It began on Twitter.
Because of course it did.
Twitter is where everything starts, including this story.
It all started the day Santana Lopez got the internet to cancel Rachel Berry.
X
Rachel and Santana had always had a rather prickly friendship.
It had always been a bit of a push and pull sort of dynamic with them in high school. There was always a sense of tension and perhaps a bit of rivalry between them then, but on occasion there were flashes of something that looked like friendship every so often. Usually those sincere moments were sparked by Rachel, but Santana had always responded to them with the same amount of vulnerability, however they were never what one would refer to as besties.
The last several years had seen them both mature and grow in their own ways though. They had both gotten married to great, supportive partners who loved them and who they loved. They had both found their own independent success with their careers, with Rachel finally redeeming herself on Broadway and Santana taking over pop charts with her sultry singles and cementing herself as a bit of a female heartthrob in the public eye. In many ways they had mellowed out and yet as far as they had come as individuals when they were in the same room or group chat or even on the same red carpet, they could sometimes find themselves reverting to their sixteen year old selves.
Oddly it was as if they both found something weirdly comforting about it all, their familiar yet volatile back and forth that is.
It always played out the same. There was a rhythm to their ridiculousness.
Rachel would say or do something obnoxious or naive or both and Santana would respond with a clever quip and a cutting remark. Rachel would squawk back in defense and Santana would double dunk on her to put her in her place. Things would of course inevitably escalate and Santana would burst out in a rageful Spanish language spiel and more often than not Rachel would then end the altercation by singing a strangely homoerotic song about their complicated friendship. In the end though they would always sort it out and make nice only to repeat the process again, weeks or even days later.
It was just who they were. It was how they worked.
In high school Santana was always looking out for hilarious ways in which to screw with Rachel sure, that wasn't some new development however since they had found fame and success it was almost like this game of theirs had evolved. Santana didn't just want to toy with Rachel on an amatuer level anymore, no, not when she could now do it in the public eye for the media to see and witness Rachel's humiliation. Doing it in public and online somehow made it even sweeter and more satisfying.
Brittany always shook her head at the amount of effort Santana put into it.
''You're so cute when you're trying to be kinniving,'' Brittany would say dreamily.
And Santana would turn all adorable and sputtery. ''My mind-torture of Rachel isn't cute, babe, it's evil. I'm evil.''
''Sure it is and sure you are.''
Brittany would always end up stroking her hair and smiling at her like she was a puppy in a handbasket. It never mattered though because Santana knew what she was doing.
Like.
There was the time Santana started a rumor in the press that Rachel had a tramp stamp tattoo of Quinn's face on her back. It got the media buzzing. Is FaBerry real?! - magazine headlines read. Acclaimed actress Quinn didn't dignify Santana's claim with a response and chose to maintain her mystique. Rachel however was livid over the matter. When she first read about the online rumor she called to scold Santana over the phone.
''For your information, Santana, while I do consider Quinn to be the prettiest girl I've ever known I don't have romantic feelings towards her. If I did I would have no issue accepting any potential sapphic leanings but I don't. My qualm with you-''
''Gross, Berry,'' Santana fake-gagged as if Rachel had used a crude word. ''I don't want to hear about your disgusting qualms.''
''Stop playing around.''
''Who's playing around? I don't even know what a qualm is but it sounds nasty.''
A few days later Rachel dispelled the rumors by posting a barf worthy sexy bathing suit shot of herself on Instagram. It showed off the small of her back thus subtly proving that she hadn't inked her skin with Quinn's likeness. Rachel had also made a lengthy statement about how lovely and supportive her lesbian and bi fans were. She made the rounds to different publications to talk about how she had always been a solid ally to the LGBTQIA+ community. Her little publicity tour about the matter ended with Rachel having a fun little chat and dance session with Ellen on her talk show.
It was actually pretty adorable. Naturally it made Santana want to punch something.
There was also the time Santana made a statement in an interview that her good friend and fellow entertainer Rachel Berry had also come out as plaidsexual. Someone sexually attracted to all things plaid. She backed up her statements by going on Instagram on International Plaid Day and posting numerous photos of high school Rachel wearing ugly ass plaid outfits.
