#Christine canigula x reader

[fivenightsatartists]

I been listening to some musicals (mostly listening to Be More Chill) and my brain just been exploded with a idea of a somewhat Crossover Au with a bit of X reader, let me know if you guys are interested in this....

(Spooky Month + Be More Chill Au) Kevin x Reader

Cast:

-Kevin as Jeremy Heere

-Radford as Micheal Mell (I'M SO SORRY!!! QAQ💔)

-Atticus (Skid's dad) as The Squip

-Reader as Christine Canigula

-Liv as Rich Goranski

-Ethan as Chloe Valentine

-Leon as Brooke Lohst

-Streber as Jenna Rolan

-Aria as Jake Dillinger

-Lila or Jaune??? as Mr. Heere (Jeremy's Dad)

-Jack (maybe???) as Mr. Reyes

Tell me if there's anything wrong in this then I'll change things up but no hate please, and yeah I know the BMC fandom is small and forgotten but I don't care I still love it ಠ︵ಠ

Spooky Month belongs to Sr. Pelo, Be More Chill The Musical (2015) belongs to Joe Tracz, and Reader (you) belongs to yourself

[interstellarflowers]

michael mell x reader | sloppy and wonderful

a/n: requested michael mell fanfic, i hope this is okay, feel free to request whatever whenever

t/w: cursing, kind of(?) sad stuff, but otherwise just fluff

Busy hallways, people everywhere, sweaty, body spray, fresh school supplies...This certainly was your last first day of school. One more year, you thought to yourself, one more year and then you’re out of this shit hole. You were so over the whole high school thing, and already so over senior year. You were already convinced, senior year was a goddamn scam.

“(y/n)!” your best friend Christine runs towards you and pulls you into an airtight hug.

“Christine,” you laugh and pull yourself out of the hug, “I just saw you yesterday.”

“That’s too long!” You both walk to class laughing, maybe senior year wouldn’t be completely awful. You had Christine, after all, and shes helped you through a lot more than high school...

Christine had been your best friend since diapers. You did everything together. Millions of play rehearsals, countless sleepovers, movie nights, etc. Inseparable. On your way to sign up for the school play, you and Christine ran into Jeremy, whispering to himself.

“Did you say something?” Jeremy looks up at Christine like a deer in highlights.

“I-uh-um,” and then he ran away. Christine and you shrugged at each other and you both continued to make your way over to the play sign up sheet.

Later that day you had a free period and decided to bide your time in the library, having not been assigned any homework yet you go to grab a book off a shelf. Well, you were going to grab a book, until the very book you were about to grab got snatched right off the shelf right before you picked it up.

“Hey!” you said a little too loud for the library, but hey, you were startled.

“I’m sorry!” yelled a voice back, startled as well, “Do you want this?”

The voice comes out from behind the other side of the shelf, it’s Michael Mell. Michaell Mell, like your crush since fifth grade Michael Mell. He hands you the book,

“Here, you can have it.” You stutter back a thank you and run into another part of the library.

You sat down at one of the numerous chairs in the back part of the library and attempted to calm down from the sudden interaction. You began to read until you were interrupted by a certain book snatcher,

“Hey,” you nearly jumped out of your seat, “Oh, I’m sorry, I-” stutters Michael,

“No, no, no, it’s fine, it’s fine. I’m sorry, uh, what’s up?”

“I-uh, you like that book too?” You look down at your book and then look back at Michael,

“Yes, yes, book good!” Michael gives you a funny look before laughing,

“Yeah, book good.” He shakes his head still laughing a little, “Well, see ya.” He gives you a small wave and pushes through the library doors. Sighing, you put down your book in order to process what just happened.

The next few weeks of school went by, still just as slow, still just as boring, very few interactions with Michael following the first day of school. Until one fateful day, you heard light sobs coming from the supply closet. It was time to go to your next class, but you certainly couldn’t just leave whoever it was in there, so instead of going to class you slip into the supply closet.

“M-Michael?” Michael looks up at you,

“(y/n)?”

“Michael, what happened?”

“It’s Jeremy.” Ah yes, Jeremy. He has been acting noticeably weird as of late.

“Well, what’d he do?” You sit down next to Michael anticipating some sort of typical teenage drama. Michael looks at you, and then the ground contemplative.

