#atsv gabriella

[parasiticstars]

It’s still Halloween somewhere okay

Anyways today while handing out candy I saw this father and daughter in the funniest fucking costume and uhm

[spiderman2-99]

Día De Muertos is supposed to be a celebration. When the dead return home, the day is filled with festivals, family, home-cooked food, and the bright smell of marigolds.

But Miguel O’Hara has no family, is too miserable to leave the apartment, and all the marigolds have gone extinct.

They’ve been extinct since 2095, actually. How hadn’t he known? That should've been something he'd figured out sooner, right? But no, he finds out a week before the day itself while he’s trying to make Gabriella’s ofrenda.

What does his beloved baby girl, who he would’ve given the world a thousand times over, get instead? Paper flowers.

Paper flowers instead of real ones, possessions that represented her instead of properly being hers, a half-done altar that was done in a manic, grief-fueled haze.

It’s paltry. Miguel knows it is. But it’s all he can give, and by God, he hates it. He tried to make it up in home-made pan de muerto and fresh fruit and her favorite dinners, in the carefully arranged papel picado garlands, in finding actual copal to burn… but it’s not enough. It could never be enough.

It’s been a long time since he’d last made an ofrenda, actually. He fell out of the tradition sometime when he was in college, when he was young and unburdened and selfish and so, so stupid, and had convinced himself he had much more important things to do with his time than honor traditions.

Sometimes, he wants to reach out to that little twerp and beat him senseless.

No, he wants to laugh, or scream, or pull his hair out. It’s a sick joke; a cruel jab at his expense, that he only started giving a shit about his own cultural holidays again after Gabi died, when he could no longer share the homemade food with her, help her learn about the significance.

It feels so wrong, being unable to share this with his daughter. Having the altar be dedicated to her, instead of her helping him set it up; teaching her how to make the banners and arrange flowers and bake bread, entertaining whatever thousands of questions she’d have about the holiday and her great-great-whoever’s they’d be celebrating. What would she have thought of the chicken and chile rellenos? Of the Calaveritas? The toys he left out?

Hijo de puta. A parent isn’t supposed to outlive their child.

It’s a pathetic altar too, as far as he’s concerned. Miguel hadn't done this in so long that he'd nearly forgotten how to; having to go on the internet just to remember the guidelines. Even then, there were so many conflicting answers that it left him confused and flying blind the whole damn time.

Did he do enough as a father to honor her? Did the ofrenda do her memory justice? Did he do anything right? Is there enough salt to purify her body? Enough water and food to provide for her long journey? Was the copal actually supposed to be incense, or did it have a different meaning? Are the purple candles placed correctly? Would tissue paper marigolds, devoid of scent and life, be enough guide her safely back home?

These worries swarm like vultures to a carcass, picking at and tormenting him to the point where he can barely stand to look at the stupid, thrown-together thing any longer. He should know how to do this— today is much more than just a holiday; Día de Muerto and all of its rich traditions should be a part of who he is, steeped in his identity, his culture. It should be more familiar than breathing.

But now it just makes him ache, seeing how he couldn’t even properly commemorate his own little girl.

In a brief moment of clarity, Miguel realizes he really just should’ve just taken more time to research and plan it out better. If only it weren’t for the constant high-stakes responsibilities, the needs of far too many all on his shoulders, the people, people, people.

Not like he didn’t try; Halloween and all day yesterday, Miguel had been rushing uncharacteristically through work, trying to get caught up enough to take time off. But of course, God had it out for him and practically half the damn Society wanted to barge into his office to badger him about something. He ended up with a shock-ton of random gifts and baked goods on his desk that he’d unceremoniously pawned off to Peter B. (save for a bottle of Don Julio, but the other man didn’t need to know that), enough sanguine well-wishes to last him a lifetime, and high blood pressure.

And the time and effort he scraped up still wasn’t enough to get it done right. It could never be good enough. He could never be good enough.

Miguel can’t stop second-guessing himself, can’t stop that all too familiar spiral of guilt and self-loathing that rots away at his insides like necrosis. He’s a scientist and an engineer, for shocksake— logic and reason should override his emotions, should stop them from clouding him at all. But all he can do is sit there, staring at the sorry excuse for an ofrenda with a lump in his throat and a throbbing headache that won’t go away.

