5"6.5, Blonde shoulder length hair, Hazel eyes! I'm a medium sized girl :) she/her pronouns. I'm bisexual but with a male lean.
I am a personality type INTG.
My enneagram is 1&2.
My hogwarts house is hufflepuff 💛
I bake 24/7 and am very good at it! Reading is also a main hobby of mine (I love fantasy books) as well as learning to play the ukelele!
I want to be a detective when I'm finished school, so crime shows are a favourite of mine- along with sitcoms or period dramas!
I have a wildly mixed music taste- although Hozier is a frequently played artist!
I often put other people before myself as I am the mother-hen of the friend group which is a major flaw in myself. I have anxiety so I overthink everything!
I'm an introvert but have a great sense of humour and can be wild with people I'm comfortable with.
Thanks again for doing this! 💛
✩ @reddeadrevolutionn aye no problem!! i hope you enjoy who i picked for you! ✩
✩ Finished Matchups / Matchup Queue ✩
i match you up with:
✩ Sean MacGuire ✩
Sean will braid your hair!!! There's no arguing about it!! He likes sitting on a chair with your head resting on his thigh as he braids it. They're not always the best, but he's proud of them. He definitely has a thing for blonde girls.
When you bake, always make an extra sheet of cookies/brownies for him. The first time you baked something early on in your relationship with him, he ate almost half of it. He can't help it! Your cookies/brownies are just too good!
"Darlin'! Yer bakin' is fuckin' amazing! Yer gonna make me s'more, right?"
"Sean, sweetie, you already ate five cookies and two brownies! If you eat any more, I won't have enough for everyone else!"
"So? I'mma growin' man, I need all the energy I can get! Gotta keep up with my sexy Gaelic gunslinger body you love s'much!"
"Sean, honey, if you don't shut the fuck up-"
Sean loves to have you sit on his lap when you read!! He'll have his hands on your waist, keeping you close as he rests his head on your shoulder. He tries to read along with you but always ends up falling asleep <3
He makes sure that you take care of yourself too!! Sure, he loves it when you dote on him and all, but you gotta take some time for yourself too!
Sean loves to go back and forth with you exchanging jokes and one-liners. The harder he can make you laugh, the harder he laughs. One time he made you cackle so hard you hiccupped for like ten minutes after.
Before he leaves for any job, he makes sure to kiss you all over your face as a goodbye. Sean always promises to come back home to you.
Thank you to @boiledhotdogwater for inspiring me to keep adding to this one
Also I’m calling it part 1 and a half because this is really really short and there’s still more to this little story! I hope you guys enjoy my writing.
He brought you to the old saloon out in Rhodes. You didn’t speak much, choosing instead to keep quiet and gather up your remaining dignity. The two of you rode into town wordlessly. He was kind to you, though. Understanding, gentle… he was the same, if not a little less rough around the edges. It’s funny what domestic life could do to a man like him. He was still the same dirty old John Marston with his scarred up, rough face and unkempt hair. All the same, but still different. You had imagined you’d find him differently. It didn’t feel right for him to have found you the way he did. It should have gone differently. Maybe you would have gotten around to visiting him at his new home with Jack and Abigail and had a nice, normal reunion with all three of them. Jack must’ve almost been all grown up by now…
There was silence between the two of you, even as you sat at the bar. You two were almost the only ones there, save for an old man who’d had too much to drink and the watchful bartender. It was John who broke the silence, finally.
“You know, the way Mary-Beth talked about you, I didn’t think you were doing… that badly.” And there it was. John’s undoubtedly brilliant way with words…
“I wasn’t.” You snapped rather quickly, rushing to your own defense. “You just caught me at a bad time… I hadn’t thought about any of this for… for years.” Quickly, you tilted your glass back and finished the rest of your drink, slamming the glass back onto the counter in your closed fist. “I’ve been doing pretty well for myself, Marston.”
“Is that so?” He hummed thoughtfully.
“You still haven’t told me why you’re here.” you said, waving down the bartender for another glass. A skillful attempt at changing the subject. John leaned against the counter with a shrug. He swirled the golden drink around in the glass thoughtfully.
“I was in town.”
“Where?” You scoffed. “You came to Rhodes alone on vacation? Right at the old campsite? Doesn’t seem like much of a coincidence.”
“Just lucky, I guess.” he muttered into the rim of the glass, taking a sip.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you’re looking for us.” the bartender gave you a nod as he slid your glass towards your hand. You caught it and quickly took another drink. “Forgive my hostility, but you’ve never seemed like the type.” John sighed, his eyes not leaving the table.
“Guess there’s some truth to that, isn’t there?”
