Modern Miguel - Tumblr Posts

if anyone finds modern miguel ohara fanfics/oneshots, PLEASE SEND ME THE LINK 🙏🙏🙏

if anyone has any badboy miguel x goodgirl reader fics, PUH LEAZE may I have them 🫡

SAU, LA'U TAMA AULELEI !

Pairing: teen!miguel o'hara x fem samoan oc

Summary: Miguel loved being within his own space, but he still had three friends that were persistent.

warnings/notes: I haven't read the comics, so its OOC Miguel :( mb gng. not much of reader x miguel just yettt. profanity, awkward moment

series masterlist

Everyone at school loves Multicultural day: The day where students are able to showcase a few variations from their culture, whether it be food, a dance, or a song. The day Multicultural day was announced, students who chose to participate in performing had 3 weeks to come up with something to show on the day.

Miguel loved being within his own space, but he still had three friends that were persistent. Every day since the announcement, his friends in their shared group chat sent a daily reminder to Miguel, and Miguel only, knowing his anti-social ass wouldn't show up unless they annoyed him enough to do so.

(M.Ohara_99) mahi_sniffer has mentioned you in pussy eaterssssss

Miguel groans at his phone in his hand, as he pushes the trolley in front of him even faster, speeding up so his mother that was beside wouldn't see his lit up notification. Swiftly typing with one hand.

mahi_sniffer: @M.Ohara_99 usi, you coming tmr?

M.Ohara_99: David, what the hell have I told you about our group chat name? My mum can see everything you type.

M.Ohara_99: I know what usi means. I've hung out around you idiots to know enough.

mahi_sniffer: mann 😞 it was fun when you were a plastic samoan mig

M.Ohara_99: I'm not Samoan

aluaigioukae: usi is a Tongan word stupid ass

mahi_sniffer: ohh u right

aluaigioukae: HOW DO YK NOT KNOW LOL UR TONGAN URSELF

mahi_sniffer: mb, thats what happens when im around your samoan speaking ass missus too much HAHAHA

aluaigioukae: stfu

mahi_sniffer: ilyt

mahi_sniffer: ANYWAY.

mahi_sniffer: miguel bruh, come tmr pls

M.Ohara_99: no

mahi_sniffer: pls

M.Ohara_99: no

mahi_sniffer: i'll buy you food

M.Ohara_99: no

mahi_sniffer: YOU DIDNT LET ME FINISH MF.

mahi_sniffer: as i was saying 🌝

mahi_sniffer: I'll buy you food for a week, even at our expensive and very overpriced canteen because you're my bestest friend in the world and because kiuga is a dog😞😞😞😞😞😞💔💔💔

aluaigioukae: WHAT DID I DO

M.Ohara_99: okay. see you tomorrow.

mahi_sniffer: IT WOKRED.

aluaigioukae: worked***

mahi_sniffer: fuck uppp, bet ur freshie ass missus can't spell that either

bololicker: can you both stfu

bololicker: @M.Ohara_99 I got you something to wear for tomorrow

M.Ohara_99: Nevermind, I'm not coming.

mahi_sniffer: YOU JUST SAID YES LIKE A WHOLE MINUTE AGO WHAT

Miguel chuckles to himself while smiling at his phone, abruptly coming to a stop when he feels the trolley crash into something. He looks up with widened eyes, seeing a bunch of packets and vegetables on the floor along with a basket.

"U-uh, fuck. I am so, so sorry," He apologizes instantly, shoving his phone into the middle pocket of his jumper loosely, making his way in front of the figure before getting on to his knees and picking everything up, paying no mind to who it was. Mentally cursing at himself as his knees click loudly, wanting to drown himself as he hears a soft giggle. He was grateful that whoever it was couldn't see his face, because his embarrassment grew even more and his face morphed into a little: 0-0. He grabbed everything and placed them neatly back into the basket before getting up and handing them to the person. Only to be face to face with her.

Fuck.

Manaia Fepuleai. The very girl that may have, or may have not piqued Miguel's interest since the very start of senior year. As well as year 11, 10, 9, 8, and 7...

Miguel found himself standing still in his spot like a complete idiot. This very moment was something he planned out as one of those scenarios he thinks of before going sleep. Always thinking of a plan if he ever sees her in public, that being: flirt.

