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.

Caden Holland. Honest to God - if trouble had a face, it'd be his. Always arguing. Always correcting. Like he's convinced he's the smartest lad in the room, even when he's talking pure shite. He's got those eyes - dark, quiet, watching everything but never giving anything back. You'd swear he's judging you for breathing wrong. And people talk, don't they? Junkie. Dealer. Bad news. All whispered, but loud enough so you know exactly who they're on about. So I've promised myself one thing: stay away. No smiles. No chats. No pity. Because lads like him drag storms behind them - and you don't even realise you're drowning until you're already under. He's dangerous. Not the loud, show-off kind. The quiet kind. The kind that makes you feel seen and threatened all at once. And I swear on my life - I'm not getting pulled into whatever darkness follows Caden Holland around. *** Mallory Lynch. The name alone sits wrong in my mouth, like something sour. Daughter of the man who put my da behind bars - that's what I was raised on. Fact, not feeling. She doesn't look like danger. That's the trick. She laughs too easily, tilts her head when she listens, pretends she doesn't see the way rooms shift when she walks in. There's a crack in her somewhere. You can hear it if you listen past the cool-girl act. A quiet panic. Secrets rattling around behind her ribs. My plan? Simple. Keep my head. Stay patient. People like her eventually show you who they really are. And when she does - when the truth cracks wide open - I'll be there to watch the Lynch name drop lower than ours ever did. Not out of anger. Out of balance. Because Mallory Lynch smiles like she has nothing to hide - and I know for a fact she's hiding everything.

Joey bloody Lynch. The local junkie of Elk Terrace and, lucky me, my next-door neighbour. When I first moved here, I'll admit, I was curious. I mean, he's got that whole brooding, strung-out thing going on. I used to wonder, what's his deal? Who is he, really? What's the story behind the lanky lad who looks like he hasn't eaten in three days and acts like the world owes him something? Well, spoiler alert: he's a walking disaster. Personality-wise, he's an absolute car crash. Rude. Arrogant. Moody as sin. Honestly, one year. That's what Auntie Lisa promised. And then I can go. Back to London. Back to people who actually know how to hold a conversation without twitching every five seconds. But here I am, stuck in some grim corner of Ireland with Joey Lynch keeping me awake every bloody night. He's in my head like a bad pop song. And maybe that's what hate does. It doesn't burn hot-it festers. Keeps you up. Gnaws at you. And yet, for some infuriating reason, I can't look away. *** Olivia bleedin' Smith. Lives right next door, and thinks she's queen of the estate. Walks around like she's got a crown on her head and diamonds in her shoes. You'd take one look at her and think, "Ah, she's sweet. Bit posh. Keeps her head down." But nah. That girl's got fire in her belly and a tongue like a feckin' dagger. She's the type that'll look you dead in the eye, tell you exactly what she thinks of you, and not even flinch. And trust me, she's told me plenty. Thinks she's above it all - above me. Gives me this look sometimes, like I'm some grubby stain on her fancy trainers. All sharp jawlines and pouty lips, always flicking her hair like she's in some perfume ad. She's insufferable. Stubborn as hell. Always has to have the last word. And yet... there's something about her. Something I can't shake. She's like nicotine. One glare from her and I'm hooked. Can't decide if I want to scream at her or kiss her just to shut her up.

His face was torn. His tone sharp. Eyes sleepy and bleary, but redshot. He couldn't smile this time. It was too heavy. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞. 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐇𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡. 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐎𝐫𝐥𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠? 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫? 𝐈𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞? 𝑩𝑶𝒀𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑶𝑴𝑴𝑬𝑵 𝑭𝑨𝑵𝑭𝑰𝑪 𝑩𝑶𝑶𝑲 2

This is a Katie Wilmot and Patrick Feely fanfic! it will not be canon compliant though, and will be my own story with the tommen characters and setting. It's going to read more as a fun romcom set in Ireland in the early 2000's. If you want a more serious Keely fanfic then you can read my other work Always You or Seeing You It will be from Katie's pov and will include lots of fourth wall breaks that read like diary entries. Hope you enjoy!!! CW: Language regarding smoking, underage drinking, drug use, sexual acts, and use of curse words

