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π†π”π€π‘πƒπˆππ† 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄, patrick feely. by katiewilmot
katiewilmot
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in which cordelia gibson can't stop herself from getting entangled with her childhood best-friend patrick feely. ... patrick feely x fem!oc boys of tommen series
π‚π‘πšπ¬π’π§π  𝟏𝟏 by Babydollyz3
Babydollyz3
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❝ SOMETIMES THE PAST REFUSES TO LET YOU GO. ❞ β€’ ΰ­¨πŸ’Œΰ­§ 𝐈𝐍 π–π‡πˆπ‚π‡ . . . Delilah Allen and Asher Young were everything to each other-two kids from neighboring families, inseparable in shared gardens, inside jokes, and quiet understanding. They were never a couple, but it was always heading there... until the night Caoimhe Young died. The tragedy shattered their town. Families turned on each other, old friends disappeared, and a silence full of fury and secrets fell between the Allens and the Youngs. Delilah stopped speaking, stopped trusting, stopped existing in the world she once loved-except for her stepbrother Gibsie, the one person who keeps her grounded. Asher Young knows the truth about that night, a truth no one else can prove. Outwardly, he plays the cold, distant role expected of him. But behind closed doors, he watches over Delilah, haunted by the past and the bond they still share. Oc x Oc! (COMPLETE) ✦ fleeting glances . forbidden proximity . secrets and loyalty .
𝐖𝐒π₯𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 by Babydollyz3
Babydollyz3
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❝ I SEE HER PAIN IN MINE AND IT HURTS SO MUCH. ❞ β€’ ΰ­¨πŸ’Œΰ­§ 𝐈𝐍 π–π‡πˆπ‚π‡ . . . Ophelia Murphy has perfected the art of being invisible. The quiet girl at Tommen, she's learned to survive her mother's sharp words, her father's absence, and the constant sting of classmates who see her as an easy target. Books and silence are her only refuge, though even those can't quiet the storm she carries in her chest. Tadgh Lynch has a new surname on his school jacket and a new bed in the Kavanagh household, but nothing inside him feels new. At seventeen, he's still carrying the weight of the house he grew up in, a house that left him fractured, haunted, and stuck in a world where he never got the chance to grow up. Everyone around him seems to have moved forward. Tadgh can't. One reckless night changes everything. Dragged to a party she doesn't want to be at, Ophelia crosses paths with Tadgh-two people who shouldn't have noticed each other, but do. He sees past her silence. She sees the boy behind the walls he never lets anyone near. What begins as an unexpected encounter turns into something neither of them were looking for: a fragile connection strong enough to pull them out of the shadows. But with their pasts pressing hard against them, love might not be the easy part-surviving it might.
π’π€π•πˆππ† πŸ– by _jenxkiss
_jenxkiss
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Brendan Clearly. He was the lad I liked since I was barely out of pigtails, the one who never slagged me off when the rest of the boys thought it was gas. He was different. Always smiling, always asking me if I'd eaten, like some little mammy trapped in a seventeen-year-old fella's body. It sounds stupid, but those tiny things kept me going. And then I went and wrecked it. Not just with him-no, I managed to shatter it with all of them. My friends, the ones who made the halls feel less lonely, the ones who kept me tethered here when the world felt too heavy. Gone. Because of me. Just a mistake, that's all it was, but a mistake that cost me everything. And now when I see him across the yard, laughing with the others, it's like a knife. He doesn't even look my way. And I deserve that, don't I? *** Caoimhe Kavanagh. Once upon a time she was my best mate. The kind of girl you'd sit on a wall with for hours, talking about nothing and everything. She was soft, kind, never the type to go looking for trouble. But now? I hardly recognise her. She's gone cold, sharp, always hanging 'round with that crowd-the type of people you know are only bad news. Ciggies tucked in their sleeves, mouths full of poison. And she's right there in the middle of it, like she belongs to them now. Part of me wants to write her off, tell myself she's not the Caoimhe I knew. That girl's dead and gone. But... I can't. I remember too much. The way she used to laugh, the way she'd defend you even when you were being a gobshite, the way she cared more than she ever let on. That's still inside her, I swear it is. I don't care how hard she tries to hide behind the mask she's wearing now-I know my friend is in there somewhere. And I'll drag her back if I have to. Because she's worth it.
