Maybe Rotten May Be Rotten- lazy town x reader

Gone

You, Stephanie and Trixie had gone up into Stephanie's room. Stephanie had insisted that you, as the newcomer, had to get a makeover, even if in reality you just wanted a toothbrush and a shower. Where did you leave your luggage, again? After a day of passing out, crashing airships and building roofs, you definitely needed some fresh clothes, and you would accept any, even if they were pink and too small. Well, no. But you could raid Milford's closet if you needed to.

You were currently brushing Stephanie's hair. You had considered braiding it, but had quickly discarded the idea. Stephanie's hair was too short and resembled a wig a little too closely. Trixie was up in Stephanie's bed, banging her feet on the wall for no apparent reason.

"— I mean, I know that he's a good person, deep down, but all that mine mine mine can get annoying sometimes. What can I do about it? Should I do something about it?" Stephanie was saying.

"Steal his things then graffiti his front wall," Trixie replied, still kicking at the wall.

Stephanie sighed. "I don't think that'd be the best idea."

"There, done," you said, getting up and showing Stephanie to her vanity. Even after a considerable amount of brushing, you still felt her hair looked exactly the same as it had been before, but you had given it up at this point.

Stephanie looked in the mirror. "It's beautiful! Thank you, Y/N!" She said. Her eyes widened. "Now we need to do your makeover."

"A-- ah, well, yes," you started saying, "but maybe not a makeover-makeover. I just need a shower and some--"

Trixie interrupted the sentence by groaning loudly and then rolling off the bed. "No," she said from the floor, pointing at you. "You don't get to say no to the makeover. You don't get to run away. Everyone got the makeover. I got the makeover. Stango got the makeover. And the makeup too."

"Stingy?" You asked.

"WHAT I'M SAYING IS," she said, "Don't reject the makeover. Embrace the makeover."

You sighed. "Well. Sure, then, Stephanie."

The girl squealed in joy. "Yes! I'm going to get Bessie's makeup." She opened the door. "She must still be downstairs. Trixie, floof the hair and try the clothes."

"Will do," Trixie assured her.

With an enthusiastic nod and a muttered this is gonna be great, Stephanie was gone. Trixie, juvenile delinquent at heart but a true friend too, started to pick out some of Stephanie's clothes for you, which of course ended up looking way too small, a fact of which you informed Stephanie when she entered the room to dump a handful of makeup on top of her vanity. Stephanie was gone again with a look of determination on her face and told Trixie to start working on your eyeliner. This time, Stephanie returned with a ridiculously large, James Bond style suit, just in time for Trixie to finish floofing up your hair, after having lined your eyes. She wasn't letting you look in the mirror, and you suspected it had to do with whatever 'floofing' was.

"I could just take a shower," you suggested for the fourteenth time.

"Nonsense," Trixie responded, for the fourteenth time. "I never need showers."

"Well, yes, but thad doesn't mean I—"

"That's enough with the floof, Trixie," Stephanie interrupted. Her energy had apparently been transferred from 'excited' to 'celebrity makeover TV show hostess'. But a nice celebrity makeover TV show hostess. You weren't one to complain. "Y/N, the suit."

"It's a bit large, I think—"

Trixie cleared her throat. Loudly.

"I mean, y- yeah, I'll put it on now."

Both girls left the room in giggles. Sighing again, you took off your own shirt and put on the dress one. You didn't even have to unbutton it, you just put it on through your head, and once it was on you were practically swimming in it. Giving up on the rest of the suit, you tried tucking the shirt inside your jeans and rolling up the sleeves to, at least, make it look decent. You were grateful it was, at least, clean.

Looking up, you caught sight of your reflection in Stephanie's vanity mirror, and saw why Trixie had tried to stop you from looking in it.

You were a mess.

Whatever 'floof' was, it hadn't turned out well, just like the makeup, or the shirt, or the fact that Trixie hadn't even bothered to clean your face before she whipped out the beautyblender. Your hair was a mess, the eyeliner was a mess, and with you looking in the mirror, Stephanie decided to stick her head through the door.

"O- oh, sorry, Steph," you started, but then you noticed she had a worried look on her face. "Staphanie? What happened?"

"Eh... we have a problem, Y/N," she said, pushing open the door a bit more, letting you glimpse Trixie and Sportacus talking in the hallway behind her.

"What? What happened?" You urged, furrowing your brows. You were starting to get nervous. "Stephanie?"

"Robbie's missing," she said.