#spidervenom

Comes back and leaves

This is strictly raimiverse

Last year, the year before last, we saw comics in which Spiderman would gag just by looking at the symbiote, and act like it was the most disgusting thing that exists in the entire universe and now...

Incredible? an absolute feeling of electricity? SEXY??

Spidey you're talking about a married symbiote! With kids!

I do ship them tho... But even I have a filter where I can recognize what's canon and what's just nonsense my head creates because making ships is fun. So I can recognize that whatever's going on here is completely and totally out of character. Spider-Man would NEVER, EVER. From the second he discovered his "suit" was actually a living being, he tried to remove it from moment one. Even risking his own life to do so.

I don't know which writer or writers are in the latest Spiderman comics. But they are totally SpiderSymby lovers. There is no other logical explanation for what is happening here xd

What I find funniest is that they aren't even reciprocating. Symby chose to go back to their husband and son rather than stay with Spidey.

Spidey is like "damn, it was so cool to be reunited with the symbiote, I wonder if he feels the way I feel." and Symby is just happy because their back with their "perfect family".

Because this is also the first time we've seen Spiderman act this way. The last time he teamed up with the symbiote that I can remember was this one. And their interaction was not friendly.

still called them "suit"

and generally found it unpleasant to have to use the symbiote.

Spoilers for: Marvel Swimsuit Special: Brand New Beach Day #1 (2026)

woe raimi spidervenom yaoi be upon ye

First is @anisecandy's prompt of a SpiderVenom fic involving food:

“Sooo… baking?” Peter leaned precariously into Eddie’s personal space. He was still in costume, except for the mask left crumpled on Eddie’s worn couch, and had stopped by to say hi.

Eddie grumbled, too focused on measuring out ingredients to actually respond. Letting him into their apartment may have been a mistake. 

“It's just not what I pictured when I imagined you and food, y'know?”

“And what did you imagine?” Eddie asked before he could stop himself. 

“A year ago, I'd have said you ate rats in the sewer–” Eddie froze for a moment. They weren't there any more, but they had been. “But I figured carry-out, mostly, and pre-made bodega sandwiches. Basically what I eat when Aunt May isn't feeding me.”

“You are not incorrect in that assumption. I eat pre-prepared food when I have the funds.” He paused as the symbiote began adding the dry ingredients into the wet, stirring as its tendril slowly shook the flour mixture from one bowl to another. “I eat canned foods otherwise.”

“That sounds pretty sad.” Peter had settled on the ceiling while Eddie wasn’t watching. At least he was out of the way. “Not that I’m saying you’re a sad person!”

“I did not assume you were. Thanks to my other, my eating habits diverge quite strongly from the average human.” He smirked. “I only eat once a day.”

Peter’s face scrunched. “Why?”

Perhaps that wasn’t something to be proud of? “It eases the burden of supporting me on my other.”

The scrunch eased everywhere but Peter’s forehead. A hand rose up to his chin in a display of thought. “You mean you don't actually have to eat?”

“Technically. Earth doesn't have an abundance of the necessary nutrients freely available so it isn't viable long term.” And Peter didn't need to be told how they'd learned that, though he could likely infer. “We are, at minimum, an obligate chocolate-ivore in any case.”

“Chocolate has the stuff it needs?”

“It has the ‘stuff’ I need to make the nutrients my other needs,” Eddie corrected. The batter was adequately mixed, smooth and brown. All that was left was to fold the chocolate and peanut butter chips in and bake.

“Weird.”

“Says the man who eats sticks of butter as snacks.”

“And I don’t deny that that's weird!”

Eddie spared Peter a disbelieving look before returning to his baking. The various chips mixed in with ease, the multiple pans–Eddie had made a triple batch considering the appetites involved-were greased, and the oven was preheated. 

“I don't!”

“Of course.” Thanks to his other's nonstick tendrils, the batter was easily divided between the pans.

“What're you making anyway?” Peter segued awkwardly. 

“Peanut butter chip brownies.”

“I love peanut butter,” Peter said with more intensity than necessary. “What are they for?”

“Anniversary.” Surely Peter hadn't forgotten. He himself had mentioned the Eddie he'd known a year ago. 

“Who's?” Peter’s head canted at an angle like a confused dog. It looked ridiculous upside-down. 

For a moment, Eddie considered telling Peter to guess. 

Nice, the symbiote chided. 

“Ours,” Eddie said simply, turning back to the brownies so he didn't have to see Peter’s reaction. 

“Ours? What– when– I–,” Peter stammered after a significant pause.

“The anniversary of our truce. It struck me as something worth commemorating.”