Hello, friend. I was wondering if you had any advice on adding a creep factor to a story? I'm trying to make a novella I'm writing creepy without it being obviously so. Like, you know how some things are unnerving and you can't explain why? I want it sort of like that.
@im-basic-but-ur-the-bitch, your ask has been selected for one of my Long
THINGS TO ADD THAT EXTRA CREEP FACTOR IN YOUR STORIES
Hello, friend! The thing about
writing with “creep factor“ is the fact that different things creep different
people out. A person who might be terrified of old porcelain dolls is can be
completely unfazed by masked murderers and vice versa.
Keep this in mind whenever you write
scary stories, so that you know that it’s not going to scare EVERYONE. This
will help make sure that you’re not overwhelmed or daunted by making your story
eerie, since you know that it’s not going to please all of the people that read
With that said, let’s launch into
two things that will make your scary story even scarier.
Setting is key when it comes to
making your story extra creepy; a story set in an abandoned mental asylum
during a midnight storm is way scarier than a story set in a pretty garden on a
However, the setting of your story doesn’t
have to be the classic cemetery or haunted mansion. In fact, those settings in
scary/eerie stories are so predictable that they’re almost cliche by this
Don’t be afraid to spice up your
setting! A part of your story that could make it eerie is that it’s set in a
place that isn’t normally scary but can be under certain conditions.
For example, a nursery school is a
nice, fun place with happy children, colorful walls and pictures, and arts and
crafts. However, it becomes an entirely different place if you’re locked in at
night and there are children laughing despite the fact that the last students
left over eight hours ago.
Places that seem benevolent during
the day transform at night or during a storm, when the shadows stretch across
the walls and manipulate what you see.
What places make the hairs on the
back of your neck stand up whenever you’re there? What places only freak you
out under certain conditions?
In this case with writing, I
encourage you to draw upon your own feelings. What factors would make a
seemingly harmless room turn into a horrorshow? If you get the chills reading
over your story, chances are that your readers will too.
Here are some settings/things that
personally creep me out and perhaps will creep you guys out, too:
- Long, dark hallways
- Antique mirrors
- Forests at night
- Abandoned paths
- Literally any fucking abandoned
place like highkey get me the fuck out of there
- A room that’s empty except for a
creepy thing sitting in the center like a doll or something
- Being alone in dark houses, even
if that house is your own
- Living room with the lights off,
nothing illuminating it except the TV that’s showing static
- Stuffed animals that have been
- Footprints belonging to no one
- Disembodied voices
- fucking SCAMPERING like holy shit
on those let’s plays I shit my pants whenever I hear a little
kid/animal/whatever the fuck skittering around somewhere behind me
- Breathing that isn’t your own
- Old mansions that creak in the
- Cemeteries, especially when you’re
standing over a grave and expect hands to reach up and grab your ankle
- Deserted streets and alleyways
- Dead end streets lit but nothing
but street lamps
- Empty parks at night
- Houses lit only by candlelight
- Normal rooms but you know someone
has died in there/ there have been hauntings in there before
- Things looking through the window,
especially humanoids with glowing eyes
- Footsteps running toward you in
Sometimes, the people within the
story can be the deciding factor on it being creepy. This includes both the
villains, the heroes, and the morally ambiguous peeps in between.
Some people are creepier than
others, and some people are unsettled by different things, and once again you
should choose what best fits your story and what creeps you out the most. Would
you be more scared of an axe-wielding man in a mask standing at the end of your
hallway or two black-eyed little girls holding hands.
Here are some people/characteristics
about people and creatures that would personally freak me out and may freak you
- Large, empty eyes
- Contorted bodies
- Fast skittering and crawling
instead of walking
- Stringy hair
- Sallow, shriveled faces
- Sharp teeth
- White eyes/ no eyes/ completely
- Basically look at the
illustrations of any “Scary stories to tell in the dark” book and you’ll get
what I mean
- Suspicious/eerie dialogue
HOPE THIS HELPED!
Holy shit I’m writing this at night
and just had to go get up and close my door because it’s behind me and I was
afraid something was going to creep up and pounce on me. Thanks guys.
summary: Tom Holland was your best friend growing up, but as his acting career took off–the two of you fell out of touch. However, past feelings for him rise up again as a wedding invitation from him arrives for you in the mail.
pairings: tom holland x reader
word count: 3.1k
warnings: a lot of angst, a lot of explicit swearing
a/n: this shit y’all–whew–i was FEELIN the angst with this one guys, it was bananas. i loved it. i also tried to incorporate more of his family into it, and also a very made-up side character. enjoy, babes!
