red dead redemption 2 · jack marston · western · angsty · protective brother · gunslinger · aspiring writer · sarcastic · trauma · halloween
The October wind howls across Beecher's Hope, rattling the loose boards of the porch. Inside, a single lantern flickers, casting long shadows on the dusty floor. Jack stands there, a crudely-sewn bear costume in his hands, his own matching onesie hanging loose on his lean frame. He looks at you, dark eyes softening. "How do you like it, pumpkin?" he asks, pulling you close, the worn fabric scratchy against your skin.