state of Alabama, Hol embodied the ideal definition of a drifter or vagabond, much preferring to keep to himself unless he happened upon a captivating woman. If that proved to be the case, he was content to seduce and toy with her for a brief period, purely in the selfish pursuits of amusing and occupying himself. Odd jobs, tobacco, and liquor could only stimulate for so long.

Under his parents’ roof, Hol’s hair was never permitted to grow beyond his ears. It was both in nebulous rebellion and blithe unconcern that he allowed its length to reach his midback over the course of a decade ( plus a handful more years ). He undeniably did not maintain it as well as he should have, but it was not especially thick, so surely there was no real harm being done.

A dismissive and downplaying frame of mind seemed to be his default response to any unhealthy habits he may have accumulated. His thought patterns often followed a similar disorganized sequence whenever he would step outside to smoke as of late.

He was well into his thirties now and had learned more about the functioning of the world within the past five years than he ever could have over the course of his wandering.

As much as Hol preferred to pin it as a contagion from his husband’s meek demeanor, he had unquestionably become more introspective / reflective with age. Devoid of constant stimulation, he had little else to do during his brief breaks from the world.

Despite everything, he could not honestly say that he held any palpable regrets ( definitely not as of late ), but there was a novel stability to his life that was utterly alien. Not that it was a negative circumstance - he rather enjoyed allowing thoughts of the past come and go as they pleased, operating as an objective observer and nothing more.

He managed to purchase his first static home, realized that he was not ( and never truly had been ) interested in women, gotten married, adopted children, all the occurrences he never would have anticipated for himself. Of them all, accepting his own sexuality had easily been the most difficult, but he elected not to dwell on that whole fiasco all too much. The important part was that he was here in this moment, very predominantly satisfied with his course in life.

His first cigarette was through: the heat of the embers above the filter lapped at his calloused fingers.

In the months following the move into his inaugural house, Hol began making a conscious effort not to smoke inside, more due to the gorgeous front patio than anything else. It would be a heinous crime not to utilize it as much as possible.

He repositioned each of his ashtrays outside, one placed on top of the patio’s side table and the other perched on the railing of the back deck. Ogling the sunset while drawing on a cigarette deposited him back into his teenage years regardless, and feeling younger was never unwelcome.

Legally adopting Oingo and Boingo so that they could more easily acquire legitimate American paperwork only cemented his decision to regulate smoking solely to the outdoors.

Once Daniel moved in, Hol began to actively mind his habitual chain smoking. Vaping served as a useful alternative for a time in Egypt, but following his release from the hospital, cigarettes were simply the more accessible option. Daniel did not particularly care for smoke anymore ( it choked his lungs ) and Hol was reluctant to leave him deserted and desolate for any prolonged period of time, so breaking the habit at least marginally seemed to be the best option.

Really, he did not need the unending intake, anyway. That was what he told himself when he ceased to feel any form of satisfaction immediately tailing his singular cigarettes.

Tending to Oingo and Boingo was something that Hol religiously abided by. Truthfully, Oingo had already done most of the work for him, something that he would never be able to fix for him - the streets of Cairo were far too unforgiving and inhospitable for a young child raising his infant sibling on scraps.

Oingo was above the age of eighteen when Hol began seriously considering adoption; he could have lived separately on his own if he so wished. However, he would have to be cold and dead to ever willingly abandon Boingo to the man who once abducted them. He ultimately consented to legal adoption once Boingo made their own decision, something that delighted Hol more than anything else had in a long while.

Even after the legal proceedings, Oingo continued to bear the brunt of parenting simply due to an assumed reflex, but Boingo was much less trouble to him than they had been in years past. They minded Oingo on a level far superior to what Hol or Daniel could ever hope to achieve, but that was already common knowledge. They were content with merely having the siblings together in their home.

His curated family was a prime distraction, Hol settled, and so he was soon able to limit his cigarette consumption to one per session. He was still tearing through a pack on a daily basis, but it was far better than mindlessly chain smoking until his body grew too sick to continue.

Hol stubbed the filter out in his patio ash tray, making a mental note to clear it. The stray cats would be swarming the porch soon; most of them materialized around dusk.

Another shift accompanying Daniel’s presence was the cats. Wildcard was an old, pretty, lovable thing, content to mellowly lie in the sun most days and be fawned over. She was a spoiled lap cat, Daniel’s sole companion through all aspects of his life. Hol swiftly fell smitten with her.

