#penelope 005.

[owensfitzpatrick]

where: colleen fitzpatrick’s home who: @penelxpebradley​ & owen fitzpatrick

“Alright, alright! I’ll fuckin’ answer it, don’t get your panties in a goddamn twist!” Owen yelled over his Aunt Erin, who was already a couple of drinks in and getting particularly rowdy -- which, admittedly, was kind of on-part for when seven o’clock rolled around; the older men eating their fresh ham and potatoes in the living room while they watched football highlights, the women and cousins dispersed around the kitchen and the rest of the house to crack some jokes or gossip, or simply hang out in one of the bedrooms that had been abandoned by Colleen’s sons long ago when they’d moved out. Nursing a beer in his hand, Owen made his way towards the front door as he waved off Erin’s words about him being an ungrateful son of a bitch. “Yeah, well, that bitch you’re talkin’ ‘bout is your sister in law, so treat fuckin’ lightly.” A couple of the Fitzpatricks, including him, began to laugh in response to his quip, the grin still plastered on his face as he opened the door.

Brows immediately shot up, smile softening. “Pen,” the name left his lips as soon as he saw her, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. He hadn’t expected her to come -- in fact, he thought the opposite would happen -- and yet, there she was. Clear as day. “Couldn’t stay away that long, could ya?” he teased. 

[veeferro]

where: penelope’s apartment who: @penelxpebradley​ & veronica ferro

They hadn’t been spending much time with one another recently, mostly because they’d both had been settling into their respective blooming relationships and spending time with their significant others -- which, Veronica would have been more pleased about had the redhead not been shaking up with a certain ex of hers. In the doctor’s opinion, Penelope could do a lot better than a deli owner with a chip on his shoulder and a bad attitude, but alas nothing was going to change and, at this point, Vee was just happy that her friend was happy. “Okay, so, like, I know that your boyfriend is into the whole ‘ex con’ look,” she began after setting her purse down on the kitchen counter, followed by a bottle of white wine, “but that doesn’t mean that his ‘fashion choices’ have to extend to you. Is this a cry for help? If you’re being held captive, just, like, blink twice or something.”