(The following is a nonprofit work of fanfiction and is outside of the original canon. All names, characters, businesses, places, events, and/or incidents of any kind depicted within this story are being used for entertainment purposes only.)
(The Loud House and all related characters were created by Chris Savino and all rights belong to Nickelodeon.)
"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." – Ferris Bueller's Day Off.
- Chapter One -
A Nostalgic Yearning
Royal Woods, Michigan. January 21st, 2017.
1216 Franklin Avenue, The Loud House...
Lincoln Albert Loud sat down in the center of the living room couch, one leg crossed over the other, his spine relaxing against the cushioned back pillows. He stared blankly at the sixty-inch flat screen television set in front of him, all the while flipping through each channel with the state-of-the-art remote in his hand. This high-quality piece of technology had more than four hundred stations, and yet there was not a single decent program on today.
He could catch a quick look at the news, but then he quickly dismissed that idea from his thoughts all together. The last thing he wanted right now was to listen to one-sided narratives and watch old and tired politicians going back and forth over small things that were not even worth going crazy over. It was all just so exhausting, both emotionally and mentally. Brand new year, same old nonsense, he thought to himself.
He glanced down at his wristwatch. It was almost half past five in the evening. He exhaled deeply from boredom before massaging his brows. That feeling was slightly elevated when he suddenly remembered the event that played out just the other night. As he was flipping through the channels, he unexpectedly came across something he thought he would never be around to see in his entire life.
It was of Channel 7's news coverage of what appeared to be Donald Trump's inauguration as the forty-fifth President of the United States, right after winning the election battle against opposing political candidate, Hillary Clinton. From just thinking about that one memory, Lincoln could not help but chuckle to himself a little bit and then he shook his head at the complete irony of the whole thing.
Do not get the wrong idea though, Lincoln was not the kind of person who cared that much when it came to the subject of politics. As far back when he was old enough to remember, he barely paid any attention to that kind of stuff. And whatever kind of political viewpoint he did have as an adult, he would try to keep it mostly to himself, and very seldom did he openly express said opinion, except for maybe an occasion or two when the given situation would call for it, which was very rare.
In fact, the closest experience Lincoln ever had with politics was when at one point, he tried to run for class president back at Middle School. To keep a long explanation short, the entire ordeal did not go very well for him. He smiled after thinking about that one of the many notable memories of his early youth. Hard to believe that was only thirty years ago. And then it suddenly began to dawn on him. His shoulders loosened up and he pressed his back further against the couch.
Thirty years... Wow. Just... wow.
He could not believe just how long it had been since then. Felt like it had been only yesterday when he was just a young boy. And now look at him, just a few months away from turning forty-two and he was still living in his childhood house–his own house now, by the way–with a beautiful wife and two adorable kids, twins to be precise. And he was now the new owner of his father's family restaurant, Lynn's Table.
He recalled looking in the mirror one afternoon and gazing deeply at his own reflection. He was now roughly the same height as his dad, and he had a slim-looking physique. It was a ding dang miracle that he still had all of his snow-white hair on his head at this point in time. What was really extraordinary to him, and to the rest of the family, was how young-looking he seemed to be as well.
Despite being forty-one years old, he still appeared like he was somewhere close to his mid-thirties, even though there were a couple of small wrinkles found here and there on his face. Who knew that he and his family were blessed with really good genetics? Lincoln was then brought back to the present when he noticed from the left-side corner of his eyes a small unopened bag of nacho cheese Doritos sitting on the lamp table next to the couch.
Huh..., I wonder who left that there? His mouth began to salivate a little, and he shrugged his shoulders.
"Eh, why not?" he muttered aloud.
He reached his hand over to the side and grabbed the bag from the lamp table. He tried to gently pull open the bag from the sides, but he found both to his confusion and surprise that the bag did not open so easily. What the...? He put a little more strength into it. Again, nothing. Lincoln furrowed his brows. What the heck was wrong with this thing? He tried to pull the bag open, this time with all of his might, but that little thing just would not open. Lincoln stared intensely at it, his bulging eyes screaming with irritation.
