[ gwen laughs, not unkindly. ]

I’m from New York. Complaining is a love language. If you’re uncomfortable, please complain; I’ll only be offended if you don’t tell me.

[ she bends down, her back to blue so he can grab her around the shoulders. she picks him up piggyback. if they run into an emergency, she can shift him up to a fireman’s carry or have venom lend a hand (or a tentacle) again. but she is tentatively hopeful that they can avoid being noticed this time.

stepping up to the door, gwen eases it open with her foot. ]

Let Peter know we’re on our way. [ —and off they go. ]