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Whoops	By : GeorgeGlass Category: +G through L > The Loud House Views: 100034 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I do not own or even rent The Loud House. (If I did, my security deposit would be long gone by now.) I made no money from writing this story.

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Title: Whoops

Summary: Lincoln’s sisters become inexplicably amorous.
Note: If you are so kind as to leave a review, I will respond to it here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/63511-review-responses-for-whoops-the-loud-house/

***

Chapter 1

By now, you've probably noticed that having ten siblings presents some unique challenges -- especially when you’re the only boy. Because while there are a few advantages, like getting my own room, there’s one big down side. I call it...girl stuff.

You'll see what I mean.

It was Saturday morning, and Lincoln Loud was thinking about what to do with his day. His best friend Clyde was competing in the All-City Mathletics Tournament, so Lincoln was considering other options as he ambled down the upstairs hallway to get in line for the bathroom. He didn't strictly need to go at this moment, but in the Loud House, it often paid to think ahead. And when he saw Lucy, Lana, and Leni queued up in front of the bathroom door, he knew he’d made the right decision. Particularly given their behavior.

“Come on, this is taking forever!” Lana shouted at the closed door as she clutched the straps of her overalls.

Black-haired Lucy, her knees pressed together, recited shakily, “The noose, the axe, the bite of the adder/None would be worse than a ruptured bladder.”

“How come you guys have been waiting so long?” Lincoln asked.

“Lori's shaving her legs,” Leni explained.

“Why do girls even do that?” Lincoln scoffed.

“Because boys like girls with smooth legs,” Leni replied matter-of-factly.

“Well, I’m a boy, and I don’t care about that at all,” Lincoln said.

“She meant mature boys,” Lori responded haughtily as she emerged from the bathroom in a pink bathrobe and white towel-turban.

“Thanktheblackspirits!” Lucy gasped, dashing past Lori and slamming the bathroom door behind her.

“Oh,” Lori said to Lincoln, “and it’s your turn to go with mom to Cost Club today.”

Lincoln had forgotten about that. But at least it answered the question of what he was going to do with his Saturday morning.

“Remind her to get the extra-absorbent tampons this time,” Lori continued. “Biggest box they have. On second thought, make it two boxes.”

Luan, popping out from her bedroom door, added, “Definitely! Otherwise, whoever has to wash my undies will be seeing red. Get it?” she asked while elbowing Lincoln knowingly.

“I wish I didn’t,” the boy moaned.

“And hook me up with some of those ultra-thin pads with wings, will ya?” Luna called from her room.

“Those wings are totally not what I thought they were,” said Leni. Lincoln wondered whether this might explain why he had seen Leni jump off the roof of the garage and land messily in a trash can a couple of weeks earlier.

Feeling put upon, Lincoln asked, “Why do you guys need so much...stuff?”

“With five teenage girls plus Mom, we need to be prepared,” Lori explained.

Lisa, getting into the bathroom line behind Lincoln, lisped, “Your assertion would sheem to be predicated on the fallacious notion that the menstrual cycles of cohabitating post-pubescent females eventually become synchronized.” Then, in response to Lincoln's blank look, she added flatly, “It’s a myth that women who live together have their periods at the same time.”

Lynn emerged from her room and, to Lincoln's great discomfort, reached into the sleeve of her sports jersey and pulled out a worn-out white bra whose elastic had gone completely limp.

“Tell Mom I need a new training bra,” she said. “I think I overtrained this one.”

“Aw, jeez,” Lincoln said, dropping his forehead into his hand.

See what I mean? Girl stuff. In the Loud House, there’s no getting away from it. And sometimes it’s really not fun.

***

Two hours later, Lincoln was unloading the car while his mother put away the items they had already brought inside: several gallons of milk, three thirty-six-packs of toilet paper, and five family-size boxes of cereal, among other things.

Now there was just one set of boxes left. Lincoln tried to unload the feminine hygiene items as quickly as possible, but it wasn't quickly enough.

“Hey, Loud!” shouted neighborhood jerkwad Larry Smythe as he whizzed by on his bike. “That time of the month, huh?”

“Watch the birdie, Lawrence!” Lincoln shouted, holding up his middle finger, but the boy was already too far past him to see.

Lincoln sighed and brought the sizeable boxes of tampons and pads inside.

“Sweetie,” his mother said, “your father and I need to run some more errands. We'll be back in a few hours. Now go take the rest of these things upstairs.”

Lincoln hauled the toilet paper and the sizeable boxes of tampons and pads up the stairs and put them in the hall closet next to the bathroom. When he finished, he wiped his brow and gave a sigh of relief. Maybe, he thought, he'd just go to his room and read comics in his underwear for a while. He didn't have any new ones; those came on Wednesdays. But at this point, he would be perfectly satisfied to reread one of his old comics if it meant being able to chill out in peace.

But in the Loud House, even the simple act of walking down the hall required a certain amount of care and vigilance. He sniffed the air, and amidst the usual smells—Lisa’s chemicals, Lori's hairspray, Lily's dirty diapers—Lincoln's nose detected something else: sweet, but slightly acidic.

Alarm bells going off in his head, Lincoln managed only to partly dodge the lemon meringue pie that came speeding toward him. Instead of hitting him full in the face, it only caught the left side of his neck and the top of his left shoulder, the rest of it flying past him to make a mess on the hallway floor.

“Rats!” cried Luan, emerging from her ambush spot just below the top of the stairs. “My favorite practical joke turned out to be a lemon. Hahaha!”

