Chapter 1 - Good Deeds
A/N: Nickelodeon and Chris Savino own The Loud House and related characters. No copyright infringement intended. This story is a work of fiction written under the fair use policy.
The home at 1216 Franklin Avenue was beginning to look quite festive.
Decorations adorned the front porch, both old and new. Lights blinked, and tinsel glistened. A warm glow emanated from the windows. The most obvious indicator of the coming holiday, however, was the joyful noise coming from within.
It was nearing Christmas, and the children were on their holiday break.
The entire family, filled with the holiday spirit, were busy trying to coax hints out of each other as to what they may want for Christmas. Some were rather blatant about their attempts. Others were more subtle. Good deeds were being done by all, in hopes of garnering favor with the man in the red suit.
Life in the Loud house was always chaotic. The holidays were no exception. It was no surprise then that some of the children's chores had gone undone.
"Lincoln!" yelled Rita from her upstairs inspection. "I told you to clean your room!"
"I'll get right on that!" Lincoln replied loudly from the kitchen, where he was sampling some of his father's freshly baked cookies.
Lincoln was usually reasonably prompt with his chores. However, for the past two days, he had been understandably distracted. His room was a mess. There were several piles of unwashed clothes on the floor, magazines and comics were everywhere, and his bed was unmade.
Lola Loud, Lincoln's younger sister, poked her head into the room as their mother, Rita, left for other inspections.
"Gee," she thought to herself. "What a mess!"
A plan began to form inside the girl's mind. So far, she had been unable to determine what her dear brother wanted for Christmas, and it occurred to her that she might find the answer within his walls.
"I know," she said to herself. "I'll clean Lincoln's room for him! That way, I can see what he does and doesn't have!"
Lola stepped into the room just as Lincoln reached the top of the stairs.
"Whoa there, Lols," he said. "What do you think you're doing? You can't just go into my room like that."
The little princess batted her eyes. "It's alright, Lincy!" she cooed. "I'm going to clean it for you! My treat!"
The boy stood there for a moment, scratching his head. "Um, okay," he replied. "Just don't go snooping."
"I wouldn't dream of it!" exclaimed Lola as she closed the door on Lincoln.
"I have a bad feeling about this," he sighed, walking back downstairs.
Lola got to work putting the dirty clothes in the hamper, picking up and organizing his books, and making his bed. She even cleaned and rearranged his dresser top. Once things seemed to be in order, she turned to leave, but something caught her eye.
"Crap," she thought. "I forgot about cleaning under the bed.
She reached under the bed and pulled out a vast array of things. Among the pile were dirty underwear, some old skates, one of Luna's past guitars, and a pink box.
Disgustedly, she tossed the undergarments into the hamper and set the skates upright under the edge of the bed. The guitar she put behind her, intending to throw it away. She saw no reason to keep it.
Her attention then focused on the box. It was pink, after all. She wondered what was in it. Lola had promised not to snoop, but the pink box was calling her name. Looking back to ensure that the door was locked, she gently peeled the lid open.
With the contents revealed, she peered in and instinctively did a double-take. Inside were a great many pictures. She picked one up and looked at it. It was a picture of her at one of her pageants. Putting the image down, she examined a few more. They were all of her, every last one. Some were of her performing her ribbon dance or highlighted her moments on the catwalk. There were even a few of her accepting various awards, trophies, and tiaras.
"This is weird," she thought.
Intrigued, she continued digging. At the bottom of the pile, she found a magazine, which she cautiously pulled out of the box. The front cover showed a scantily-clad blonde in a rather odd pose. She read the title of the magazine.
"Playground?" she read silently. "What kind of book is this?"
Nervously, she began thumbing through the pages. As she did, her eyes widened dramatically. Page after page of nude women, displaying their bodies, was before her. Both disgusted and entranced, she continued the perusal.
Some of the pages were a bit sticky, however, and she skipped those pages, not wanting to rip the book. If she had, Lincoln would have surely known she'd gone snooping.
Eventually, she came to the middle of the magazine, where a page appeared folded. Unfurling the page, she realized she was looking at a center-fold. The lady in the image was a petite blonde wearing a pink dress. The woman was staring intently at the reader, her bright blue eyes sparkling like diamonds. Her dress had somehow come off her shoulders, and her skirt bunched up around her waist. Although it was interesting to look at, that wasn't what caught Lola's eye. It was the writing.
Somebody had penned in a tiara atop the lady's head, drawn hearts all around her face, and written "Lola" on the page. As Lola studied the page, it did seem that the lady bore quite the resemblance to herself. As she sat, staring, her body began to feel warm and tingly, which made her uncomfortable. Still, she pressed on.
While the first half of the book was relatively benign, the second half held several shocks of disgust for the young girl. The woman predominately being featured in this issue had maintained reasonably classy poses up until now. After the centerfold, however, things degraded quickly.
The latter half of the book was a progressive pictorial, showing the blonde and a young man in various stages of sex. The more pages she turned, the redder her face got. Towards the end, things had deteriorated into something beyond her comprehension. The man was using the bathroom on her, and she was smearing it everywhere!