You stiffened visibly, clutching the glass, putting two and two together. He was hunting you down, wasn’t he? Not just you, but all of the Van der Linde gang. What other explanation could there be? The dodging of the questions, the secrecy-
“Am I about to be led away in chains for my crimes, then, John?”
“What? No, ‘course not. I’m only lookin’ for Dutch and Bill and Javier.”
You gave him a cold, startled stare. It was the first confirmation you’d had in years that he was alive, and yet it brought you no joy. Just a cold, sick feeling.
“I don’t want any part in this.” You gathered yourself, standing up and walking to the front doors. “It was nice seeing you, John. Let’s not do this again.” You hurried away, leaving poor John behind.
“(Y/N), listen!” John shouted after you, but to no avail. You stormed outside, the saloon doors swinging behind you. With a frustrated huff, John tipped his hat to the bartender, dropping his money next to the glasses and hurrying outside. He grabbed your arm as you made your way down the stairs, stopping you. “They’ve got Abigail and Jack. I gotta bring them Dutch and the others or they won’t let ‘em go.” You jerked your arm away from him, and John backed away respectfully, raising his hands in surrender. “Listen...I don’t care much for him anymore. For Javier, I mean. But you? You were family to us. Thought you should know.” you turned away from him, your mind reeling. “I know what he meant to you, (Y/N).” You turned back around with a fierce, fiery anger in your eyes.
“Yes, John. Meant. Meant as in past tense. I burned what I had left of him for a reason. I’ve spent years keeping him and all of this out of my mind! Did it occur to you that maybe I didn’t want to care anymore?! That maybe I’d be better off not knowing?!” With every word, your voice became louder and angrier until you were practically spitting on the front steps of the saloon. John stood frozen for a moment before shaking his head slowly.
“That didn’t… that didn’t occur to me, I’m sorry.” he fumbled with his words for a bit, unsure of what to say. “But I came to tell you, and I’m gonna tell you anyway. Otherwise I just came all this way just to piss you off-- and that doesn’t sit right with me.” You crossed your arms, regaining your composure. “I have to catch him. For my sake. And when I do I won’t hold back. I will catch him, (Y/N). And I’m gonna hand him over to people who are gonna see him hanged.” You clenched your jaw and stared John in the eyes. You felt your heart catch in your throat, though you did everything in your power to make sure John couldn’t see it for himself. “But, whatever happens after they’ve got him is out of my hands. Seeing as you’re the last person on God’s green earth that gives a damn about that man, it’d be unfortunate if you knew where they were takin’ him… You didn’t hear it from me.”
The toe of your boot tapped nervously on the wood below your feet. Your eyes darted between buildings as you found yourself looking everywhere else but at John. Your heart pounded in your ears… you felt as though you didn’t have a clue what was going on anymore. How could your life have been going so well, so perfectly, just for all of it to come crashing down again in one night? You stopped tapping your foot. You closed your eyes and when you opened them, you were looking calmly at John again. You’d made up your mind already, hadn’t you?
“I hate him, John.” You said at last, soldiering through your words carefully, making sure not a single one wavered. “I hate him for what he did to all of us. But I don’t want him dead.”
Ask: hi bonnie welcome to tumblr!! can you imagine cuddling dutch, like i know itll probably only happen every blue moon but please i m a g i n e (i know u a dutch stan i saw it in your reblogs)
Note: Always down to write some Dutch, anon. ; ) This is the second ask for him, I believe. Really took a more romantic route with this one–albeit it is semi-steamy. Got rather carried away. Still, I hope you enjoy.
tw: some implied sexual content, but definitely nothing explicit.
(Reader is Gender-Neutral!)
Contrary to popular belief, Dutch Van der Linde isn’t above getting a little bit touchy.
–at least on his initiation, he isn’t.
Now, Dutch is by no means a cold and apathetic person. Ruthless, yes–maybe even reckless–but never passive. In fact, as a canon romantic, he can prove to be quite the opposite.
There’s simply a lot of passion when it comes to being with a man so full of dreams and musing.
Strike him as someone that won’t turn down the prospect of heart or excitement.
You’d be surprised by the amount of hand-holding and palm kisses you’re graced with.
–how he would squeeze your shoulders and brush his fingers over your burning cheeks.
The man has a habit of whisking you away–of putting the world on pause.
He likes it, really; the power and meaning even his tiniest gestures could offer you.
That resembles a lot to him. And seeing you buzz under the weight of his palm is one other thing that Dutch could easily gain pleasure from.
Now, when it comes to ‘cuddling’, the sentiment more or less remains the same.
