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Pronouns are She/Him

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My tags are ; #whyareyouhere66 , #whyareyouhere66randomshit , #66-recs&replies and #carson’s specials [celebration tag]

Spot Conlon x GN !Soulmate! Reader 

“I sleep so I can see you, 

Cause I hate to wait so long” 

[Sailor Song, Gigi Perez, 2025]

CW: soulmate au, gn reader, loosely edited. I wrote part 1 a whopping 3 years ago so my writing style has changed and may not match super well. I also tried to go back to part 1 and make it more aesthetic looking but uhhh tumblr hates me and wouldnt let me so 💞

part 1

x

Many might say a prayer spoken to an empty sky is the one most unheard. 

Though it’s intriguing to wonder if maybe the prayer spoken to a crowded sky is truly the one ignored. 

Y/n lays awake once more, their stiff mattress doing little to settle their restlessness.  Hands folded over one another, resting on their chest, they stare holes into the familiar ceiling above.

 It had been another demanding day at the bakery, met with another night alone. Their impatience was growing, their affirmations of “waiting will pay off” starting to feel dull. Instead, their mind swims with doubt. 

Y/n’s eyes trail away from the ceiling, and they peek out the window, finding the deep navy sky. 

Maybe the reason they were yet to find their soulmate was because so many others were in the same boat- the universe can only join so many people’s paths at once. It’s inevitable that some are bound to wait at the back of the line, right?

The thought lingers in their mind for a moment. It’s possible, it makes sense. Yet a pout still follows, and Y/n cant help but bitterly think that if the universe cant handle playing Cupid, then it shouldn’t have taken on the job. 

Realizing how petty that must sound, the baker sighs once more and rolls onto their side, hollow bones sinking into the mattress. 

“I hope you find me soon.” They mutter, before falling into a miserable sleep.

xx

The bakery is rather slow, today. A stark comparison to the rattling, bustling crowd from just a few days prior- today it seems only a few of the regulars and some curious souls have stopped by, as well as a few window shoppers peeking in through the glass. 

Y/n leans on the counter, elbow pressed to the surface and chin digging into their palm. To their left, a display of desserts sweetens up the room- colorful frosting standing out against the brown of the wood trim and the deep, flowery wallpaper. Behind them, shelves on shelves of bread loaves and pastries that couldn’t fit into the glass display. To their right, the register, only opened a handful of times since opening this morning.

Faintly, they hear the shouts of a newsboy outside, waving his paper stack in the air to try and entice the people who pass by the corner that he occupies. In just a couple of hours, when he’s sold through his heavy stack, he’ll run on back to the doc just a few blocks down, just like clockwork.

Boredom creeps up Y/n’s spine, eating at them. It’s the fifth time this week that they’ve been put at the counter, and it’s the 3rd time this week that barely anyone has actually come in. Not that they would prefer to be overwhelmed by orders- but a steady stream of people would be much better than this. 

Staring at the door, they imagine if their soulmate were to walk in right now. 

A hopeless daydream, but one they feed into anyways. Maybe their soulmate would have a newspaper under their arm, bought off the kid on the corner, and a couple extra dollars they’re willing to spend. Perhaps they would smile brightly at the sight of Y/n- knowing immediately, as if they walked into the bakery with the sole intention of finding them.

But alas, the door remains closed, and there’s no beautiful stranger in sight to come and sweep Y/n off their feet. With a sigh, Y/n presses further into their palm. This is getting ridiculous.

xx

The yearning has spread into their dreams.

Amidst scrambled visions, they feel the phantom warmth of what they can only imagine is a lover’s touch. It holds them closely, yet every time they turn, Y/n is greeted only by a blurry face. 

When they awake, they’re cold again- realizing that once again they were fooled by their own brain. 

At first, Y/n was bitter. What, they were being mocked now? Years alone only to be taunted in their own dreams- like dangling the carrot in front of their face, just to pull it away in a flash.

But now, they’ve begun to seek it out. What once felt like a cruel tease now feels like the best they’re gonna get. When their head hits the pillow- they anticipate the blooming coziness that fills their chest only in dreams. 

Sometimes they get too hopeful, and once again the carrot is tugged away from them; not by waking up, instead by falling into a sleep with no trace of their lover. Those nights, Y/n wakes up disappointed. 

At work, when neck deep in dough and frosting, they imagine dreaming of their soulmate once more. Only for a moment though- as they’ve become paranoid of jinxing it. Just a quick daydream was all Y/n would allow for themself.

