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The Diary of Luan Loud	By : Flagg1991 Category: +G through L > The Loud House Views: 6978 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own The Loud House or any of its characters. This story was written for fun, not profit. I will never see a nickle from it.

Chapter List
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They say puns are the lowest form of humor, but they’re wrong: Puns are hilarious! Case in point: This afternoon Luna was doing her stupid rock chick act, you know, dancing around the room with her guitar and hitting sour notes (what other notes can she hit?). At one point, she was on her bed and went to lean back, bending at the knees, when the guitar flew from her hands and crashed into the doorjamb. The neck came clean off, taking most of the strings with it. “Wow, sis,” I said before I could stop myself, “tough break!”

I laughed so hard I cried. I mean, I was gasping for air, and not faking it like I usually do. “That’s not funny,” she said tightly, hopping down and scooping up the shattered remains of her prized possession. She stormed out and hasn’t talked to me since. What’s with her? It was her fault anyway. I didn’t do it. She should have been wearing the strap, but no, she thinks she’s too cool for the strap. Well, that’s what you get.

Thinking about it, though, I really shouldn’t have said that. I try my hardest to keep from being mean-spirited, but sometimes, it slips out. I can’t help it. When you live with fifty thousand other people, you’re bound to see the dumbest shit, but if you say anything, everyone gets mad at you and blah blah blah. Take a fucking joke, will you?

After Luna shredded her guitar (get it?), I did a little joke research online. Every day, I look up jokes to tell. I find the stupidest, most inoffensive, childish crap I can and copy it down in a notebook. I gotta keep up my act, right? I’m Luan Loud. I tell jokes and wear Groucho Marx glasses and carry a dummy around. Why did the chicken cross the road? To get to the other side! LOL! I don’t copy down the good stuff, though. That might get me in trouble. One I saw last night almost made me pee. It goes: What’s the worst part about being a black Jew? Sitting at the back of the oven! Imagine me cracking that at the dinner table. They’d all look at me like I was crazy. They’d be fake butthurt aplenty in the Loud house.

I wonder how they do it? Faking emotion is hard work. Pretending to love and care about each other. I struggle. I really do. I have to practice my smile in the mirror every day, or it starts to look as fake as it feels. I don’t see anyone else doing that. Maybe deceit comes more naturally to them. Hell, maybe they’re so delusional they don’t even know up from down.

I guess I better apologize to Luna. Yuck.

May 16 – Rain, rain, go away. The funny thing is, this always happens on a Saturday or a Sunday. It never rains when we’re at school, it rains when we’re all home and we have to be stuck with one other. And for whatever reason, everyone congregates in the living room. All thirty siblings. Lincoln is reading comics in his underwear (in front of his sisters, too, what a fucking pervert...I bet he gets off on it), Lisa is doing “experiments” again and using the biggest, most pretentious words she can memorize, Luna is dancing around like a moron, only this time with the radio (I wanted to tell her not to break it, but I don’t want to fight with her again), and Lori is texting Bobby. The others...I really don’t know, and I don’t care. I’m in my room now because I couldn’t take it anymore. It was like being suffocated. I had to get away.

I’m so bored.

Oh, I just had a good idea. BRB.

LATER

Here’s what I did: After making sure no one was in the hall, I sneaked into Lola and Lana’s room, found Lola’s stupid fairy princess wand, broke it over my knee, and threw it under Lana’s bed. Then I went back downstairs and started telling jokes. After about an hour, Lola came down the stairs yelling about her wand. She couldn’t find it, and it was special. Awww. She spent almost an hour looking for it, going from pissed to hysterical, shaking and screaming and kicking things. When she finally found it, she snapped (get it?) and blamed Lana. I was hoping for a fistfight, but instead Lola stormed off. Nice one.

Of course, the others took it upon themselves to try and get them to stop fighting. Lori was all like, “We need to fix this.” No, you need to mind your own business, you stupid bitch. As always, I went along with it. Gotta be the good sister. Gotta front. Get this: When I was alone again, I went back into their room, broke Lana’s lucky plunger, and threw it on the floor next to Lola’s bed.

That caused a fistfight. I had my money on Lana, but Lola held her own. Ittle fairy princess packs a punch. By the time Lori and Luna separated them, they both had black eyes, cut lips, bloody noses. It was cool. So cool I started getting turned on.

“Enough of this!” Lori yelled.

“She broke my wand!”

“She broke my plunger!”

It was all I could do to keep from laughing. My wand! My plunger! Oh, Jesus.

Anyway, it’s almost bedtime and the two geeks still aren’t talking. Whatever harebrained scheme the others come up with to get them back together, I hope they leave me out of it.

May 17 – It ended like it always does: They kissed, made up, and everyone came in for a giant, writhing, Loud family group hug. It’s enough to make you sick. Although, truth be told, I didn’t mind when Lincoln accidentally touched my butt. He’s an ugly little shit, but he’s got a mouth, fingers, and a dick, doesn’t he?

He’d probably puss out and tell mom and dad like Luna did when we were kids. We weren’t doing anything wrong, just...exploring. It was my idea. She’s too stupid to come up with something like that on her own. I had to hold her hand and guide her. I’d probably have to do the same to him. I’ll think about it.