–cuddling is different. Cuddling is not a searing kiss nor a hungry grab.
In a way, it’s a more idle, intimate, and vulnerable act that requires you to stay put.
And Dutch is a man of fickle tendencies.
Despite all the attention he’s willing to give, the outlaw can often swing between affectionate and distant: one moment he has his palms fluttering around the air, silver tongue already weaving out the most charismatic of sonnets–the next, he’s placidly urging you away, seeking space to ruminate on whatever was bothering him.
“Not now, my dear…” He’ll tell you as nicely as he can, but the lilt of his voice betrays him still.
–it does at some point become clear to you that he places great value on his own privacy. Meaning: when he’s not in the mood, he’s just not in the mood.
There’s no persuading him, he won’t budge. That man is about as resolute as a rock.
Rather, with Dutch, it’s important that you need to catch it at the right time.
Truth be told, you’re often confused by how that not-so-subtle touchiness can fall flat from a hundred to zero, yet rise back again from a zero to another brilliant hundred just as quickly and…randomly.
If he’s stressed, or in need of comfort–holding is not the go-to thing; he’d rather prefer verbal reassurance–perhaps some time for himself.
Touch is such a tender act, and ‘cuddling’ has always managed to make him feel bare–more so than he’d like to admit.
Thus when Dutch Van der Linde hits a new low, the last thing he wants to do is make himself seem more damaged. He has, after all, an estranged affliction with weakness.
So, you find that the trick is to initiate cuddling during his warmest and most relaxed moments–moments where his touchiness would emerge across the divide of your figures–where it would slip from your forearm, to your hand, to the back of your waist.
Though he isn’t necessarily what one would call a “cuddler”–the man’s really not all too averse about it either. Dutch loves sensuality, after all. He sees himself smitten by the idea of pressing a lover into his arms, feeling them lean into him, sway by him.
There’s rarely any silence when you do it, you realize.
Nothing too rambunctious, just passing conversation, perhaps some light reading, maybe a touch here and there…
With you sat between the outlaw’s legs, his arms posed comfortably around your delicate frame.
–if you’re taller than him, expect to have your head rested atop his lap, an idle arm perched across the edge of your abdomen–Dutch’s latest novel nestled only wide enough for both your eyes to see.
He reads aloud, or he reads in time with you, always in sync, always together.
The soft feel of crimson velvet, the cold metal of his buttons, the scent of cigar smoke, vanilla, and pomade. His deep voice, his steady breath. The slight jolt in those proud shoulders when his palm goes up in a habitual gesture.
Sensual as it all is, you can’t help the banter that eases itself into the moment.
Dutch jestingly reprimands you for your wandering focus and yet his lips playfully tickle your neck just the same.
“So much for my wandering focus,”
“Well, we could stop anytime, my dear.” He mumbles with a smirk burning through your skin, “Ain’t no problem in that–”
You huff, desperately holding down a fond smile,“–don’t try and make me say no,”
“Oh, but it seems you’re already saying it,”
He wins, he does.
And you let him.
You always do. Even from the evening onward–when the afternoon light is gone and replaced by the flickering heat of the campfire, musical victory going up in sloshing bottles and blissful song.
He’d gladly oblige you, chuckling as he twirls you into that addicting embrace, your near stumbling form swiftly disappearing behind the flapping lapels of familiar canvas.
“Come here, beautiful.”
There would be laughter outside, the tell-tale ambiance of a gang already drunk on their success.
Your eyes would be shining anew, and your arms would sway in an unbothered delight. You all but prompt him with a playful smile, lips quietly singing the merry tunes that unraveled beyond the world you and Dutch have made for yourselves.
He would watch as you stretch out on the cot just sometime later, eyeing your smile in satisfaction when your limbs go languid after the happiest rendezvous–his gramophone humming along with the rising staccato of your heart.
You’re still catching your breath when he settles beside you, and he lights a cigar as he guides you to press against his side. Dutch is uncharacteristically quiet, but his arm settles over your waist, and your palms wrap around the relaxed stature of his abdomen without further question.
He lets his fingers card through your damp hair, digits moving in innate patterns that all but lull you to sleep.
For a while the air is without sound, just ragged breaths working to move in tandem with one another. But then he speaks, about dreams, about the gang–about “us”, anchoring you a bit tighter towards him. He still smells like smoke and vanilla, and his hands wander aimlessly around whatever part of yours he can hold.
Conversation is an aftercare that he takes to meaningfully.
With the wistful spike of his tone, you imagine him to be staring off at the tent, but his smoldering gaze only meets yours, and those same fingers of his rise to caress your features–as he does whenever space wears thin between you.
