One of my favourite things on the internet is the insect and invertebrate-themed meme sharing group Entomemeology.  It has its ups and downs, but now and then things get wild, and we end up, for example, in contests to see who can write the hottest trash for one of our mods to read on video.

That’s how I ended up writing this story. When I saw the kind of work the others were turning in, I knew I couldn’t possibly match their excellence (read: mind-boggling steam level) so I let the story stall.

I hate doing that. One of my themes this year is Cleaning the Plate, by which I mean finishing as many stories as I can, just for the exercise. So please enjoy this possibly baffling glimpse into the mental landscape of a most wonderfully peculiar group of scientists, hobbyists, and allied weirdos.

And for fuck’s sake, if you don’t like the content, don’t report, just tag a mod…

So without further ado, please enjoy…

Nearly Double Teamed by the Sentient Manifestations of the Brown Recluse Spider Meme and Angry Reactions to It.

Entomemeology party girl Tara finds herself in the middle of the hottest debate going when she tries to hook up with the embodied Angry Reactions to the Brown Recluse Meme.  But what people say on their socials and what they want in private aren’t always the same.  Sometimes the one you say you hate is the one you crave the most.

~~~

Everyone knows it’s easy to get into trouble at an Entomemology party.  It doesn’t help that the membership is collectively so fucking hot.  But that night only one guy had my attention.

You know who, and trust me, you would have felt the same.  He was just so confident.  Totally immune to criticism.  Welcome in every conversation, able to make just about anyone laugh.

Not everyone, though.  It seemed like every time I turned around the other one was there, scowling at everything Brown Recluse Meme said.  There’s always been tension between Brown Recluse Meme and Angry Reactions to the Brown Recluse Meme.  Rumors, too, that they were enemies in name only.  Otherwise why did Angry keep hanging around?  The rest of us tried to ignore their flare-ups and shit talking, even when we got sucked into their drama.

It was late and the party was getting a little bugs n’ jugs, so I cut out to the backyard for some fresh air.  There he was.  Not the life of the party but his nemesis, Angry Reactions, chilling on the porch swing in the dark.

“See anything you like?” he asked when he caught me staring.

“Sorry.  I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“No problem, Tara.”

Holy shit, he knew my name.  Somehow it made him easier to approach.  “Mind if sit down?” I nodded to the space beside him.

“It’s a free country.”

The swing wobbled when I sat.  “Is this thing safe?”

“I wouldn’t try fucking on it.”

I laughed nervously.  I’d never noticed how good looking he was, with that hard jaw, those dark eyes.  My fault for spending all my time gawking at Brown Recluse Meme.  No surprise that Angry was resentful.

“So what’s a nice Theraphosid like you doing in a place like this?” he said dryly.

“You mean hanging out with a bunch of science nerds and memelords?  I dunno, I like people who understand me.  Who know how to treat a girl like me.  And I like people who can make me laugh.”

He chuckled, a dark rumble that made me shiver.  “Well, I guess I’m shit out of luck,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Apparently I have no sense of humor.”

“You have other qualities.”

“Do I?  Like what?”

Shit.  Here’s the thing you should know about me: I can’t help myself.  I see a hot, single meme, even a reaction, sitting alone at a party, I’m going to try and pick him up.  Or her, when the situation’s right.  Angry Reactions to the Brown Recluse Meme was looking at me like he could tear my clothes off with his eyes.

“So what are my other qualities?” he teased, nudging me with his elbow.

“Persistence.  And you’re pretty smart.  And you’re usually right, even if you aren’t very funny.”

“You’re right.  I am persistent.”  He raised his beer to me, toasted himself.  Maybe I should have said arrogant, too.

“Can I ask you a question?” I said instead.

“As long as you don’t care if I answer.”

“What’s the deal with you and Brown Recluse Meme?  Sometimes it’s like you follow him around, looking for ways to roast him.  Why do you even care?”

“Because he’s an asshole.  He needs to be reminded.”

“You don’t even know him.  Or do you?”

He stared at me blankly.  “I just don’t think he’s as funny as everyone else thinks he is.”

“If he bugs you so much, why do you still hang out with us?”

He looked out over the darkened yard, took a long pull off his beer before answering.  “I don’t know, I thought there’d be more to the group.  And don’t get me wrong, sometimes it’s great.  But every meme I meet, there he is, every fucking time, shouting his own name like that’s the answer to everything.”

“Are you sure you’re not just jealous?”

“Excuse me?”

“That he gets all the attention.”

He looked at me, calculating, and I thought I’d gone too far, until he smiled with a sly turn of his lips.  “Right now, I have your attention.  That’s making up for a lot.”

“You’re not serious.”

“I’m always serious.”

“And yet you’re smiling.”

He rolled his eyes, even hotter when he was frustrated.  “Look, do you want to fight?  Or do you want to fuck?”

“So you are serious.”

“I’m leaving.  You should come with me.”  He got up and started for the garden gate, assuming I’d follow.  Slut that I am, of course I did, frantically texting my bestie as I went.

<<Sorry to ghost but major hookup in progress>>

She replied instantly.  <<Whaaaaaaaa who?>>

<<Deets 2moro dont wait up>>

She straight up called me, but I ignored it, set my phone to silent, and hurried after Angry Reaction.  I might never get another chance.