"So, that's how you want to play, huh?" he grunted at the small bag. And then before he knew it, he went from sitting dully on the couch scrolling through the television to falling on the floor in a WWE-style wrestling match with a bag of Doritos within a matter of seconds. He tried using his teeth to savagely tear it open. No budge. He pressed his foot down on one side of the bag against the coffee table and tried to rip the other side off. Nothing.
For two straight minutes, he tried every method he could think of off the top of his head to open that one stupid bag of chips, and what results did he get out of them? Anything but total success. In the end, Lincoln panted tiredly as he stared testily at the bag in his hands before finally giving up, tossing it down flat on the coffee table in front of him. He collapsed back onto the couch, his body now spent, and his two minutes of time wasted.
"Wasn't that hungry to begin with anyway," he snorted irritably, folding his arms across his chest. Before he could get the chance to pick up the remote, he suddenly became alert when he heard a loud thump that came from upstairs. It sounded like a medium-sized crate full of oranges had fallen against the floor. And then some yelling was thrown in for good measure. Lincoln exhaled under his breath as he gently massaged the bridge of his nose.
And just when things were starting to get nice and quiet around here. He then smirked with a small snort. But then again, that's kind of what happens when your family's last name is Loud. And so, he got up from the couch to his feet and marched up the stairway until he was now in the second-floor hallway. Using his ears, he deduced that the noise was coming from the halfway open door at the far end of the right side of the hall, which led towards... his childhood bedroom.
And here we go...
"Let go of my arm, Leia!" a young boy yelled, his voice sounding like it was just moments away from crying.
"Not until you actually fight back, Luke! You little snowflake!" responded a girl's voice quite roughly. As quick as a lightning bolt, Lincoln darted through the hallway towards the door and opened it inward as wide as he could make it and then launched himself inside.
"What the heck is going on in here?!" he exclaimed before catching a very not-so-pleasing sight displayed right in front of him; a twelve-year-old girl, with long blondish-white hair tied into a low ponytail, was pinning a young boy to the carpeted floor.
The boy appeared to be the same height and age as the girl and he too had blondish-white hair, but it was much shorter up to the neck. The girl had the boy's right arm pinned firmly behind his scrawny back. The girl looked up at Lincoln with a startled look, as if she had just been caught red-handed stealing a leftover sandwich from the refrigerator in the middle of the night. Lincoln's blood began to boil in his veins.
"Leia!" he barked. "You let go of your brother right this second!"
"B-But Dad!" Leia exempted, putting her hands up defensively. "It's not what it looks like!" But Lincoln was not in the mood of listening to whatever excuse she had at the moment.
"I said NOW!" he commanded firmly, keeping his hard gaze trained on his twelve-year-old daughter. Finally, the little girl's shoulders slumped in defeat and she stood up from her twin brother. The boy scrambled closely to his father's side and hugged the grown man tightly around the waste. As he held his son closely, Lincoln still kept his firm gaze locked on his daughter.
"Now, until I get to the bottom of this," he said, pointing an authoritative finger towards the opened door, "you march your little behind over to your room!"
"B-But Dad, I was just–" Lincoln gestured his hand up to silence her.
"Not! One! Word!" Lincoln sternly spoke. "I will come over and listen to your version when I'm finished here! Now march, young lady!" Realizing that anything she was trying to say was now futile, Leia Loud bowed her head low and she quietly walked on out of her twin brother's bedroom without another spoken word. Once after she had left, Lincoln looked down at the sobbing boy.
"You okay there, Luke?" the Loud father asked in a now calm voice, tenderly caressing his boy's blondish-white hair. Luke Loud gazed up at his father, fresh tears running down his face, and he nodded his head. "She didn't hurt you too badly, did she?"