“...I’m about to tell you something,” Michael starts, “But you have to promise me that you won’t think I’m insane after.” You nod quickly and then Michael tells you everything. Rich in the bathroom, Jeremy’s bar mitzvah money, the shoe store clerk, everything. By the end of it, you were terrified. Terrified of how awfully familiar this all sounded.

“This is…”

“Insane? I know, but you have to believe me-”

“Oh, I believe you.”

“I know, but I swear I’m telling the-Wait you what?”

“This is, way too familiar for me,” Michael goes to speak again but you stop him and continue on, “My brother...He-He was in his first year of college, and he started going nuts. So he had to come home, we figured that it was just that college was too much pressure, he went to Harvard-”

“He went from a straight D student to a freshman at Harvard…”

“Yes, precisely, but wait how did you know that?”

“You’re that guy...Warcraft...You’re a girl? I mean, you’re her?”

“Yes, I’m a girl. That was my brother. I thought he was lying, just a part of going crazy until I heard you were looking for information on a squip...That’s when I know I was a fool to not believe him.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” His hand is on your shoulder, Michael Mell’s hand is on your shoulder, “It’s okay, I’m going to figure out how to get it out, and then we can save Jeremy and your brother.” Tears welled up in your eyes.

“Michael, that’s wonderful!” you exclaimed overjoyed at the thought of having your brother back, you jumped and hugged Michael so fast that you nearly knocked him over.

“We’re going to get through this together (y/n).” Then it all happened so fast you could barely process what was happening, Michael Mell. The Michael Mell. Michael Mell you’ve liked since fifth grade Michael Mell was kissing you. His lips were on yours. Sloppy, awkward, but wonderful. Everything you’ve ever hoped for and more than you ever imagined. It was almost perfect until one of the brooms in the supply closet got knocked over and fell on you. You both stopped kissing to laugh and fix the broom, Michael grabs your shoulders again and looks you in the eyes.

“You know,” he started quietly, “I’ve wanted to do that since the fifth grade?”

“You know that,” you nearly lose your breath starting this sentence, words you never thought you would actually say to Michael, “You know that, I’ve been in love with you since like the fifth grade?”

Michael beams at you, this big bright smile and you too share a kiss again. Sweet, simple, beautiful. Just as you dreamed, and you knew that with Michael by your side everything was going to be okay.

a/n i hope this was ok?? let me know if you want a sad one haha

[robo-writes-blog]

✿ with the BMC characters?

✿ - Sex headcanon

Jeremy: a total switch but is surprisingly kinky

Micheal: has totally experimented with camming before

Rich: totally got a exhibition kink

Jake: LOVES AND NEED PRAISE

Chloe: won’t let you touch her hair during sex

Brooke: loves under the cover morning sex

Christine: has sex with her socks on if she’s cold

Jenna: totally loves phone sex

[the-insanely-cool-connor-mu-blog]

Soulmates and Stardust (Royalty!AU) (Soulmate!AU)

As you can tell I really love AUs

Genre: Fluff?

Warnings: Uhhh none I guess

A/N: Ok so I’m writing different endings for the different characters and they will be out as soon as I finish them

Word Count: 541 (I know I know don’t give me shit)

You had never seen colour in your life, but you managed. As the heiress of a powerful kingdom, though, you had no time to worry about that. Your kingdom’s most valued export was stardust, a substance of dreams. The mines were rumoured to glitter brighter than all the jewels in the royal treasury.

You were presently sitting at your study, learning croquet etiquette for next week’s test.

Your mother burst through the doorway of your room. “Darling, I have exciting news! You are to be married! We’ve narrowed down the possible candidates, here!” She excitedly handed you a list of your possible suitors:

Princess Christine Canigula

Prince Connor Murphy

Princess Janis Sarkisian

Princess Alana Beck

Prince Jeremiah Heere

Princess Brooke Lohst

Prince Evan Hansen

Princess Cady Heron

Prince Richard Goranski

Princess Zoe Murphy

You looked up. “Mother, I don’t know these people. I can’t marry any of them!”

“Then you’ll get acquainted with them,” she said, snatching the letter back out of your hand. “There’s a ball tomorrow night, where you will meet all your possible suitors. You will decide who to marry by your eighteenth birthday.”

“But that’s only a month away!” you protested, to no avail. Your mother slipped out the door.