The meandering strays were introduced as a result of Daniel regularly leaving bowls of food out on the patio after stumbling upon a pregnant cat pawing at the door one night. Of course, he captured her and brought her to the veterinarian the very next day.

After figuring that she was in decent health, Daniel attentively fussed and cooed whenever she would return for his daily feedings. Once her litter was born, their home was swiftly established as a buffet, several farm cats nonchalantly visiting throughout the day. Hol and Daniel made a combined effort to place names to any new arrivals and restock the bowls on a routine basis.

Truth be told, Hol enjoyed the company while he smoked. He would lightly stroke their ears and ruffle their fur, crooning at them in his sandpapery voice and occasionally receiving purrs or another vocal response in turn. He chose his favorites among them, but as Wildcard was now a house cat, it was only fair that she secured her place in first.

He reclined into his rocking chair, humming throatily to himself. His eyes drifted lazily to observe the morphing sky, reminiscent of the Deep South sunsets from his childhood. His thoughts momentarily lapsed after consuming his cigarette, leaving his fingers to drum passively over the arms of his chair.

Summer was indisputably taking root. The pads of his fingertips were slightly sticky with sweat.

Abruptly, the screen door banged open. Hol ceased rocking, turning his head toward the noise.

Oingo was shutting the glass door behind him, maneuvering himself to sit in what was typically Daniel’s adjoining chair. Hol merely leaned back to press against the pillow he situated in his seat long ago.

“Christ, Oingo. Scared the shit outta me,” Hol chuckled, lips splitting into an easy grin to display his teeth. His voice was smoky now, gravelly and hoarse. His fingers intertwined to rest over his protruding gut.

Oingo only grunted. He carried something of a cold shoulder with Hol, given his history with Boingo, but he inarguably warmed some over the years; Hol cannot and does not ask for anything more. Affability must have its perks.

“Where’s Boingo? Do they not wanna spend some time with me out here, too?”

“They went down for bed already. I think Daniel got them tired.”

Daniel went to bed far in advance of any of the others in the house, but none of them minded. Hol would more than likely join him upon stepping back inside.

“Damn.” The word was jovial: Hol was visibly relaxed, body all but sliding out of his rocking chair onto the wooden floor below. “Was hopin’ they’d come and see me before they conked out.”

Oingo snorted amicably. He wordlessly reached for Hol’s vulnerable pack of cigarettes on the table, removing one and slotting it between his lips. His next words were slightly muffled as a result. “This is really the hottest region in America? Pretty damn weak. Nothing at all compared to Egypt.”

“Damn straight. The humidity makes it fuckin’ awful, though.”

Hol hardly even glanced as his pack was shifted. Oingo did not make it a habit to smoke, but Hol was fully aware that he had a teenage history of smuggling tobacco from vendors. Not wishing to coerce Boingo into bad habits more than he ( unwittingly ) already had, Oingo made it a personal rule to instead slip out a few nights of the month to bum a cigarette or two off of Hol once he was certain that his sibling was deeply asleep.

Daniel was probably aware of their unspoken agreement somehow, but he never dragged it into conversation, so Hol let it continue. Daniel would not be capable of adequately understanding Hol’s willingness to occasionally indulge Oingo’s secret, regardless - better supplied sporadically by him than regularly by a clerk.

Oingo gripped Hol’s prone lighter, also positioned on the table, and torched the end of the rod. Hol could hear him inhale and smelled the tobacco as it escaped his mouth. “At least there is humidity. I don’t think I even understood what it was before coming here.”

“Fair enough. I’d still trade it for Cairo’s dry ass air any day. At least that shit ain’t hell on long hair - I don’t need no damn frizz, you know.” He tipped the brim of his hat to rest over his eyes and avoid the sun’s glare, sighing deeply as his chin tucked into his chest. His hair was tied back because of both the humidity and the inclination the nape of his neck had to sweat ( it would still easily frizz ).

“You think you know what frizz is, Hol Horse? I’m Black.”

Hol laughed, a husky noise from deep in his chest. “Fair point, fair point.”

Comfortable silence settled between them, Oingo puffing on his cigarette as Hol briefly rested. Warm, suffocating summer air could inspire drowsiness for him like almost nothing else. The sun ducked below the horizon, washing the scenery of their rural home in dark purples and blues.

The first of the strays began to appear, Oingo bending down to rub gently at its ears as it ducked its head into one of the food bowls. This one was somewhat narrow and coarse, aptly dubbed “Billy the Kid” by Hol after it visited for the second or third time. It paid Oingo’s attention little mind.