"Hey, it's okay," Manaia smiled with kindness, sending a sense of relief down his body, though, he still couldn't help that little ink of a feeling of wanting to jump off a cliff.

"You okay? Hope my big basket didn't hurt you," she joked simply, covering her mouth with the back of her palm, the other hand holding the basket. Miguel looked back at Manaia dumbfounded. Looking back at the trolley he was previously pushing and the very obviously, smaller basket in her hand.

"Wh- huh?" He looked back awkwardly while she stood there with an uncomfortable silence, as well as an expecting look on her face. He stared at her for a few seconds with a straight face, braincells finally connecting and forming her words together.

"Oh- Ohhh!" "It was a joke."

The both of them spoke at the same time. She's the first one to speak, beating him and his cut-off apology.

This was going to be one of those embarrassing thoughts that makes him unable to sleep at night, indefinitely.

"You're so funny, Miguel," Manaia laughed once again, leaving Miguel unsure whether she was laughing at him thinking he was joking as well, but it didn't matter anymore. The somewhat awkward tension was gone, he thinks.

"So! Tomorrow.. Multicultural day, yaaaayyyyy.." Miguel slowly stretches the words while making jazz hands, smiling widely as she tried her best to contain her laughter.

Oh my fucking gosh, what the fuck am I doing, Miguel thought to himself.

"You're coming this year? Normally you'd skip out. I remember the other years when you wouldn't come."

"I- uh- well, I guess since it's our last year, I see no harm in going, I guess... Never knew you were so observant of me not coming."

Manaia feels her cheeks flush, smiling heavily as she pushes his shoulder playfully. Both smile shyly at each other.

"Shut up! I've got to get going, but I'd be happy to finally see you tomorrow. Me and the rest of the girls are going to be performing tomorrow."

"I'll come!" Miguel responded a bit too quick for his liking. Taking one step back, realising his excitement and awkwardness made them both stand so close. "Sorry. I mean, I'll come tomorrow for sure. If my friends manage to annoy me enough to come." He gives her a sincere smile.

She tilts her head playfully, a sly smile painted on her face, "I thought I'd be reason enough."

Miguel grew quiet, too flustered to hide his bashful smile. "We'll see tomorrow then."

M.Ohara_99 has sent a message to pussy eatersssss

M.Ohara_99: Disregard what I said, I am coming tomorrow.

bololicker: "disregard 🥸☝️"

aluaigioukae: AINGG SAY MUMS SOUL YOU'RE COMINGG

mahi_sniffer: whose ass do i need to eat to give my thanks , my daddy is coming after a whole hundred years 😖😖

M.Ohara_99: No one's. I'll see you all tomorrow.

mahi_sniffer: you reckon it was his missus??? you kno whoooo LOLOLO👀

aluaigioukae: did ms fepuleai finally talk to you into coming to see herrrrrrr

M.Ohara_99 has left the pussy eatersssss

bololicker: LMAO IT WAS, IT FUCKING WAS SEE

aluaigioukae has added M.Ohara_99 into pussy eaterssss

mahi_sniffer: we shall thank your future missus for the wonderful magic she placed on you

bololicker: amen, amen, amen

aluaigioukae: MANAIA 🔛🔝 ‼️ ‼️ ‼️

M.Ohara_99: Of me.

bololicker: OUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

mahi_sniffer: HE UNSENT IT LMAOOO

aluaigioukae: I ALREADY SCREENSHOTTED IT GUYS, DW DW DW

M.Ohara_99: Kefe

next chapter

andddd thats all from me for now!! i actually enjoyed this a lot. dont be afraid to leave a comment :DDD <33

likes, reblogs, a comment and a kind follow are much appreciated 😊💞

SAU, LA'U TAMA AULELEI !

pairing — ooc teenager miguel o'hara x oc samoan character

summary — How hurt can you be if you're in too much denial?

genre — romance, comedy, drama, angst, slight slow burn.

warnings — pls read mentions of sexual harassment/assault. emotional abuse, heavy violence, familial problems

last updated — 17.04.24

drabbles??

la'u teine aulelei

- chapter 1 | all praise to ms fepuleai

- chapter 2 | that's who?