I'm watching my own heart break right now, because that's what she is. She is my heart. And she's broken. This is a Boys of Tommen Fan Fiction! That follows the untold love story of Lizzie Young and Katie Wilmot. All of these characters belong to Chloe Walsh, I do not claim any of them as my own, this is purely for fun. Also this story is not related to my other works: 'Seeing You' and 'Haunting You' TW: This story will include self harm, character death(flashbacks), eating disorders, cheating, depression, suicide ideation, bullying, homophobia, anxiety, and overall a lot of trauma. There will also be some explicit scenes that are 16+. I will however be putting specific warnings for different chapters, so you can avoid triggers. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy! (Comment any questions or suggestions that you have for me)

"Kat, I don't want to go with-" "Katie," she corrects, shrugging out of the hold I have on her arm. Why was she being like this? We had flirted practically all year, I would confidently say she was one of my best friends. But right now she was acting like a stranger. A stranger that I had wronged in some type of way. I just didn't know what I had done. "What's going on with you?" I ask, but she's slowly walking away. "Bye Feely." She never called me Feely. All of my other friends called me Feely or Pat or Pa but she always called me Patrick. And I called her Katie Kat. My Katie Kat. ☆☆☆ This is all speculation and many parts will most likely not line up with the canon. All of these characters belong to Chloe Walsh, I do not claim any of them as my own, this is purely for fun. TW: This story will include eating disorders, cheating, depression, suicide ideation, anxiety, and overall a lot of trauma. There will also be some explicit scenes that are 16+. I will however be putting specific warnings for different chapters, so you can avoid triggers. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy! (Comment any questions or suggestions that you have for me)

"I'm not even a whole person, Hugh," my voice is all quiet and squeaky, I can barely form the words. "Yes, you are," he reassures. "No I'm all broken and splintered and I don't even know who I am, I'm nothing, I'm just this void, and I can't fucking escape it, or fix it. I feel like Caoimhe took pieces of me and I won't get them back until I'm with her again." ☆☆☆ This is a Boys of Tommen fan fiction, following Lizzie Young and Hugh Biggs. This story is a sequel to my other completed story 'Seeing You' which follows Patrick Feely and Katie Wilmot, and this story won't make much sense if you read it first. It is also the second instalment in my 'Boys of Tommen You Series'! All of these characters belong to Chloe Walsh, I do not claim any of them as my own, this is purely for fun. This is all speculation and many parts will most likely not line up with the canon, especially as this was written before Releasing 10 was published. TW: This story will include self harm, character death(flashbacks), eating disorders, cheating, depression, suicide ideation/attempted suicide, anxiety, bipolar disorder and overall a lot of trauma. There will also be some explicit scenes that are 16+. I will however be putting specific warnings for different chapters, so you can avoid triggers. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy! (Comment any questions or suggestions that you have for me)

Quinn Gibson x Juliet Bennet This is a Boys of Tommen fan fiction, following Claire and Gibsie's son Quinn and Juliet Bennet. This story is the second instalment in my 'Tommen Next Class' and is connected to my 'Boys of Tommen You' Series All of these characters belong to Chloe Walsh, I do not claim any of her characters as my own, this is purely for fun. TW: This story will include sexual assault, doing drugs, selling drugs, bullying, fighting, swearing, smoking, mental illnesses and overall a lot of trauma. There will also be some explicit scenes that are 16+. I will however be putting specific warnings for different chapters, so you can avoid triggers. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy! (Comment any questions or suggestions that you have for me)

Charlie Holland x AJ Lynch This is a Boys of Tommen fan fiction, following Aoife and Joey's son AJ and Shane Holland's nephew and Spencer Holland's brother Charlie. This story is the fourth nstalment in my 'Tommen Next Class' and is connected to my 'Boys of Tommen You' Series All of these characters belong to Chloe Walsh, I do not claim any of her characters as my own, this is purely for fun. TW: This story will include character death(flashbacks), doing drugs, selling drugs, suicide ideation, self harm, fighting, swearing, smoking, ptsd, mental illnesses and overall a lot of trauma. There will also be some explicit scenes that are 16+. I will however be putting specific warnings for different chapters, so you can avoid triggers. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy! (Comment any questions or suggestions that you have for me)