''I think it's important to support people like my friend Rachel Berry,'' Santana wrote in her caption. ''She's had to hide herself for so long and she just wants rights like everyone else. Some people love men, some people love women, some people love plaid. Love is love and plaid is plaid. Plaidsexual rights are human rights. #I stand with plaidsexuals.''
Once again Rachel was miffed at this false little anecdote and once again - even though it was one of her lesser crimes - Santana got another earful over the phone about it.
''There is no such thing as plaidsexuals!'' Rachel hollered into her cell.
''Um false, Rachel. Haven't you ever heard of Rule 34 of the internet?''
''No?''
''Well it's a thing,'' Santana said matter of factly. ''Rule 34 dictates that something exists, someone somewhere probably gets off to it. Ain't nothing wrong with your orientation. Rachel, you need to stop lying to yourself and the world and live your truth. Embrace your plaidsexuality.''
''I swear to god, Santana.''
Then came the time that Rachel had a wardrobe malfunction on the red carpet for one of her new projects. No one on Rachel's team had noticed it at first and it wasn't until several hours later when the photos went up online did the world at large get a peek of Rachel's berries. Rachel wasn't exactly embarrassed about the matter, she was actually quite proud of her body. Rachel had always been a health and fitness conscious person and she tried to spin it in a positive light. She typed out a tweet about it being a hilarious mishap and went on a body positivity tangent and such. The wardrobe malfunction was only mildly embarrassing, but what really ruffled Rachel's feathers was Santana's response to her nip-slip photos.
''You started a Get-Rachel-Berry-New-Skeeter-Bites GoFundMe?!'' Rachel shouted over the phone once again.
''You're welcome,'' Santana said casually. Santana was relaxing in bed, completely unmoved by Rachel yelling at her. She was used to it by this point. So was Brittany who was on her own side of the bed nonchalantly flipping through a book.
''I'm welcome? Ughh!'' Rachel screeched. ''And did you really have to post the link up on your Twitter? Now your ridiculous stans are in my mentions.''
''Hey, excuse you,'' Santana sounded miffed. ''My stans aren't ridiculous, they're dedicated. You know, Berry, I expected a little more gratitude from you.''
''Gratitude? Why?''
''I don't know if you know this Rachel but I'm a boob woman,'' Santana admitted with a sly lilt to her voice. ''Always have been, always will be. I know the female form and judging by your nip slip pics it took me approximately two seconds to see that your girls are lopsided.''
''Lopsided?!''
''Your right one is also just a little bit bigger than your left one,'' Santana was very matter of fact about the matter as she opened up her laptop to the GoFundMe page she had indeed set up a few hours earlier. ''It happens, no biggie, and it can be corrected with simple cosmetic surgery. Also you might wanna look into some laser hair removal cause I zoomed in on one of those photos and I'm pretty sure I saw a whisker coming out of one-''
''I do not!''
Santana snickered. ''Okay, you don't but I was for reals about one being bigger than the other.''
Rachel let out a high pitched feral noise of annoyance.
Santana hit refresh on her browser and lit up. ''Puck just pledged two hundred dollars to your tit fund!''
''This isn't funny.''
Santana smirked. ''Well the entirety of the internet seems to think so.''
Yes, poking at Rachel was always fun but as time went on it felt as if Santana had to continually up her game, pushing limits, taking things further and further. Eventually she decided that while these slights, slams and shenanigans were amusing they weren't...high art.
She then began to ponder and conceive of something bigger, bolder. Something she could deem her greatest challenge yet. It came to her simply and brilliantly one morning while she and Brittany were enjoying a lovely breakfast together.
''I think I'm going to get the internet to cancel Rachel Berry,'' Santana said and then took a sip of her black coffee.
Brittany didn't bat an eye. ''That's nice, dear.''
X
See Santana was first and foremost a child of the internet. A millennial.
She came of age right along with Twitter, Facebook and Instagram. She also knew a great deal about the power of social media having watched Brittany navigate YouTube for over a decade with her Fondue for Two series. What had started out as a small, silly hobby had turned into a full blown career for her wife who really found her place and her voice in front of as well as behind the camera.