“Then you’ll have to begin courting soon.” She slammed the door and you sunk into the chair at your study. This was unfair. You were too young to marry, and besides, what if you fell in love with your soulmate and they weren’t royalty? Your mother might revolt if that happened. Sighing, you called your maids. If you were to have suitors, you would at least make a good impression on them.

Your maids brushed and pulled and curled your hair till it was perfect. They put you in a ballgown—dark gray, with light gray detailing—and a corset that you swore was killing you. “All done, how do you feel?” You were turned towards the mirror. You looked beautiful, albeit suffocating.

“I can’t breathe,” you choked out. One of your maids smiled apologetically at you.

“Your mother specifically requested to make the corset as tight as possible,” she explained.

“Well, could you please loosen it a bit? For me?” you pleaded.

She smiled. “Alright, milady.”

You hurried to the ballroom, and stood by the window.

“Now arriving, the Murphy family!” the herald announced.

King Larry Murphy descended the steps with his wife, Queen Cynthia Murphy, clutching onto his arm. Behind them followed the two Murphy siblings. First Princess Zoe, her light hair shining under the lights. Trailing behind her, Prince Connor, a mysterious figure who apparently never went out for family gatherings. You could see why, he looked uncomfortable and disconnected from his family. You could relate.

You made your way to the food table while the herald kept announcing the arrival of your suitors and their families.

“The Sarkisian family!”

“The Heere family!”

“The Lohst family!”

“The Heron family!”

“The Beck family!”

“The Goranski family!”

“The Canigula family!”

“The Hansen family!”

They all lined up in the center of the room. You gulped and took a deep breath. You looked at all your suitors gathered in front of you, and it suddenly felt real. Your eyes roved over them until they finally rested on—

[mylifesjustacarousel]

imagines requests

I know I do a lot of hc requests, but i’m writing a Michael imagine and I thought I might as well write some others! :)

[cleverbroadwayurl]

Quiet Destruction (Christine Canigula x Reader)

Word Count: 3790

A/N: OH MY GOD FINALLY I’M POSTING SOMETHING. I’m so sorry this took so long and it probably isn’t great bc I’m a little out of my writing groove. Work and writing is tough for me bc I put all of my social time into it, which, bc I’m an introvert, makes me exhausted. But! I promise more and better stuff is coming!! You guys want Part 17??? You’re gonna get it. 

Trigger Warnings: Self depreciation, people being snappy, mentions of math,,,, I think that’s it??? LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING OKAY YOU GUYS SHOULD KNOW WHAT’S IN IT BEFORE YOU READ. 

The house lights in the auditorium barely kissed Christine’s face as she worked harder and harder on the script that had been given to her when she got the part in the play that Mr. Reyes had picked for that year. The red padded seats around her allowed her body to sink into a specific one; one that was seated exactly next to you as you worked on some packet for some class. With another breath, Christine scanned the lines, marking notes in the white pages, noting the moment before, the way she was supposed to say the line, the way that she was supposed to contort her face to appear upset in the situation. The line was to be delivered as a line of betrayal, a line of doubt, a line so full of passion and a scathing murder by the end of it. Not literally, of course. That would be intense, even compared with the previous year’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. But the line was written by someone who clearly didn’t say it out loud, or had any clue as to what real people sounded like when having a conversation with one another. It was choppy, wrong, came out almost like food poisoning from gas station sushi: a jagged pain in the stomach, and just completely ruining the air with vomit mere seconds later.

Christine decides she should diagram it again, her pencil marking a large slash in the line, previous pencil marks almost barely erased, lines that used to be so dark just wasted on a lackluster moment. She could feel her flatness against her scene partner—she hated that. But maybe this, this simple cut, this new way of thinking, this precise train of thought would change everything. Maybe Mr. Reyes would finally have his faith in her restored. Maybe this was the correct way, and would roll of her tongue so naturally she could practically see the scene as if she were the character, not Christine putting on a mask and waiting for it to morph to her face.

Christine says the line out loud into the empty theatre, the echo ricocheting back to her. It isn’t right. She didn’t need to hear the echo to know that, but with the sound waves returning to her burned her flesh almost like acid rain would. With a grunt, she erased the dark line she’d just drawn to cut the line into something more magical than it was. But all she got in return was the sorry lonesome aura of defeat tumbling around her. It was now she silently thanked herself for using pencil instead of the ever permanent pen. Another scratch, another attempt, another failure, another eraser mark.

