Memory Share
Sep. 13th, 2017 02:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
threatenwithcuteness
Memory Share Links
Hair Dye | First Bra | Mother's Day
Lola's Headcanon Memories + Links to Clips.
Lola Scenes - 301 | Lola Scenes - 302 | Lola Scenes - 303
Lola Scenes - 304 | Lola Scenes - 305 | Lola Scenes - 306
Lola Scenes - 307 | Lola Scenes - 308 | Lola Scenes - 310
Lola Scenes - 301 | Lola Scenes - 302 | Lola Scenes - 303
Lola Scenes - 304 | Lola Scenes - 305 | Lola Scenes - 306
Lola Scenes - 307 | Lola Scenes - 308 | Lola Scenes - 310
Hair Dye
I read the instructions on the box quickly, before glancing back up at my work in the mirror. I was a young thing, obviously cute but clearly a child then, drunk on the experience these ten years on this earth had given me. Pink tank top covered in unicorns and skin alive in a way adults praise and envy.
The color was darker, probably because my hair was so wet. Not the lavender on the box. The same purple was all over the counter and my gloves. I'd done my best to keep the color off my neck and forehead but I wasn't very good at it. I quickly mopped it up with a towel. A white towel, so stupid of me. I looked down at the floor littered with little clippings of hair. My hair was everywhere. Tiny clippings of dark brown hair all over the floor.
I heard the door swing open before I turned to face him. He was big, and mad, but holding that back as he sureveyed my damage. His voice was a controlled growl of spanish, "What did you do, child?"
He crouched down, getting face to face with me. Moving my head back and forth to see what I had done. His face was stern, he wanted his answer.
"They kept saying I look like her." I said, defiantly, in English. I didn't look away. I didn't cry. I did this, I did this and I was okay doing this. So maybe my hair wasn't even, and maybe I didn't know how to bleach it quite right.
He frowned at that, I watched him study what I had done. I tracked his gaze as he studied the floor, the counters, me. He sighed, "It isn't a bad thing, looking like her."
"But nobody sees me!" I stamped my foot on the footstool I was using. Crossed my arms, and dared him to argue. "They just see the bitch that left."
His eyes were more sad than angry at my choice of words, my choice of language. "She's still your mother. But... I think I like the purple on you. We will take you to the salon so they can fix everything else you did. If you're going to insist on cutting your hair, at least learn to do it even. Now I expect you to clean this mess up and be in bed in half an hour. Understood?"
I nodded, slowly, and went for a fresh, clean towel. He snatched it away before I could get my purple paw prints all over it. "The towel you already ruined, sweetie."
Index Page | First Bra | Mother's Day
The color was darker, probably because my hair was so wet. Not the lavender on the box. The same purple was all over the counter and my gloves. I'd done my best to keep the color off my neck and forehead but I wasn't very good at it. I quickly mopped it up with a towel. A white towel, so stupid of me. I looked down at the floor littered with little clippings of hair. My hair was everywhere. Tiny clippings of dark brown hair all over the floor.
I heard the door swing open before I turned to face him. He was big, and mad, but holding that back as he sureveyed my damage. His voice was a controlled growl of spanish, "What did you do, child?"
He crouched down, getting face to face with me. Moving my head back and forth to see what I had done. His face was stern, he wanted his answer.
"They kept saying I look like her." I said, defiantly, in English. I didn't look away. I didn't cry. I did this, I did this and I was okay doing this. So maybe my hair wasn't even, and maybe I didn't know how to bleach it quite right.
He frowned at that, I watched him study what I had done. I tracked his gaze as he studied the floor, the counters, me. He sighed, "It isn't a bad thing, looking like her."
"But nobody sees me!" I stamped my foot on the footstool I was using. Crossed my arms, and dared him to argue. "They just see the bitch that left."
His eyes were more sad than angry at my choice of words, my choice of language. "She's still your mother. But... I think I like the purple on you. We will take you to the salon so they can fix everything else you did. If you're going to insist on cutting your hair, at least learn to do it even. Now I expect you to clean this mess up and be in bed in half an hour. Understood?"
I nodded, slowly, and went for a fresh, clean towel. He snatched it away before I could get my purple paw prints all over it. "The towel you already ruined, sweetie."
Bra Shopping
"Please do this."
"But she's your kid, why don't you do it?"
I sat, kicking my legs in the booth. Looking down at my freshly pink nails. Looking around at the pink, blue, and purple of the walls. Listening as grown-ups fought.
"I can't do this, she's a little girl. Some things I just can't help her with," He sounded so defeated as he said it. I could hear the creaking of his office chair as he sat in the other room. "Please, I'm paying you overtime and tips to do this."
"...You're lucky she's so cute, fine." Her heels clicked as she walked out. The woman was young, early twenties at the oldest, and probably a little younger. Pretty even in her uniform. A simple pair of black slacks with a purple shirt. 'Lola's Cantina' written where a pocket would go on a nicer shirt. Hair pulled back and out of the way. She reached a hand out to me. "Come on, we're going shopping on your dad's nickel. We can go nuts."