Who would have ever guessed that Fondue for Two was simply a precursor to the many, many drama channels that would litter the video site some years later. Brittany's show had since matured into something less gossipy and more substantial as she now covered general lifestyle topics as well as important social issues as she sat down in front of the camera to gab with her guests. Santana was glad to see her wife grow as a content maker but she would have been lying if she said she didn't miss some of those old episodes where Brittany invited a friend on to talk shit with.
When Santana wasn't working on an album or exhausting herself on a worldwide tour she had been known to devour hours of online content. In fact other than getting her cuddle on with Brittany it was her preferred method of relaxation. She loved to kick back in bed and watch a good meaty drama video, the longer the better, and through the years she had devoured them all. Any time a bitch fit would break out between beauty gurus or Instagram hos or drag queens, Santana was on it, salivating at all the sordid details, all the vague posts, all the shade, all the Twitter beef, all the call outs, all the snapbacks.
She especially loved it when someone really annoying was humiliated or got dragged through the mud on social media. Justin Beiber being boycotted by One Million Moms? Brilliant. Taylor Swift getting dunked on for twerking her nonexistent ass? Hilarious. That one time Tina Cohen Chang was trending on Twitter because she accidentally farted during a live televised performance? Beautiful.
Santana lived for that type of stuff. There was something entertaining about the internet reveling in their brief humiliations for a hot second before moving onto the next laughing stock or meme came around. She had dabbled and toyed with Rachel online on a small scale, but what she was about to attempt, well that was a whole other level. This would be performance art. Finding a way to make the internet so enraged that it had no other choice to cancel Rachel Berry.
Yes, Santana was about to start the Dramagedon to end all Dramagedons.
X
The funny thing was it was all so surprisingly easy.
But then that's how it was nowadays in the immediate YouTube age. All one needed was a device and an internet connection and you could do or say anything and put it out there for the world to see.
And so, Santana spent the better part of a day constructing and editing everything. She watched a few iconic call out videos as inspiration but mostly she just spoke from the heart. Santana knew that in order for her drama video to be especially impactful she had to appear to be authentic and vulnerable. There had to be some sort of sliver of truth to what she was saying, and she had just the thing to draw upon to make it seem real.
She went about using a spare room in her home as a set, she had even borrowed one of Brittany's nicer cameras to video herself with. And that was that.
A plain clothed and somber Santana sat stoic in front of the camera which she addressed head on.
''I've decided today to speak out. I've been concealing a secret for the better part of a decade. It involves a contemporary of mine, many of you watching this might know her. Rachel Berry. Rachel and I have a long and complicated history with each other as you probably know. We've always had ups and downs but I've always considered her to be in my inner circle. She was my friend, she was my family, but she took that trust and used it, used it to fulfil her sick, sad fantasies. Now some of you might know that years ago she and I lived as roommates for a brief period of time and,'' at this Santana paused and looked away reflectively, as if she had to muster up the nerve to continue. ''I thought I was safe there. But I wasn't. I wasn't because Rachel clearly had uncontrollable perversions. I found this out one afternoon when I came home to find her nose deep in my panty drawer. She was obviously receiving some kind of gratification from touching them. It was even more apparent when she asked me if I wore crotchless panties. I only caught her once but this is an act that speaks to a greater deviance. Who even knows how many times she did it before she was caught? She betrayed our friendship and used me. Silent I will remain no more! Rachel Berry is a panty sniffing fetishist!''
She went on, she went on for 42 minutes about Rachel and her supposed panty sniffing kink. It took her several hours to edit but in the end Santana was confident in her creation. It hit all the notes on a call out video. Other than getting Brittany to marry her ridiculous ass Santana thought that it was perhaps her greatest achievement.
She uploaded the finished product to YouTube and titled it simply 'my truth' and from there she crossposted to all of her social media accounts and then she waited for the internet to do its thing. Having spent the entire morning and a good chunk of her afternoon staring at a computer screen she decided it was a good idea to step away from her laptop and phone.
Pestering Rachel was fun sure but Santana did have other kinds of joy in her life. One of those joys was parading around their bedroom in her bra, panties and a killer pair of heels.