Lincoln rolled his eyes. “You know, only you would actually bake a lemon meringue pie to throw at me. Most people would just fill a pie plate with whipped cream from a can or something.”

“Great comedy should involve all the senses,” Luan said glibly as she put her face next to Lincoln's pie-splattered neck and inhaled deeply. “If you can't smell the joke, it stinks!”

Lincoln groaned and was about to walk away when Luan stopped him and, slowly, ran her tongue up the side of Lincoln's neck, licking up custard and meringue as she went. As her soft, warm tongue ran over his skin, Lincoln went completely rigid, the hairs on his neck standing on end. Between five big sisters and a mom, Lincoln had lost count of how many times he had his face cleaned on the fly, with a variety of tools for the task: washcloths, moist towelettes, and even the old 'spit, shirt, shine' trick. But he had never been licked clean before...and boy, was it weird.

“Uh, Luan?” Lincoln said, backing away. “If this is part of the joke, I don't get it.”

Luan shook her head rapidly, as though pulling herself out of a daze. “Um, I…I guess I'd better clean that pie off the floor...before Mom and Dad give me my just desserts!”

Wow, that one was lame, even by Luan's standards, Lincoln thought as he watched his jokester sibling dash downstairs to fetch cleaning supplies.

“Hey, man,” Luna said as she leaned out of her bedroom doorway. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Uh, I'm just gonna go read comics for a little bit,” Lincoln replied cautiously.

“In your underwear? You can do that in my room if you want, dude.” Then, with a sly tone and an unnerving smile, Luna added, “You don't even have to wear underwear.”

“Um, thanks anyway!” Lincoln said quickly as he hurried toward his room.

Just then, Lynn appeared in her bedroom doorway, wearing the robe from her Mexican pro-wrestling costume.

“Hey bro!” she said as Lincoln approached. “How about a little lucha libre?”

“Umm…” Lincoln began.

“Accent on the libre,” Lynn added. Then, grinning wolfishly, she opened her robe, under which she was wearing only her new training bra and a pair of red sports undies.

“Ahhh!” Lincoln shouted, averting his eyes and dashing for the safety of his room. It was only sheer panic that enabled him to evade Lynn's grasping hands, dive into his room, and slam the door shut behind him.

“Lincoln!” his sister shouted while pounding on the door. “Come out here and wrestle me like a man!” Then, her voice turning sultry, she added, “And maybe do other stuff like a man.”

“Whew,” Lincoln breathed. “That was-”

“Lincoln,” a voice said in a gravelly alto.

“Gyaaah!” the startled boy yelled. He whipped his head around to see black-clad Lucy standing behind him, holding a sheet of paper.

“What are you doing in my room!?” he cried.

“I wanted to read you my new poem,” she answered.

“Forbidden desires invading my mind,
I dream of our bodies intertwined.
Cold and hot, black and white, we were made for each other.
Why should we care that we're sister and brother?
So take me, my lover, I belong in your bed,
or gazing up at your face while I’m giving you-”

“Whoa!” Lincoln shouted as he opened his bedroom door just wide enough to quickly shove Lucy out and slam it behind her.

“I wasn't finished,” Lucy called with audible frustration.

“You know what they say,” Lincoln shouted through the door as he tried to keep his rising panic at bay. “Always leave 'em wanting more!”

Lincoln locked the door and pushed his desk up against it for good measure. Then, lacking any other plan, he grabbed his walkie-talkie and called Clyde.

“What’s up, Lincoln?” his friend asked in a low voice.

“Clyde, you've gotta help me! My sisters have gone completely nuts!”

“Sorry, Lincoln, we’re about to wipe the floor with Scofield Elementary in the Long Division Lightning Round. Those guys couldn't carry the remainder if it had a handle on it! Talk to you later!”

“Wait! Clyde!”

Suddenly, the cover of the vent near the ceiling swung open. Lincoln watched as Lisa, wearing a head lamp, emerged from the vent and lowered herself to the floor with some sort of grappling device.

“Lisa?” Lincoln exclaimed. “Not you, too!”

“Not me too what?” the girl replied calmly. “I was just shearching the house's ventilation system for one of my laboratory mice.”

“Huh?”

Lisa sighed. “I have been trying to breed a strain of hyper-intelligent mice for use in neurocognitive experiments. I managed to create a single male with a genetically enhanced intellect, but unfortunately, the female mice have shown no interest in mating with him—a trait not confined to the murine species, I’m afraid,” she added bitterly.

“So I shprayed him with a synthetic pheromone designed to induce sexual receptivity in females. Unfortunately, the pheromone was so powerful that all of the female mice chased poor Pythagoras out of their habitat and then out of the room. I eventually located him in Lynn and Lucy's bedroom, but being in a hypervigilant state, Pythagoras eluded my attempts at capture and fled down the hall into Luna and Luan's room, and thence into the air ducts.”

“Wait—he was in Lynn and Lucy’s room, and then Luna and Luan’s?” Lincoln thought aloud. Then, turning to Lisa, he asked, “Um, by 'induce sexual receptivity in females,’ do you mean-?”

“It makes them horny,” Lisa said with a sigh.

“And does this stuff only work on mice?”

“No,” Lisa said proudly. “It should be effective in females of any mammalian species.”

Lincoln put a hand to his forehead as he said, “Lisa, you know humans are a mammalian species, right?”

“Well, of course, Lincoln, I'm not an id-”

She froze, her eyes widening.

“Whoops,” she said quietly.
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