In the meantime, we packed into the van and went to church. Got to listen to a priest speaking in Latin. Yay for dead languages. Afterwards, we went out to breakfast, which was nice, until Lynn busted out her basketball and tried to show off. By show off, I mean she threw it into the air and didn’t catch it. It came down in the middle of the table and knocked everything over. Lucy took a pancake to the face, I was covered in orange juice. I was pissed. “Oops, sorry,” she said with a sheepish little grin, but I think she did it on purpose. Mom and dad were upset. “This is why we never go out,” mom whined like an old Jewish grandmother. Shut up. You’re the one who pumped out fifty kids. It’s a vagina, not a clown car (FUCKING GET IT?).

At home, everyone scattered to do their own thing. Lynn conned Lincoln into playing football with her, and while they were preoccupied, I went into her room and stabbed her stupid basketball to death. You wanna play, bitch? Let’s play.

After that, I practiced with my dummy a little. I’m getting good. Watch out, Jeff Dunham; there’s a new loser in town.

LATER

Lynn found her ball DOA and made a little stink about it. She has others, so she wasn’t that upset. She shouldn’t have ruined breakfast like she did! I’m the bad guy? Come on. This is the shit I deal with every day from these people.

Oh, Lisa blew up her room again. Mixed and matched something that shouldn’t have been mixed and match. Really blew my socks off. One of these days she’s going to kill herself. I just hope I’m there to watch.

May 18 – Am I cracking up? I think I am. Everyone’s getting on my nerves lately. I smile wider, crack more jokes, and try to be the perfect sister, but, man, these assholes are really pissing me off. Today it’s Leni. God, she’s such a retard. I know she has issues, okay. Everyone knows that. When she was little she had a really bad fever and it fucked her brain up. Terrible. Still, we all have issues. Work through them. I think she fakes most of it. She fakes most of it to get sympathy. That’s her con. We all have one. I can’t blame her for that, but it’s so irritating. Fuck. Doesn’t she have any dignity? Any shame? Pride? Anything? I couldn’t live with myself if I walked around acting stupid. She can, though, because she doesn’t care.

And Lucy with her stupid goth act. Oooo, darkness, ooo, melancholy. She’s eight. What the hell does she know about darkness? The Count from Sesame Street? I’m sick of hearing her stupid poems and then acting like they don’t suck. I think one day soon her notebook’s going to pull a disappearing act.

I’ve been thinking about Lincoln. I could really use a good eating out. And before you start in on me, I know he’s my brother. So? I don’t give a shit. An O is an O. I still think he’d be a little bitch about it. Oh well. I guess we’ll see.

May 20 – Last night, after everyone was asleep, I got out of bed and went to Lincoln’s door. I was wearing a T-shirt and nothing else. Looking at myself in the mirror, I was pleased with the way my nipples stuck out. I’m hot.

I knocked on the door, and when he didn’t answer, I opened it part of the way. “Linc?”

He snorted.

I looked over my shoulder, made sure no one was watching, and went in, shutting and locking the door behind me.

Tiptoing, I climbed onto the bed and straddled him. He came groggily awake. “Huh...?”

“Hey, Linc,” I whispered, “wanna hear a wet joke?”

He blinked. “What?”

His hand was resting on his chest. I grabbed it and stuck it between my legs. When he realized what he was touching, he jumped a foot.

“Luan! What are you doing?”

I shrugged. “Just spending time with my little brother.”

“You...you...” he stammered.

“Come on. You didn’t like it?”

“No!”

I got angry then. I pinned both of his hands to the bed and leaned in. “Too bad.”

I slipped my tongue into his mouth. He fought, shaking his head from side to side, but I wouldn’t let go. When it finally broke, I was panting. My heart was racing. This was exciting on so many levels.

“You know how we help each other out? You’re gonna help me out. Or I’m going to tell mom and dad that you broke the window last week.”

His eyes went wide. Last Monday, he and Clyde were playing catch in the backyard. Linc didn’t catch Clyde’s fastball, and through the kitchen window it went. I think he did it on purpose. He panicked, and I helped him push a tree branch through the window so it looked like an act of God. Mom and dad bought it, because they’re stupid.

“Please don’t!” The look of terror in his eyes made me even wetter.

“Take off your pants.”

I sat on the edge of the bed as he stripped naked. His penis was small and flaccid. When he was ready, I told him to lay back, and then put it in my mouth. It tasted salty and musky, which is how a dick is supposed to taste. At least Jimmy from the next block tasted that way in fifth grade.

When Linc was hard (he does enjoy it, pervert), I mounted him again and slowly eased onto him, the head of his dick pushing through my tight opening. When he was in, I told him to grab my tits, and he did, but he just left his hands there.

“Play with them!”

He rubbed and pinched my nipples through my shirt. It hurt, but it felt so good. I started grinding my hips, rocking back and forth.

“Do you like that, bitch?” I asked.

“Y-Yes,” he said.

I started thrusting harder. God, it felt so good. I was quickly losing myself on a tide of pleasure. When I came, I had to bite my bottom lip to keep from screaming. My body shook, my knees went weak. I rolled off of him and lie on the bed, shuddering. When I was done and had my breathing under control, I got up. “Don’t tell mom and dad. Or I’ll kill you.”

Back in my own room, I snuggled under the blankets and went to sleep.

Today Lincoln has been really weird. He really hasn’t come out of his room, and when he does, he can’t even bring himself to look at me. He’s probably going to punk out and tell. I kind of hope he does, because I was serious.

I’ll kill him.
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The Diary of Luan Loud