"N-No...," the boy moaned, wiping a tear or two from his eyes. "N-Not really." Lincoln smiled.
"That's good to know," he said, patting his son's head. "Here, bud. Why don't we have a seat on the bed?" With that, Lincoln and Luke walked over to the boy's bed, which was located on the right side of the room next to Luke's computer desk and laptop. Lincoln sat on one side of the bed next to his twelve-year-old son and he wrapped his arm across his shoulder.
"Now, could you tell me exactly what was going on?" the father asked. "Why were you and Leia fighting?" After having calmed further down, Luke started twiddling with his fingers as he tried to think of what the first thing was to say.
"W-Well...," he began shyly. "We weren't fighting per say. I-I was just here in my r-room minding my own business, when all of a sudden, Leia came bursting inside. She looked at me with a very frustrated look on her face. She told me that she had heard about what happened the other day at school and so she went on saying she was t-tired of me being a scared little snowflake, m-making our family's image look bad."
"So, what exactly did happen the other day, son?" Lincoln asked curiously. Again, Luke tried to choose his next words very carefully.
"T-There is this girl in some of my classes," he began his story. "This entire week, she has done nothing but give me a hard time. Shoving me inside my own locker, splattering a mud pie in my face, you name it. It's just... It's just really frustrating that she keeps doing this to me. But the thing is, I don't know what to do about it."
"Does this girl have a name?" Lincoln asked curiously. Luke inclined his head into several nods.
"Y-Yeah," he confirmed rather meekly. "Her name is Charlotte McCann." Right upon hearing that last part of his son's sentence, Lincoln's blue eyes swelled in surprise, if not in shock. Did he hear that correctly? Did his son just say the name of what he actually thought he said? No way... It couldn't be... McCann... Now that was a name Lincoln had not heard in quite a long time now. A name that belonged to a certain somebody he knew back in their days at Royal Woods Elementary.
A certain somebody who happened to be an old and yet not-so-well-liked arch-rival of his. Chandler... It can't be a coincidence...
Suddenly, Lincoln found himself being transported back to memory lane and he mentally cringed upon remembering a large number of the age-old nonsense and similar pranks Chandler McCann used to pull on him when the two of them were still kids. Chandler was quite a character of a kid back then. In those days, he was regarded as one of the few popular kids in their elementary school. How a conceiting freeloader like him could even be considered popular, Lincoln would never know.
Apart from all of that, Chandler was also quite a bully and an annoying prankster, most of those two things aimed at both Lincoln and Clyde, along with some of their other friends. Well, mostly Lincoln. But then, all of that changed when in the summer of 1993, Chandler and his family packed up all of their belongings and moved away over to Great Lakes City for some reason. Much to Lincoln's great relief, he never saw nor heard a single peep from that redheaded jerk again since then.
Back in the present, a curious thought came to the Loud man's mind. Did Chandler actually move back home to Royal Woods? If that was the case, then when exactly did he do so? And also, just how in the ding dang world did he find the time to have a kid of his own? Lincoln then started to wonder just who the unlucky lady was that Chandler had roped into being his unwilling bride. Whoever she is, she has my deepest sympathies.
Based on everything Luke had just told him, this Charlotte girl seemed to have taken quite a few of these bullying traits from her old man. Guess the apple really did not fall that far away from the tree after all, assuming she actually was related to whom Lincoln thought she was.
"Have you thought about maybe asking a teacher or the principal for some help?" Lincoln inquired.
"You don't think I have tried already?" the boy told his father. "They b-barely do anything. They say they'll look into it, when really they just sit behind their desks sucking on orange wedges and drinking bad coffee." Lincoln's brows furrowed a little bit.
"Okay..., have you actually... you know... tried to stand up to this girl?" Luke's face almost became pale as his Aunt Lucy's when he heard what his father just said to him.
