AN: I'm not the biggest fan of the sinkids, and I never really intended to ever do anything with them. But it occurred to me a while back that I'm the only person in my social circle within the TLH fandom who hasn't written a story involving Lacy. Which...just felt kinda weird. Also, it's been a bit since I've done an Aces thing. So, thanks to the magic of self-applied peer pressure, I was able to come up with a rough idea for a story that would rectify both those things, and I slowly chipped away at it until it became this. Hopefully, the brain noises will stop now.

Update: For the sake of clarity, I don't dislike the sinkids. As a concept, I quite like them, and I think that the default sinkid set up is more or less what I consider to be an ideal end state for the Louds. Lincoln, his sisters, and their extended family remain together as one big family unit, raising the next generation of Louds and continuing to have adventures and whatnot together, it's good civilization. What I'm not a fan of is a lot of the stuff that fans tend to do with the sinkids, along with a lot of things that the subfandom have internalized as being standard things for a sinkids story. My saying that I didn't intend to do anything with them is more about me just not wanting to write the kind of thing that seems to be expected from a traditional sinkid story, than a a dislike for the characters or whathaveyou. But I'm glad to see that people are enjoying this, in spite of me not being super nuanced with that part of the fandom. On that note, and while I still have your attention, go read Consolation Prize, by my good buddy UnderratedHero. It's always been my favorite bit of sinkids fiction, and there's a decent chance it had some degree of influence on this story.

Also, I guess while I'm here, I don't currently have plans for more sinkids stuff. But I mean that in the sense that I just literally don't have anything planned. This Lacy thing came about haphazardly, one part "How come nobody ever writes Lacy like she was raised in part by a comic-book loving super dork?" and one part "Oh, that could be a fun thing to write". I haven't been similarly inspired to do something like that for any of the other kids yet, but we'll see what happens.


In a room, in a house located on Franklin Avenue, a young girl paced back and forth in front of a mirror. Periodically she'd stop to examine her reflection with a critical eye, only to dismiss herself with a quick shake of her head and resume her pacing. Until finally, after some innumerable intervals in this cycle, she paused, one leg still extended in mid-air.

"Get it together, Loud!" She muttered to herself. Then, with an audible, most unladylike grunt of exertion, she forced herself back to the mirror and began appraising her reflection with a critical eye.

Contrary to what her actions might have implied, Lacy Loud was by no means a vain girl. At thirteen years old, she was certainly pretty enough for her age, but that was more due to her having good gene stock than any concerted effort on her part. She had long brown hair, a good many shades lighter than her mom's rich, chestnut mane, which she also wore in a ponytail, largely for utilitarian purposes, bright, piercing blue eyes, and a smattering of freckles that readily identified her as her parents' offspring. However, to the eternal frustration of a number of her siblings, the mirror's purpose was not for preening herself. It was, in fact, a tool, one which Lacy used to prepare herself for the battleground that was socialization.

Lacy's parents were of two minds when it came to socializing, particularly where the art of persuasion was concerned. Her dad believed that the best way to make a point was to be polite, professional, and to be packing a number of well-thought-out arguments in advance. Three hundred was considered to be a solid start, but he was adamant that a five-hundred-pointer was where one found the perfect balance of nuance and robustness. Her mom, by contrast, had a much more direct philosophy: look tough, act tough, and be tough, and you'll get exactly what you need. Heads butted more often than not when the topic was broached, but Lacy generally saw the value in both approaches. A neatly piled stack of freshly printed paper sitting on the foot of her bed would satisfy the former method, but she wasn't so confident about the latter.

Lacy had what her aunt Lisa referred to as an "intimidation deficit", meaning that by nature, she was too cute to be taken seriously. The junior Loud always bristled whenever this remark was made, but even she was forced to admit that freckles and a broad, gap-toothed smile weren't the most intimidating combination. Being just a tad on the short side for her age didn't help either. Years of diligent exercise had offset this handicap by packing her small frame with enough lean, well-toned muscle that even kids twice her size tended to think twice about messing with her, or anyone who happened to be under her protection. But today's opponent was no mere school bully. That, she could handle. Heck, these days she didn't even have trouble scaring off those guys from "The Iris" (whatever that was), who were always bothering Uncle Flip. No, this opponent was in a league of her own. For today, Lacy Loud faced—

"Lacille Savvina Loud! You're late!"

—her mother.


"I still can't believe I trusted your dad with naming you," Muttered her mom as she strode into Lacy's room and folded her arms across her chest.

Lynn Loud was everything Lacy aspired to be, minus a few choice superpowers she'd really like to have. There were just so many obstacles she ran into on a daily basis that could easily be circumvented by a properly applied blast of heat vision. Or the ability to shoot roast beef from her hands. Still, even without superpowers, her mom was a beast in the best possible way, which was amply demonstrated by the tank top and shorts combo in which she was currently attired. With powerful, rippling muscles that flowed effortlessly into soft, feminine curves, her mom looked like she'd stepped right out of the pages of a comic book, and had repeatedly proven herself to be equally at home on the playing field, in the Octagon, or in the kitchen.

