Before I tell you how I fell down the Venom rabbit hole and why you absolutely should spend your Valentine’s Day watching one of the greatest queer rom coms of this decade, allow me to set the scene. It was the fall of Twentygayteen, a season of pumpkin spice lattes and my favorite bisexual fashion trend (light-wash jean jacket with a faux shearling collar), and every time I logged into Twitter, I was greeted by two things: an obscenely long tongue and sludgy black tentacles reaching out for Eddie Brock.

At the time, I didn’t really know much about Venom, but when it comes to comics, I tend to agree with Anthony Oliveira: I don’t know what straight people get out of them. Comics are a thirsty, queer-as-fuck medium even when they claim they’re not. If anything, the comics heterosexual fans and creators assert aren’t queer tend to star the biggest Queens of them all (looking at you, Deadpool and Joker). So although Venom was new to me, I wasn’t new to this tradition, and it didn’t take much convincing to get me to dive head first into the sticky symbiote pool, especially after someone sent me these two frames.

I don’t know what’s happening here, but there is definitely no heterosexual explanation for it. No platonic one either.

When my fellow queer nerds are obsessing over something, I am always ready to check it out, clearing some brain space for a new obsession. Besides, there was a contrary ripple running through the internet: pearl-clutching and outrage over people daring to be horny over Venom and daring to call this movie queer and it stroked my need to rebel against the puritanical tide. Some poor male soul suffering from heterosexuality (please help raise awareness about this incurable affliction, every tweet and dollar helps those suffering in silence) tweeted about how grateful he was that Tom Hardy was finally playing a character no woman would want to fuck.

In response, the whole thirsty internet stood up in the bleachers waving tentacle flags that spelled out HORNY RIGHTS. And who could blame us? The PR machine did nothing to discourage this. Everyday, I’d see the official Venom account tweeting about how people were giving the movie “two tongues up” and we should “go see what this tongue can do'' flanked by mirrored gifs of undulating tongues touching and licking each other.

See what this tongue can do now in theaters everywhere. #Venom pic.twitter.com/xsUXbbGl7z
— Venom (@VenomMovie) October 25, 2018

They knew the wink-wink-nudge-nudge part of their audience quite well, and they were gleefully catering to it. I like to imagine groups of giggling queer social media interns at Sony crafting tweets and high-fiving each other over cocktails at Drag Happy Hour (probably not how it works, but I can dream.) The ire-filled folks still didn’t believe that was the intent; it sailed over their head like the adult jokes in the cartoons they loved when they were kids. But it didn’t matter because we certainly noticed it.

So here I am, images of tongues rolling around in my head like the midriffs of belly-dancers, feeling uh… stirred up and unsure what to do about that, and I am ready to watch Venom. It should be noted that I have a major weakness for bumbling, snarky, half-drunk protagonists who sit somewhere in the middle of the hero-antihero spectrum. Give me your Trevor Belmonts, your Jessica Joneses, your Wade Wilsons! Imagine my delight when Eddie Brock revealed himself to be nothing but a wise-cracking trash fire hurtling through adulthood on a derailing train made of tater tots and impulsive, poor decisions.

Eddie’s boss says it best: “For a smart guy, you really are a dumbass.”

Before Eddie meets Venom, he is a human disaster badly in need of a rescue. His plants are dead, his coffee table is littered with overdue bill notices, his fridge bears nothing but the cliche markers of bachelordom—Chinese takeout, beer, condiments—he makes masturbation jokes that sound ripped from Tom Waits’ Nighthawks at the Diner (“I’m gonna go home, chase myself around a little, play hard to get”).

If I had written trite promotional copy for this film, it would have looked something like this: “It doesn’t take long before Eddie’s sharp instincts but abysmal planning lead to a busted career and romantic turmoil. And like any newly dumped person, Eddie finds a rebound…but Venom is anything but a rebound. He’s so much more.” Does that sound like the tagline to a cheesy rom com? You’re goddamn right it does because it is. He’s basically got nothing going for him until he unwittingly frees the symbiote and ends up becoming one half of a whole.

This togetherness is something Venom reminds him of at every turn. “I am Venom, and you are mine.” and “You didn’t find me. I found you.” (read: enemies to lovers, slow burn, 100k, possession kink, D/s vibes) Venom takes Eddie, a hapless journalist down on his luck, and immediately protects and cares for him without question. The obnoxious neighbor Eddie couldn’t stand up to? Scared into submission. Carlton Drake’s goons? Pounded into mincemeat. Eddie thinks Venom will discard his body and find another without pause, but Venom makes it clear that he doesn’t want that. Eddie is his perfect match; why would he want to ruin that?

Yes, he calls him his perfect match. No, I will not accept that as a pragmatic remark about DNA and compatible cell makeup. It’s love at first parasitic possession.

But the movie isn’t just about the bond between Eddie and Venom. Those love triangles we always say are a tired trope? The ones so many queer people I know hope will end in polyamory and good communication instead? Look no further! Venom never tries to push Anne and Eddie apart. He plays matchmaker, inhabiting her body and kissing Eddie only to fade away until Eddie and Anne are the ones liplocked. I just—couldn’t believe what I was seeing at that moment?! A threeway queer throuple kiss with a genderless alien in a forest at night. I don’t know how else I’m supposed to take that except as a beautiful, tender moment.