- chapter 3 | Hey Girl

- chapter 4 | Caught lackin'

- chapter 5 | the weeknd

- chapter 6 | friends.

- chapter 7 | cry, baby, cry. 18+

- chapter 8 | welcome home!

- chapter 9 | johnny come home

- chapter 10 | cyber sex

- chapter 11 | pending...

- chapter 12 | pending...

- chapter 13 | pending...

MIGUEL O'HARA !

creds: header from @cafekitsune <3

SERIES

SAU, LA'U TAMA AULELEI

SAU, LA'U TAMA AULELEI PLAYLIST

HEADCANONS

coming soon !

ONESHOTS

coming soon !

W.I.P

Jock!Mig x Nerd!Reader (Req)

Virgin!Miguel x Fem!reader

I FUCKING LOVE BISTRO HUDDY AND I LOVE THIS????? OMFG OMFG OMFG

‘𝔴𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤’ 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲 | 🩷

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: A day in the life of a restaurant waiter with crappy customers. But there's always someone who makes you smile. (with their sweet treats and charms.)

Trigger Warnings ⚠️: misogynistic comments (not by Miguel but by someone else), fluffy ass shit, two idiots in love, mutual pinning.

Word Count: +2.4k

Author’s Note: yes. (there might be a spin-off part of this as I wanted to add more, but I don't have the time right now. miles and gwen are college students in this one-shot btw.)

Part Two → ‘sweetest’ treatment

Dedicated to my little tortellinis (my moots). I love you guys; you are the best 💌

“I think I have a crush on someone, and I don't know if it's because he's hot or because I work with him.” The strawberry blonde with pink tips in her hair looked away from her phone screen and back to you, pausing her texting motions. “What? Who tell me?” She prays, soon leaning against the host stand. “Tell me right now, please!” She begs.

“Oh god, it's not Gabriel, is it? It's Gabriel, right?” She gasped, soon leaning over to you. “No, it's not Gabriel.”

Shouting from the kitchen in the restaurant carried its way over to the front of the host stand, causing you and Gwen, the strawberry blonde, to look at the commotion.

“Ay coño, Parker! I said to put the sauce on the SIDE!” You looked towards the individual’s yells from the kitchen and felt your cheeks dust an unwanted blush.

“No… Miguel?” Gwen gasped, nearly laughing. “Stop it! It's not funny. It's so embarrassing.” You mumbled before you adjusted yourself against the host stand.

“Look, I get it if it was a line cook. They always compliment waitresses. But Miguel?” Gwen snickered. “Now that's a different type of breed.” You glared at the blonde once again and covered your face with a nearby menu pamphlet after doing so.

“You cannot tell anyone. No one must ever know. And don't even think about telling Miles.” You demanded before a couple of customers came into the restaurant.

/

“We have a strawberry tart ready for table two!” An older male shouted, soon sliding the plate over to the executive chef. “Perfect! This reservation is the last stretch tonight.” Miguel announced in the kitchen. The short-lived celebration ended for Miguel when you stormed into the kitchen, soaked in tomato soup, and entered the freezer, closing the heavy door behind you. Gwen trailed behind, entering the kitchen a few seconds after you ‘locked’ yourself in the freezer.

“Woah, what happened?” Peter asked, soon picking up on the situation. Gwen looked over to the older man and leaned against the kitchen counter. “It's these customers. They blew up on her after the husband didn't like how you cooked the ribeye steak and how the wife wanted bacon in her grilled cheese sandwich, but the husband didn't want her to have bacon.”

Miguel sighed and rubbed his hand against his face. “And did they ask for a refund?” Miguel questioned Gwen, having to look down at her due to their height difference. “No, he wanted another ribeye steak and to keep the original order as well…” Gwen stopped as soon as she saw the angered man before her.

“A freeloader is what he is. And yelling at my staff?! Oh, hell no!” Peter rushed to the peeved-off executive chef and stopped him from passing through those kitchen doors. “No, no, no! We can't have you go out there!”

“Why not?”

