Welcome to the New Weeaboo Stories, picking up where old Weeaboo Stories Left off!
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Tales of a Stalker
When I was 15, I moved across the country to go to a specialized charter art high school. The move itself was very difficult and it was definitely a bit of a culture shock. My previous school was an art school as well, but it was less specialized and the visual arts courses were basically the classes that student with behavioral problems were put into to get an easy A. Of course, because it was less regulated, there was so much room for weebs who wanted nothing to do with the mandatory drawing exercises and only attended that class because they thought that it was a class where you could just draw manga all day. My mom and I felt as though it was necessary to switch to a school where visual art is taken more seriously since I had decided that I wanted to actually become an artist for a living.
Bamaka The Terrible
Trigger warning : discussion of rape and self harm. Sorry, it’s long!
So there’s a girl at my old high school (I graduated) who I will call Bamaka. Bamaka has a lot of weeby qualities. She’s not exactly healthy, yet her everyday outfit usually consists of a tight camisole top and a short pleated skirt which lead to her unintentionally flashing people regularly. She also has a smell about her. Sometimes she wears large, ostentatious cosplay wigs to school that are digustingly tangled, as though she keeps them in a pile in her closet. And of course, she traces manga and pretends she drew it, and violently defends “her” work if questioned. I forget how exactly I met her, but a lot of my interactions with her were through Creative Writing Club. My best friend (Sammy) and I actually started our friendship through mutual dislike of Bamaka. Since Bamaka has many traits and I have had extensive interactions with her, I will break them up so as not to have a wall of text.
1 - Sammy and Bamaka
Sammy is in the same grade as Bamaka and has had the unfortunate luck of sharing classes with her. Bamaka for some reason thinks Sammy is a really close friend of hers, despite Sammy trying to be as standoffish as possible. At one point, Bamaka insisted that she borrow Sammy’s phone to text her “boyfriend” (I will call him Sebu, and he is a boy she met online who she has never met in person; she has a different one of these every year). Bamaka claimed that her phone was taken by the FBI to help solve her “rape” (more about that later), but it turns out her parents had taken it away for roleplay-sexting. That is exactly what she and Sebu did on Sammy’s phone, usually as Sebastian from Black Butler and some OC of Bamaka’s. She didn’t even bother deleting the messages, so Sammy and I read them afterwards. It was disgusting, the classic “oh sebu -blushes-” format, and definitely not appropriate to be doing on someone else’s phone. When Sammy asked them to stop, both Bamaka and Sebu turned on her, insulted her and called her names, and acted like they were victims. Later in the year, when Sammy started seeing a boy, Bamaka would look over her shoulder at her phone and comment on some pictures or text she would happen to see as if they were so scandalous and disgusting, when actually Bamaka had done worse ON THE SAME PHONE. She also made repeated comparisons between Sammy’s boyfriend and Sebu, always making Sebu out to be much better.
2 - Imaginary Problems and Bamaka
There are unfortunately some people who make up ailments or problems for themselves to seem special. Bamaka is one of them. The main “problem” of hers is that she claims to have been raped a number of years ago. The story always changes and several key details are missing, despite the fact that she tells the rape story to many, many people, often unprovoked and randomly. This is what makes me and many others think her story is a lie. As if this wasn’t bad enough, she has named a student in our school as the rapist. Now, I have had classes with this boy, and while he can be a bit of a dick he is nowhere near rapist territory. He could get in LOTS of trouble for this.