"Don't worry, mom," Lola heard Lincoln say, coming towards his room. "I'll get it!"
Quickly, she stuffed the magazine into her dress, slammed the lid back on the box, and pushed it under the bed with her foot.
"Uh, why is my door locked, Lola?" Lincoln called out.
Lola stood and unlocked the door. "Sorry, Linc. I didn't want any interruptions."
The little girl made to leave to the room when Lincoln asked, "What about the guitar? Why is it out?"
"Oh, right," said Lola. "I was going to throw it out. It's broken."
"Nah," stammered Lincoln, placing the guitar back under his bed. "It was a gift from Luna. I think I'll keep it."
"Uh, okay," said Lola as she turned and hastily made for her bedroom and stashed her prize under her mattress before heading downstairs for more merriment.
After watching a few Christmas specials with the family, they heard the call to dinner and rushed to the table. Lynn Sr. had prepared a grand meal for them. On the table sat the biggest turkey they'd ever seen, and there were several bowls of side fixings, including all the children's favorites.
"What are you waiting for?" asked Mr. Loud. "Dig in!
For the next hour, kids and parents alike ate numerous helpings. Finally, becoming stuffed, they all sat back in their chairs and talked about whatever came to mind.
"Those were the best mac-n-cheese bites you ever made, dad!" exclaimed Lincoln.
"Well, thanks, son," said Mr. Loud.
"Your lasagna was littery the best!" complimented Lori.
"The fowl was a bit dry, perhaps," admitted Lisa, "but tasty none-the-less."
It was Luan's turn to speak. "Is nobody going to address the elephant in the room?"
"Oh my god! There's an elephant?" gasped Leni. "Where?"
"No, Leni," responded Luan. "I meant, there are no presents under the tree yet!"
Mrs. Loud chuckled. "Don't worry, guys. I'm sure there will be tons under it soon. Christmas isn't for another few days."
"Speaking of which," began Lynn Sr., "does everybody know what they're getting for each other?"
All around the table, the children nodded, except Lola, who went blank.
As dinner broke, Lori and Leni assisted with the clearing of the table, while the rest scattered throughout the house. Lola went upstairs to get ready for bed.
Lola first went to the bathroom and used the facilities, then hopped into bed. As she lay there, trying to fall asleep, her mind returned to the contents of the magazine that resided between her mattresses.
She closed her eyes and brought the images up once again. Lincoln, it seemed, had an interest in this book, and in her. At first, it disgusted her. At the same time, her body became warm and tingly again. Was it the nakedness or the filthy parts that aroused her? She wasn't sure. However, if her twin, Lana, was any indication, maybe there was something to it.
Lola pushed those thoughts aside as she queued up the image of the center-fold. Lincoln had written her name there. She wondered if he had feelings for her. If so, did he want to be gross with her? She shuddered.
Lola loved her brother, perhaps more than the rest. There was no denying that. But she couldn't imagine doing anything like that with him. Sure, he was cute, and he helped her prepare for pageants. However, he seemed to like her more than she did him. Or was it the other way around?
She couldn't help but imagine herself and Lincoln in place of the two in the magazine. One moment she wanted to vomit, the next moment she wanted more. She was confused. It made no sense to her and needed help understanding it all.
Lola sighed silently to herself and made a decision. Tomorrow, she'd go to the only other person she knew that might be able to shed some light on things: Lindsay Clearwater.
Once Lana had come to bed as well, Lola let go of the troubling thoughts and drifted off the sleep.
The next morning, Lola awoke to the heat of sunbeams lighting upon her face. She'd slept in again. Perhaps her mind had wandered during the night and needed to recuperate. She didn't recall having any dreams, but that was common.
The little girl hopped out of bed and got dressed. She then found her bookbag and emptied its contents into a drawer. After looking around to make sure nobody would see, she slipped the magazine from between her mattresses and into the bag. Lola also dropped in one of her prized tiaras. She donned the bookbag and went downstairs. It looked like breakfast was over, and everyone was going their own way.
"Oh well," she thought. "I'll worry about eating later."
She then headed out the front door and hurried off down the road in her pink battery-driven car. She passed house after house and made several turns along the way. She knew where Lindsay lived. Not because they were friends, but because they were rivals. It was always beneficial to know your enemy. This time, however, fighting was not on her mind. This outing was a reconnaissance mission.
She passed by a man, mowing his front lawn, who waved to her. She kindly returned the gesture but did not stop. Had she done so, she might not have made it to Lindsay's house, for the man leered hungrily at her as she sped off.
Another few turns and a lot more houses later, she finally arrived at the Clearwater residence. Purposefully, she parked her car in front of the house and made her way to the door, where she knocked resolutely.
Mrs. Clearwater answered the door. "Hello there," she said. "May I help you?"
"Yes, ma'am," spoke Lola respectfully. "I'm Lola Loud, and I'm here to see Lindsay."
"Oh, okay," the woman replied. "She upstairs in her room. First door on the right."
"Thank you," said Lola before heading up the stairs and knocking on the door.