“Because we don't need you almost to throw a chair at the next asshole! This restaurant isn't a Waffle House!” Peter argued before he left his place in the kitchen and made his way to the freezer. “As the Sous chef, don't do anything too reckless while I'm in the freezer…” Miguel only covered his mouth with his hand in frustration and sighed. “Alright, fine…”

Peter gave Miguel a curt nod before stepping into the chilly freezer, seeing the heaps of crates filled with fresh produce and veggies. While roaming the tight space, he found you crouched beside the onions and potatoes. “There you are, kid…”

“Come on out there…” You looked up from where you crouched in the freezer, feeling tears rolling down your cheeks. “Peter…” You sniffled as you looked at the older man.

“Hey, would you like to tell me what happened from your perspective?” His voice toned down into a mellow tone, which you rarely hear when he was the sous chef during rush hour. The man squats down in front of you, awaiting any response, even if it is a nod.

You reluctantly nodded before you took a deep breath. “This happened. So I helped an older couple…”

/

“Hello! I'll be your server tonight. Is there something I can get you to drink while you look at the menu—” You instantly got interrupted by the male customer who rudely coughed in your direction before he cleared his throat out loud and looked at you with annoyance? “Yeah, yeah, I'll take a coke, and my wife will have a water.”

“But I wanted a Dr. Pepper…”

“No, sweetie, you need water.” The man interfered, soon hissing in anger. You deeply took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, a water and a coke.” You handed the menus to them only for the man to snatch them away from you, causing a small yelp to escape from you, and felt a small cut against your finger.

“You better do a good job here. The last time I went here, you guys didn't do a good job with my steak.” You nodded in concern. “Oh, I'm sorry about that; well, I can assure you that our Michelin/Executive chef will satisfy your guy’s taste buds.” The man only rolled his eyes and sighed. “That's what the bartender told us last time, and it was shitty.” Taking a deep breath, you nodded and allowed them to open the menus. “I'll give you two a few minutes to look at those menus.”

/

“Hey!” The man whistled at you like a dog, soon beckoning you. The pen you had in the grasp at your hand was strong enough to break the plastic around the pen to break. Swallowing the little amount of pride you had left, you made your way back.

“Are you stupid?” The man exclaimed, almost loud enough for some remaining patrons to hear. “Excuse me?” You stammered.

“My wife said she didn't want bacon in her grilled cheese sandwich for her order!” The man huffed, allowing his voice to carry around the space. “It's okay, sweetie, I don't mind the bacon in my grilled cheese; it makes my tomato soup taste better—” The wife tells him in a soft, mellow tone, only to get the tomato soup taken away from her and to get the hot contents of the soup splashed onto you. The warm, thick soup landed all over your button-up and on your black dress pants, and some dripped down on the carpeted floor. “I'm sorry, sir, I only went by with what your wife wants and—”

“Are you stupid? You are incompetent! You are a silly young woman who can't even take a food order! All of you women can't remember shit! You gave my wife the wrong grilled cheese sandwich, and you gave me a ribeye steak with the wrong sauce! All of you women are the same, nothing but blubbering idiots! How hard is it to remember food orders?!”

You glanced over to the wife, who covered her face with her hands, embarrassed of what her husband yelled at you, a young woman in her mid-twenties. “I'll be back with your correct orders then.” You reach to grab the plates but only get a glare from the older man. “No, I'm keeping the ribeye steak. I want another one rare and not medium rare. Now get to it!”

/

“And then he mocked me for having soup dumped on me, knowing damn well that he was the one who did this…” You sniffled to Peter, who was digging around his pocket, and grabbed a handkerchief, wiping up the tiny botches of soup stains and tears off your cheeks while shushing you. “Hey, hey, hey. It's okay.” You only started to sob out loud, hearing the words of comfort from the sous chef. “No, no, it's okay…” Peter shushed you again, wiping your tears away.

It took time for you to step out of the freezer by getting a lot of persuasion from Peter and Gwen. After getting convinced of a free soup from Peter, you stepped out with lingering tears and quivering lips. Miguel saw the look of terror in your eyes while you sniffled. The way you looked helpless and scared was enough to snap the man.

“Parker, Stacy, I‘ll take it from here.” Miguel intervened, soon making his way over to you. You looked up at him, imagining that your makeup was most likely staining your cheeks while you reeked of tomato soup. The sous chef looked on with concern while Gwen returned to running tables. “Peter, it's fine. I'll take it from here. Take care of the orders for a bit.” The older man nodded and ran off to take care of the following order for the evening.