But those same qualities could also make her mom a little intimidating to deal with on occasion. It wasn't that Lacy was actually afraid of her mom, the woman just naturally exuded an aura that made her seem like the biggest and scariest thing in the room, and it could take her body a few moments to remember that this was the same woman who woke up early on Saturdays to make goofy looking pancakes for her family, became inconsolable and blamed herself when her favorite sports teams lost, and quickly devolved into a blushing, stammering mess whenever someone (usually Aunt Sam) told embarrassing stories from their childhood.

"You've got training today, Lacey," Lynn said, sternly, tapping her wrist where she might have worn a watch, had a watch brand existed that could keep up with her rough and tumble lifestyle (One of many, seemingly impossible projects that Aunt Lisa was determined to see through) "You know how this goes. You were supposed to have cleats on the field ten minutes ago!"

"But mom," Lacy protested, "We train every day."

"Well...yeah," Lynn replied, blinking in confusion. "That's how it's supposed to…"

Her mom trailed off, her eyes focusing on something past Lacy. The younger girl tried to surreptitiously glance over her shoulder, but she had a feeling she knew what had caught her mom's attention.

"Lacy?" Her mom deadpanned. "Is that several hundred pre-planned arguments I spy?"

...Well, no time like the present then.

"M-mom!" She began, her voice quavering only slightly from what she chose to believe was performance anxiety. "I p-propose that we skip training today for the following reasons!"

Without missing a beat, she took one step forward and adopted a double-bicep pose. "Point one! Medical studies have shown that—"

"Okay, okay, stop that!" Lynn snapped, waving one hand dismissively before holding up one finger. "First off, I don't care what your dad tells you, that's a terrible way to convince anyone to do anything. Especially when you're proposing to them."

Now it was Lacy's turn to blink slowly. "Um…"

"Second," Lynn held up another finger. "Great form, honey. You nailed the pose, and that new upper body routine we're trying is doing wonders. Your guns are looking sick. Also, wearing a basketball jersey was a good call. It gives people front-row tickets to the show, but it's also inconspicuous enough that you avoid tipping your hand too early, well played."

"Aw, thanks Mom!" Lacy preened at the praise as she tugged at the crimson jersey she was wearing.

"And third, and most important," Lynn continued, holding up a third finger. "...Don't ever try to intimidate me."

Lacy involuntarily gulped as her mom's eyes narrowed.

"There are two people in this world I'm afraid of," Said Lynn, "And you aren't your grandmother or Aunt Lori."

She crossed the room, moving past Lacy and making her way to the bed. With a deft flick of her wrist, Lynn sent the pile of papers soaring across the room and into Lacy's wastepaper basket. Then she sat down on the foot of the bed.

"Com'ere kiddo," She said, patting the space next to her. Obediently, Lacy followed suit and plopped down next to her mom.

"Now then," Lynn wrapped one arm around her daughter and gave her an affectionate squeeze. "How about we just...talk about this, alright? What's on your mind?"

"I just…" Lacy indulged in a sharp intake of breath as she tried to force the swarm of butterflies that had suddenly taken up residence in her stomach to stop line dancing. "I'd...really like it if we could just...skip...training...today?"

"Mmmhmm," Lynn nodded noncommittally. "Alright. That's only the third craziest thing I've heard today, but…" she shot her daughter a sidelong glance. "Why, exactly?"

"W-well…", Lacy's hands clenched anxiously, causing bits of her shorts to poke out between her fingers. "It's Friday, and that's when Dad runs his Trailsearchers game…"

"That would be that game where you kids roll dice and play pretend?" Lynn asked, waving her hand vaguely. "And your dad wears his wizard hat?"

"It's actually called a Trailblazer's Phrygian!" Came a decidedly male voice wafting in from the hallway. A moment later, her dad poked his face into the opened doorway. A tired smile, and faint, whispy strands of untended facial hair suggested that he'd spent another day holed up in his art studio.

"You glued stars on it, honey," Lynn replied in a sing-song voice. "As far as I'm concerned, that makes it a wizard hat."

Lincoln's scowl suggested that he strongly disagreed.

"Now buzz off," Lynn added, shoeing him away. "We're having a Ma and Daugh chat."

"Anything I can heeeeeeel..." Lincoln began to crane his head for a better view, only to trail off as he caught sight of the large stack of papers sticking out of Lacy's trashcan.

"Ah." He said, nodding in understanding. "You're doing the thing. Okay."

And, as if by magic, her father was suddenly gone.

"Good luck, Lace!" Came her dad's words through now empty doorway, suddenly sounding very far away. "You've got this!"

Lynn rolled her eyes, seemingly in irritation, but the bemused smile on her face robbed the gesture of its sting.

"Come on," She said, giving Lacy a gentle nudge in the ribs. "Out with it, before I chase down your dad and make him tell me what this is about."

Lacy loved and respected her father too much to let that happen. Also, she could hear the faint clickety-clack of her dad's studio going into lockdown mode. Historically, it hadn't been able to stop Mom when she was truly determined to get in, but an angry mom wasn't exactly conducive to what she was trying to accomplish here.