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” you asked, your voice carrying in the sweet summer breeze.
Tom looked up from the flower crown he was weaving together, his brow furrowing in thought. “I don’t know….maybe an actor.”
“An actor?” you smiled, plucking a daisy from the grassy field. “Why?”
“I want to make people smile and make people laugh,” he replied, his hands stilling in his lap. “I want to make people feel things, you know?”
Small headcanon, I like to think Shock loves and observes astronomy/astrology, especially now that she has a lot more free time with Oogie gone and all. When she tries to explain what it is and why she likes it to the others, she tries at first but ends up just fucking with them
What if the whole Zevran offers to pick locks but has insufficient skill thing isn’t because he’s lying but because Antiva uses different locks?
Like, that’s a country with a heavy assassin presence. Everyone is theoretically in danger, and most people don’t want to die. So they do what they can to slow the Crows down, and that includes complex puzzle locks.
It doesn’t work forever. Eventually the Crows catch on and start training their recruits how to unlock those - any assassin worth their salt needs to be able to get through a locked door - but it still takes a couple extra seconds to work, so people keep using them. Eventually, the Crows stop teaching people how to lock pick standard locks entirely, because they’re just not used in Antiva. Even for things that need to be opened quickly, people opt for combination locks.
Those kind of locks don’t catch on in the south. Any Fereldan worth assassinating has at least three dogs and trusts them more than any lock. Orlais adopts the practice for like 30 seconds before deciding that they’re not worth it because it makes secret meetings take longer, and also certain locks have become trendy and thus easy to guess. Besides, they invite potential assassins into their homes all the time. Puzzle locks, as far as the Game is concerned, are cheating.
Usually the Crows train any of their people going south on how to pick standard locks. They don’t with Zevran. They don’t even bother to let him know about the difference. They really don’t think he’s going to succeed, they don’t necessarily want him to, and he’s pretty obviously checked out.
Zevran, competent at puzzle locks because all Crows have to be, is completely at a loss the first time the Warden points him at a locked chest.
Looking after him, or rather, making sure he looks after himself.
Being his contact with John, because John still wants Sherlock to be okay, even if he doesn’t want to talk to him.
Being woken up by Sherlock searching through your clothes, throwing everything on top of you on the bed until he finds a silk scarf, which he takes out with him into the kitchen, slamming your bedroom door behind him.
“Oh did I wake you up? My apologies.”
Mycroft keeping an eye on you. You get annoyed at him for this until one day he sees you walking home in the pouring rain and picks you up. You say he can come in for tea but he declines and quickly leaves.
Sherlock playing the violin very loudly when he wants you to wake up. “Oh good you’re up, read this.”
Locking your bedroom door so Sherlock can’t get in. He quickly picks it so you install several different locks and puzzles to stop him from getting in. It turns into a little bit of a game so you don’t really mind when Sherlock shows up lying at the end of your bed one morning after spending the whole night trying to unlock your door. “I did it.” He says groggily.
Playing cards late at night. Sherlock insists on staying awake to wait for news so you stay up with him. Cards is the only way for him to keep you awake and focused (since you’re so competitive) so Sherlock is happy to play card games with you.
You invent games, puzzles and tricks to entertain Sherlock because a confused Sherlock is entertainment to you. Sometimes he pretends he knows the answer but won’t tell you (even though he doesn’t know).
Screaming at him when you’ve had enough, when you’re fed up of his attitude because you care about him and he usually acts indifferent. This ensues.
On the days when it’s too much for you and you’re crying and screaming at him to go away, Sherlock stays and tries to comfort you. Even though you appreciate the effort, Mrs Hudson’s tea and biscuits are much more helpful.
Sherlock telling you he actually does like having you around, even though you can be “a smug pain” sometimes.
Character: Sirius Black Word Count: 1092 Requested?: Yes/No Summary:Sirius finds himself looking after a drunk Y/n, who is determined to make it as difficult as possible for him to do so. Disclaimer: Gif isn’t mine, credit to whoever made it
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The party in the Gryffindor common room was in full swing, people dancing, laughing and drinking the firewhisky that lined the tables. The room was nearly too full for anyone to move around, however all anyone seemed to care about was Gryffindor winning the Quidditch match against Slytherin.
Sirius Black leant casually against a wall on the outskirts of the room, holding a half empty cup of firewhiskey in his hand as he observed the room.