Right after that, Venom reveals that he was going to usher in an invasion and feed on the whole planet, bringing thousands of symbiotes to Earth, but he tells Eddie he doesn’t want to do that anymore. He wants to stay with Eddie instead. He’s kind of a loser on his planet too, and he’s a bit smitten with the idea of teaming up with Eddie to make something better out of both of them. When Eddie asks what made Venom change his mind, like any alien being with a crush, Venom avoids the question until finally saying, simply, “You did, Eddie.”

Y’all… that’s the most romantic shit I’ve ever seen. Forget “You make me want to be a better man.” Fuck Jerry Shitface Maguire thinking someone completes him. Venom decides not to invade an! Entire! Planet! He thinks humanity may have redemption potential based on the merits of Eddie alone. Slap me, kiss me on top of the Empire State Building, and call me Nancy Meyers because this is a fucking ROM COM. I mean, Venom doesn’t even balk at Eddie’s clumsy quips which, let’s face it, are more half-formed fumbles than comedy gold (“What are you gonna do? You gonna walk me to death?” he tells the henchmen who march him into the woods). I think we can all agree that true love is finding your partner’s bad jokes endearing.

They plunge headlong into battle with our antagonist, a symbiote-beefed up Carlton Drake, Venom admitting their chances of succeeding are basically zero. But neither of them care. They’re ready to risk it together. No greater love hath man than to lay down his life for a friend. *dreamy sigh*

When they get separated in the big fight, Eddie reaches out his hand and Venom takes it, snaking up his arm until they’ve merged once again. (My partner started dramatically singing “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing” during this moment because I have chosen well.)

The “knife as metaphor for penetration” concept is something you see in horror all the time—the drill in Amy Holden Jones’s excellent Slumber Party Massacre is one of my favorite examples—and in Venom, the knife is the symbiote’s amorphous goo infiltrating Eddie’s body to share his space and become one. To say it’s inherently sexual is uh... not even much of a leap here. More of a hop from one sidewalk panel to the next. Sex involves sharing bodily space with someone, in one way or another, and what Eddie and Venom go through when they fuse is undeniably intimate. They also share thoughts and emotions. The connection is pretty indelible.

In fact, Eddie literally describes Venom as having been “up his ass,” and while we can chalk that up to Eddie’s cheekiness (aaayyyeee), we can also take it literally, especially considering the subsequent conversation between Anne and Eddie. The two of them sit on a stoop and proceed to have an awkward talk that is clearly two people comparing notes after they fucked the same alien.

“It did feel kind of great, though.”
“What?”
“I mean, the…”
“The power?”
“Yeah. When it's, you know…”
“Inside you?”

“You know what I mean!” A flustered Anne spouts, looking blushy and ready to change the subject.

They both enjoyed their symbiote sex, and while they’re cool with what went down, everyone is still a bit uncomfortable about sharing the dirty deetz. It’s understandable. It’s pretty new and pretty damn unprecedented. But these kids will figure it out.

*insert footage of me on my couch in penguin pjs surrounded by fancy cheese, pumping my first in the air and shouting “I ship it!”*

“You belong with us, Annie,” Venom whispers inside Eddie’s head because he completely approves. He’s not going to deny his host anything. Not tater tots, and definitely not the love of his life who came before Venom.

That said, Eddie does have to deny Venom a few things. Every good relationship requires compromise. Sometimes it’s about not inviting that one friend over too much, the one who can’t make conversation with your partner, always comes too early and stays too late, brings the worst homemade appetizers and watches while you eat them, anxiously waiting for your reaction and not taking no for an answer. And… you know… sometimes it’s about learning not to indiscriminately eat people whenever your liquid alien belly rumbles? To quote Some Like It Hot, a classic rom com also bathed in queerness, nobody’s perfect.

I coped with the uncomfortable realization that I was 100% on board with Venom’s weirdly sensual slither into Eddie’s life (I’m really exposing myself here. Goodbye, dignity. I hardly knew ye.) like any tried and true queer shipper: opening AO3 and sorting by kudos. Sadly, this was also right at the tail end of Tumblr allowing adult content. We barely got a taste of Symbrock fever before the opportunity was ripped away. RIP to all the fallen Symbrock art and all the potential never realized. We could have been drowning in reblogs of artfully crafted tentacles.

Attitudes toward Valentine’s Day range from annoyance to apathy to elation to boiling rage. I mainly regard it like I do almost all holidays: an excuse to plan a menu and luxuriate in whatever food I want like a Dionysian Ina Garten and choose the best film for the occasion. And why be a traditionalist when you could delight in the sublimely weird and offbeat?

However you’re spending this Friday, consider snuggling up (to a cat, a partner, a friend, to yourself, I SUPPORT YOU) with one of my favorite love stories: the tale of a very special disaster boy who met his life partner symbiote.

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