Welcome to the New Weeaboo Stories, picking up where old Weeaboo Stories Left off!
Is that even what they’re saying in Japanese?
Mod D: Is this a joke or for real?
So I’m on youtube and I found this little gem
Submit Anon: Japan Is Not A Magical Land Of Moe Moe Desu
All names have been changed for privacy.
My father is a colonel in the Air Force, so as such, my family has been all over the world. At one point, we were stationed in Okinawa, Japan for a good four years, with us moving back to America the summer before I started high school. You can see where this is going.
As it turns out, we were re-stationed at my dad’s last air base, and a lot of my old friends from elementary school were going to the same high school I would be going to. I had started reading manga in Japan, but it was one of those friends, Anna, that really helped me get into anime, particularly Sailor Moon, Soul Eater, Angel Beats, and Higurashi. Another, Ivy, introduced me to Vocaloid, which I loved the concept of since I’m a musician.
However, I very quickly realized that one of my old friends, Nelly, was indeed a weeaboo. Anna’s older sister had been one for as long as I can remember, and since Nelly and Anna had become good friends while I was gone, I didn’t really have to guess who had gotten Nelly into anime. Nelly was your typical weeb. She hung around with the school’s other resident weebs, she spoke in broken and out-of-context Japanese, and she claimed to be married to various anime characters. At first, her weeb-ism didn’t really affect out friendship, and I made it clear that she wasn’t to pester me about Japan, so I just rolled my eyes and let it slide when she had her kawaiidesu moments. The trouble started when her friends found out about where I had lived for the past four years.
Nelly had three other weeb friends, Susan, Bella, and Abigail. Everyone I’ve mentioned up to this point was in my school’s anime club, which Ivy is president of, and is where most of the action in this story went down. One day, when we were all sitting around and waiting for the meeting to start, Susan came up to me and squealed, “OH MY KAMI-SAMA, NELLY-CHAN TOLD ME YOU LIVED IN JAPAN, IS IT TRUE?” Since I had never really dealt with a weeb that knew no boundaries up to that point, I told her yes.
She ran over to her friends, and they proceeded to squeal about how sugoi it was that I went to their school in typical weeaboo bullshit-ese. Now, Susan was by far the worst out of the four. She was the type of weeb who would physically fight with you if you claimed to hate one of her favorite characters, and plastered her DA account with fanart of her OCs and yaoi drawings.
I do commissions for anime club as a way to raise money for my cosplays, and I make it very clear what I will and will not take. However, this didn’t stop them from coming over and asking me if I knew any Japanese. I did, but I wasn’t about to let the know that. When I said no, they then asked if I would draw them “hot yaois of [insert bishonen here] and [insert other bishonen here]. I told them that I didn’t accept commissions for yaoi OR yuri fanart, and they naturally threw a fit. Fortunately, the meeting started then, and they didn’t have the chance to gang up on me again. This was in mid-September.
My next confrontation with them was in October, during anime club’s official cosplay meeting. Our school had allowed everyone to wear their Halloween costumes, and it was fun trying to guess who was who. Naturally, the weeb quartet didn’t want to miss out. Nelly had covered her face in makeup in what I now realize was an extremely poor attempt at a Bacterial Contamination cosplay. Susan was Miku from Love Philosophia. Abigail was attempting to do a humanized Eevee. But Bella’s was the worst. All she was wearing was a Yurippe headband, yet she was claiming to be “cosplaying”. When I set up my booth in the back, they practically pounced on me, gushing about how lucky I was and asking if Japan was really as (and I quote) “moe moe desu” as it was supposed to be. My attempts to inform them that Okinawa was a far cry from Tokyo were to no avail, only to prompt another flurry of questions about whether or not I had dated any Japanese boys and that they would totally sell their souls to marry one.
Now, I many things. Patient is not one of them. I told them that they needed to stop fetish-ising an entire culture and to leave me alone if they knew what was good for them. I told them that Japan is a lot more similar to America than they thought, and that the only big difference is that Japan didn’t have annoying America fangirls. At this point, they lost it, and Abigail proceeded to throw a textbook at me. It hit me right in the side of the head, and I can affirm that it hurt like hell. Apparently, I was out for a few seconds, because everyone was gathered around me when I opened my eyes and realized I was lying on the floor. Anna filled me in: Ivy had gotten really mad at all four weebs and told them that she was kicking them out of anime club, and that they had better hope I didn’t have anything more than a bump on the head. They ran for it before Ivy could call a teacher, but Abigail was later expelled, and Nelly, Susan, and Bella were suspended after they harassed me via my DeviantArt account.
It’s been about a month since everything happened, and fortunately, the worst damage the textbook did was making my right temple really tender. However, the doctor did warn that I was very lucky and that taking another hit there could result in a severe concussion. My parents are allowing me to go to anime club again, and I’ve broken off my friendship with Nelly. Anna and Ivy make sure they don’t bother me anymore, but I’ll always have memories.
Submit Anon: This isn’t going to end well, is it?
