Finnian looked at her, really looked at her. "You don't have to keep ruining yourself just because other people did first." Heather went still. For the first time in a long time, she felt tears threaten, and she hated it "I wouldn't know how to be good," she admitted quietly Finnian's voice was gentle. "Then don't be good. Just be honest." She looked at him, this quiet boy with tired eyes and too much kindness, and for the first time, she wanted to stay instead of run. Boys of Tommen Female Oc x Male oc

She was like looking into a mirror. Or reading a book I've always had but only skimmed through. 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 was the oldest daughter in her family. The first try. The first mistake. She carried responsibility like it was stitched into her bones. Moving to Ireland was meant to be a new start-a quiet hope that distance from London might soften the edges of everything. But it hasn't. Of course it hasn't. It's just given her a new place to hold everything together, again. Emory is fraying, but she can't let it show. Her siblings need her steady. They need her unbreakable. And that's what she makes herself. 𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐇𝐆 𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐂𝐇 moves through the world like nothing can touch him. Easy confidence-sharp tongue. Untouchable on the Hurling pitch. He's the boy the teachers don't know what to do with, he's brilliant, but careless-Always needing something to challenge him, or else he's distracted. But underneath all that easy is something unsteady. His childhood was built on volatility. An angry father, a numb mother-and when the fire took them both, Tadhg didn't know what to do. How to live in the soft moments, the quiet-he wasn't even sure what that was. He carries the quiet, suffocating guilt of survival-the feeling that every breath he takes is stolen from his mother, who never got to keep hers. _________________ 𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐆𝐇 𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐱 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 (𝐎𝐂)

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

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐃 He was so happy. How was he so happy all the time? Nobody is that happy. It's impossible. ____________________________________ 𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄 𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐂𝐇 I hated everything about myself. The way my body matured differently than Shannon's. The way my body was curved and built for the eyes of man. I hated me. I hated everything. 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐍 𝐆𝐈𝐁𝐒𝐎𝐍 I was funny. Not as funny as my brother. I had a nice smile, my mother told me so(but she wouldn't believe me if I had told her) I was good at smiling, it made me look happy and that made me feel happy. I wanted to wipe any unhappy memories out of my brain, I wanted to clean the dirt dug into my skin. But I can't. So I'm just happy. 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝟖 BOYS OF TOMMEN FANFIC #1 Shannonlynch (12/29/24 #1 chloewalsh (1/6/25

"Why do you keep coming back?" Ryan looked at her for a long moment. "You know why." 𝙀𝙣𝙙𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝟒 A Boys of Tommen Fanfiction

"You look at me like you hate me." Joey laughed at that. Because hating Gracie Biggs was the one thing he'd never been able to do. 𝙃𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝟔 𝘼 𝘽𝙤𝙮𝙨 𝙊𝙛 𝙏𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣 𝙁𝙖𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

"Make a wish, Teddy." He always made them sound possible. But some wishes were never meant to come true. 𝙒𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝟭𝟬 𝘼 𝘽𝙤𝙮𝙨 𝙊𝙛 𝙏𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣 𝙁𝙖𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

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.

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.

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.