π“π‘π”π’π“πˆππ† πŸ• by _jenxkiss
_jenxkiss
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Finn Gibson. Number seven on the rugby team. A gentleman, proper like. Always opening doors and saying things like "after you" and "you alright there?" in this soft voice that somehow makes you feel seen. He's funny too - not the show-off type of funny, more the kind where you're halfway through laughing before you realise it was even a joke. Real clever wit, quiet like. It's not fair, honestly. And he drums, like actually properly drums, not just tapping out rhythms on the school desk like every other lad in Tommen. He's in a band and all. Do I like him? Yeah. I like him loads. More than I should. But this isn't that kind of story. I come from a house where everything's heavy. Where things crack and break and no one says sorry. Where nice things don't last, and if you want something - really want something - it gets used against you. You don't let your heart out in a place like mine. You learn to nod and keep quiet and do what Da says, even when you hate it, even when it's wrong. That's just how it is. So when Finn looks at me like I matter - really, properly matter - I want to believe it. I want to tell him I think about him when I fall asleep. So yeah. I like Finn Gibson. But liking someone like him... it feels like trying to hold light in your hand. Beautiful. Impossible. *** Mina O'Neill. Jesus, I don't even know where to start with her. She's the most beautiful human being I've ever seen in my life, and I mean that with my whole chest. She moves like she doesn't even touch the ground. A ballerina, and not the stuck-up kind either. She's always working, always rehearsing, and when she talks about dance, it's like watching someone light up from the inside. And me? I'm just... me. Watching her from the side of things. Hoping. I think she knows. I know she knows. She's not daft. But there's something holding her back. I don't know what. Maybe it's me. Maybe it's something in her life I don't see. But I'm not giving up.
π€πƒπƒπˆπ‚π“πˆππ† πŸ” by _jenxkiss
_jenxkiss
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Conor Kavanagh. The heartthrob of Tommen College. The biggest playboy in the school - cocky smirk, rugby jersey practically sewn onto him, always with a smart comment and that maddening wink. He's friendly, charming, flirty as hell. The kind of lad who'd carry your bag for you and somehow make it seem like your idea. But don't let that fool you - he's trouble. All sharp jawlines and swagger. And somehow, he's decided I'm his next bloody charity case. I hate it. I hate how he shows up when I don't ask, how he looks at me like I'm breakable. I don't need saving - I've got it sorted. The drink, the pills, the temper - all of it. My mess, not his. And every time I tell him to back off, to leave me be, he just gets closer, like I'm speaking in code. I don't need his pity or his perfect face. I don't need him. So why does part of me keep hoping he'll show up again tomorrow? *** Sinead Biggs. The reigning queen of Tommen. Sharp-tongued, sharp-eyed, and terrifying in heels. Everyone thinks she's just Cath's little sister - until she opens her gob and makes half the school cry before lunch. She walks those halls like she owns them, and honestly? She kind of does. The lads are scared of her. The girls want to be her. And me? I'm hopelessly, pathetically into her. Everyone knows it. My mates won't shut up about it. Even when she's tearing strips off me with that mouth of hers, I'm there grinning like a gobshite. Because deep down, I remember. I remember when we used to be best friends. When she used to laugh like a lunatic at my stupid jokes, when her hand would brush mine and neither of us would move away. But then came Owen Rice - the prick. Then came that night. The accident. The hospital. And when she came back, she wasn't the same. She'd built up walls with barbed wire. She'd become someone colder, louder, crueler. But I still see her. The girl I knew. And every once in a while, when no one's looking, I think she sees me too.
π‡πŽπŽπŠπˆππ† 𝟏𝟐 by _jenxkiss
_jenxkiss
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Aidan Feely. One of the most mysterious lads I've ever come across. He's got this quiet, brooding energy, like he's always a step removed from the chaos around him. Tall and lean, with that messy, dark hair that always seems perfectly tousled, as if he's just rolled out of bed and still somehow looks better than half the school. His green eyes - God, those eyes - sharp and intense, like he can see straight through you. I know boys are meant to be handsome, rugged, all that, but Aidan is just... beautiful. Long, dark lashes that half the girls in school would kill for, and a jawline that looks like it was carved from marble. He never says more than he has to, rarely smiles, and when he does, it's this rare, fleeting thing that makes my heart skip a beat. And I'm falling. Hard. But there's a problem. A massive one. I have a boyfriend. And he's nothing like Aidan. *** Sophie Quinn. The girl I've been losing my mind over for the past year. She's this whirlwind of chaos and laughter, the type of girl who lights up a room just by walking into it. She's got that wild, curly hair that never quite does what it's told, a laugh that echoes around the halls, and these eyes - bright and full of life - that catch the light in the best possible way. But here's the kicker - she has a boyfriend. Some tosser who doesn't deserve her. I see him around, loud and arrogant, one of those lads who thinks the world owes him something just because he can kick a ball straight. And it grates at me. I catch him throwing his arm around her, whispering in her ear, and it takes everything in me not to pull him off and tell him to keep his hands to himself. Not that I'd ever say it out loud, but I want her. More than I should. And I know she's starting to notice. The way I lean in a bit closer when she talks, the way my gaze lingers when she brushes past me. She's catching on, I can feel it. And I don't care about her boyfriend, not even a little. Because in the end, I'm going to have her.