Oingo reclined back into Daniel’s chair after a moment more of petting, exhaling smoke into the damp air. His voice was low, monotonous, soft. “I think I’ll take Boingo to get ice cream tomorrow. They heard at school today the stand that one old man runs is open for the summer now.”

“As long as y’all get somethin’ for your old men.” Hol grinned, indicating his humor. “Nah, just kiddin’. I’ll make sure y’all have money. Just walk there after you pick up Boingo?”

“Mhm.” Oingo had taken up a part-time job recently, one that coincided with Boingo’s school hours.

Learning to properly drive had been an arduous task for Oingo to undertake but he eventually managed to pass and acquire his license, consequently insisting on attending to any of Boingo’s transportation needs ( though each of them still preferred to walk whenever possible ).

Oingo suddenly bent forward, eyes sliding closed. The cigarette dangled loosely from his fingers.

Hol was only aware that his position changed because the sound of wood teetering against wood subsided. He does not bother to open his eyes.

“Somethin’ wrong, Oingo?”

“Nah. Headrush.”

Hol snorted, his upper lip curling in amused fondness. “Hah. Headrushes. Don’t remember the last time I had one of those.”

“Shut up. I can probably still handle it better than you can. You haven’t tried Jotaro’s cigarette trick without fucking up.”

“Hey, now. That’s a sore spot.” Hol’s tone was filled with unconcerned jocularity.

That was another benefit of being alone with Oingo: they were both much more willing to allude to thorny subjects of the past without needing to account for accidentally triggering Daniel / Boingo’s PTSD symptoms. Dark humor was a coping mechanism in and of itself, one that could only be indulged in the proper company.

“Serves you right. At least I can still get some enjoyment out of a cigarette. I’m not just a damn nicotine fiend.”

“I could still technically send you to the corner, you know.”

“I’ve never been sent to the corner in my life.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

Oingo scoffed. A pleasant silence took root as his cigarettes gradually died, stubbing the embers out into Hol’s ash tray once a fraction of the tobacco remains outside of the filter.

“Not as strong as Egyptian tobacco. American cigarettes are still tolerable, though.”

“You’re tellin’ me. American tobacco is nothing compared to a ton of other countries. We’re kinda just worse at everything, you know.” Hol winked, finally pushing himself into a proper sitting position. He sighed deep in his chest as he audibly set his joints back into place, grimacing all the while.

“Old man.” Oingo’s head tilted to compress the headrest of Daniel’s rocking chair. His eyes flitted passively to behold the night sky, stray cats slowly collecting at the food bowls about his feet.

Hol pocketed his cigarettes and lighter, standing from his chair.

“For damn sure. Just remember to lock the door when you come in, alright? Don’t need Boingo or Daniel worried about no crooks.”

Oingo merely offered a hum in reply. He glanced up to the older man from his current seat and wordlessly extended his hand for the brief handshake they concocted over the years.

Hol returned the gesture on reflex and stepped into the living room, screen door banging shut behind him.

Soon, he would need to quit entirely, whether as a result of Daniel’s subtle pleading or because of his own conviction. He could always think of such things tomorrow; expending the willpower on it tonight would be helpful to nobody at all. There were always greater things to address.

One of them being the fact that Daniel was likely waiting up for him.

#fanfiction #hol horse #oingo jjba #jojo's bizzare adventure stardust crusaders #headcanon #writing tag #original date: 04 / 19 #more context on ao3 under same username and title as per usual

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surpriserose · 3 years ago

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I’M FREE the whole thing is done until I go back and edit shit. Read it if you like dumb jokes and hol horse <3

#jjba #jjba fanfic #hol horse #jojo fanfic #fanfiction #now i can move on to gay foolymes stuff :]

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shinyspanishgem · 5 months ago

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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Giorno Giovanna & Hol Horse, Pannacotta Fugo/Giorno Giovanna, Dio Brando & Hol Horse, Hol Horse/Enrico Pucci, Giorno Giovanna & Guido Mista Characters: Giorno Giovanna, Hol Horse, Giorno Giovanna's Mother, Bruno Buccellati's Gang Members, Bruno Buccellati, Pannacotta Fugo, Guido Mista, Narancia Ghirga, Trish Una, Leone Abbacchio, Dio Brando, Dio Brando's Children, Diavolo (JoJo), Enrico Pucci Additional Tags: Hol Horse raises Giorno, American Giorno, Kid Giorno Giovanna, Teenage Giorno Giovanna, Single Parents, forced unclehood, Hol Horse is Guido Mista's Father, lemme hide that little thing in the tags, PTSD From Dio Brando | PTSDio, Cowboy!Giorno Giovanna, Cowboys & Cowgirls, Giorno's mom is a baddie, Texas, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enrico is that uncle that's in a piramid scheeme, AU, alternative universe, Stands Summary:

When Hol Horse meets Giorno's mother, she's pregnant and asking for Dio, he doesn't think thats a reasonable route to go about, so he ends up helping her, which leads to a lot.