''Hey babe, you done with your little video project? I need you to help me decide what to wear next week to Kurt's big premiere party.''
Brittany held up two hangers with two very different dresses hanging off of them. She took turns placing both hangers in front of her body, trying to give Santana a visual of what each one would look like on her body. Santana wasn't interested in deliberating fashion choices. Not when Brittany was prancing around looking tight in all the right places like that.
''Which one do you like on me more? This leggy black one or the more understated lavender one?''
Santana licked her lips as she approached. ''Well they're both beautiful,'' she said as if she were considering.
''Right, and they both work with the heels I really want to wear for the event.''
''If you ask me, you'll look gorgeous either way you go.''
''Yeah?''
Brittany went to place both outfits onto a nearby rack and Santana took the opportunity to stroll over and stand directly behind her.
''Yeah,'' Santana affirmed and placed her hands on both of Brittany's hips and squeezed lightly at them. ''Though I have to admit, this outfit you have on right now knocks them all outta the park.''
Brittany smiled and turned around in place. ''You think?''
''I know.''
''Yeah well I'm not so sure Kurt would appreciate me showing up to his premiere in panties and heels.''
''Because you'd probably steal his thunder.''
''Why would I want to steal lightening?''
Santana hummed. ''I mean all eyes would be on you, babe.''
Brittany tilted her head and considered this for a second. ''Well I'm super body positive so I wouldn't mind that so much but I don't really need everyone's eyes on me. Just yours.''
Santana let out a desperate little grunt and went to nip at Brittany's collarbone.
''Someone's excited,'' Brittany hummed.
''It can't be helped when I'm married to someone who looks this good.''
Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana's neck, relishing in the attention as Santana's mouth moved south, spending a considerable amount of time peppering kisses across the curves of her breasts. Brittany was worked up easily and whimpering for more and soon Santana was nudging her back until Brittany collapsed onto their bed. Santana stood confidently and peeled off her own clothing before joining her wife and when she did she took immense pleasure in helping Brittany out of her bra and she especially relished assisting her slide her panties off before flicking them down to the floor. But when Brittany reached down to undo the small loop on her heels Santana was quick to halt her.
''No, keep the heels on,'' Santana said deeply.
''On?''
''Mmhm. I want you to come while wearing them.''
Brittany's eyes were wide with excitement. Her only response was to curl one leg around Santana's hip while the other moved up, closer to Santana's shoulder. Santana stroked her calf for a moment before deciding there were other parts of Brittany's body that definitely needed to be stroked more.
Yes, Santana thought later on, there were some joys in life that were greater than torturing Rachel Berry.
X
Two hours and countless orgasms later Santana was deep in her post sex bliss. Beside her Brittany was upside down on her stomach, in her own dizzy state. Her heels were half on.
"That was so hot," Santana said as she turned her head and faced Brittany's bare ass which was there at her eye level.
Brittany just let out a satisfied mumble into her pillow down below. ''I feel like I could sleep for a million years now.''
Santana beamed with pride. Sure she always had her needs met but she also always made sure Brittany got what she needed too. Married life was awesome.
''Well how about you take yourself a nice little nap while I go down and get dinner started?''
''Mmmm, you're the best.''
Santana sat up and swung herself out of bed. She pulled on her short black robe and tied herself up in it before bending down to give Brittany a kiss. ''Tomorrow you're in charge of dinner.''
''Deal,'' Brittany sighed contentedly as she closed her eyes.
Santana pulled a blanket over Brittany's body protectively...although not before coping a feel of her wife's toned ass one last time.
She really and truly was a lucky woman she thought as she made her way down to the ground floor of their home and towards their large kitchen. She wasn't sure what she was going to cook for dinner but she knew for sure after that tumble in the sheets she and Brittany definitely needed some sweet ass carbs. She had just opened their refrigerator to inspect its contents when her doorbell rang.
Weird, she thought, she wasn't expecting anyone. It wasn't like they lived in a very public, easy to access space. Their home was securely tucked away in a very select neighborhood. They had paid good money for a certain level of seclusion. No, whoever was at their door was either a friend or a petty neighbor. Probably the latter. It was just last week she got into it Yeezy over a noise dispute.