"Are you kidding, Dad?" he nearly exclaimed. "Charlotte would skin me alive if I did that! There is just no way that I would be able to! And besides, she's kind of stronger than me!" Luke looked away from his father and bowed his head low.
"I'm sorry, Dad! I... I just don't know how to deal with all that." Lincoln continued to gaze down at his twelve-year-old son, providing him with a sympathetic look.
"So anyway," Luke continued. "Leia somehow found out about it. I don't know how, but she did. Though, if I had to guess, I'd say she heard it from one of her friends or something. She came bursting into my bedroom, without even knocking by the way, and she said everything I mentioned earlier. So, she said that she was going to help toughen me up, get me into fighting shape. And... well, you pretty much saw what came of that."
Thinking about that moment, Lincoln's mind wondered back to thirty years ago, when his sports fanatic of a sister, Lynn, was doing pretty much the exact same thing to him, in terms of trying to toughen her brother up and teach him how to fight back against bullies. Lynn may have seen herself as like The Karate Kid sometime after another, but knowing his sister's personality, she would have made a great candidate for Cobra Kai instead. Boy, how things have changed since then.
Okay, maybe not all of it. Coming back to the present day, Lincoln caressed his son's blondish-white hair again.
"I understand where you are coming from, son...," he said, as it was now his turn to choose his own next words carefully. "And please, don't take this the wrong way, I am not excusing what your sister just did, but you have to understand that, in more ways than one, she kind of has a point–about one thing anyway; you cannot allow yourself to be afraid and get picked on forever." Luke looked up at the Loud patriarch with a stunned expression.
"But Dad, I–" Lincoln gently raised his index finger up to make his son be quiet for a moment.
"And one of these days," Lincoln continued on, "you will have to learn how to be brave and stand up for yourself–and I don't mean by getting into a fistfight. That is the last thing I want you to do. What I'm trying to say is that you need to stand firm and hold your ground, no matter if the odds are stacked against you. It's okay to feel a little bit scared sometimes, son. But you cannot let that fear dictate every aspect of your life. You know what I'm saying?" The son looked up at his father and lightly nodded his head.
"A very wise man once said; It's okay to lose to an opponent–"
"–but one must not lose to fear," Luke finished reciting, a small smile beginning to take form on his face. "Sure thing, Mr. Miyagi." Lincoln chuckle lightly.
"That's my boy," the Loud father said before embracing his son into a gentle hug and then releasing him. "I'm going to go have a word with your sister now, okay?" With that, Lincoln got up from the edge of the bed and headed outside of the bedroom. Before shutting it closed, Lincoln turned back around to face his son.
"And don't forget what I told you, alright?" he said. "And remember that our family will always have your back."
Luke nodded again at his dad, feeling quite better now from their little discussion. And so, Lincoln calmly shut the door behind him. Now that he was outside, his smile morphed into a serious frown as he marched on over towards his daughter's bedroom across the second-floor hallway. When he reached the door that stood between two others—the door that led into what used to be his sisters' Lynn and Lucy's old bedroom—he knocked three times against the wooden frame.
"Leia!" he called out to the other side in a gentle yet firm tone. "I'm coming in." After straightening his orange button-up shirt and taking in a deep breath, Lincoln slowly but surely opened the door to see his daughter sitting on her bed, fearfully awaiting what her imminent fate was. Her little feet dangled from the edge, as she solemnly ate from a recently opened yet very familiar bag of nacho cheese Doritos.
Lincoln blinked a couple of times and gaped for a few seconds at the object within her hands. I swear, some supernatural force is at work against me.
Getting back on track, Lincoln sauntered within the bedroom, and he promptly grabbed the computer chair from his daughter's desk opposite from her bed and he sat in it right in front of Leia. He gently took the opened Doritos bag from her hands and placed it flat on her nightstand. Rather timidly, Leia looked up at her father, who gazed down at her with a very unamused countenance on his face, arms now folded across his chest. His four fingers drummed almost impatiently against his right bicep.