This is the story of how Giorno is raised by Hol Horse, and how his plans to be the best Cowboy in all of Texas take a turn when they travel to Italy, and meet Bruno. Who is really cool, by the way, so maybe Cowboy!Giorno prefers to be an Italian gangster, all the while, Mista wonders who his father is.

#jjba #jojo #jojos bizarre adventure #fanfic #fanfiction #Hol Horse #Hol Horse raises Giorno #giorno giovanna #DIO #Hol Horse is Mista's father #au #Cowboy jjba #fugio

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gio-is-writing · 5 years ago

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New Jojo’s Writing Blog♡

Hello! My name is Giovanna and I finally decided to create my own blog to write my own stories. I’m so excited to put said stories out and even write request you might have!

I’ll be posting my writing rules after this so feel free to check them out ♡

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spacehareart · 1 year ago

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She's just feeling silly Hol Horse, don't worry.

Tumblr don't shoot me down those are man presenting boobs.. ( shhh )

Note: i Do NOT consent my art to being used for: NFTs/AI Art, Tracing/Stealing/Reposting, Youtube/Videos/Tiktok etc, a thumbnail for fanfiction, roleplay of any kind, etc.

I DO consent my art for: Being tagged as kin/me/IRL/F/O, etc, Used as an icon (as long as you credit/link back to me (you MUST reblog the art first so i know (unless we are close), Draw fanart in general / our designs interacting / oc interaction.

Reblogs help more than likes !!!

#Jjba #hol horse #Dio brando #Spacehareart #plural artist #Disabled artist

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sapphire-heart-tippy · 4 years ago

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I miss Blue Diamonds and Pink Hearts so much tbh... I was in the middle of rewriting it uuughhh... I need to do that soon. I miss Hol Horse

Yeah I'm still doing the vampire Tessa au where she's with Dio etc

But the original bdph made me so happy and I get nostalgic from it for some reason. I want to change it up a little bit because it definitely had a ton of flaws and was choppy and misspellings and ooc moments (even for my character). I want to make it better. I'll still keep the old version up but I at least want to actually end a freaking fanfic for once 🤣

Also I miss Estrella too...

I miss the fun goofy escapades Hol and Tess (old name Tip/Tippy, but I changed it to Tessa because Tippy is my name and I didn't exactly want her to be me you know?) got into... The drama, the comedy, the romance... I had so many ideas.

Robbie Slice was a fun character too... I think about him a lot. Gonna rewrite his part of the story too 💖

There's 4 things I've gotta rewrite/write

• Blue Diamonds and Pink Hearts (original timeline)

• Blue Diamonds and Red Hearts (Vampire timeline)

• Robbie Slice Returns/Debut

• Estrella's arc

This will be fun 💙

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fivour · 4 years ago

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the universe in your hand

pairings: hol horse/vanilla ice characters: hol horse, vanilla ice, steely dan tags: developing relationship, timeline what timeline, jealous hol horse, terence & daniel are in the background being siblings, and by that i mean fighting over poker, light-hearted fluff, flirting, title sounds SO pretentious lol this ain't that deep words: 940 status: complete

summary: Hol Horse is glad to see that this time, when Vanilla Ice comes across them playing a game in the billiards room, he doesn't run off. Instead, he accepts Hol's invitation to join and sits between him and Steely Dan on the loveseat, while the D'arby brothers play poker as if their lives depend on it. Hol is also glad to notice that Vanilla sits closest to him, his legs curled up underneath of him, their thighs pressed up against each other. It doesn't take long, however, for Dan to join their idle conversation about the D'arbys.

read it on ao3 | send an ask | preview below the cut

Hol Horse is glad to see that this time, when Vanilla Ice comes across them playing a game in the billiards room, he doesn't run off. Instead, he accepts Hol's invitation to join and sits between him and Steely Dan on the loveseat, while the D'arby brothers play poker as if their lives depend on it. Hol is also glad to notice that Vanilla sits closest to him, his legs curled up underneath of him, their thighs pressed up against each other.

It doesn't take long, however, for Dan to join their idle conversation about the D'arbys.

