Comics are a thirsty, queer-as-fuck medium even when they claim they’re not. 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.Īt 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. 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.
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