You find yourself in panic, heart racing, and breathing quickening. Suddenly, a calming voice interrupts your racing thoughts. "Shhh, it's okay. You're not out there. You're here with me. Take deep breaths." You look up to see a reassuring face and feel his calloused hands gently take yours.

You take a shaky inhale and feel your chest fill up with air before a small sob escapes from you. "Hey, hey, look at me," Miguel says, his voice soothing. "Breathe through your nose, and exhale through your lips, nice and easy." You follow his instructions and feel your body relax as the panic slowly subsides.

You felt your hands lightly squeeze his, trying your best to calm down. “There we go; I bet that feels better, huh?” You nod and get ready to explain the situation but only get stopped when Miguel grabs a freshly prepared strawberry tart from nearby and gives it to you. “This is what we're going to do. You will eat this and sit in the break room with Miles. Lyla will get some clean clothes, and Peter and I will deal with your table, okay?”

“But—”

“No buts. Go on, go to the break room. Peter will tell me what happened.”

/

While eating the sweet dessert, you heard a commotion, a commotion in the dining area of the restaurant, with Peter pleading with Miguel not to throw a punch at the misogynistic man. You continued to eat the sweet dessert while Miles was in the break room with you, eating his lunch. “I heard about what happened… and I'm so sorry for you.”

“Miles, let’s not talk about that man now.”

“Come on, it's obvious you like the guy, and he likes you, too. Look what he's doing for you.”

“That old man can suck a dick—” You paused and realized what Miles was talking about. It wasn't about the crabby customer, but rather, the executive chef who was about to roundhouse the old fuck on the face after throwing hot tomato soup on you.

Gwen told him... fuck.

"Gwen... god dammit!" You sighed, finally finishing the sweet dessert Miguel gave to you. "She told you?! When?"

"When you were taking an order from that couple, she told me..." You let out a huff of annoyance before you slumped in your seat, giving up on your little secrets. "...But honestly, do you think this is a stupid little crush?" You asked the young busboy. "Well," Miles trailed off, humming to himself while thinking until he stopped and looked at you. "When you think about Chef Miguel, I mean, Miguel, what comes to mind?"

I can't believe I'm getting advice from a young college student…

"I mean.." You felt a burning sensation dust on your cheeks before something came out. "He makes me feel safe."

"Woah..." Miles remarked, soon taking a bite out of his sandwich. "That's surprising. Usually, anyone is scared of Miguel. But he makes you feel safe; why do you suppose that is?"

"I don't know?!" You huffed. "Recently, he's been giving me free meals after an error on the order, like two days ago. He accidentally made a ribeye steak with extra sauce. Usually, he would keep it for himself to eat for his break. But recently, he's been giving me "messed up" food orders." Miles nodded and gestured for you to continue. "And he's been making trips to the hostess stand recently to check how many covers we have left."

"And you didn't come to think that maybe he likes you?" Miles sighed. All the signs were there. The acts of service by giving you free food? The quality time he's trying to squeeze in time with you whenever he comes by the hostess counter to "check the covers" they have left? The man was a green flag, perhaps a healthy green forest with no red, wild berry in sight.

"Nah, he probably doesn't like me." You shrugged before you adjusted your soup-covered button-up and saw Lyla enter the break room with a spare shirt.

"Likes you? Who?" She demands.

"Lyla, not now." You sighed. "Come on, tell me." She gives you her usual shit-eating grin, the same grin on her face whenever she hears gossip. "Lyla, not now, please." The short bartender nods before she leaves the clean shirt on the table. "You better text me about this later." She demands and runs out of the break room.

Silence returns to the break room, and you look at Miles. "I don't know, it seems like he's into you." Miles shrugged.

"But he isn't-"

You stopped as soon as the commotion from the dining area stopped, following a loud door slam. You glanced over and soon stepped out of the break room and into the now-empty dining area. The couple had already left, with Miguel placing his hands on the table and sighing. You inched closer to him and stopped only a few feet away.

"They're gone."