π‹πŽπ•πˆππ† πŸπŸ‘ by _jenxkiss
_jenxkiss
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Rory Kavanagh. The best rugby player Tommen has ever seen-well, besides his da, obviously. Johnny Kavanagh. The Johnny Kavanagh. Our parents are basically joint at the hip, best mates since they were kids. And naturally, me and Rory just... became mates too. That's the deal. That's what we said we'd be. Friends. Right? Friends. But like-come on. Have you seen him? His abs? That man has a six-pack like he's sculpted from marble. His hair? Brown and silky, like-like a shampoo ad or somethin'. And those eyes? The kind of blue that makes you forget your own name. I swear to God, I'm not even being dramatic. So yeah... maybe I've a teeny, tiny, miniscule crush on him. Can you blame me? No. No, you can't. I won't hear it. But I'm not saying a thing. No way. What if he just laughs? That'd kill me. So for now, I'll just pretend I don't stare at him for longer than is normal when he talks. For now, it's just friendship. Grand. ...But what if he does feel the same? *** Bethany Gibson. Jaysus. She's been my best friend since we were in playschool, like actually since nappies. She's pure chaos-loud, mad, always in trouble for something-but I wouldn't change a thing about her. Not one thing. She's class. Gorgeous too. Not just like "oh she's grand," no-proper gorgeous. Her blonde curls bounce when she laughs, and I swear it's like the sun's just following her around. Her eyes? Silver. Like not even grey-silver, like a flipping fairy or something. Every time she looks at me, I forget what I was saying. Which is not ideal when you're trying to seem normal, right? I've fancied her since I was about seven. Maybe six. But what am I supposed to do? Tell her? What if she just laughs and goes, "Ah you're gas," and then pats me on the head like I'm some lost puppy? I'd actually evaporate from shame. But then again... what if she does like me back? What if all this time I was too scared to see it?
π“π€πŒπˆππ† 𝟏𝟎 by _jenxkiss
_jenxkiss
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Mike Biggs-the most handsome boy in Tommen. Bit of a gentleman, but he knows how to shut people up when needed. Never thought we'd be close, but after what happened with Sinead-his little sister and my best friend-things shifted. Do I like it? Can't say for sure. He's different when it's just the two of us. Softer. Kinder. But right now, I don't have time for love. I need to focus on becoming like my ma, playing in the orchestra. That's what matters. Not Mike Biggs and whatever this is between us... right? Bridget Feely-shy, sweet, and has this quiet kind of beauty that sneaks up on you. We've been friends for a while, and maybe-just maybe-I've thought about her as more than that. But I never let myself dwell on it. Until I heard her play the violin. Christ, I had no idea she could play like that. Now? Now I can't stop thinking about her. The way she looks when she plays, the way the music seems to carry her somewhere else. And just like that, I'm completely gone for the girl.
π‘π„π‚πŠπ‹π„π’π’ 𝟐𝟏 by _jenxkiss
_jenxkiss
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AJ Lynch is the bane of my existence. He's like a rock in my shoe-small enough to ignore for a little while, but always there, annoying me until I lose my mind. He's the golden boy, the one who gets perfect grades, charms every teacher, and never steps a toe out of line-or so his parents think. Joey and Aoife Lynch's pride and joy, right? Wrong. Because here's the thing: AJ isn't as perfect as everyone thinks he is. He has a secret. A big one. And I, Catherine Biggs, the girl he loves to torment, am the only one who knows it. AJ Lynch is a racer. Yep, that kind of racer-the illegal kind. The kind that sneaks out at night to tear up the streets and put that shiny car of his to work. The golden boy isn't so golden after all, and trust me, I'd love nothing more than to use it against him. Too bad he's too clever for his own good. *** Catherine Biggs. The mean girl of Tommen School. The girl every guy pretends to hate but can't stop looking at. She's the one who gets a kick out of tormenting people, though her favorite targets seem to be boys. Lucky us. If you say anything remotely out of line about her or her little circle of friends, she's on you faster than you can blink. And honestly? She scares most of the lads here. Me? I'm counting down the days until she's out of my life for good. This is our last year, and soon I won't have to see her stupid curly blonde hair, or those blue eyes that are just... too much. I swear, her beauty is all she has going for her. Inside? She's rotten, blacker than black. The kind of girl who smiles while cutting you down. And yet... somehow, she's still in my head. And then there's her boyfriend. Cillian Wilkinson. All charm and dimples, like a walking ad for "Ireland's Most Eligible Teen." Everyone loves him-teachers, parents, even the lads. Except me. I hate the way he puts his arm around her, like she's his and no one else's. Because that's the problem with Catherine Biggs-she's not just in my head. She's under my skin.