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Mha_multishipper
Community Member
6 posts
17 comments
30 upvotes
33 points
Hi! I live in England but is half Australian. I usually eat shortbread and Bolognese. My favourite drink is Dr Pepper (Dont judge me...). Plus I love scary stories! I love rock and heavy metal. Also, stranger things and Dungeons and Dragons. Plus space dinos.AND MHA multi-shipping.
Mha_multishipper • started following 7 people 1 year ago
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Hey Pandas, What's The Creepiest Thing That's Happened To You?
13 years old and at the park waiting for my friend. Older kid walks by pushing a moped and says he's walking it to the gas station and tells me I can ride it once he gets gas. I walk with him to get gas and right before we get there, he points to a row of hedges that run along a ditch and says he built a clubhouse in there and asked if I wanted to see it. I say yes and a minute or two after we get in there he pulls out a knife and tells me to get on my knees or he's going to stab me. I tell him I want to make sure nobody is walking by since the sidewalk was nearby. He agreed and I looked but he stood blocking the way out. He tells me nobody is there and tells me to get back in there. We walk back and I tell him I just wanted to check one last time and when I got close enough I ran for it, hitting my head on the door frame, and ran home. I didn't tell anyone, which I will carry forever knowing all the what ifs, until I had kids of my own to warn them about stranger danger. 😞Hey Pandas, What's The Creepiest Thing That's Happened To You?
13 years old and at the park waiting for my friend. Older kid walks by pushing a moped and says he's walking it to the gas station and tells me I can ride it once he gets gas. I walk with him to get gas and right before we get there, he points to a row of hedges that run along a ditch and says he built a clubhouse in there and asked if I wanted to see it. I say yes and a minute or two after we get in there he pulls out a knife and tells me to get on my knees or he's going to stab me. I tell him I want to make sure nobody is walking by since the sidewalk was nearby. He agreed and I looked but he stood blocking the way out. He tells me nobody is there and tells me to get back in there. We walk back and I tell him I just wanted to check one last time and when I got close enough I ran for it, hitting my head on the door frame, and ran home. I didn't tell anyone, which I will carry forever knowing all the what ifs, until I had kids of my own to warn them about stranger danger. 😞
Hey Pandas, Post Your Fav Horror Story!
Here’s one I found on the internet, Copy and Pasted it. I’ve read it before, it’s called Click Clack the Rattle Bag. By Neil Gaiman. This is part 1. It’s too long to fit in one submission. So I’ll post 2 submissions to give you the whole story. Here we go: “Before you take me up to bed, will you tell me a story?” “Do you actually need me to take you up to bed?” I asked the boy. He thought for a moment. Then, with intense seriousness, “Yes, actually I think you do. It’s because of, I’ve finished my homework, and so it’s my bedtime, and I am a bit scared. Not very scared. Just a bit. But it is a very big house, and lots of times the lights don’t work and it’s a sort of dark.” I reached over and tousled his hair. “I can understand that,” I said. “It is a very big old house.” He nodded. We were in the kitchen, where it was light and warm. I put down my magazine on the kitchen table. “What kind of story would you like me to tell you?” “Well,” he said, thoughtfully. “I don’t think it should be too scary, because then when I go up to bed, I will just be thinking about monsters the whole time. But if it isn’t just a little bit scary then I won’t be interested. And you make up scary stories, don’t you? I know she says that’s what you do.” “She exaggerates. I write stories, yes. Nothing that’s been published, yet, though. And I write lots of different kinds of stories.” “But you do write scary stories?” “Yes.” The boy looked up at me from the shadows by the door, where he was waiting. “Do you know any stories about Click-Clack the Rattlebag?” “I don’t think so.” “Those are the best sorts of stories.” “Do they tell them at your school?” He shrugged. “Sometimes.” “What’s a Click-Clack the Rattlebag story?” He was a precocious child, and was unimpressed by his sister’s boyfriend’s ignorance. You could see it on his face. “Everybody knows them.” “I don’t,” I said, trying not to smile. He looked at me as if he was trying to decide whether or not I was pulling his leg. He said, “I think maybe you should take me up to my bedroom, and then you can tell me a story before I go to sleep, but a very not-scary story because I’ll be up in my bedroom then, and it’s actually a bit dark up there, too.” I said, “Shall I leave a note for your sister, telling her where we are?” “You can. But you’ll hear when they get back. The front door is very slammy.” We walked out of the warm and cosy kitchen into the hallway of the big house, where it was chilly and draughty and dark. I flicked the light-switch, but nothing happened. “The bulb’s gone,” the boy said. “That always happens.” Our eyes adjusted to the shadows. The moon was almost full, and blue-white moonlight shone in through the high windows on the staircase, down into the hall. “We’ll be all right,” I said. “Yes,” said the boy, soberly. “I am very glad you’re here.” He seemed less precocious now. His hand found mine, and he held on to my fingers comfortably, trustingly, as if he’d known me all his life. I felt responsible and adult. I did not know if the feeling I had for his sister, who was my girlfriend, was love, not yet, but I liked that the child treated me as one of the family. I felt like his big brother, and I stood taller, and if there was something unsettling about the empty house I would not have admitted it for worlds. The stairs creaked beneath the threadbare stair-carpet. “Click-Clacks,” said the boy, “are the best monsters ever.” “Are they from television?” “I don’t think so. I don’t think any people know where they come from. Mostly they come from the dark.” “Good place for a monster to come.” “Yes.” We walked along the upper corridor in the shadows, walking from patch of moonlight to patch of moonlight. It really was a big house. I wished I had a flashlight. (ITS TOO LONG I WILL POST THE SECOND PART AS A SUBMISSION AS WELL)Hey Pandas, What Is Your Phobia? (If U Have One.)