Today couldn’t have gone any worse.

His joints pop viciously as he gets up from the floor just to prove him wrong. Cristo en el cielo.

The only bright side to this whole thing is that… well, no one is here. No one to see his embarrassment, or his failure; no one to question him, or ask him how he’s feeling, or try to give a hug, or any more goddamn food. It’s just him and his ever-spiraling thoughts and the grief that threatens to consume him whole.

Carefully, with a trembling hand, he lights the incense, then the candles, the golden glow dancing around his otherwise dark apartment. It… almost makes it look better. Less like a broken down man’s sorry attempt at repentance and more like a proper ofrenda.

Almost.

Día De Muertos is supposed to be a celebration, filled with festivals, family, home-cooked food, and the bright smell of marigolds.

But Miguel O’Hara has no family, is too miserable to leave the apartment, and all the marigolds have gone extinct.

[fancymussmuss]

[shoogachi]

A little bit about ‘ teenage’ Gabriella’s design — her suit is based off of the shirt she’s wearing in the picture next to her. I also wanted to make it look like the spider emblem on her suit is catching a fly in its web.

Her AI assistant I’m calling ‘AIDA��� right now is a mixture of both ATSV and the original 90s comic appearance for Miguel. I kind of like to imagine their interactions being a bit similar between Miguel and LYLA except reversed. Also like LYLA I gave AIDA pink shades but they’re star shaped. He also often controls a little bug robot that Gabriella built which she sometimes brings with her on missions.

[x-chqrmolypi-x]

[ sw!gabi au ]

goodnight dad, i love you.

[pinkpinkmermayyy]

guys guys maybe idk maybe I’m being a bit too cringe idk but like bro imagine

Cinderella au

Miguel finds a universe where he and Gabriella live in a fantasy setting and they’re living as a typical fantasy family. Gabi’s mother died, and later the Miguel in this universe decides to remarry to a woman with two stepdaughters. Miguel in that universe dies (Miguel in 2099 doesn’t interfere this time but he watches on) and Gabi is left with a secretly wicked stepmother and two spoiled and cruel stepsisters. Miguel watches as she becomes a slave of her own home with a sense of helplessness, fearing that if he tried to help then the canon would break and she’d die again. But seeing the stepsisters rip apart her dress and Gabi crying with no one coming to help her made him snap.

He knew there wasn’t any fairy godmother coming, there wasn’t any magic or light anywhere. So he decided to be the godfather himself.

@i-put-the-wit-in-dimwit @jasontoddssuper @the-cat-and-the-birdie @chessbox @adorefavv @thisismisogynoir @hobiebrownismygod @spidey-bie

[cookieruma29]

Dumb thought

But imagine if Gabriella had a A.I like lyla

[freestyle-crocodile-trashpile]

Crush?

[A/n:So I got this idea when my nephew was telling me about his crush, and it's so cute listening to little kids talk about their crush 😭😭 also, I aged up there babies for this]

Summary:Their kids have a little crush on you

Type:Hcs: Miguel + Jess + Peter & their kid

Version:Atsv

Peter B Parker

Omg, his heart is melting on the inside

Hearing mayday come home and immediately tell him about her little crush really got him

Almost cried

Miguel was a victim to this story

Literally was so happy for her, like he couldn't hide the smile on his face

He just found it so adorable and couldn't help himself

He quite literally told everyone who talked to him about it

Miguel O'Hara

He was ready to fight murder her crush

But he couldn't deny the fact he found it cute

He also told Gabrielle about his first crush

He acted annoyed when Peter told his story, but if his work wasn't so exhausting, he'd do the same

He looked forward to seeing how Gabrielle and her crush would end up

His heart would melt if she got her crush something for valentines day

He couldn't help it, him and Peter talked about their kids and their little crushes for hours

Jessica Drew

She would be so happy

Especially if she met her kids crush

It makes her happy when she sees her kid talking so passionately

Her, Peter, and Miguel have a little unofficial club just talking about their kids

She honestly loves it, and openly tells her kid how cute she finds their little crush

Bonus points if her kid is embarrassed

If her kid gets their crush something, she'll 100% help them find the perfect thing