"I mean, it's pretty obvious." You peeped at him, staying in place where you stood. The quiet space in the dining area was so palpable that anyone could hear a pin drop if they chose to do so. "Hey, about that customer, thanks for dealing with him." Miguel only nodded in acknowledgment before he grabbed your little server book and turned to face you.

"They just wanted to let you know that they're very sorry for the inconvenience that they caused. The wife apologized by leaving this behind." He turned to face you and handed the black server book over to you.

You opened the server book, and the recipe fell out, along with three crisp fifty-dollar bills.

"Holy shit... This is the biggest tip I've seen in a while!" You exclaimed, nearly laughing in joy. "This is enough for my electricity bill!" You beamed before you clutched onto the server book and ran off into the break room.

While running off to Gwen and Miles about the generous tip you received from the wife, Miguel adjusted the wallet in his pocket. He would tip any amount to you to see you smile like that again...

SAU, LA'U TAMA AULELEI - CHAPTER 9 !

pairings; OOC teen!miguel o'hara x fem samoan oc

summary; just manaia being upset every single fucking second of this chapter

warnings/notes; baby manaia crying 😞 childhood trauma/ptsd, familial problems, M M MOMMY ISSUES

series masterlist | prev chap | next chap

Manaia was obedient, more than anything. She stayed loyal to her religious upbringing and went by anything and everything her church preached, a perfect example of what any Islander parent wanted. Obedient and complying.

She had been on her third day of fasting. Her church announced for everyone to comply that everyone would eat no meat for three weeks. Her pastor encouraged and informed everyone it was for cleansing, understanding and humbleness. David and Kiuga liked to call bullshit on that, nonetheless Manaia listened and obeyed like she always does. [I failed on my first day, s/o to harley berry for the kfc 😞]

The poor girl tried, but with David, Kiuga AND Sione by her side, she was bound to fail within the first few hours.

Sure, no meat, no fish, only fruit, vegetables, and meat. She can do that, it's not like she hadn't eaten for more than a week besides her church saying to. Her mum just liked to be tight on money, whatever money her mum had, it was hers. Not Manaia's. After all, it is Manaia's fault if she doesn't earn as much as she wants, her mum would say. She held most of the responsibility for paying bills, water, electricity, and the food she put in everyone's mouth besides her own.

Manaia couldn't study properly because of the corruption that clouded her mind. Too many assessments, exams, work, just everything. And there was no way she was going to study in a full classroom, so she asked her teacher if she could go down to the library and into a study room with her two friends.

She hums a quiet tune to herself and looks over to Sione, right before she pokes her best friend in the rib. He jumps at the ticklish feeling.

"Ow! What do you want, dick?" Sione glares at her, poking her back in the side.

She gives him a teasingly smile, "Do you still have that Nutella sandwich you saved? Can I have it?"

Sione pretends to think, his eyes going everywhere but at Manaia. "Hm... no, fuck you," he laughs and puts his whole hand on Manaia's face to push her away slightly.

To this, Manaia groans. Her hand on his wrist to push it away, "But we share everything," hugging his arm to persuade him further.

"Fine. Gimme your apple raspberry cordial and I'll give you my sandwich."

He pulls out a white bread cling-wrapped sandwich and hands it to Manaia mindlessly.

David who mindlessly did his work across the pair had taken out his earphones, "Ay? Cunt, you said I could have it before!"

"Yeah, but you didn't wanna give me your koko alaisa your mum made yesterday."

"You only wanted it 'cause my mum touched the container, you fucking weirdo."

Sione sighs, "You are the wrecker of a man's dreams."

"Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! You told me it was Nutella!!" Manaia tries to say with a stuffed mouth, her mouth was full of chewed-on processed meat, lettuce, cheese and tomato. Her eyes seemed to turn glossy, her heart full of guilt at the accidental break of her fasting. Her breathing was irregular. She had disobeyed. She hadn't listened. She can never do anything right, can she?

"The fuck do you mean?!" Sione yells.

He takes the bread out of her hands. He gave her the wrong fucking one. Manaia had bit into it without even looking, overborne by the thought of hunger.

The yell of her male friend had shifted into multiple, distorted shouts.

"Why wouldn't you look at it before biting into it?!"

"Pack your shit and get the fuck out of my house!"

Something she always wanted to avoid when she was around her group of loud friends.