"Would you care to explain to me what you thought you were doing with your brother?" Lincoln asked in a calm voice that was evenly balanced out with a stern tone. "He's already told me his version of the story, now I want you to tell me yours! So, start talking!"
"Dad, please, it's not what you think!" Leia tried to explain. "I swear, I wasn't trying to hurt him!"
"Well, it very much appeared that way from where I was standing," Lincoln countered. "If that's not the case, then what were you trying to do exactly?" The young Loud girl rubbed her arm almost timidly.
"I-I was just helping him, Dad!" she told her father.
"Helping him?" Lincoln asked, with a single eyebrow raised. "You call pinning him to the floor 'helping' him? You call twisting his arm behind his back so he couldn't move and defend himself 'helping' him?"
"I was only trying to toughen him up a bit!" Leia nearly exclaimed innocently, her bottom lip beginning to quiver. "I just wanted what was best for my brother, that's all! You have to understand, he has this problem going on at school! There's this bully who keeps picking on him! Did he tell you about that?"
Lincoln conceded with a confirming nod. "Yes, he did."
"I heard about it from one of my friends, and it really, really made me upset!" Leia went on. "I couldn't just stand idly by while that Charlotte McCann girl walks all over him like he's some kind of helpless bug! So, I did what any good sibling would do and tried to help him out!"
"By behaving like a bully, yourself?" Lincoln asked, appearing like he wasn't buying a word she was saying. Leia speedily shook her head.
"Dad, please!" Leia cried. "You've got to believe me! I love my brother, and I just wanted to help him!" Finally, Leia could not contain it any longer and she hung her head low, fresh and warm tears bursting from her eyes and streaming down her face.
After a moment or two of silence, Lincoln's stern expression began to relax. He sighed under his breath, and he lightly shook his head. Decidedly, he stood up from the computer chair and sat down on the bed next to his daughter. He gently craned his arm around her small shoulders, pulling her closely to him until her head rested against his side. After about a minute, Leia started to calm down a little bit.
"Shh... There, there," Lincoln spoke softly. "Of course, I believe you, princess. And I do understand what you were only trying to do." Leia looked at her father in the blue eyes, a little bit taken aback to hear that from him.
"R-Really...?" she asked with a slight hitch in her voice. Lincoln nodded.
"Yes, really," he confirmed. "But that still did not make it okay for you to do what you did. Hurting your own brother like that was not the way to help solve his bully problem with that McCann girl. He's already got enough of that with her at school, and he certainly doesn't need another one put on his plate. Least of all from his own sister." Leia exhaled almost defeatedly before wiping off some of the tears from her reddened face.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," she muttered aloud. "... But still, I just can't stand the idea of him being such a little snowflake and letting others trample all over him."
"And I agree with you, honey," Lincoln concurred. Well, only half of it anyway. "But I really don't think calling him names and roughing him up like that was the option to go for. There are much better ways of helping him grow and be brave, you know. And also, did you really have to go that far to say that he was making our family look bad?" Leia thought about it for a moment, after wiping another tear from her face.
"Okay, y-yeah, that may have sounded a bit harsher than I thought, now that I think about it,"
"Oh, it sounded plenty more than just a 'bit harsher', Leia," Lincoln told her. "It sounded very... well, demeaning. You made him feel like he was inadequate, like the only thing he was good for was being an embarrassment to our family. That's the last thing I want him to feel like. What you have to understand, princess, is that words are just as powerful as sticks and stones are. He needs our emotional support just as much as he needs the physical."
After wiping a tear or two from her face, Leia looked back up at her father, her reddened blue eyes glistening from the light of the ceiling fan.
"You're right, Daddy," she muttered guiltfilly. "I'm sorry. I'm really, really, sorry."
"Don't tell me you're sorry," Lincoln said. "You should be telling that to Luke. He needs his sister, not another bully." Leia looked away and she hung her head low again, now feeling very ashamed of herself for what she did.