The door opened, and Lindsay stood before Lola, her hair in curlers. Lindsay looked Lola up and down suspiciously.
"What are you doing here," Lindsay spat. "Shouldn't you be somewhere else, trying to look pretty?"
Lola almost sent out a retort but thought better of it. She was there for a reason. Instead, she pushed past Lindsay, into the room, and closed the door.
"Lindsay," she began. "I desperately need your help."
The slightly older girl folded her arms and scowled at Lola. "Why should I help you with anything?"
Lola swung her bag around and pulled out her tiara. "I'll give you this," she said. "It's from the one time I beat you."
"Now, why would I want a second-hand tiara?" Lindsay queried.
Lola thought for a moment. "Okay, how about this. If you help me, I won't compete in the Christmas pageant."
Lindsay considered the proposal for a moment and agreed. "Fine. Have a seat. What's this all about?"
The young girl reached into her bag once more, this time pulling out the magazine and placing it on the bed. Lindsay stared at it.
"It's just a Playground magazine," she observed. "So what?"
"You know what it is?" asked Lola.
"Of course I do," Lindsay snapped. "Dad's got tons of them, although I'm not supposed to know about them. Grown men seem to like them."
"Well, this one is different," informed Lola. "Go on. Take a look through it."
Lindsay reluctantly picked the magazine up and browsed through it from cover to cover. Sighing, she tossed it back on the bed.
"Well," admitted Lindsay. "It wasn't that different from the ones I've seen. The only weird thing is the writing in it. Whoever it belongs to is obsessed with you, possibly even in love."
"In love?" repeated Lola.
"Yeah. Say, who does it belong to anyway?" asked Lindsay. "I hope it's not one of the judges."
"No. It belongs to, well, never you mind," said Lola.
"Okay then," acknowledged Lindsay. "Just don't be getting all cozy with the judges."
"What do you mean?" asked Lola.
Lindsay squinted her eyes at the younger girl. "You truly don't know, do you?"
"Know what?" inquired Lola.
Lindsay sighed and began to explain. "For all your boasting, you're clueless. How do you think I keep winning? It isn't my looks, doll. You're way prettier than I'll ever be." She then pointed at the magazine. "It's because I do this stuff with the judges."
"What?!" Lola gasped. "Isn't it gross?"
"Maybe a little, at first," Lindsay confided. "But you get used to it, and then you like it. After a while, it's the only thing on your mind. You end up craving it."
"Oh," said Lola, turning for the door. "Well, thanks. I think I'd better go now."
Lindsay stopped her by grabbing her shoulders. "Don't ever tell anybody what I just told you," she said forcefully, then with more emotion, "please? It would make more trouble than it's worth."
Touched by her sincere tone, Lola complied. "I promise, Lindsay. I won't say a thing.
"Wait," shot Lindsay. "What are you going to do? You know, about this guy?"
"I'm not sure yet," admitted Lola.
"Do you love him?" asked the older girl.
"I...I...I...," stammered Lola. Did she? She thought about all the time he'd put everything aside for her. She recalled all the books he'd read on the pageantry business as well, not to mention storytime. He did it all, with a smile, and without complaint. It was then that Lola realized something. She gathered her confidence and answered Lindsay. "Yes. I do."
"Then we have some work to do," Lindsay said, opening her closet. "I think I have some older clothes in here that will fit you."
Soon, the younger girl was wearing Lindsay's hand-me-downs, which consisted of bubblegum-pink shorts, a teal belt, and an oversized white tank top with a unicorn on it. Lindsay also threw in some pink Converse with white filly socks. Standing back, she admired her work.
"You look so much hotter in that," Lindsay smiled. "Now, let's fix your hair."
A few moments later, Lola was looking at herself in the vanity mirror. She was stunned. Her hair was perfectly brushed and pulled back into twin pony-tails.
Lindsay patted Lola on the butt. "Now, go get him, but don't forget this," she said. Lindsay handed her the bookbag after repacking the magazine and the tiara. "You better be there for the Christmas pageant. It won't be the same without you," Lindsay said encouragingly.
Lola graciously said her goodbyes and walked out of the house. She hopped into her car and drove towards home, reversing her previous route.
When she passed the man, tending to his lawn, once again, he not only waved but addressed her.
"Hey there, cutie," he said playfully. "You look nicer than earlier."
"Thank you, mister," Lola replied courteously, then continued her journey home.
"Wait," he called out, "come back!"
"No time," shouted Lola.
A while later, she pulled into the family driveway and parked her car and made her way in the back door.
"Lola!' snapped Rita. "Where've you been?"
"Uh, I just went to Lindsay's house for a few," she replied.
"That Clearwater kid?" asked Lola's mother. "By yourself? You know you aren't supposed to go that far alone!"
"I'm sorry, mom," whimpered Lola. "But, it was kind of important and private."
"Next time, tell me first," Rita said. "Now, up to your room. You still have to clean it."
"Oh, right," acknowledged the little girl before heading upstairs.
Lynn Sr. raised an eyebrow as he watched his daughter leave the kitchen.
"Honey," he said, "wasn't she wearing something different when she left?"