[A/n:Okay, I had to think alittle hard fir Jess's, I was abit stuck. I hope you enjoyed, and hopefully I can start getting more story's out]

[cupid-whisprs]

It's ok bbg I'm crying sobbing with you 🫂

[miguel-owhora]

brutus is so miguel coded

anyways au time bc im craisy !!!

au where gabriella lives bc the universe shocks up and doesnt react to miguel taking over so miguel gets away with it :3 but he still creates the spider society n stuff, but people are more aware of what he did n theyre like .... ermm...... but miguel doesnt want anyone destroying his happy life so he takes it upon himself to literally destroy their world if they question what he did :3

and so it goes like that until gabriella is older, probably a teenager, n she finds out what happened. idk what happens but miggy dies ! unfortunately. but gabri is so shellshock she does the very thing she told herself she'd never do: she takes the spot of another gabriella and pretends nothing happens. she pretends her 'father' never died, she pretends to be that gabriella, and just like our miguel, the universe fails to react to her and she gets away with it :3

and then she takes over the spider society n has to deal w people telling her she's exactly like her father.

[pinksepia]

Papa can talk to fairies!

[spiderman2-99]

✨:happy-Gabriella

[06.12.2022, TRN-1042]

“Papa. Papaaaa!”

“Hmrgh.”

“¡Vamos! It’s almost noon!”

“HwuAGH?!”

Miguel blearily opens his eyes and is promptly assaulted with, as promised, the bright mid-day sun. And then is physically assaulted by about 100 pounds of over-excited ten year old girl clambering on his bed to wake him up.

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” he says frantically, voice still rough around the edges from the vestiges of sleep, as he futilely wrestles with his daughter in an effort to stop her from turning him into a shaken-up pop bottle. Christ alive, he feels like it already.

  Only once he harmlessly pins Gabriella down so she’s sprawled on her back, himself half leaning over her, does she finally concede, her face ruddy from laughing. How the shock kids can have this much energy is beyond him.

(Then again, it is noon, and he was out all night. So.)

Miguel leans back up when he’s certain she won’t try any funny business again, slowly, like she’s a particularly ferocious little velociraptor.

“You were snoring again,” she states as she sits up beside him, brushing imaginary dust off her shirt.

Though his brain is still trying to boot up, he manages to scoff in mock indignation. “I do not snore-“

“Uh, yes you do. It’s like- HOOOOOONK- SHUUUUUUUUUU”

“-and I certainly don’t sound like that.”

“Yes you doooo- no, wait, actually, it's louder, like,” she throws herself back on the bed for emphasis, “BWAAAAAAAAAA-“

“Alright, missy, now you’re just exaggerating. I don’t always sound like that.” Even with the faux irritation, he can’t help but huff out a short chuckle.

“Noooo,” she drawls, leaning up on her arms. “you only sound like a chainsaw when you stay up all night.”

Miguel winces. After he’d replaced his alternate, he still kept up the mantle of Spider-Man, even though the other Miguel wasn’t spiderman; and that universe, that New York, wasn’t his to protect. Oh, and it was about 70 years behind his native 928. Old habits die hard, even for the most skilled of usurpers.

"Yeah, I do. I just... had a lot of work," he finally concedes, ruffling her hair, making her squawk.

The amount of times she’d caught him sneaking back late and beaten were too much for his own liking— to writ, only four, but still four too many. She doesn’t deserve to be dragged into his shit. Though today wasn’t one of those days, he was still so worn-out that he missed the whole morning with his daughter. He forces a smile, a poor attempt at hiding the complicated feelings stirring in his chest.

"You know how that goes. But don't worry, I’ll make sure to go to bed early tonight. So I wouldn't... y'know. Snore."

She pouts a bit. “You always say that. it's always work and you can't talk about it.”

Ouch.

“You know, if I had a super duper cool secret government job," oh, right, that was the excuse he pulled out of his ass, “everyone would know about it. And I mean everyone.”

"You don't even know what I do for a living," he states, "How do you know it's as cool as you think it is?"

“BecauuuuuuseUH! It’s with the Pentagon! You probably see the President!”

(As far as Miguel is concerned, with the hellhole that this universe’s politics are currently in, he’d rather stick a lit cigarette in his eyeball than meet the President. But that’s neither here nor there.)