"Well, normally I only get to play when you're too busy to train with me." Lacy began.

"Even though I always outline an alternate routine for you to do solo?" Lynn asked, archly.

"...Dadsaiditsokay," Lacy added quickly, trying to keep her face neutral.

"Uh huh."

"A-anyway," She pushed on. "Today's game is kind of a big deal. There's this big dungeon crawl that we've been building up to for months now. And I'd really…" She inhaled sharply. "Really really really REEEEEALLY...like...to do...that...instead?"

Silence filled the room as her mother simply sat there, studying her impassively.

"It's just...we've put a lot of work into this," said Lacy, hoping to fill the sudden conversational void. "We had to solve a bunch of really hard riddles. Lupa had to research a time travel spell. Libby went lava diving in a volcano…!" She paused, frowning thoughtfully. "Well, I guess she didn't have to, now that I think about it. But still…"

She shot a sideways glance at her mom, hoping for some kind of clue as to how she was doing, but the older woman simply sat there, looking at her expectantly.

"A-and, well…" Lacy continued. "I'm the only frontliner our party has. So, the girls need me. I mean, unless you count bards, but…"

"Bards don't count."

"Exactly!" Lacy exclaimed, nodding furiously. Only for her face to scrunch up in confusion a few moments later. "Wait, what?"

"I married your dad, kiddo," Lynn chuckled. "Let's just say I've done my share of playing pretend. Ask one of your aunts about it sometime."

She paused, pursing her lips thoughtfully.

"...Not Carol," She added, a moment later.

Lacy waited for her to elaborate, but her mom seemed content to leave it at that. "Ooooh...kay?" She said, hesitantly.

"Look, Lace," Said Lynn, giving her daughter a stern look. "What's been your dream, ever since you were a little girl?"

"To pilot a giant robot and use it to pile-drive Godzilla into the Statue of Liberty," Lacy recited. "Or," She added, "A comparably awesome kaiju, or similarly giant creature."

"And what did your Aunt Lisa tell you when you told her that." Lynn prompted.

Lacy sighed. "That the government is making great strides with their robotics program, but their secret pilot-training division only accepts the best of the best."

"And that's why we train," Lynn concluded, nodding in agreement. "If you want to be the best, you've got to put in the time."

It was sound logic. Something that even her pre-planned arguments were only going to skirt around. Even so, Lacy couldn't stop her shoulders from sagging in disappointment.

"And you've made me so proud, hon." Said Lynn, giving her daughter an affectionate squeeze. "You go out there every day and you work your butt off. You keep this up, and by the time your old enough to apply to Lisa's vague, yet menacing government organization, they're going to be begging you to help kick the butts of all those monsters that…" Her brow furrowed, "That...I guess are coming...eventually?"

Silence.

"Buuuuuuut," Said Lynn, stroking her chin. "When you think about it, I guess your party, is basically like...your team, right?"

Lacy's gaze, which had been firmly planted on the ground up until this point, flew up so swiftly that she experienced a moment of lightheadedness. Daring to hope, she glanced over at her mom, and was met with a knowing smile.

"And a Loud always supports her team, come game day." Lynn continued. "So, maybe we can work something out."

Not trusting her voice, Lacy simply nodded in agreement."

"How about, instead of doing your progress test at the end of the month, we make it a weekly thing we do on Fridays?" Lynn suggested. "I'll get your aunt to with the numbers, rejigger it to work as a weekly thing. But that way we can keep you on task, and you'll be out of here in about...an hour, give or ta—OOF!"

Lynn wheezed as Lacy lunged at her, and flung her arms around her mom as hard as she could, crushing the air from the older woman's lungs.

"That's my girl," Lynn croaked, returning the gesture, albeit far more gently. "You're gonna beat those monsters so bad…"

"Thanks, Mom," Lacy mumbled, flushing with embarrassment. "I'll do my best."

For a moment, mother and daughter remained that way, holding each other in a mutual embrace. Then, as if by some unspoken signal, they parted, smiling at each other as they separated, bright blue eyes meeting warm brown.

"It's settled then," Said Lynn, clapping Lacy on the back as she climbed to her feet. "But if we're going to make this happen, we're going to need to move quickly. How about you outside and start calibrating the dodgeball canons? And warm up the laser field while you're at it, alright?"

"You've got it, coach!" Lacy shouted, nodding eagerly.

"And while you're doing that, I'm gonna phone your aunt Lana and see if she can get us a bear on short notice."

Lacy frowned, thoughtfully. "Is it going to be a five-count bout, or ten?"

"Ten count," Lynn replied, without hesitation. "I want it to be a fair fight."

She allowed a moment of silence to pass, before a fierce grin erupted across her face. "FOR THE BEAR!"

"TEAM LOUD!" Mother and daughter shouted in unison as they high-fived, bone slapping against bone as immovable object met slightly less immovable object, before they darted off to complete their assigned tasks.

Another day in the Loud House. One of many yet to come.