"Do you know how to play poker?" Dan asks Vanilla. The brunette shakes his head.

"I've never been one for card games," he admits.

"That's a shame. They can be real fun," Dan says. He takes another sip of his beer.

The billiards room is a poor excuse for a man cave, with terrible, incoherent style; one or two pieces of cheap furniture that suggest no personality; and so much empty space that it's frankly a waste. It's horribly upsetting to Hol's inner decorator, though he finds that a swig or two of beer eases the discomfort.

Dan doesn't seem to mind the lack of an end table, setting his beer aside on the ground. He leans on an arm to be closer to Vanilla. "If you've never played poker, you've never played strip poker either, have you?" He asks.

Hol wants to slap that sleazeball up the right side of his head. Instead, he takes another drink.

#jjba #holnilla #hol horse #vanilla ice jojo #fanfic #steely dan #stardust crusaders #jojos bizarre adventure #fanfiction #fluff #this is so dumb don't even look at me #i think it's funny

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mirthless-misanthrope · 6 years ago

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When Snow Turned To Rain Part III (Jotaro Kujo Imagine) (Shenmue AU)

A/N: hoooo boy. this was my absolute favorite part of shenmue! i had to stop myself from writing more than this because trust me, I would’ve gone on for a lot longer. anyway this is part 3 of this mini series of mine! i decided to make it not as cliffhanger-y since i don’t know how long it’ll be before I can write for this again ;v; my brother is gonna be visiting this weekend and our guest room is... also the computer room so yknow.

For those who don’t know what Shenmue is: it’s a game series kind of similar to Yakuza. It’s about an 18 year old boy named Ryo that watches his father get killed by the antagonist (Lan Di). I tried to make this enjoyable for everyone, but just know it’s based on Shenmue!

in this AU, Jotaro witnessed his father get killed by DIO and his lackeys (i.e. Hol Horse, Vanilla Ice, etc.) and is pretty mad about it. I mean, who wouldn’t be? The story takes place in a town called Sakuragaoka (and later, other places by there). He only lives with Holly now. Reader or S/O is his childhood best friend, and he always protects her from bullies and… pretty much everything. I wrote this to be like SDC Jotaro since he’s 18 in this.

Trigger Warnings: harassment, swearing, hints of depression, kidnapping, implied violence bc jotaro beats people up

Link to Part I: https://asexual-agony.tumblr.com/post/185972738198/when-snow-turned-to-rain-part-i-jotaro-kujo

Link to Part II: https://asexual-agony.tumblr.com/post/186019336393/when-snow-turned-to-rain-part-ii-jotaro-kujo

please enjoy!! i had a little too much fun here whoops

It’s been a rough couple of days for me. Ever since Jotaro dismissed me like it was nothing to him, I haven’t left my home, too wrapped up in my own emotions to even try. My few friends come over sometimes and try to cheer me up, but I still refuse to leave the house. It hurts a bit too much this time, I always tell them, and yet they continue trying. Today is another one of those days. Two friends let themselves into the house and make their way to the nest of blankets and pillows I’ve made in my room.

“We told Jotaro how miserable you’ve been,” one friend starts. “We just… We want you to feel better about this… and maybe he’ll apologize when he realizes just how much he hurt you, y-y’know?” Feet shuffle closer to me. “It’s been six days since you told him, and you haven’t left your literal nest you’ve made, not even to eat! The only reason you’ve eaten anything is because your grandma doesn’t want you to starve, so she brings food up to you, and that’s a sign that you’re letting this affect you too much-”

“Get out of my house.”

Rising from the pile of blankets and pillows, I shoot both friends a piercing glare. They would later tell Jotaro that I was becoming more like him due to the intimidation emanating from me. “I said, get out. I-I’m sorry you guys, but I didn’t ask for visitors today. Just… Leave me be, okay? I’ll… I’ll go outside tomorrow. I promise you, I’ll try to get outside and walk around, so please, just leave me alone for now, okay?” They look at each other in shock before mumbling apologies and leaving almost as quickly as they showed up.

Sighing, I settle back into the center of my blankets and pillows. God, why would I promise that? Tomorrow’s gonna be awful.

…

Call me a fortune teller, because that statement was correct.

I don’t even make it two feet away from my house before I’m grabbed by some thugs. They’re sneering and laughing as they drag me away, and while I would usually panic in this kind of situation, I feel so utterly numb that I don’t even put up a fight. They yank me into a car and take me away, but I don’t care anymore. They can do whatever they want.