"I guess I should be grounded, huh?" she asked. Lincoln thought about it for a short moment, until he finally made his answer vocal as he smiled down at his little girl.
"Nah. I think I'm going to let you off the hook for now this time," he concluded. Leia smiled back at her father, and she embraced Lincoln into a tight hug around his chest. Lincoln wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the side of her head. Once after they separated from their embrace, his smile transformed back into that same serious frown from before.
"But if I so much as catch you doing something like that again," he said sternly, but not as much as before when he entered the room, "I guarantee, you will not be seeing your phone, your laptop, or our Nintendo for the next two weeks. And you will forget about going to your cousin Laura's birthday party this coming weekend. Do I make myself clear, young lady?" Leia nodded her blondish-white head obediently.
"Clear as crystal," she responded. "I promise, I will be better next time."
"That's my girl." Lincoln said, patting her head softly, before standing back up to his feet and kissing her on the side of her head a second time. Right before heading out the door, Lincoln turned around to face her one more time. "Your mother should be home in less than half an hour. We're going to order some pizza from Gus' Games & Grub for dinner tonight. Does that sound good?" Leia beamed brightly at her father, and she nodded excitedly. Lincoln snorted and nodded himself.
"Alrighty then, but just remember what I said to you, okay? Luke needs his sister, not another bully." With that, Lincoln closed the bedroom door behind him as he returned outside to the second-floor hallway. In that very moment, his shoulders started to relax, and he leaned his back against Leia's bedroom door. He exhaled deeply in tiredness and relief, before climbing back down the stairs to the living room and lazily plopping himself back onto the couch. He massaged the bridge of his nose.
Sheesh, Dad, he mentally said exhaustedly. And here I thought raising two kids would have been simple enough. If his father, Lynn Loud Sr., was in this very room with him right now, at this very moment, sitting on his favorite recliner chair closely next to his son, that man would most likely say to him with a chuckle and an added smile on his face, "Hey, at least you won't have to go through the trials and tribulations of having to raise eleven kids, like your mother and I had."
Lincoln snorted. Oh yeah? Well, being a parent of twins seem to have its own fair share of trials and tribulations.
In that moment, these thoughts prompted Lincoln to slowly gaze around the living room, eyeing every object, every piece of anything that was within his direct line of sight. The color of the living room rug, the old family photos that hung neatly on the walls above and around the fireplace or on the counter tops and shelves. A smile grew around Lincoln's face and every childhood moment in his young life instantly flashed within his mind.
This house... So many memories, he reminisced, sighing blissfully. A lot of those memories were good, which thankfully outweighed a small number of the bad. He remembered when these walls were painted a bright shade of pink, very vibrant and pastel, not like the insipid hue of beige like it was now. Standing peacefully on one shelf closely next to the fireplace was a framed photograph which surprisingly stood against the tests of time itself.
Upon a much closer inspection, it was a picture of Lincoln himself, when he was just eleven years old, holding his baby sister in his arms, her smiling chubby-cheeked face covered in applesauce. Hard to believe that Lily was only fifteen months old in that picture. Now, she was almost thirty-two, and had become one of the most talented and influential painters in Royal Woods. Lincoln let out a small chuckle before sighing blissfully again.
He and all ten of his sisters really did come a long way since they were just kids back in the 1980's. And now, all of them were living out their long-desired dreams and aspirations, despite some of the ups and downs that came along with them. And despite some of the madness their family had gone through back then, there were still times where Lincoln wished he could travel back into the past and re-live the days of his innocent and ignorant youth again.
Where is Dr. Emmett Brown and his time-traveling DeLorean when you need them? There were quite a few times when Luke and Leia heard him talk about the 80's with such fondness and longing, and the two of them would find themselves strongly curious about it.