"Sione, grab that box of tissues and the bin so she can spit it out!"

"Don't you yell at me! You watch your mouth before I throw you and your stupid kids out!"

"Don't you touch my kids with your unfaithful hands! Get out! Get the fuck out!"

Her mind was running at a million miles a second but she couldn't pinpoint a single thought.

"Sione, what the fuck?!" David chimes in.

"SPIT IT OUT!" Sione yells.

Without thinking, Sione sticks his hand out just as Manaia spits every single content onto his palm. Spit and all.

"WHY'D YOU SPIT IT ON MY HAND?" Sione gags at the sight, his eyes avert from his hand as he sees drool falling onto the floor.

"I-I'm sorry.. I didn't know what to do!" her lip quivers, her breathing is shaky.

Manaia wipes her teary eyes before the boys would notice, too taken aback at the glob in Sione's hand.

"So you spit on it?" he glares back at the shorter girl.

"I'm sorry!" she cries a little louder. She hides her face in her palms as she takes in deep breaths.

Her stuttering breaths was something Sione had noticed in comparision to David who was frantic in finding a box of tissues. He inhales a sighs, "It's- I'm sorry, Manaia. Just give me a minute."

He walked over to a rubbish bin that stood near the study room door they were in. David rushed to him and wiped off the remains while pouring water he had onto the other boy's hand.

Sione glances over to Manaia who has a small pout on her face, her cheeks slighter tinted. "Is it okay if you get my phone back up in class? I left it on my desk," Sione lies through his teeth.

David nods and leaves the study room.

Sione is slow with making his way over to his best friend. "I'm sorry for yelling. I really am."

Manaia sniffles. Snot running down her nose. Sione laughs but stops when Manaia glares at him.

"You're such an egg, Naia," he places an arm around her shoulder, his free hand going under his shirt to pull it up, bringing it up to Manaia's face.

"Ew," Manaia whispers.

"Just do it, David finished the tissues."

Manaia sniffles once more before wiping her face all over his white shirt.

Manaia was far too flustered to ever bring up that embarrassing moment down at the library from yesterday. She had made Sione swear to it. She was too engrossed by the loud music that blasted through her earphones and the disgusting thought of ever touching meat for the rest of the few weeks that were to come.

"Just promise you won't tell anyone I spewed on your hand?"

"Bro, promise, you've been saying this for the past 10 minutes."

"Hey."

Miguel stares down at Manaia mindlessly from across the table. He stood tall, dressed from head to toe in school uniform. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he avoids her doe eyes that stare up at him.

Manaia shakes her head, rushed out of thought. She takes out one of her earphones to further listen. "Hi, Miguel," Manaia smiles, looking around to see the class they were in was empty. Her blasting music must've distracted her enough to not notice everyone leave. "Are you okay?"

Miguel shifts his weight from one foot to another, he attempts to distract himself from looking at her too much, "I'm fine, thank you for asking, Manaia."

Manaia hums, now waiting for the boy that stood in front of him to continue, but he just stares mindlessly.

"Hm, it's alright," Manaia spoke, tucking a strand behind her ear after she begins to pack her equipment away. Miguel noticed fatigue had slowly grown on her throughout the days, only not as much weeks prior.

Without speaking, Miguel is quick to make his way around the table and sit on the chair beside her. "I just wanted to talk to you."

Manaia feels her heart swell at the closeness of his body next to hers. She missed talking to him, but she felt like Miguel had grown distant. Mainly towards her. She was going to endure every moment with him.

No, she wasn't going to try and scooch closer to Miguel and remember the smell of his warm, musky cologne that lingered around even when he wasn't present. And no, she wasn't going to switch the side of where her sei laid in her hair to show off more of her beauty to him. No, no, no, why would she do that?

"Mhm, you can talk to me about anything, Miguel," she says, her voice ever so smooth. Miguel wishes to listen to her talk through day and night.

"I heard from Sio..." his lips form a thin line, internally punching himself in the gut, "-the grapevine that you can't eat meat."

Manaia groans, her hands cover her face. She feels her cheeks heat up, "That idiot!"

"He only told me you can't eat meat, that's all he said, I promise," he says lowly to calm her down.