“Maybe you stopped World War Three! Maybe you went behind the great firewall of China! Maybe you found the cure for cancer or found aliens and the world will never KNOOOOW,” she continues, throwing her arms out for dramatic flair and flopping back down hard enough to make her whole body bounce.

Miguel had completely bullshat that whole “secret government job” story, and he definitely did not anticipate the amount of implication in it for Gabi to latch onto and try to pick apart. That’s just…

Jesus. Way too much for his sleep-deprived brain.

“Maybe that’s why I’m the one working there and you’re not, princessa. You’d blab to everyone.”

She sticks her tongue out at him. Miguel can’t help but snort in spite of himself. He runs a tired hand over his face and shakes his head.

"The truth isn't as exciting as you think, I'm afraid,” he explains, “I'm like... a glorified paper-pusher, really. I get to read the boring reports and watch security footage all day. Super boring."

“Aw.” She crosses her arms in an exaggerated show of petulance.

“Yeah, ‘aw’,” he murmurs, propping his head up with his hand as he leans on his side. Without really thinking about it, he reaches out to play with the flyaway curls around Gabriella’s forehead.

After a bit of brooding, she glances back up at him. “But are there aliens in the footage?”

"No, honey, there's no aliens," he replies with a dry chuckle. "If I saw something strange on the footage, I would've told you by now."

Finally, Gabriella seems placated with this answer. If there’s anything she inherited from her father, it’s the O’Hara ability to cling onto a subject for ages.

Even if this one isn’t her real father.

“Fiiine. But promise me you’ll be on CNN first thing when it happens,” she says, holding out a pinky.

“When I end up on CNN?" Miguel raises an eyebrow. "You don't think I'm important enough already?”

Her eyes fly open. “I’m just saying-“

She scrambles to sit back up. “None of my friends can say their papa’s on the news! Or that he found aliens!”

"Well... you can tell them I work in a super secret place that I can't ever talk about. That's gotta count for something, right?”

“Yeah, but then they’re like ‘what does he do’ and I can’t even answer it!”

Miguel lets out a sardonic laugh. He should… really work on his lies.

"You don’t need to know what I do,” he chides, keeping his tone light, “it’s boring stuff, anyways. Definitely no meetings with the president or alien ambassadors.”

“Uuuggghhhhhhh.”

“And I should definitely stop letting you watch so much Discovery Channel,” he grumbles, though it lacks heat. Just add that to his list of parenting failures; failing to check if that channel is really age appropriate.

All the obsessive research in the world can’t truly make up for the fact that he barely knows how to be a father. That he’s nothing but a cuckoo in someone else’s nest.

Blessedly, his train of thought is cut short by his daughter’s voice, ever stubborn and ever hopeful. “But what if you do find aliens and you’re on there one day?”

“You’re still on that?!”

“Uh, yeah; I don’t wanna miss when you find aliens! Promise me you’ll tell all about it?”

With a soft sigh, he extends a pinky up for her to hold. She giggles and gives it a little squeeze.

"I promise you’ll be the first to know," he says, with as much conviction as he can manage for this batshit conversation. "And when I'm on TV, I'll tell you 'hi', okay?"

“Okay, papa.” The smile she gives is blinding.

“But right now,” he starts, finally getting up and swinging his legs off the bed (pointedly ignoring the way his body aches from the fights last night) “we need to get you fed.”

“I ate though!”

“What, a donut?”

The silence incriminates her immediately.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. C’mon, let’s get actual food into you.”

Father and daughter, carefree as ever, make a late start to the day, but a good one. Life is good, even if it’s one Miguel had to steal. He has a tiny little brick house in residential Manhattan, he has a beautiful little girl, and the most pressing concerns are making sure he manages to bullshit his way into being a good parent— no multiversal tragedies. Not yet.

Not yet.

[fancymussmuss]

Does anyone have a clue who the voice actor is for Gabriella O'hara, since we can hear her voice in the digital release??

[fellhellion]

mija

thank u @theoldkyokodied for this commission i love it so much <3

[giulscomix]

Give this man some happiness, I beg you ❤️💙

[fukutomichi]

Miguel O'Hara (Earth-928)