It’s about time that I share with this blog my first weeaboo experience (which will likely expand, more on that later). Please note that English is not my first language and I therefore apologize in advance for any mistakes.
In this story the weeb will be called Tuna-chan and my (sane) friend will be called Pen.
It all started off with me volunteering to work in our school’s library. Like the college itself it’s quite a small little place, with not the widest range of books on offer, yet most likely enough to satisfy the odd student. It was almost always empty or very quiet because unfortunately there are very few people in our school who actually take an interest in reading books.
Anyways - I had volunteered to work in this library during our second free period, and for the first week all was pretty good. My friend Pen used to come in and chat to me sometimes, maybe to even help out a little. She aspired to become a librarian too once she’d finished her run in the Christmas performance (this story takes place in November).
However there soon came a new girl who had also apparently signed up to become a librarian as well.
Submit Anon: History Teachers
Seeing as I was a child bullied in middle school, I never truly had a weeb phase. The closest I ever got to a weeb phase was begging my best friend’s sister to call this man who work with the studio that made Spirited Away, Howl’s Moving Castle and all those fantastic movies. Other than that I mostly just sniffled ((from either being bullied til I cried or from being sick half to dang time.)) and watching either Death Note, Soul Eater or Bleach. Now then I did not realIze there were two weebs in my new history class, my former teacher moved so we got a new teacher… Her name was Miss Tanaka, and she was a very lovely Japanese woman, and very into her culture. She wore a kimono to the first day to introduce herself and her background. The two weebs in the background merely stared in amazement at our teacher. So fast forward to a few months our Japanese teacher decided to dedicate a day to show us some Japanese culture. She brought two kimonos to class. For us to try on. One of the weebs tried on the women’s kimono, which fit around his beanpole body. And I was pushed forward to try on the man’s kimono which was very comfortable. The other weeb glared at me with her beady eyes ((beside that hambeast face)) so our teacher teaches us about Japan and it’s history and the area from which she came from. And she eve taught us a little bit of Japanese, like Hello, goodbye, how are you, and I love you. But of course halfway through the lesson weebs 1 and 2 decided to jolt up and ask “what about anime?!” Our history teacher looked at them and said. “Well, anime doesn’t really connect to history as it’s a more modern thing… But I suppose I can talk about it’d for a bit.” She spoke briefly about the history of animation and how anime came to be and after that day. The weebs began to sputter what little Japanese they knew. Claimed themselves experts on Japan and I don’t know HOW but both of them starting wear kimono’s to class… Which was against our uniform dress code. Anyways both of them were suspended for harassing my poor history teacher, after that Miss Tanaka never spoke another word of her culture. I visited her recently and she has every bit of anything resembling Japanese culture ((save for a tiny Japanese flag)) hidden away.
Submit Anon: ” I will break you if you don’t listen to me, I am the Princess.”
All is peacefull, there is the slight humming in the air from the combined efforts of several teen’s headphones, the comforting “click-clack” sounds of a woman typing away on her laptop, and nothing else but the breathing of everyone else around me. Yes, the library is one of the best places on this Earth, in my opinion. The calm and quiet almost gives reinsurance, and a feeling of safety I so often am without. However, good things all do come to an end, I suppose. That light sound of breath that once filled the air intensified, becoming raspy and forced, almost painful to listen to. I lift my gaze up from one of my favorite books, ” The Little Prince”, to see what the disturbance was, as many others seemed to follow my decision. There, stomping into the room, stood a female of massive proportions, that I will now attempt to describe for you all..
"Maybe I can hear Tobi if I put it to Japanese!"
In the 4th and 5th grade, I was a scary fucking weeaboo.
My sister was the one to introduce me to Anime and Manga at age 8. I enjoyed it casually, but after the 3rd grade and during the summer break I started to go through the dreaded weeb stage. At first I just said “Kawaii” occasionally and played Soul Calibur and Tekken a lot. But the second 4th grade started, it escalated quickly. I would come to school bragging of my knowing of Japanese, when really I only knew how to say “Tobi is a good boy”, dress…oddly, and all in all suck shit at drawing. I mean, my art was bad in the beginning, but this…just ugh. Anyway, I met a friend we’ll call “Xiaoyu” in the first few weeks. She had no idea what Anime was, but she would bear with me blabbing on and on about how I was gonna go to Japan next summer and become an Anime director. During that first week, I started to develop an odd obsession with Tobi, an Akatsuki Member from Naruto who I know view as mentally retarded. I always made little “nya” noises at pictures of him, and bless Xiaoyu’s soul she dealt with it. I was incredibly rude to her, and also very emotional. Once when she invited me to spend the night, I refused to eat because she didn’t have ramen, which I barely liked at the time. Anyway, my obsession with Tobi grew to a point where I made a shrine of him. On my wall, I took all the drawing of him I made and taped them up in some sort of heart formation, and always talked about it and acted as if I didn’t want people to know of it. I even annoyed my sister in Soul Calibur 2 by changing the voices to Japanese and claiming “I only change it to Japanese to hear Yoshi-kun talk in Tobi’s voice!” Soon enough I started to obsess over Japan more than Tobi. I remember clearly that I used to horde literally all the Japanese things in my house in my room, despite what they were. I even hid a plate because it said Japan on the bottom. In the 5th grade, I started to use Japanese more and went from Tobi to Hidan, another Akatsuki member. I would draw Jashin signs all over the playground and cry when people called them weird. I also bragged about being an Otaku (which I really am now, despite it being an insult) by showing them my shitty comics on TheOtaku.com and my horrifying IMVU account. Xiaoyu was going to a different school by now, so I was very lonely until I met another weeb we’ll call “Asuka”. Asuka was much, much worse than I, yet I worshiped her. I always talked of my crazy obsession with Hidan and laughed when she made stupid jokes about Hetalia. In the 6th grade this all vanished…except the Hidan obsession, which changed to Steve Fox, my VG crush who I still like today. To this day, though, I am an average Anime fan who still likes Tekken and Soul Calibur, but I always remember my weeaboo phase and cringe deeply.