If there’s one thing Bamaka loves, it is fanfiction. She writes a lot of Soul Eater fanfiction, always pairing Soul and Maka romantically. They’re very poorly written and extremely author avatar-Mary Sue. After a little while, her stories started to feature Maka getting raped, cutting herself, having other mental problems, witnessing brutal murder, etc. One in particular was about Maka cutting herself regularly because she couldn’t admit that she loved Soul, and eventually downing a handful of Benadryl and dying (she’s resurrected afterwards). While this may not sound so awful as it is, Bamaka included several Author’s Notes at the bottom flat-out ADMITTING that this was an author avatar story and “she was doing in real life what Maka was doing in the story”. Ignoring the fact that the story included Maka slicing arteries without dying and other obviously impossible things, after reading this I went to school and looked at Bamaka’s arms (where Maka cut in the story). They were as smooth as a baby’s ass. No cuts. As someone who has struggled with self-harm, and someone with friends who were GENUINELY sexually assaulted, the fact that she was faking it for attention or to be “edgy” online made me very, very pissed off at her. She has also recently taken up the unfortunate “trend” of diagnosing herself with bipolar disorder and PTSD.
3 - Creative Writing Club and Bamaka
As mentioned before, Bamaka loves her fanfiction. For a while, she would submit it to the school’s Creative Writing Club, which I was a member of for three and a half years, despite there being a general consensus that fanfiction was not allowed (due to the fact that we could not critique it for content without knowing the context, and we actively discouraged critiquing grammar/spelling alone). Submissions were also supposed to be anonymous so that everyone would give unbiased reviews, but Bamaka somehow always managed to “let it slip” that it was her. The few times we agreed to critique her fanfiction, we had no choice but to only critique the grammar (which she was bad at). And she never listened. It was always “oh, Microsoft Word did it” or “it would make sense if you read the manga” etc. She would also pull out her battered copies of Soul Eater and show everyone pictures for reference. After two years of this, we flat-out banned fanfiction. When we weren’t reading her pieces, Bamaka never offered criticism for any other pieces - often she’d text on her phone and giggle loudly or draw manga characters. Creative Writing Club also sponsored open-mic “coffeehouse” events in the auditorium. Students could read personal writing, share a piece of music (though that was not encouraged so much), do a small skit, etc. Bamaka loved these. At first, she would get up on the mic and talk about her “boyfriend” problems - which eventually led to the club leaders making her get off the stage. However, that led to worse: her singing in “Japanese”. She would stand onstage for a good five minutes and sing something that nobody could understand, in a terrible American accent. Reportedly, she did this in class, too. When that didn’t fly, she starting singing English dubs of anime openings such as Black Butler and Soul Eater. She would also make loud commotion and be distracting whenever someone else stood up.
tl;dr : Weeb steals friend’s phone to have roleplay sex, pretends to have mental problems, forces bad fanfiction on a school club, sings in terrible Japanese, and desperately craves attention from everyone
The Keychain Thief
I have been going to a small con in my hometown for about five years. This year, my art had gained some popularity on Tumblr and Deviantart, so I decided that I would get a booth at the con and try to make some money off of my work. I got some prints, buttons and keychains together to sell.
The day of the con finally came and I set up my booth with my friend, X. Everything was going well and people were really interested in my work. That is, until the weeaboo came along. She pushed her way through the small crowd around the table and picked up a handful of keychains.
“KAWAII!!!!” she screeched. She flipped through all of the keychains she picked up and chose a few from the bunch that she liked. Then, shockingly, she shoved them into her bag and just walked away.
I was stunned at first, because I really wasn’t expecting someone to steal like that. X got up and went after her. As soon as the weeb saw X, she started sprinting, and she was fast. But X was faster. X caught up to her and managed to get the keychains out of her bag. The weeb was screaming, which of course attracted con security. X explained the situation to them and they took the weeb away.
Other than that incident, the con went smoothly. If I decide to sell again next year, I will have to keep an eye out for the weeb.
TMI with a Stranger
sort of a short story and not really anywhere near as bad as some on here, but I wanted to share it anyway.