She paused for a second before abandoning any potential meal prep task to see who was dropping by unannounced and ruining her post sex euphoria. She could've ignored it however she didn't want the constant ringing and knocking to wake Brittany up.
All that sex had rattled her brain though, because she had forgotten all about her earlier activities online. In fact Rachel Berry was literally the last thing on her mind and the last person she expected to see on the other side of her front door. But there she was looking just as uptight as ever.
''Santana,'' Rachel greeted coldly and with narrowed eyes.
''Berry, what are you doing here?''
Rachel responded by pushing herself forward, past Santana and through the front door. ''What am I doing here, you ask, have you even bothered to look at your phone in the last two hours?''
''No actually, I've been otherwise occupied,'' Santana said with a smug grin.
Rachel wrinkled her nose. She wasn't interested in the details. Instead she slapped her own phone against Santana's chest.
''Well thanks to you the entirety of the internet hates me!'' Rachel shouted. ''What compelled you to do this?''
''Do what?''
''Don't play stupid,'' Rachel fumed as she began to walk in anxious circles. ''You made a 42 minute video talking about our time together as roommates, you said I would sneak into your panty drawer and do things! Sex things! Pervert things! You accused me of being some-some-some panty fetishist! And then! Then, you uploaded the entire thing to YouTube! It went viral!''
Santana took a glance down at Rachel's phone and noted that in the short span of a few hours - the entire time she was in bed with Brittany - her video had exploded. It had half a million views and from the looks of it there were dozens and dozens of reaction videos popping up to respond to it. Santana stans were popping off online to call Rachel and Rachel stans out for being gross and toxic. Rachel stans were retaliating and attacked Santana stans, calling her a liar. It was going on. The internet was in a feeding frenzy and everyone was weighing in. Rachel Berry Is Cancelled Party was trending on Twitter. It was getting wild up in Rachel's mentions.
''You are so over the line this time,'' Rachel said.
''That's what you said last time,'' Santana wasn't moved. ''And anyway, if you'd bothered to watch the video Rachel nothing I say is false. I did catch you sifting through my panty drawer that one time, did I not?''
''I was looking for a candle!''
''Sure, Jan.''
''How would you like it if I suddenly aired your private business in the press, Santana, huh? Remember that time I caught you and Brittany in flagrante delicto backstage at the People's Choice Awards?''
''Yeah I remember and newsflash Rachel I wouldn't care. If anything telling people I'm regularly found face down in my wife would only solidify my perfectly cultivated image as a female heartthrob.''
''Do you have any idea what the repercussions of this could be?'' Rachel asked. ''If this blows up any further I could lose endorsement deals, I could be released from my theater contract. Have you ever heard of a morality clause? You've basically labeled me as some sort of gross pervy sex fiend.''
''Rachel, you need to calm down and look at the bigger picture here okay? I'm doing us both a favor every time I drag you over social media.''
''Oh yeah, how is that?'' Rachel balked at the idea.
''Because Hollywood is a game, Rachel, and you should know this by now. Every time I say something about you in the press it keeps both of our names in the spotlight. It doesn't matter if people are hating you or laughing at you, because as long as they're talking about you, you're on the public's radar. There's no such thing as bad publicity. You should be thanking me. You were trending today, worldwide.'' Santana scrolled through Rachel's phone again. ''See, there's been a dozen news articles about you in the last half hour alone.''
''Yeah, and they're all about how I have a secret panty kink. I'm trending for all the wrong reasons! And thanking you? What? I don't care if you think you're doing me a favor or not, I'm asking - no - I'm telling you to stop all of this. All of your little mind torture games you so love to play with me. You provoking me in the public eye is no longer funny or clever, Santana.''
''I only drag you online and in the media so hard because you're one of my best friends Rachel. I could be publicly humiliating Tina or Mercedes and helping their careers but no, I'm not, because that's how much you mean to me. You're so ungrateful I swear. ''
Rachel was not amused by Santana's twisted reasoning. ''I'm serious, Santana. I'm fine with lighthearted jabs every now and then but this? You've officially gone too far.''