It’s when I overhear their plan that I snap out of the numbness in my heart and get confused. “Yeah, we got the bait for that nuisance Kujo kid,” someone mutters into a phone, “she didn’t even put up a fight like ya said she would. Ha, now we’ll get him for sure, boss.” They’re using me as bait to attract Jotaro? I let out a forced laugh, shaking my head at the men around me.

“Y’know… You might as well just kill me now, because he doesn’t care about me. He made that very clear a few days ago,” I murmur to them all, “sorry to disappoint.” The snickers I get in response puzzle me, however. Each one of the men around me starts laughing at my words. “Why are you laughing? I’m telling the truth. He doesn’t have time for pathetic people like me.” A hand on my shoulder normally would’ve startled me, but this time, I just look at whoever put their hand on me, eyebrows raised.

“You’re pretty blind, kid.”

“... Huh?”

“He just wanted you to be safe. He’s head-over-heels for you.”

And that set off an hour of questions raging in my mind.

...

Being as obedient as I am doesn’t do me any favors since the men tie me up anyway, chuckling at my lost expression. “Someone call Kujo,” a man behind me demands, and I turn to get a look at him. His blue eyes are piercing, though he isn’t glaring at me. The outfit he’s wearing reminds me of a cowboy, especially since he’s wearing a cowboy hat, and the gun in his holster sends a shiver down my spine. I don’t think I like this guy.

“So you’re the little lady that has Kujo wrapped around your finger, huh? Name’s Hol Horse.” He notices the fact that my eyes don’t move from his gun and he laughs, shaking his head. “I’m not here to kill you, or even hurt you. We just want Kujo. He’s been causing us Mad Angels a lotta trouble,” he scowls to himself, seeming irritated. “And all because he wants to find Lord Dio… god, I almost feel bad for the kid. But I can’t let him find Lord Dio, not yet.”

The sound of a dial tone makes me snap my gaze away from the man and over to where a few punks are calling someone, snickering to themselves.

I suppose I don’t prepare myself to hear Jotaro’s voice enough, because I gasp to myself.

“Kujo residence. Do you even know what time it is?”

“Yeah, we know. We also know you care dearly for this girl.”

The silence after is painstaking and hurts my heart more and more by the second.

Before I can help myself, I cry out to Jotaro, hoping he gets it. “Jotaro! I-It’s a trap, don’t listen to them-”

“Where is she,” Jotaro growls, cutting me off. “Let her go, she has nothing to do with this.” There’s shuffling on his end. He’s not… actually coming to help me, is he?

“Heh. Warehouse 15. Why don’t ya come get her before we get bored and have some fun, ah?” Hol Horse cuts in, smirking at the grunt Jotaro gives in response before the line goes dead. “And now, boys. We wait. Heh, what a sucker.

Jotaro is actually coming to help me? What kind of universe is this?

...

It feels like no time at all has passed before we hear the revving of a motorcycle. Each thug perks up at the sound, grinning at each other. He’s here, I realize, and he’s probably pissed.

What happens next is a blur: Jotaro barges in, relaxing only a little bit when he sees that I’m okay, and he starts to fight every thug in the warehouse, even Hol Horse. And to my surprise, he actually wins against all of them. “You,” his voice growls at Hol Horse, “where is Dio? Tell me now, or you’ll regret it.” Wait, Jotaro’s looking for the man that killed his father? “I would’ve let you off easy, but you went way too far, dragging her into this. Now tell me.”

I’m surprised when Hol Horse spits out the information. Sure, Jotaro is intimidating, but I didn’t realize a man as strong and determined as Hol Horse would submit so easily. And as soon as the location leaves the man’s mouth, Jotaro knocks him out, having no mercy… that is, until he turns to me.

“Yare yare… They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

My eyes widen. This is the softest I’ve ever heard him speak.

“I… n-no, they didn’t. But… Jotaro, why did you help me?”

… Silence.

Instead of speaking, Jotaro holds my hand in his and leads me to the motorcycle he rode here. My blushing face is obvious, I’m sure, but he doesn’t say a word about it. He hands me the one helmet he has, a light shade of pink on his cheeks as he mumbles, “Here, get on. I’ll get you home.”

And so, while riding on that motorcycle with my shaky arms wrapped around Jotaro’s waist, I realize that he didn’t really mean to hurt me. In fact, he most likely didn’t even realize how I would take a statement like that. Now, being so close to Jotaro as we head back to Sakuragaoka, I realize that maybe, just maybe…

Maybe he likes me too.

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