Anxiety Memes Novels & Stories

Doesn’t like people worrying about him, analyzing him, checking if he’s okay. And right now? With him sitting this close Looking like this I don’t trust myself to survive a mood swing from him. “Show me.” Of course. I hesitate, then scroll through the messages. It’s mostly chaos memes, dumb emojis, nonsense. Safe enough. I turn the screen toward him. He scans it, unimpressed. “That’s it?” he says flatly. “You expect me to believe that’s all?” I shrug. “You’d be surprised how low our standards are.”

A single comment—one damn comment—had detonated under our latest I*******m post like it was laced with caffeine and glitter. RachelK: Team Silver Fox 🦊 or Dr. Sexy Young Buck 🦌? Don’t make me choose. I want both. That girl. That menace. Thousands of likes. Hundreds of replies. Debates. Fan theories. “Thirst trap” memes made from their headshots I hadn’t even posted. A few women claimed to have already booked pelvic exams. One of them tagged a friend and wrote, we’re going together. Make it a girls’ trip. I pinched the bridge of my nose to stop from grinning like an idiot.

~ Hailey ~ The storm begins before the sky even realizes it’s supposed to rain. By the time Ethan and I step out of the boardroom hand-in-hand, with our relationship declared, half the company already has it posted, reposted, filtered, captioned, and turned into memes. Kevin meets us outside the elevator looking like a man who has aged ten years in ten minutes. “Hailey… Ethan… the internet is— I don’t know how to say this but— the memes are disrespectful. Hilarious, but disrespectful.”

And now, the internet was having a fucking field day. Noah stopped pacing, long enough to grab his phone again, thumbs flying over the screen as he scanned the endless floods of comments on his innagram. I sucked my teeth, irritation clawing up my throat. “You need to stop reading that shit.” He snapped his gaze to me at that, and I’ve never seen such pure anger in his gaze. “Do you know what they are calling me? Have you seen the fucking memes they’ve started to make about me? I’ve spent my entire life--?”

Following that, I received an invitation from Alexis to join a group chat named "Future Unicorn Core Members" When I joined the chat, the group happened to be active, with messages flying by my screen. However, what caught my attention was that most of the messages were meme stickers of that unflattering photo of me.

"Someone hotter and less grumpy for me to do this with?" Lily's response was blunt. "Arc's the ugly, deformed waiter you kissed at your father's gala after finding out about your ex's infidelity." Chelsea winced. "Thanks for the reminder." "You needed it," Lily said. "Kevin's stealing the spotlight, and even Larry's Italian charm is overshadowing your drama. Those memes aren't helping. Almost ten memes of you crying that night has surfaced, including one with a thundercloud hovering over your head." Chelsea's anxiety spiked. Being meme-ified meant you were either ridiculously silly or famously notorious. Chelsea knew he'd become a meme for both reasons.

She said with a smile. I was helpless. I know if I wanted to hear those words from her mouth, I had to continue working hard. “Alright, I hung up then.” Ailina hung up the phone. Then she sent me a naughty expression of a little rabbit baring her teeth. I usually didn’t use Memes when using W******p. When I saw Ailina’s cute one, I didn’t know what to reply. So I found Jayden and asked him to get a few for me. As a result, the expression bags Jayden sent me were all very strange. All of them were silly with lines “Go to hell, Idiot”, “You go eat shit,” and “The other party didn’t want to talk to you and touch your tit.” Seeing this I almost went to beat him.

There were cute, silly ones too, that I couldn't help but laugh out loud. “How did you come up with all of these words? Where did you find all of these memes?” I snorted, unable to keep my curiosity to myself. “On F******k of course.” She chuckled, laying her head on my chest. Together, we read through a lot of her posts, with her playfully explaining what some meant. “You should add me up on F******k, that way you can see my posts any time I make one,” she suggested. “I don’t have F******k. I can’t remember the last time I had one. I have I*******m though,” I explained with a shrug.

"No. Not at first. I checked if you were responsive. You couldn't hear me at all, but your eyes weren't really closed." "Sorry." Jessi giggled again. "I kinda scared you, huh?" "Not really. So, cheese triggers it?" "And anxiety. Stress. Fast food, too, sometimes. 'Cause it messes with my gut bacteria." "Right." "It's hot in here." She heaved a sigh and hastily took off her sweater. "You think there's people downstairs already?" ×

I could fucking get sued for this! I back away from the bed, shaking. What do I do? My phone buzzes again like a relentless, angry bee on the floor. And like a zombie, I pick it up. Notifications flood in. A meme pops up. An old picture of me at my high school party, photoshopped, mocked, and trending. It's working. But underneath the shame, a tiny, stubborn spark of anger flickers to life. I tuck my hair behind my ear and enter the comments. Lewd comments about my body are getting massive likes.