Back when I was around 14 I went to a local con, all went well there minus a few odd experiences. It was in the aftermath things got a bit weird. As used to be the thing, I added basically everyone I met or who went to the con on facebook in the post hype of it all, because I was naive and liked being part of a group. In any case, a guy (we’ll call him Vee) I hadn’t actually met in person started messaging me and I was like ‘great! new friends’ so I carried on the conversation. Vee was quite a bit older than me, at least 10 years I think, and started calling me ‘leah-chan’ straight off the bat. This probably should’ve set off warning bells, but at the time I was a weeb (as we all were) and it was like a nickname or something. Then it progressed on to little sister (imouto I think?) after one conversation, but I just put it down to friendship again which was dumb. I get this doesn’t seem that creepy at the moment but I guess it progresses.
I created a monster
Vampire addicts name: SS
Friend me and vampire addict had in common: HK
Okay, so it all started my freshman year of high school and it was kind of a huge change for me because I had only been in private school before and everyone had always told me that public schools were SO terrible (little did i know I had more opportunity there than I ever had in private school). When I switched I was slightly terrified so i never talked to ANYONE. It was to the point where I would get my lunch and go sit in the bathroom and call my best friend just so I could finally talk to someone.
These two girls (SS and HK) that always sat at their own table during lunch always noticed I would take off after receiving my lunch and not be in the cafeteria or courtyard. They asked where I would go, and of course I didn’t want to tell them I was in the bathroom by myself eating lunch, so I would lie and say I would go to the library during lunch. I guess they felt bad I had no friends or anyone to sit with there so they asked if I wanted to sit with them and finally getting a bit tired of eating in the restroom I said yes (also in hopes of finally getting friends).
Weaboo cousin from hell
Okay so this is a story about my cousin, who we’ll just call L.
So whenever I was like 9 or 10 and way before I ever even started liking anime, my family had traveled down during the summer to visit the rest of my family. Well my cousin was super antisocial and “weird” (she wore a Naruto headband all the time and gloves) and she stayed in the house most of the time. Well one day I stayed inside with her and after a while she calls me over to show me a video. The vid she had showed me was of Mitsuki from Full Moon O Sagashite performing one of her solos. I was completely mesmerized by it and when I got home I looked up the video and ended up watching the entire series. That’s what started it all.
So fast forward to a couple years later and I’m 13 and still into anime. I had been begging my mom to let me go to an anime convention and with help from L’s dad she caved in and let me go to one she was also going to. Everything was going smooth until we found out L’s dad couldn’t take her, but my mom stepped in and said that L could go with us and just room with us the entire time there. We had planned to get there Thursday (to pick up early badges and all that jazz) and leave Sunday.
At first L was super nice and respectful and we caught up a bit on everything and talked about some anime on the ride there and she had told us about her being in the dance competition there and how she had everything planned but then she remembered that she had forgot her laptop cord. Well we really couldn’t go all the way back home since it was a 2 hour drive plus traffic and she called her dad’s friend (she comes into the story again later) who had just gotten out of surgery to see if she could get it. That meant that the poor lady would have to drive 2 hours back to her home just to get a cord.
This story is not terribly traumatic, but it was a memorable experience for my first year selling at a con.
A few months ago, my friend and I decided to get a table for a flea market-like event for secondhand items. (I’m not entirely sure what to call it outside of it’s proper name, but do not want to disclose that to provide anonimity for those involved). It was pretty last-minute, and we both had our reasons: she was moving out for college soon, and I simply wanted to purge my collection of middle school ex-weeaboo merch. Our table mostly consisted of mainstream manga, plushies, and cheap figurines (Naruto, Hetalia, etc).
Because of the nature of the items being sold, and the inevitability of running into at least a few wackos at these things, I did have fear that our table would attract them like moths to the flame. However, that wasn’t the case for most of the night, and we actually met some delightful customers who shared our (updated) interests. There were a few oddballs who started strange (but unmemorable) conversations, but otherwise, it was a very nice evening.
Until Belarus appeared.
So, before I begin this story, you (the reader) must know a little about me. I watch a lot of anime and draw fanart of it. Because of this, I know plenty about weeaboos.