~~~

I was taking a chance.  I knew they had some history.  Tara was worth it, but as soon as I got out front I saw him, sitting on the curb, flicking through his phone.  He glanced up, then looked again.  “Oh, it’s you.”

“What’s up, fuzzy cheeks?”

“Go to hell,” he said with a laugh.

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

“It is if he calls me that.  Are you taking off?”

“You know me, life of the party.”  I’d wanted to avoid this.  It wasn’t like I hated him.  If anything I cared too goddamn much.  He got up just as Tara came down the garden path and stepped out under the streetlight.

“Well, well, well,” Brown said, his grin slipping as he looked back and forth between us.  “I knew it was only a matter of time.”

“Hey,” she said to him, blushing badly.

“Hey yourself.”

That’s when the rideshare pulled up.  A big black Lincoln, with a back seat like a couch.  I’d been counting on doing some nasty shit on the way home, but that was getting less likely by the second as the other two stood gawking at each other like a couple of high school kids.

Sometimes a meme’s gotta take things into his own hands.

Tara might have had history with Brown Recluse Meme, but me and him, we have History.  A past I can’t forget.  That I can’t let go.  That wouldn’t have to be the past, if he didn’t make me crazy.  A past that sometimes we pretend is our future, one secret night at a time.

I touched Tara’s shoulder and she startled like she was waking up, turned to me with a funny smile.  “We good?” she asked.

“Yep.  I’ll just be a second.”

She looked at Brown, back at me, then shrugged and headed for the car.  He watched her go, his jaw tense with everything he wasn’t saying.

“So you coming or what?”

He turned to me, his eyes wide.  “I’d ask you if you’re serious, but I know what you’re gonna say.”

I started backing towards the waiting car.  “Tick tock, fuzzy cheeks.”

“Don’t tease me like this, dude.”

“Why, you got a better way?”

~~~

I didn’t need it.

But I sure as fuck wanted it.

Sometimes a meme can’t help himself.  Whatever had started between me and him after that huge fight last summer, calling it complicated didn’t even scratch the surface.  If it had just been him, I’d have been in the car already.  Or if I’d seen Tara first.  Mixing her up in our stupid shit wasn’t going to do anybody good.

But fuck, did I ever want it.

If there’s anything I suck at, it’s not getting involved in stupid shit.  If you know me at all, you know this already.  He knew, because he was the stupid shit most of the time.  He knew and was milking it for all it was worth, grinning in that lop-sided way I always wanted to either punch or kiss.  Maybe both, after the week I’d had.  But I couldn’t do either from twenty feet away.

I didn’t run to him.  I walked really quickly, but definitely didn’t run.  I definitely didn’t melt a little bit when he took my hand.  I am pretty sure I didn’t whimper helplessly as he pulled me close, but after that I can’t say because he is really, really good at kissing.

That sour mouth, incapable of telling a joke, of smiling without it seeming ironic, was still the sweetest thing I’d ever tasted.  It felt so right, like we were made to be together, like I didn’t fully exist without him, even when I hated him.  Even when I hurt him, which always seemed to happen.  But then why was he kissing me so hard, barely stopping to breathe, pushing me against the side of the car?  Why did he always forgive me?

Why did I care, when this was all I ever wanted?  That’s why I do it all, why I never shut up.  Because I want him to remember me, think about me when I’m not around, the way I think about him.

“Oh, hell no.”  Tara had got out of the car and was looking at us not with disgust but plain old boredom.  “I’m so not into getting fucked by dudes who wish they were fucking each other.”

“That’s not what this is,” Angry started, but she cut him off with a gesture.  As for me, what could I say?  If I lied, I was a jerk.  If I was honest…I was a different kind of jerk.  The fact that I couldn’t answer said it all.

“I’m sorry.”

She laughed and touched my face softly, stroking my cheek.  “Call me some time.  When you’re not busy.  You too,” she said to Angry.  “You boys have a nice night.”  And with that she walked away, shaking her head.  Laughing.  It hurt, but I’ve never let rejection slow me down.

The car was waiting.  I got in and Angry followed.  He leaned forward to speak to the driver, slipping him a folded banknote.  “This  is for you to ignore the shit out of everything that’s about to happen back here.”

“I’ll turn off the camera,” the driver offered.

“You do that.” 

~~~

“What the fuck just happened?” I said out loud to no one as the Lincoln pulled away with the two memes and without me.

A chance of a lifetime, and I’d said no.  It felt…fine.  Sensible.  Really boringly grown-up but also really smart.  I’d been the third wheel in a bromance before, and let me tell you, having two dudes call each other’s name while they come in me is not one of my kinks.

But you do you.  I was doing no one at all, unless I got my ass back indoors.  As I headed back down the garden path I skimmed through my messages, most of which were just my bestie screaming in all caps because she’d figured out who I was with.

<<hard nope>> I replied.  <<is bc still there?>>

<<y n he wondered where u went>>

Damn.  And just when I’d given up hope of ever convincing Bart that I was totally his type, even if only for a night.  Forget the memes.  They could work their own shit out.  I had hotter prey in my sights.