#I knew I shouldn’t have gone out this week 😭💔

[toji-bunny-girl]

honestly what a great week I had 😄 I just got stalked, twisted my ankle, pulled something in my arm and now I can barely move my hand, my neck is neverendingly sore and I got a concussion

[jackles010378]

It's been a while since I've actually had the inspiration to sit down and write a fic out in full, so I would like to thank @k-slla above post for the inspiration, and I would also like to apologise in advance because it's a sad one 😭 sorry guys but as soon as I heard the song it made me think of Dean 💚 💔

In this shirt

In the quiet town of Lawrence, where the autumn leaves whispered tales of the past, there lived a girl named Y/N. She was known for her vibrant smile and the way her laughter could light up the darkest of rooms. But that was before tragedy struck, before she lost Dean Winchester, the love of her life.

Dean, with his daring spirit and heart of gold, had been more than just a partner to Y/N. He was her confidant, her protector, and the one who knew her soul as if it were his own. His sudden departure left a void in her life that seemed impossible to fill.

As days turned into weeks, Y/N found herself enveloped in a shroud of Dean’s memories. His shirts, which still carried the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the smell of motor oil and leather, became her solace. Wearing them was like being wrapped in an embrace, a cocoon of warmth and familiarity, but also a reminder of the love they shared.

"I am lost in our rainbow

Now our rainbow has gone

Overcast by your shadow

As our worlds move on

In this shirt, I can be you

To be near you for a while

In this shirt, I can be you

To be near you for a while"

Each shirt told a story—a story of adventures on the open road, of monsters faced and battles won, of quiet evenings under the stars. They were a testament to a life lived fiercely and with passion. And so, Y/N wore them like armor, a way to keep Dean close and to feel the courage he always inspired in her.

In the soft fabric, she found strength. With every thread, she felt connected to Dean, as if he were there, guiding her through the pain. The shirts were more than just clothing; they were a bridge between two hearts, a way for Y/N to hold on to the love that death could not diminish.

Even though the world kept turning and the seasons changed, Y/N’s love for Dean remained, woven into the very fibers of the shirts she cherished. In her heart, she knew that as long as she held on to them, to the memories and the love they represented, Dean Winchester would never truly be gone.

One crisp autumn morning, as Y/N reached into her closet to pull out one of Dean’s old flannel shirts, her fingers brushed against something unexpected. The fabric felt different—slightly thicker, as if there was a secret stitched within its layers. Curiosity piqued, she held the shirt up to the light, examining it closely.

There, hidden near the hem, was a small pocket—a pocket that shouldn’t have been there. Y/N’s heart raced as she carefully unthreaded the stitches, revealing a folded piece of paper. It was yellowed with age, and the ink had faded, but the words were still legible.

The message was short, written in Dean’s unmistakable scrawl:

“Y/N, my love, if you’re reading this, it means I’m gone. But don’t mourn for me. Remember the laughter, the road trips, and the way we fought side by side. You were my anchor, my reason to keep fighting. Wear this shirt when you need courage, and know that I’m right there with you. Always. I love you sweetheart, Dean x”

Tears blurred Y/N’s vision as she clutched the note to her chest. Dean had left her a piece of his soul, a whispered promise that transcended death. She folded the paper carefully and placed it back in the hidden pocket, then put the shirt on. It felt like a warm embrace, as if Dean’s arms were still around her.

"I did send you a note

On the wind for to read

Our names there together

Must have fallen like a seed

To the depths of the soil

Buried deep in the ground

On the wind, I could hear you

Call my name, held the sounds

I am lost

I am lost, in our rainbow

Now our rainbow has gone

I am lost, in our rainbow

Now our rainbow has gone

I am lost"

From that day on, Y/N wore the shirt more often. She wore it when she faced monsters—both literal and metaphorical. She wore it during thunderstorms, when the world seemed too dark. And every time she did, she felt Dean’s presence, urging her forward.

The hidden message became her talisman, a reminder that love could bridge even the gap between life and death. Y/N knew that Dean was still with her, woven into the very fabric of her existence. And as she walked through life, wearing his shirts, she carried their love like a flame—a flame that would never be extinguished, no matter how fierce the winds of fate blew.

And so, Y/N continued to wear Dean’s shirts, not just for comfort but as a testament to their love story—one that defied the boundaries of time and space. In those hidden pockets, she found solace, hope, and the unwavering belief that love could endure, even when the world tried to tear it apart.

TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck @angelbabyyy99

This song came up on some random playlist I had playing, and something about it made me so emotional..

I feel like I'm about to burst to tears and I don't know why..😭