I'm scared of heights and open unbroken horizon lines but the only one I actually know the name of is claustrophobia. Basically in short I am scared of literally everything lmao
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Mha_multishipper • submitted 5 new posts 1 year ago
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Hey Pandas, What's The Creepiest Thing That's Happened To You?
13 years old and at the park waiting for my friend. Older kid walks by pushing a moped and says he's walking it to the gas station and tells me I can ride it once he gets gas. I walk with him to get gas and right before we get there, he points to a row of hedges that run along a ditch and says he built a clubhouse in there and asked if I wanted to see it. I say yes and a minute or two after we get in there he pulls out a knife and tells me to get on my knees or he's going to stab me. I tell him I want to make sure nobody is walking by since the sidewalk was nearby. He agreed and I looked but he stood blocking the way out. He tells me nobody is there and tells me to get back in there. We walk back and I tell him I just wanted to check one last time and when I got close enough I ran for it, hitting my head on the door frame, and ran home. I didn't tell anyone, which I will carry forever knowing all the what ifs, until I had kids of my own to warn them about stranger danger. 😞Hey Pandas, Post Your Fav Horror Story!
Here’s one I found on the internet, Copy and Pasted it. I’ve read it before, it’s called Click Clack the Rattle Bag. By Neil Gaiman. This is part 1. It’s too long to fit in one submission. So I’ll post 2 submissions to give you the whole story. Here we go: “Before you take me up to bed, will you tell me a story?” “Do you actually need me to take you up to bed?” I asked the boy. He thought for a moment. Then, with intense seriousness, “Yes, actually I think you do. It’s because of, I’ve finished my homework, and so it’s my bedtime, and I am a bit scared. Not very scared. Just a bit. But it is a very big house, and lots of times the lights don’t work and it’s a sort of dark.” I reached over and tousled his hair. “I can understand that,” I said. “It is a very big old house.” He nodded. We were in the kitchen, where it was light and warm. I put down my magazine on the kitchen table. “What kind of story would you like me to tell you?” “Well,” he said, thoughtfully. “I don’t think it should be too scary, because then when I go up to bed, I will just be thinking about monsters the whole time. But if it isn’t just a little bit scary then I won’t be interested. And you make up scary stories, don’t you? I know she says that’s what you do.” “She exaggerates. I write stories, yes. Nothing that’s been published, yet, though. And I write lots of different kinds of stories.” “But you do write scary stories?” “Yes.” The boy looked up at me from the shadows by the door, where he was waiting. “Do you know any stories about Click-Clack the Rattlebag?” “I don’t think so.” “Those are the best sorts of stories.” “Do they tell them at your school?” He shrugged. “Sometimes.” “What’s a Click-Clack the Rattlebag story?” He was a precocious child, and was unimpressed by his sister’s boyfriend’s ignorance. You could see it on his face. “Everybody knows them.” “I don’t,” I said, trying not to smile. He looked at me as if he was trying to decide whether or not I was pulling his leg. He said, “I think maybe you should take me up to my bedroom, and then you can tell me a story before I go to sleep, but a very not-scary story because I’ll be up in my bedroom then, and it’s actually a bit dark up there, too.” I said, “Shall I leave a note for your sister, telling her where we are?” “You can. But you’ll hear when they get back. The front door is very slammy.” We walked out of the warm and cosy kitchen into the hallway of the big house, where it was chilly and draughty and dark. I flicked the light-switch, but nothing happened. “The bulb’s gone,” the boy said. “That always happens.” Our eyes adjusted to the shadows. The moon was almost full, and blue-white moonlight shone in through the high windows on the staircase, down into the hall. “We’ll be all right,” I said. “Yes,” said the boy, soberly. “I am very glad you’re here.” He seemed less precocious now. His hand found mine, and he held on to my fingers comfortably, trustingly, as if he’d known me all his life. I felt responsible and adult. I did not know if the feeling I had for his sister, who was my girlfriend, was love, not yet, but I liked that the child treated me as one of the family. I felt like his big brother, and I stood taller, and if there was something unsettling about the empty house I would not have admitted it for worlds. The stairs creaked beneath the threadbare stair-carpet. “Click-Clacks,” said the boy, “are the best monsters ever.” “Are they from television?” “I don’t think so. I don’t think any people know where they come from. Mostly they come from the dark.” “Good place for a monster to come.” “Yes.” We walked along the upper corridor in the shadows, walking from patch of moonlight to patch of moonlight. It really was a big house. I wished I had a flashlight. (ITS TOO LONG I WILL POST THE SECOND PART AS A SUBMISSION AS WELL)Hey Pandas, What Is Your Phobia? (If U Have One.)
I'm scared of heights and open unbroken horizon lines but the only one I actually know the name of is claustrophobia. Basically in short I am scared of literally everything lmao
