z

Young Writers Society


12+ Violence Mature Content

Crybaby and the clown-There’s nobody home (Chapter Eight)

by vampricone6783


*This is a Creepypasta and Melanie Martinez crossover fanfic. The Creepypasta in this fanfic is Laughing Jack, a demon clown who was created by Snuffbomb. Melanie Martinez is a singer and these chapters are based on songs from her album titled “Crybaby” and on her persona in the story, who is “Crybaby”.  This chapter is based off the Melanie Martinez song “Mrs. Potato Head”. This is all a fanfic, so what happens is not canon. You can find Gacha Club character designs on my wall and the rest of the chapters are in my folder titled “Creepypasta stuff”. I hope that you enjoy reading this!*



Crybaby walked into her house, opening the door carefully so as not to disturb anyone.

It had been a long walk, but she had made it home.

“Laughing Jack? Hello? Is anybody here?” Crybaby asked.

No one responded. Her brother must have been at school, and Mom must have been out to get a drink.

But where was Laughing Jack? Wasn’t he supposed to be home?

“Hello?” Crybaby asked, walking down the hall.

She stopped in the living room, to where the TV was blaring. It appeared that he was watching TV while she was gone.

On the screen, a black and white commercial played, showing three girls with blond wigs. All were smiling, all were blond. All were beautiful.

But that wasn’t the only commercial. There was a pill to be taken to keep a female a certain way.

Crybaby stood still, enthralled by the TV. If she were gorgeous and poised, like the girls and women on TV, would people like her more?

The commercials had ended and turned into a movie of a woman who would do anything for her husband. Even get plastic surgery.

Crybaby walked up to the TV. Perhaps she could learn a thing or two about keeping people in her life.

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116 Reviews

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Reviews: 116

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Sat Mar 02, 2024 9:09 pm
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LuminescentAnt wrote a review...



Hello, vampricone!
This review is brought to you by review team Potato!

Get ready... Get set...
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Keep Your Eyes Peeled - My Interpretation

This chapter contained a lot of things that made Crybaby think. She comes home and looks for her brother, mother, and LJ, but the house is eerily empty. As she watches the TV, she begins to question people’s perception of her and how she would be viewed differently if she was similar to the “perfect” women on TV. It also makes the reader think about how people act and the standards that women face to stay pretty and likable.

It's The Tot That Counts - Some Advice

I think you could describe the mood of the chapter a little more here. The house is completely empty and the black and white TV is playing in the background. That is a spooky and horror movie-like mood to me, and I think you can develop it more so that the reader can feel how quiet and lonely the house is, and how that relates to how Crybaby feels.

That's Absolutely Mashing - My Favorites

I’ve got to say, this is probably my favorite chapter in this series. The problem that Crybaby thinks about in this chapter is very real, and probably relatable for most people. It’s interesting how you incorporated this into the story based off the song too. It tells us a lot about Crybaby and that she has insecurities about these kinds of things.

Time Fries When You're Having Fun - Final Words

I actually really enjoyed reading this chapter, I think it was really thoughtful and well written, even though it was so short. Also I realized that this review template is perfect for this chapter because it’s about Mrs. Potato Head. :wink:

Chip, chip, hooray!! Thank you for taking the time to write and post this, and I hope this review is of some use to you!

I'll see you tater! I hope you have a magnificent day (or night) wherever you are!




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5 Reviews

Points: 19
Reviews: 5

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Mon Jan 29, 2024 1:11 am
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RazzleDazzle says...



That last line is haunting! Ouch. This is a really unique spin on 'Mrs Potato Head' and I really like it!
'






Thanks. :>




I lingered round them, under that benign sky: watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.
— Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights