Flash & Jake: Marvel late night
Flash spent most of his nights as Venom. It meant he didn't need a social life and he could help people. Two birds, one stone. The most satisfying thing was he was gaining a reputation for being a super hero. People on his patrol routes started behaving a lot better, cops sometimes hailed him down to say hello or ask if he had seen anything and he even got a couple thank-you kisses. Venom even made some extra cash working security for anyone to the museums transporting old valuable shit to science labs with chemicals a mad motherfuck would steal to blow shit up.
What would have been a pretty shit life in a wheelchair was turning into something good. People started calling him Black-Spider, Bro-Spider, Spider-Soldier and Goop. He'd tell them It's Venom, dude and they'd look at him like they didn't fucking get it. The Spider thing used to get under his skin, but he figured there were so many people around now with spider powers that they were some kind of loosely bonded team. Even if he didn't really gel with the morals or whatever the fuck, it was nice to be in a team. So whatever, if people called him Spider, he'd get over it.
After checking the usual places for purse snatchers and drug dealers, Flash started swinging towards the edge of his patrol territory. He caught sight of a young dude streaking paint across old concrete. Taggers were way below his fucking paygrade, but it wouldn't hurt to shoo them the fuck off.
The sound of water splashing could be heard, like someone throwing out a bucket of suds, and Venom landed on the streetlamp above. "Hey, dude." Venom said, crouching on the metal beam that looked like it should be buckling under his weight because of how massive he was. "You probably shouldn't be tagging shit, man."