Usually, he’d be right in the centre of everything, dancing with some girl he happened to find. However, tonight it was different. His eyes were locked on the Ravenclaw boy who dared to talk to you, hating him from a distance.
He told himself it was just the natural instinct of a best friend to want to protect you, but knew deep down it was so much more than that.
He didn’t want that boy touching you, because he wanted to be the only one to be able to do that.
He took a sip of his drink before allowing his eyes to wander, just for a few seconds, landing on his best friend James, who seemed to be acting like the giddy dork he was around none other than Lily Evans. Catch him around any other girl, he’d be his usual proud self, yet put him in front of the pretty redhead and he turned into a crushing schoolgirl.
Sirius couldn’t help but shake his head in amusement, before he then began looking around for Remus or Peter - whichever one he found first.
Remus, for once, actually seemed to be having fun. Though usually not the party type, James and Sirius had encouraged him to turn up, just for one night, and reluctantly, the werewolf had agreed.
Look where that got him - having much more fun than his usually overdramatic friend Sirius.
Sirius then, avoiding looking at you and the Ravenclaw, found Peter, who surprisingly, after having one too many shots, seemed to almost be the life of the party, though it was more likely he was just overly excited that James had scored the winning shot of the match.
Sirius often questioned whether his little rat friend was in love with James and his talent.
“Sirius dance with me!” He suddenly heard someone slur from his left. Turning, he couldn’t help the smile that graced his face when he saw it was you. Clearly intoxicated, you nearly fell into your best friend in your attempt to get to him faster. “Y/n! A-Are you drunk?” Sirius asked in shock, holding onto your body and pulling you close to him.
“What? Nooo..” you giggled, then began to slide a hand slowly down his chest, heading towards his pants. “Whatcha doing there?” Sirius said as he grabbed you hand to prevent it from moving lower.
You pouted, and leaned up to his ear, “Don’t you want to have some fun tonight?”
If it were in any other circumstances, Sirius would have jumped at the chance for a night with you, especially after being in love with you for so long now. But you were drunk - these thoughts weren’t your own, and he could only feel a little down about that.
“Trust me doll, any other time I would, but right now we need to get you to bed,” Sirius said as he once again steadied you on your feet.
“Do I have to?” You whined. Sirius didn’t bother replying, and instead started to lead you up the stairs to your dorm room.
It was one of the only times the stairs hadn’t knocked him back down.
He opened the door to your dorm and helped you inside as you muttered incoherent things to yourself, clinging onto Sirius’ neck.
You collapsed onto the bed as Sirius sat down and rested your feet on his lap, so he could take your shoes off for you. He placed them under your bed, before leaning over your body to try and take of your necklace, in case if caused you problems whilst you were asleep.
He ignored the closeness of your bodies, trying to distract himself from behind pressed against you, when you said, “I really like his position.” You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, a leg gently looping around his as you tried to lift your hips to meet his.
“And you are a very sexual drunk, baby girl, but I can’t do this to you. I won’t,” he said in a low tone, stroking your cheek with his finger as he pulled away from you with the necklace, trying not to hurt your leg as he untangled it from around his. “Then just stay with me,” you muttered sleepily, holding onto his arm so he couldn’t stand up.
Sirius’ heartbeat sped up. Did you just ask him to stay longer?
Without a word, Sirius placed the necklace on your beside table, slipping out of his trousers and climbing into the bed with you, instantly wrapping his arms around you. You looked up into his dark brown eyes, mesmerised by the way they were gazing back at you with such adoration. Your stare flickered down to his soft lips, and in your drunk state, you convinced yourself it was the perfect idea to lean over and-
Sirius thought his head was going to explode from feeling so many emotions at once when your lips brushed his. He could taste the alcohol on you, and knew, deep down, that you were just doing this because you were intoxicated. However, he pushed that out of his mind, if only for a few moments, to savour something that he would cherish forever.
You pulled away, seemingly content with kissing him, and snuggled into his chest, listening to his rising heartbeat as it lulled you to sleep.
Sirius couldn’t believe what you had just done. He couldn’t believe that you had actually kissed him. Him, your best friend, of all people. Sure, you’d been making sexual advances all night, but he never thought you’d actually do something about it without passing out first.
He couldn’t believe he had you in his arms, holding onto him so tight. He pushed a loose strand of hair out of your face, and just watched how beautiful you looked, lying beside him with your dress clothes still on, and makeup half smudged across the pillow.
Sirius smiled to himself in a bittersweet kind of way.
You may not remember the kiss by the morning, but he was sure that he would never forget it.