“I got a good feeling about this,” Dutch says, knowing that he need not elaborate what he meant–that to you it would always seem to make perfect sense.
“I always do, my dear.”
You say the same without falter, smiling radiantly in a near assertive hush of ‘Me too.’
Dutch takes your lack of hesitance as a blazing promise, blossoming adoration beaming forth from within him.
For once, the words buried under his mouth wither away, and in its wake a proud smile eases over his countenance.
You prop your chin atop the heart of his chest, searching the man’s expression for you know not what–
–though all of that merely dissipates in a yielding pursuit of his lips; movements slow, and passionate and meaningful.
Dutch memorizes the soft curls of your grin against his own.
And a chuckle, deep with tumultuous joy, echoes over your shared gesture; its sound only amplified as he reeled you closer through a growing warmth.
Oh, be it with a cuddle, be it with a kiss–it all feels divine, and it’s a sensation neither of you would trade for the world.
I’ve noticed that my old matchup posts have been getting attention for some reason so I just want to remind everyone that I don’t do match ups, headcanons or fic requests anymore. It's unlikely that I will again. It does say so in my bio but I know some people don’t read that.
Howdy y’all! I realized I’ve never made official rule sheet for my matchups and headcanons but since I’ve been getting more of both I thought I better make one.
Rules for matchup requests
Please include:
Since these matchups are dealing with 18+ characters, please only send a matchup in if you are are 18+
A very short physical description (Hair, eye color, freckles, scars etc.) I don’t use this information too much so brief statements are preferable.
Your gender and sexuality! I would much rather pair you up to who you are attracted to right away than have to edit or add the correct pairing. (If you would like one of each I’m willing to do so, all you have to do is ask.)
Don’t be shy to tell me your hobbies! I will try my best to pull from those that don’t necessarily work for the gang time period such as video games but go ahead and include them. Feel free to get specific with them too! Explain what kind of books you like to read, what draws you to music and as an animal lover what animals you like.
Please give me some of your personality traits! This is the bread and butter for me to be able to pair you up.
These are to pair you up with in a romantically way so if you would like to include your love languages, what kind of partner you are, and what you look for in your relationships that would be helpful for your matchup. (I’ll also do platonic matchups but unless stated I will assume you want a romantic matchup.)
Go ahead and send me those OC descriptions too! I love seeing the type of people you’ve all created for this universe!
Don’t worry about the length of your matchups! It’s you/ the OC you created, it’s okay to have a lot to say! Send multiple messages if you need to!
If there’s any characters you don’t want to be paired with let me know. (list below shows those I will and will not pair you up with)
Please don’t bother including:
1. Horoscopes/star signs, Harry Potter houses, any personality type( INFP, ENTJ, etc.) Honestly I just don’t know enough about these to be able to affectively include them in your matchup.
2. Please don’t just put M or F. This tells me nothing other than your genitals and I’m fine not knowing about them. Please state your gender and put your pronouns instead!
Characters I use for matchups
Arthur Morgan
John Marston
Dutch van der Linde
Hosea Matthews
Susan Grimsaw
Javier Escuella
Charles Smith
Lenny Summers
Molly O’Shea
Sean MacGuire
Josiah Trelawny
Abigail Roberts
Sadie Adler
Tilly Jackson
Mary-Beth Gaskill
Karen Jones
Kieran Duffy
Albert Mason
Eagle Flies
Hercule Fontaine
Beau Gray
Mary Linton
Hamish Sinclair
Francis Sinclair
Lyndon Monroe
Black Belle
Characters I won’t use for matchups
Bill Williamson
Micah Bell
Uncle, Pearson, Swanson, Strauss ( Unless y’all want me to add these four but Micah and Bill aren’t ever going to be added)
Rules for Headcanons
For Reader/Significant Others: I will do mlm, wlw, and gender neutral reader and significant other situations. Based on my own sexuality and gender identity it is easier for me to do those headcanons. I’m not going to do any women reader/significant other with a guy character, I feel there’s plenty of that content already anyways. If you are looking for strictly straight women reader content I can direct you to some other writers more comfortable writing that.
For in game characters: I will do just about any and every in game relationship both canonical or not! I’m more comfortable writing the in game men and women romantic relationships, so for example if you want headcanons about John and Abigail, I’ll definitely do that. I will not write anything about Micah or Bill, and this especially includes anything romantic.
I don’t like writing/won’t write any content that involves homophobia, transphobia, jealousy, racism, rape or anything else similar. (This is why I won’t do anything about Micah or Bill, even if it’s just simple headcanons)
I’m open to writing NSFW headcanons but please again be 18+ if you send in the request and I will most likely place the headcanon in a keep reading format.