''Rachel, come on,'' Santana groaned. After all they had been through this a million times, and a million times over Rachel had more or less let it slide off of her back. Santana didn't see why this time her friend felt so much more betrayed. ''Don't be like this. You have to admit, it's funny.''
''I'll show you funny,'' Rachel said, her voice going low and serious.
''What the hell does that mean?'' Santana laughed dismissively.
''It means prepare for retribution.''
''Retribution?''
''Yes, Santana, retribution. You've pushed me to my limit. I don't know when, I don't know where and I don't know how, but soon you will come face to face with the full force and fury of Rachel Berry.''
''Sounds fun. Look,'' Santana went around and slinked an arm around Rachel. ''Why don't you go home, open a bottle of wine and relax. The internet isn't going to cancel you, or well, it will, but only for a few days until some other drama happens with TSwift or Miley or one of those Jenner bitches. And then the internet will forget all about this little laugh and move on. People are fickle.''
''How can you say that? You've damaged my reputation!''
''What reputation? You didn't really have one before this, but this gives you a little weird and a little edge. It'll make for an interesting paragraph on your Wikipedia page.''
X
Santana thought it would be like all of the other times she ruffled Rachel's feathers in the media.
Santana expected a period of silence and then Rachel would force her to sing a vaguely gay with her and they would hug it out and it would be back to normal.
But no. This time was different. Rachel took her online ass whooping in silence, and after a while the buzz and the drama faded. The internet was strange in the way it operated. Santana was right about that, but that didn't mean anything to Rachel apparently.
Now at first Santana had assumed they were just playing their usual game and she was prepared to go through the motions. She gave Rachel a week or so to cool down. She didn't attempt to text or contact her, she didn't tweet or tag her on any social media platforms. But then one week of silence rolled into two, and then two into three until eventually Santana decided to reach out to smooth things over. Except every time she tried to call, Rachel's phone would go directly to voicemail and every text she sent would be left unanswered. Rachel kept giving her the cold shoulder which started out as annoying but quickly became absolutely infuriating.
Santana was like a dog or a toddler, she thrived on attention, even if it was only for her negative behavior. But when the object of her irritation gave her no attention? Well that was the worst thing in her eyes and she responded accordingly in her trademark Santana Lopez way.
With a tantrum.
"You know what? I'm done with Rachel," Santana muttered through a mouthful of food as she sat down to dinner with her wife.
Brittany smiled and nodded unconvincingly. "Sure you are."
Santana gestured empathically with her utensils. "I mean, it was a joke. She can't take one joke? Also for the record thanks to my fans that GoFundMe for Rachel's tits met its goal. Did I get a thank you? No? So you know what? If Rachel's bitch ass no longer has time for me, I have no time for her."
"You know for someone who claims to not care, you sure seem to care a lot."
"I don't care about Rachel."
"Then why have you been whining about her ignoring you for the last hour huh?" Brittany laughed as she sat across from her. "I made you a nice romantic dinner and even promised to wear the French maid costume that always gets you going later tonight. But instead of scarfing down dinner at lightning speed and nailing me while I bend over to 'dust' , you're sitting here going on and on about how much you miss her."
"Ummm excuse you woman, who said I missed her."
Brittany wasn't phased. "When will you just admit that the only reason you get such a sick satisfaction from torturing her is because you, deep down, really cherish your friendship with Rachel."
"Cherish? Honestly Brittany, how dare you?"
"Well I have a wild thought. It's just an idea but perhaps if you reached out in person with a real apology, you might hear back from her."
"Apology?" Santana scrunched up her face as if she had just tasted something fowl. "Yeah no. I don't do apologies."
"With me you do. It's not often that you actually need to but you've totally made an apology to me before."
Santana softened instantly. "Well yeah, babe, but that's you. We're talking about Berry here though."
Brittany shrugged. It was the most simple, most obvious solution, of course Santana would roll her eyes at it.
''Whatever I'm over it.'' Santana sighed and pushed her dinner plate away. ''Now about that French maid costume…''
X
Author's Notes: this was written a month or so ago, prior to the internet (rightfully) dragging Lea IRL. Stay tuned for part two next week...