"I heard that!"
The walk to the store was quick, holding her hand the entire time. "Samantha."
"Yeah?"
"Is dad mad at me?" I looked up, she made a face I didn't get. Of course she had stuff around her eyes and her lips that were pretty colors, but distracting.
"He's not mad at you, he's just too much of a guy to learn how to do these things. So I'll be teaching you." Her look was kind but... tired. Yes, tired is the word.
"What do you mean 'too much of a guy'?"
"He's your dad, and he's not sure what to do with you turning into a young woman. And instead of learning and facing this fact he's left me to walk you through this. Kinda like how I showed you to paint your nails. And when you're a little older I'll show you how to do all this." She gestured to the red on her lips and the blue under her eyes. "But for now you've go to wear an extra layer under your shirt."
Index Page | Hair Dye | Mother's Day
"But she's your kid, why don't you do it?"
I sat, kicking my legs in the booth. Looking down at my freshly pink nails. Looking around at the pink, blue, and purple of the walls. Listening as grown-ups fought.
"I can't do this, she's a little girl. Some things I just can't help her with," He sounded so defeated as he said it. I could hear the creaking of his office chair as he sat in the other room. "Please, I'm paying you overtime and tips to do this."
"...You're lucky she's so cute, fine." Her heels clicked as she walked out. The woman was young, early twenties at the oldest, and probably a little younger. Pretty even in her uniform. A simple pair of black slacks with a purple shirt. 'Lola's Cantina' written where a pocket would go on a nicer shirt. Hair pulled back and out of the way. She reached a hand out to me. "Come on, we're going shopping on your dad's nickel. We can go nuts."
"I heard that!"
The walk to the store was quick, holding her hand the entire time. "Samantha."
"Yeah?"
"Is dad mad at me?" I looked up, she made a face I didn't get. Of course she had stuff around her eyes and her lips that were pretty colors, but distracting.
"He's not mad at you, he's just too much of a guy to learn how to do these things. So I'll be teaching you." Her look was kind but... tired. Yes, tired is the word.
"What do you mean 'too much of a guy'?"
"He's your dad, and he's not sure what to do with you turning into a young woman. And instead of learning and facing this fact he's left me to walk you through this. Kinda like how I showed you to paint your nails. And when you're a little older I'll show you how to do all this." She gestured to the red on her lips and the blue under her eyes. "But for now you've go to wear an extra layer under your shirt."
Mother's Day
"Lo, come sit with us. Mom doesn't mind." The girl in front of me is beautiful. At least her face is, her body looks like it's been stretched wrong, hasn't grown into its new height. All gangly limbs and a huge curly mess of dark hair.
"No, my mom will be here soon." I lied, and sat by the door and waited, phone in hand. There was a large sign by the door 'Mother's Day Tea at Degrassi Community School.' The tables were filled with mothers and daughters. Sitting, laughing, smiling, and talking. Some tables had girls who clearly were not the daughters of the older women sitting there. They looked so uncomfortable, so sad.
A door opening across the gym drew my attention. She had a round face, a sweatervest and a skirt. Her dark hair in a single braid down one shoulder as she slipped out of the room. Nobody else was looking at her, so nobody stopped her leaving. And most weren't at the right angle to see the boy she was leaving with.
My phone buzzed in my hand and I looked down, a transfer of 60 dollars into my account. I dismissed the notification to see the one under it.
Mom: "Sorry I can't make it, my new boyfriend has tickets for a concert. I hope you can have fun with your friends at school."
I squeezed the phone a little tighter in my hand. I waited for a few moments and made my way to the door. Walking as fast as I could without running.
"Lo, wait!" A voice called out, the same pretty gangly girl from before, "Come sit with me and my mom."
"Leave me alone Shay, go have fun with your stupid tea." At that point I just ran, not even pretending I was leaving on my own accord.
Index Page | Hair Dye | First Bra
"No, my mom will be here soon." I lied, and sat by the door and waited, phone in hand. There was a large sign by the door 'Mother's Day Tea at Degrassi Community School.' The tables were filled with mothers and daughters. Sitting, laughing, smiling, and talking. Some tables had girls who clearly were not the daughters of the older women sitting there. They looked so uncomfortable, so sad.
A door opening across the gym drew my attention. She had a round face, a sweatervest and a skirt. Her dark hair in a single braid down one shoulder as she slipped out of the room. Nobody else was looking at her, so nobody stopped her leaving. And most weren't at the right angle to see the boy she was leaving with.
My phone buzzed in my hand and I looked down, a transfer of 60 dollars into my account. I dismissed the notification to see the one under it.
Mom: "Sorry I can't make it, my new boyfriend has tickets for a concert. I hope you can have fun with your friends at school."
I squeezed the phone a little tighter in my hand. I waited for a few moments and made my way to the door. Walking as fast as I could without running.
"Lo, wait!" A voice called out, the same pretty gangly girl from before, "Come sit with me and my mom."
"Leave me alone Shay, go have fun with your stupid tea." At that point I just ran, not even pretending I was leaving on my own accord.