Sometimes they dream of conversations with their lover, words that they don’t remember in the morning. Other times, they hug each other close, walk hand in hand and press kisses to each others knuckles. It’s these touches that Y/n still feels lingering when they awake, only to be gone again by noon.

xx

“Have a wonderful day, ma’am.” Y/n says through an exaggerated, sweet smile. Watching the woman disappear through the entryway, the door bell ringing quietly, they immediately slump against the countertop.  

Even with an empty shop and a soon-to-be-setting sun, the h/c still has another hour to go before being released. 

Slinking away from the display case, Y/n slips into the back kitchen, greeted by the strong smell of sweets. Although the day is winding down, the few on kitchen duty are still bustling about, preparing for the opening shift tomorrow. 

Filled with cooking equipment, shelves of spices and sugars, the tan walls create a coziness to the kitchen that makes it much more bearable when forced to work in it for hours on end. 

“Hello, y/n.” One of the baker girls greets them, her flour covered hands clearly sore from hours of work. Smiling weakly, y/n moves to her work station, carefully avoiding the racks of bread and cakes. 

“Hello, how is the bread going?”

The girl, who goes by Sara, settles a blob of dough into a bread pan. “As well as it can be,” she jokes, making room for y/n as they lean onto the sleek table. 

Y/n considers Sara to be a friend, so they feel no need to hide the drained look in their eyes. 

“Would you like any help with anything?” They ask politely, to which the girl nods and gestures towards the racks of sweets by the wall. 

“Would you mind helping me stock the last shelves?” They nod at Sara’s request, pushing up the hem of their sleeves in preparation.

Just as y/n is about to grab the first rack, the familiar ding of the door bell faintly echoes from the front. A groan slips out before they can help it, making Sara giggle softly. 

“I suppose I have to attend to that.” They mutter, stepping away from the baking station and dusting off any loose flour that may have landed on their clothes. 

As they reach the front counter, they are immediately greeted by a whole herd of what appears to be the local news boys. 

Freezing in the doorway, they watch the bustling crowd of kids and teens, eyes darting to where their poor coworker stands, rushing to scribble down all their orders. 

Unfortunately for Y/n, the coworker spots them and with the spin of his heel, gestures for them to take his spot. Ugh, of course.

Catching the last of the orders, the baker begins to gently place at least a dozen of their cheapest cookies and little cakes into bags- narrowly avoiding the eager hands of the youngest newsies as they reach for the paper bags of sweets. 

Just within ear shot, they hear a couple of older boys proudly chatting amongst themselves. 

“Thanks for this, Spot, really.”

“Yeah, well, after the sales we’ve been getting, I think we deserve ourselves a celebration!” 

That quickly explains why the herd of newsies had suddenly flocked to the bakery, which is usually rather slow this close to closing. The boys’ thick New York accents lace their voices, and the one boy- Spot, was it?- seems to be the leader of the group.  Y/n’s not sure what about his voice seems to have caught their attention, but when they hear it they feel a line of goosebumps trail their shoulder. Strange.

After passing the sweets to the rowdy bunch in front of the counter, the group begins to file out back into the lively Brooklyn streets. All except for one.

Surely older than the rest, that whom Y/n assumes is Spot remains. Ushering the group through the door, he now triumphantly approaches the counter with a bag of change jingling in his hand.

Neither of them meet eyes- y/n too busy ringing up the large order, him too busy sorting his money. 

“Sorry for all the ruckus, honey, it’s a big day for Brooklyn.” He boasts. 

The trail of goosebumps spreads, and Y/n has no clue why until finally, they look up from the register.

His eyes are blue. They freeze when they see them, and he visibly stiffens.

It’s silent for a moment, but they each feel like noise is bursting in their ears, blossoming like waves in their chest. For a second, Y/n is sure they’ve gone crazy. Have they gotten so desperate that they’re now tricking themself into thinking everyone is their soulmate?

But, something sparks in their gut- the feeling that everyone has described. A feeling that if their skin were to touch his right now, a new star would be born into the sky. 

He’s staring at them like he’s just discovered something unbelievable. Something new has lit in his eyes- and Y/n knows he knows. His triumphant smile drops for a second, only to form again with a new form of excitement. 

Silence, electric silence for just a moment.

“Spot Conlon.” Is the first thing that slips out of his mouth- looking like an idiot mumbling nothing but his name. It sends a rush as warm as spring through Y/n- realizing now that they finally know the name of their soulmate.