Submit Anon: Boobs Do Not A Girl Make
I have several Weeb encounters I could probably share, but this most recent one just stands out because of just how ballsy this Weeb was.
I was in a local used bookstore with my mom, perusing the manga section. I’m not actually that big of a manga or anime fan anymore, but I try to keep up with series I read in my Anime phase, such as Berserk. Right across form me is what I can only describe as a furry OKCupid weeb from the furthest rung of Hell. The guy was sitting on one of the rolling stepstools that you aren’t supposed to sit on, with his greasy hair in a Duncan MacLeod ponytail and fox ears and I swear this guy isn’t important, he just kicks off the plot. I’m sure someone somewhere in the world has some Weeb stories to tell about that guy. I keep hearing him to turn around, and finally, as I’m looking at one of the sex scenes in Berserk, I hear ‘Yiff Yiff’ and this stupid giggle.
So last year I was going through some psychological issues, and I ended up being hospitalized. I was in the hospital several times before, so it seemed relatively normal. Until a week passed, and a new patient arrived. Let’s call him D (since I can’t remember his real name anyway).
Right off the bat, D seemed like your typical weirdo. He’d pretend to be other patients, or go by different names (most of them Japanese or fake-Korean), and even the nurses would get pissed off at him since the only reason he was even in the hospital was because he wasn’t taking his ADHD medication. There was a young Chinese woman there, whom he would constantly harass and ask if she was Japanese. He’d start speaking broken Japanese to her, which she couldn’t understand and thought he was just a lunatic. I usually stayed away from the other patients, but D ended up introducing himself to me anyway when the Chinese girl told him off (which he admitted later was really “kawaii”).
After a while, he started drawing pictures. Anime pictures. Now, back then I was a mild fan of anime myself. I was actually beginning to outgrow it, having become ashamed of my own weeaboo phase back when I was fourteen. But this MAN CHILD was twenty four. He always kept his eyes wide open and said that he had “anime eyes”. Really, it just looked like he was permanently “surprised”. He had this really creepy smile, and he’d call me “kawaii” all the time. He was obsessed with Dragon Ball Z and Yu Yu Hakusho. I guess the reason he decided to fixate on me was because I’m rather small, and I had dyed my hair pink back then, because I’d been going through an “alternative hair style” phase.
One day he suggested that we have a drawing contest, since I’d said that I liked to draw. We had one of the other patients judge our artwork. I won, and I’m not even that good an artist. But he drew like a ten year old that had just discovered hentai. He threw a hissy fit and started screaming and yelling.
The next day he started leaving drawings by my room door. Pictures of us. He’d always draw me looking “shy” or “submissive”, usually him with his arms around me. It was really weird. My roommate told me I should report him for harassment. I said I wouldn’t, since it was just pictures and that I could just ignore him.
Then he started sitting next to me at lunch. I’ve always had issues with food, so while he’d plow through his four plates of junk, he’d question me as to why I wasn’t eating anything. It was mostly because his eating habits were gross. He’d been there about a week by then, and I doubted that he’d bathed even once. He smelt like an old sock. It was awful.
Now, his room was next to mine. We had a joined bathroom, but the bathroom was always locked and we had to get permission to have it unlocked. We had separate shower times. One night, I kid you not, he started singing in really bad Japanese. He’d alternate between the Yu Yu Hakusho theme and the Dragon Ball Z theme. He’s switch between the English dub lyrics and the original Japanese. It was terrible. A lot of people thought he was having a nervous break down, or something to do with his ADHD. Eventually he went to sleep, either because his roommate had told him to shut his cake hole, or because it was three AM. Either way, I didn’t care. I prayed that it never happened again.
Which it did. Not the next night, but the two nights after that.
A week and a half after he’d arrived, his mother came to bail him out. Since he was in no immediate danger, nor a danger to anyone else, he was allowed to go home. I guess the doctors and nurses and techs were as annoyed as I was. As he walked down the hallway, in tow of his mother, he looked back at me with that creepy, pedobear smile.
After that, the nurses pointed out a stable improvement in my condition, which I have no doubt had everything to do with D’s discharge.
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