"He blurted out that something happened in the library and that you can't eat meat for a while, he didn't want to tell me anything else." And the truth Miguel speaks. Sione was dumb, but still loyal to his main companion.

Manaia looks away not fully convinced.

Miguel reaches into his black bag, pulling out a purple container.

"I packed Gabriel lunch but he didn't take it, so I wondered if you'd take it instead?" Miguel asks reassuringly, a white lie lingering on his tongue.

"Are you sure I'm allowed to have it?"

Miguel nods his head with a smile, "Very sure, Manaia."

They faced each other, Miguel's arm had propped onto the table, lengthy, veiny hand placed on the container. Manaia's workbook was long gone pushed to the side, her arm parallel to Miguel's. Their fingers itch to reach out to the other. In contrast to Miguel's cold hands, Manaia's warm hand slowly lifts, leaving a sweat mark on the table from her nervosity, and is on top of Miguel's.

Miguel smiles, and she shyly smiles back.

"I've missed talking to you, Miguel," Manaia bites back a giggle when she sees Miguel avert his gaze with a small grin on his face. He coughs back a shy laugh.

"I guess Gabriel just loves stealing you away from me. You keep letting him win."

Manaia's smile falters slightly, "I don't understand what you're getting at. I don't want to be talked to so I can be won over. I want you to talk to me because you want to talk to me."

"Yes, of course, Manaia, I want to talk with you and hangout. It's just, you know, you never really want to hangout with me."

"I do, I swear I do. I feel like you give me the cold shoulder when I'm around you. Do you not like me? Is there something I've done-" Manaia's eyebrows furrow, the warmth of her hand long gone from Miguel's.

"I can never not like you, Manaia. You're just around my brother a lot and-"

The stunned girl is confused, "What does he have to do with anything? I'm not together with him, or anything like that."

"You both are close and I don't want to ruin whatever you might have."

"Have you ever thought that maybe "whatever" Gabriel and I have might be something that I want with-"

Manaia's phone goes off, her screen faced right up as it glows.

*buzz buzz buzz*

gabri <33 is calling you !

gabri <33 has left you a message !

gabri <33: i got detention during halfway thru the break, i'll see you later in class beautiful girl

That idiot. That fucking idiot, Miguel thinks. Even when he wasn't here, he had to ruin things either way.

"What were you going to say?"

Manaia plays off his question and packs her things. What she could grab from the table was thrown into her bag.

"Nothing, it's stupid. I should've stuck by what you said weeks ago."

A girl can only dream of having a full 8 hours of sleep.

Manaia opened the door to her house slowly so as not to have it creak loud to wake up her younger brother. Her shift was terrible as always. Stupid customers, stupid teammates, stupid everything.

She's greeted with the sight of her mother looking in front of her, entranced by the large TV that was turned off. Bottles of the cheapest beer she could find were laid out everywhere. Dried-up tears ran through her cakey attempt at makeup, smudged mascara rubbed against her eyes. The armchair of the single chair her mother sat on had a spill on it.

Manaia puts her work bag down, and sighs. She walks over to her mother before sitting down in front of her on the ground, her legs criss cross.

Her hand lifts and hesitates to touch and comfort her mother, so she stops and leaves her hands at her legs.

"Mum?" Manaia calls out sweetly, "Are you okay?"

Manaia manages to not whince when her mother glares down at her.

"Siana, sorry," she gulps. "Siana, are you okay?"

Siana meets Manaias gaze. Her wrinkly hands tremble as she leans down, they're close to meeting Manaia's face. To this, Manaia sucks in a breath and hopes that what was to come was only for a short moment, just for a change unlike how they were before.

But her heartbeat softens when her mother's hands hold her cheeks in a way she's longed for. Siana's thumbs caress her cheeks, and her ragged breath fans over Manaia's face. Manaia leans into the warmth of her mother's touch, and then her mother speaks with a broken voice.

"Ese le aulelei o la'u kama." [my boy is so beautiful.]

Manaia sighs, "I'm a girl, Siana."

"You're not my Johnny?"

Manaia's lip quivers, and tears brim in her eyes. "No, I'm your daughter."

"Hm," Siana nods her head in disappointment. She tsks and lets go of her daughter's face.

Manaia itches to reach for her hands, yearns for the warmth, but she can only wish.

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