“Y/n L/n.” They stupidly murmur back, eyes flickering down to where his fingers slowly inch towards theres, as if he’s cautious and impatient all the same. 

Soon, his hand envelopes theirs, bringing it up from the counter, tangling their fingers. Heat blooms everywhere that their skin touches each other, and Spot’s hand almost seems to glow a soft orange, as if he were pressing his hand to the shell of a light bulb. 

“Oh my god.” Y/n whispers, voice lightly shaking. Their dreams came flooding back to them, fitting Spot’s face into every missing frame. 

Without thinking, they slip out from behind the counter, never letting their hand leave his. They shuffle in front of him, taking him in with their eyes, him doing the same to them. For a moment they almost start jumping for joy, but Spot’s long-awaited presence makes it hard to anything but touch, look. 

Spot, on the other hand, feels his heart beating out of his chest. Their hand in his almost makes him drop to his knees, just to crawl to their feet and bury his nose into their waist. In fact, it surprises him that his feet are still in contact with the tile floor.

“Y/n.” He repeats slowly, letting the name roll off his tongue, make itself comfortable in the roof of his mouth. Hearing him say it, Y/n smiles giddily. 

They found him.

Their gaze flickers down to their intertwined hands. Gently, as if he’ll wash away at any moment, they slide both their palms up to his biceps- seeing how it feels to finally hold him. Their thumbs press into the swell of his muscle, sliding across the fabric of his shirt, just to move to his shoulders. Exploring, savoring. One finger glides over his suspender strap, memorizing how the red fabric feels under their fingertips.

Warm palms find their hips- he’s gentle at first, but with the joyful beating in his chest, he more firmly rubs his hands over their sides, feeling their torso for the first time. 

“You’re real.” 

It comes out a whisper, but still receives a breathy chuckle in return. 

“You’re here.”

Dragging their hands over his shoulders and chest, smile wide, Y/n finally brings their gaze to meet Spot’s. Blue eyes, a gentle nose- they weren’t sure what they were expecting, but this exceeds anything they could’ve asked for. But maybe that’s the excitement talking, the utter disbelief.

The pair’s feet shuffle closer together, each of them entranced with the other. 

Spot has so many things to say, yet nothing fits right. So, he utters their name again- this time more surely.

“Y/n.” He grins, accent thick, curling around the syllables nicely.

“Spot.” Y/n mumbles in return, the name clicking perfectly. 

A knocking at the window interrupts the charged air. 

“Hey, Spot! Quit flirting, will ya?”

The name doesn’t sound the same when coming from a newsie, scolding the boy.

And, it’s certainly not enough to fully break the trance. Spot’s eyes don’t flicker towards the glass for many more moments, too caught up in Y/n’s pull; in their smell filling his nose and their fingers sliding across his collar. 

When he does finally glance away, he’s met with the many stares of newsies piled against the window, nosy and impatient. He swallows thickly, and Y/n’s gaze follows, already dreading the loss of his warmth. 

Spot turns back to them, pulling them closer. 

“I’ll come back tomorrow- don’t you go anywhere, sweetheart.” He whispers, squeezing their hips gently, promise lingering in his touch. Y/n nods eagerly.

“I won’t, and you better not either.” 

Spot shakes his head, cheeks twinged a rare pink. He starts to step back towards the door- only to glance back at the counter.

“How much do I owe, sweetheart” He asks. Y/n looks back at the register- having completely forgot about the check.  They don’t even remember if they rung up the total, or if they got distracted before they were able to do so.

“Uh…” they trail off, trying to think but thoughts cutting short. Another knock to the window.

As much as y/n doesn’t want spot to leave just yet, they know his group is waiting on him- and it seems hes thinking the same thing. He would make the newsies wait if Y/n asked- but they don’t, instead glancing at the register once more before looking back.

“Pay me tomorrow.” They say. Spot’s lips curl into yet another grin, which y/n hopes to never forget, before nodding.

“You have my word.” He says, slowly slipping away from their embrace. Hes disappointed to leave, having to let go so soon after finally finding them. But, he’ll be back tomorrow- maybe even the day after that. So he slowly slinks back to the door, eyes never leaving them until his feet are carrying him over the sidewalk, through the crowd of newsies that flock to his feet, spitting out questions and suggestive remarks. He ignores them all, walking from cloud nine all the way back to the crowded newsies house.

Y/n watches him go, taking a second to process. They can still feel where his hands rested mere seconds ago, this time not having to worry that the lingering touches will disappear with the rising sun. Instead, they bask in his air, accompanied by the rise of dusk. 