This story took place in 8th grade, where I got my very own weeb stalker. It was the first day of school, during Science period. I was doodling a chibi before the bell rang, and as soon as it sounded, a boy sits down in the desk next to mine. Let’s call him Neko. This boy was obviously a weeaboo at first sight. He had tattered cat ears on top of his scraggly, greasy hair and had a Naruto tshirt on. And he didn’t exactly smell the greatest. He leaned over onto my desk and asked what I was drawing. I showed him, and he got this huge smile on his face. “So you like anime!” he said. Then the questions began.
“Have you seen Death Note?” Neko asks.
“Yeah.” I replied.
Neko continuously asked me if I’ve watched so-and-so animes. I replied yes to all of them, because, well, I had seen all of them.
Then, Neko stopped the questions.
“I know you’re lying about watching those animes.” Neko says, suddenly getting all serious.
“What?” I said, dumbfounded.
“The animes I asked you about are for boys, desu! You’re a girl!” he shouts
(Forgive me if I’ve made any errors submitting. I’m somewhat new to Tumblr, but I felt the need to share this story, as it’s relevant to your blog. If anything needs to be added, please inform me, I’ll do my best to provide.)
I recently took part in a local fur convention (it was a fairly decent con, attendance of 2500 or so. Alright for something local.) I purchased a one day booth at their artist’s alley, selling a few prints of some of my particularly better works. Day was going normal, and my friend (I’ll refer to her as X) swapped out booth management for me so I could walk around in-suit for a while and try to draw some attention to my stand. Everything was going normally, and I got a decent few buyers, and a couple commissions from some congoers.
Then, out of the blue, I hear this dreadful squealing coming from the direction of my booth. I see this rather rotund girl, maybe around 18/19 years, handling one of my canvas prints. She was in some sort of, what I am assuming was meant to be Okami, cosplay. (Not a fursuit. A kemonomimi type thing, complete with badly put together hand-sewn wolf tail and ears, and a much too revealing dress/corset getup. It’s not something, in my experience, I’ve typically seen at furcons; I’ve only seen such getups at animecons, really.)
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Naruto Headband ‘Photographer’
I was at a massive con, it was the second day I was there. Now, I didn’t have the money for a full costume this time so I put together some things and bought some jewelry and made a pretty lovely woodsprite-y outfit.
So I’m walking around, and as I’m asking about the prices of some earrings I get tapped on the shoulder. It’s a massive, 20-something year old neckbeard who probably hasn’t washed a day in his life. He’s got a camera on him and is sporting a scratched-up naruto headband. He says he’s a hobby photographer and he wants to go outside and take some pics of me in a tree or something.
I look over at the people behind the stall counter and give them a “what do i do?” look. They gave me sympathetic looks back, so I turn to this guy and politely decline his request.
He grabs my shoulder and starts pleading with me saying “But you have such a pretty costume, I feel lonely, I just want to be taking beautiful photos” etc etc.
So I back away from the stall a little (thinking I can get swept up in the crowd and use that as an excuse to leave) and smile at him, and say no again. This time he comes right up to me and says he’ll “rape me in the bathrooms if i don’t go outside with him.”
I’m scared shitless at this point, but I’m 6ft tall and he was probably 5”7, so I thought that if worse comes to worse, I could fight him off. So I nod, smile, and tell him to follow me.
I walk straight up to the outside door, because that’s where I know the con security is. Now, Mr. Creepy Photographer thinks I’m leading him outside.
I very quietly tell the security that the man had threatened me, and they called the police on him straight away. The people at the stall had heard it all so they vouched for me, and Mr. Creepy Photographer was brought back to the police station, while another officer stayed behind to talk to me. The officer made sure I felt calm, and he made me a coffee and asked me a few more questions about Mr. Creepy Photographer.
A few days later I got a call from the same officer - It turned out that the guy had raped a girl behind a stadium at another con, and left before she could report it. Her family was notified, and he’s now serving 8 years of prison.
I have never been so freaked out in my life, so I don’t go to cons anymore and stay well away from any weird men in naruto headbands.