Please don’t take any offense if I don’t end out doing your headcanon request. It isn’t because I think it’s a dumb idea or anything like that but more that I might not have enough to say about that specific headcanon. To balance doing headcanons and matchups I have to pick and choose a little to make sure I’m able to complete both.
Often because of writers block, headcanons take me a while. I appreciate y’alls patience and never want to half ass any requests.
Can I have a Red Dead matchup? I’m a straight girl with long brown hair and brown eyes. I’m 5’5”-5’6.” My friends describe me as dramatic, funny, and kind, and I’m always willing to assist or talk with them if they need help. My favorite things to do are read, write, play video games, watch movies, and play with my pets. I want to write books in the future. The ideal way for me to start a relationship is to become friends, then have it slowly lead up to less platonic and more romantic feelings.
Hello, yes you sure can have one!
I ship you with Josiah Trelawny!
Josiah had left the camp for almost 6 months and when he returned he was pleasantly surprised to see a few new faces. He always made a grand entry one or the other way but when his eyes landed on you he knew instantly that he HAD to leave a good impression.
He doesn’t take things too far too quickly though, he’s a gentleman through and through! He’ll make polite conversation, ask you about that book you were reading earlier. If it’s something he knows, he’ll tell you his opinions and if he didn’t know it, he’ll listen to every word you have to say.
While he makes no secret of his feelings and his desire to get closer to you he would never overstep his boundaries. He keeps a polite distance and waits for you to come to him. Josiah is an experienced man, he knows how to enchant and woo a woman. But he’s not only interested in you because he finds you beautiful! Whenever you’re out of camp, he talks to the other members about you. Trying to get as much information as he can and what he hears warms his heart.
You are loved and admired by almost all the people there, not many had bad things to say about you. They mentioned how you are only of the most trustworthy persons around, never spilling any secrets. Tilly and Mary-Beth gush about your kindness, something that just seems to come naturally to you. Others tell Josiah how funny you are and how much you brighten everyone’s day just by telling a few jokes or funny stories.
While he appreciates all that they told him it wasn’t anything new.
He watches you around camp, sitting by yourself and writing in your notebook. You’re so focused on your task that you barely even register people coming up to you, but when they start talking to you, asking for a favor or for your help you will always get up in a heartbeat. Abandoning your writing in a second and with a smile on your lips.
His heart always skipped a beat when you smiled, it didn’t even have to be directed at him. Of course, he enjoyed it, even more, when the smile was gifted to him.
The two of you spend more and more time together, whenever he was at camp, your friendship growing deeper day by day. He sometimes left for a few days, sometimes even weeks but he always made sure to bring you something. Mostly books that he had read on the way and thought that you would enjoy as well. He leaves a commentary at the end of every book, sharing his thoughts on the topic and some sort of review. He always starts them with “My dearest friend Y/N,...”
Until one day when he was about to start writing his commentary, it hit him that you weren’t just friends anymore. He loved you. The notion surprised him even though he always knew that he was sweet on you, but he never dared thinking the emotion would evolve so drastically. He scratched through the words he wrote and corrected himself.
The next time he was in camp he searched for you to present his gifts and the book with the commentary turned love letter to you, but he couldn’t find you anywhere! After leaving the book and some flowers on your cot he made his way out of camp again. His heart was pounding as if he was a boy of 18 again, about to confess to a girl for the first time. Quite ridiculous!
That night he was invited to a theatre opening, which originally he planned on bringing you along. After about an hour of mingling and shallow conversation, he saw a familiar silhouette approaching him in the corner of his eyes. It was you, marching in his direction with a stern expression your face, followed by three servants calling out to her “Miss please, you don’t have an invitation” “I told you I’m here with Mr. Trelawny!” “MISS PLEASE”
The whole situation was hilarious to Josiah and he couldn’t help chuckling when you finally reached him. He could see why they wouldn’t believe you, you certainly didn’t look like you were about to attend a dinner party in your dirty working clothes.
“Well well well this little cowgirl here seems to be lost?” he said while taking your hand to place a kiss on the palm of it. Your face softened when you looked up at him. “Not at all. I’m exactly where I want to be” you whispered as you closed the distance between your bodies, kissing him in front of the eyes of all the guests.
“Oh my Y/N...We’re going to be the talk of the town I’m afraid”
“You know I like the drama, and don’t worry I brought a dress,” you said with a wink.
He watched as the servants led you away to change clothes as the words of the house owner reached his ears. “What a beauty Josiah, you are a lucky man.”