For once, they didn’t start their night alone.

Yes, I was starting to notice that as well. I tried to answer the ones with blogs that hadn’t been tagged yet, though my inbox is getting filled with them.

The point still stands; donate if you are able to help families in need, especially as issues in Gaza continue. I’m unable to donate so I reblogged posts with gofundme links in an effort to do my part- though I likely won’t respond to many more because of the spam

I’m holding on to hope, one day at a time—and today, I’m asking for your support. My family is living through a reality no one should have to face, and I’m doing my best to keep our voices heard.

📌 Please take a second to check out my pinned post.

🔄 Sharing it can help it reach someone who might be able to help.

🤍 If you’re able to give even a little, your generosity could ease a heavy burden.

Your support, your time, your care—it all matters more than you know.

With love and deep appreciation,

@helpjehadddd

I hope you're doing well. 🌿

Could you help me amplify my family's story and bring awareness to our struggle? 🙏🏻

💬 Please reblog my pinned post or consider donating just $5—your support could truly make a difference in saving lives amidst war and hardship.

Your kindness and voice matter more than you know. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🤍🌿

🕊️ @mosabsdr | Every share counts. 💫

I hope you’re all doing well. 🌿

I need your help to share my family's story and raise awareness about our struggle. Every voice counts, and your support means the world. 🙏

💬 Please reblog my pinned post or, if you're able, consider donating just $5—it could be life-changing for those facing unimaginable hardship.

Your kindness and solidarity make a real difference. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🤍✨

@aboodfmly

I hope you're doing well. Today, I’m reaching out with a heartfelt request. My family is going through an incredibly difficult time, and I need your help to make our story heard.

🔄 A simple reblog of my pinned post can spread awareness.

💖 A small $5 donation could bring hope where it’s desperately needed.

@nasr-daher

Even the smallest act of kindness can create ripples of change. Your support means the world—thank you for standing with us! 🙏✨

I’m reaching out with a quiet hope in my heart. These days are heavy, and my family is living through a reality filled with uncertainty—but I’m still here, doing my best to hold on and keep going.

If you have a moment, please check out my pinned post.

A simple share could help it reach someone who might be able to make a difference.

If you’re able to give, even the smallest kindness can bring light into the darkest places.

Your time, your voice, your compassion — it all matters more than you know.

With deep gratitude,

@nadinfamily

I know you probably see a lot online, but if you could take just a moment… I’d be so grateful.

💫 A reblog of my pinned post could help our story reach someone who cares.

🌿 And if you’re in a place to give, even a small donation could bring comfort to my daughter and help us feel safe again.

@sajagz, thank you for listening.

Even gentle support creates strength.

From one heart to another — thank you 🤍

I’m a survivor from Gaza, holding on to hope in a world that has fallen apart around me. 💔

The life I once knew — my home, my family, my sense of safety — has been shattered by war. Today, I live among the ruins, trying to find a path forward through the rubble and heartbreak. 🏚

Every moment is a battle against fear and uncertainty. What was once ordinary — a safe place to sleep, a future to dream of — now feels like a distant memory. 🕊️

I share my story not to seek pity, but to keep hope alive — to believe that even in the darkest places, kindness can still find a way. 🤍

If my story touches your heart, please consider sharing it or offering support. Every voice, every act of care, brings me one step closer to safety. ✨

Thank you for taking the time to listen. 🙏

Post Link

💚💚

I'm Yousef from Gaza, a father of two boys and a girl.

I'm sending you a message saying I need a donation today. It's essential to buy milk, diapers, medicine, food, and drinks for my children.

We're currently experiencing a severe blockade and famine, and these things are very expensive.

Please, asking for help is not easy.

I'm asking for help and I'm ashamed. A small donation will save my daughters from death, cold, and hunger.

Please donate to help my children from death and war, and help me spread my story.

I hope you’re all doing well. 🌿

I need your help to share my family's story and raise awareness about our struggle. Every voice counts, and your support means the world. 🙏

💬 Please reblog my pinned post or, if you're able, consider donating just $5—it could be life-changing for those facing unimaginable hardship.

Your kindness and solidarity make a real difference. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🤍✨

@derawi1994

I hope you're doing well. 🌿

Could you help me amplify my family's story and bring awareness to our struggle? 🙏🏻

💬 Please reblog my pinned post or consider donating just $5—your support could truly make a difference in saving lives amidst war and hardship.

Your kindness and voice matter more than you know. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🤍🌿

🕊️ @mosabsdr | Every share counts. 💫