"Dad, what was it like when you were a kid?" Luke had asked his father at one point before, a question Lincoln thought his son would never ask him. A question that almost brought a joyful tear in his eye. He recalled going on and on about a lot of the things he remembered experiencing while growing up in that one golden era that made up most of his childhood.
The way Lincoln described it to them, the social trends of that era, the style of clothes he and his sisters and other people wore, the music they had endlessly listened to, the technology that was available back then, the whole ding dang lot of it. The twins would find themselves very much enthralled by what their father told them. It was almost like he was describing something straight out of the pages of an old science fantasy story.
But even though there were a lot of upsides, Lincoln would be lying if he did not acknowledge—I certainly do now at least—that the 80's had quite a few of its fair share of the downsides as well. But Lincoln paid none of that stuff any attention, because he was mostly too preoccupied with being a normal kid and living his life to the fullest as possible like any other young boy his age at the time. Lincoln snorted through his nose.
If you can even call living under one roof in a family of thirteen people "normal". As the United States was too busy butting heads with the Soviet Union, he was up in his bedroom reading Superman comic books, wearing nothing but his socks and underwear. As the country was going through a major downturn not seen since the Great Depression, he and a few of his sisters were playing Super Mario Bros. on the Nintendo Entertainment System. That or playing old school Dungeons & Dragons with Clyde and their other friends.
When the Satanic Panic had spread across the news, Lincoln was playing out at Tall Timbers Park, pretending he was on the Forest Moon of Endor as Luke Skywalker from Star Wars. That explained quite a lot where his son and daughter's names came from. When the AIDS epidemic rolled around, he was either listening to Huey Lewis on his Sony Walkman or sitting right here in the living room watching Transformers, ThunderCats, and He-Man on Saturday mornings, all the while eating a bowl of whatever breakfast cereal he was in the mood for.
And yet despite hearing a certain number of the negatives that came along with the positives, Luke and Leia Loud did not find themselves being deterred by them, still feeling quite enthralled with their father's stories of his and their aunts' childhoods, regardless of what was happening across the world during that time.
"Wow, the 80's was quite something, wasn't it, Dad?" he recalled Leia asking him.
You have no idea, sweetheart, Lincoln thought to himself as he exhaled blissfully at the old childhood memories. And so, Lincoln carefully leaned his back against the couch, and folded his resting hands on his chest. With a strong sense of nostalgic yearning, he allowed his adult mind to be transported back down through memory lane, rewinding the mental video tape deep within the recesses of his mind all the way back thirty years ago to the beginning.
Back to the good old days of wildly large hair, head-to-toe neon spandex, shoulder pads, and totally radical music.
Back to a glorious time most famously known throughout the modern world as the 1980's...
Hello, everybody. Did all of you miss me? Cause I sure missed you. Man, it really has been a short while since my Spider-Man/Loud House crossover fic, hasn't it? In the last couple months since after, I had been struggling to figure out what story to do next. But then, while I was out at work one day, they started playing some classic 80's music in the background. Like, seriously 80's. I'm talking about Phil Collins, Mr. Mister, Toto, Huey Lewis, the Pointer Sisters, you name it.
After a while since, I couldn't get them out of my head. It didn't help that I found some pretty awesome 80's themed artwork on Google and around DeviantArt as well, the Loud House being part of them. And that is when it finally clicked in my brain. I found a new inspiration. Why don't I write a Loud House AU fanfic set in the 1980's?
And that was when Glam Rock & Leg Warmers was born. And believe me, you guys are going to be seeing a LOT of 80's references throughout this story, all the way from movies and video games to music and fashion–or at least as much as I'm able to put in anyway. Heck, even the part where Lincoln is wrestling with the bag of chips is a reference to the opening scene from the first episode of Perfect Strangers, a classic 80's sitcom.
So anyhow, I hope you all liked this first chapter. Don't forget to tell me what you all think in your reviews. And until then, look to the skies above, take in the fresh air, and have a wonderful day.