But she tries it again, deciding to take a breath in an old place and use different vocal inflection. Christine cringes as the last syllable exits her mouth, the echo almost as unbearable as last time, the cushy red seats doing nothing to muffle the noise as it attacks once again. She swears the lights flicker in disappointment, almost sending her into complete darkness, complete failure. An exhale escapes her as she rolls her head back, her feet remaining on the seat in front of her, pressed against the back in anguish while her backpack is sitting innocently underneath, unaware of the violation Christine was about to commit.

Her hands dive into her backpack, pulling out a one sided worksheet she’d already gotten back, participation points given in full, and scribbling with her now dull-pencil. While she hated diagraming sentences, it was the only way—it had to be the only way, to make this line sound correct, sound like magic, and make everything in the world make sense, even if the world she was acting in was imaginary. The dim lights around her forced her eyes to look closely at every mark that was made, the yellow glow not relaxing her even in the slightest as she attempted to diagram the sentences. The line perfectly divided the sentence, seemingly making it flow better than Christine had ever attempted before. But if wasn’t enough. It couldn’t be enough.

So she diagramed it several different ways—as many as she could think of while her brain moved ever-faster than her fingers. The most she could get down were three, each diagram different from the last, before her brain finally gave out and couldn’t produce any more variations of the awkwardly written syntax. But hopefully, the answer would be written and displayed in front of her. It had to be. There had to be something so magical that she would be able to feel it in her heart, like she was actually the character and her scene partner was actually their character. The answer had to be in front of her. She was out of options and out of time. While the three diagrams stared her down, full of opportunity and options, she hoped and prayed that the first diagram would open the door to success and newfound ways of ringing out the line of passionate distaste into the audience and her scene partner. It wasn’t wishful thinking, Christine just saw that one diagram and had decided to make it her best ever. It flowed in her mind easily, lazily creating a pattern of beauty like watercolor across a canvas, the motion working with her rather than against her.

Christine attempts the line out loud, giving it her all—only to find the world she’d created in her mind to turn grey and fall apart right in front of her. The golden frame she’d put the painting into burned in an instant, causing a surge of anger to course through her veins and forcing her hand to cross out that diagram repeatedly, until the ‘x’ couldn’t be erased even by the best erasers in all of mankind. She knew that Mr. Reyes was going to be on her again, frustration infiltrating her brain, causing the usually calming theatre around her to turn red as she stared at the now ruined work she’d just done.

A few breaths, and Christine decides it’s time to focus on the second option. The first one is done—it doesn’t matter anymore. Wipe the slate away and attempt it again. Inhale. See the scene, smell the smells, and let the words flow through her veins organically like some kind of Disney movie song. She was ready, she was working, she had everything set. The colors were there, a lovely blue and white checked tablecloth with yellow daisies on the table—just like Mr. Reyes had talked about for the set. She could see her scene partner there, the face so clear in her mind that this felt like it could be it. Another inhale. She was ready. The words flowed from her, but almost like sappy sticky unsavory bubblegum. It plagued the scene, completely deteriorating everything around her. It was a source of dark matter and Christine could already tell just how flat and fake she sounded.

A grunt comes from her before she decides to scribble that one out as well. This time, it’s more of a panic, hands slightly shaking as she does so. Because that was 2 out of 3. This last one better be it. If not, Christine is going to be in deep shit. Mr. Reyes might even take her role and just give it to the understudy if she couldn’t get this line just right. But this third one might be her saving grace. It might be her life preserver, it could be the one note she’s missing in the chord that feels like home. So, Christine makes a choice to give it a whirl, the best whirl she can muster, trying to still see her surroundings as the character, attempting to have something at least a little better to work off of this time. She sits up, inhales, and in an instant—

“Christine, can you not?”

The words almost cut her as she exhales. For a few minutes there, Christine had forgotten you had been there. You—her partner in crime for a few months now. She’d gotten close to you a while ago, and later struck up something like a romantic relationship with you. It wasn’t like you two weren’t explicit about what the relationship was, Christine just liked the theatrics in telling people that you two were somewhat definitely an item. She can still remember the looks on the faces of her friends as she flaunted the fact that yes, you two were essentially dating and that you were definitely off limits to everyone else, especially those that could hear her project her voice across the room. Of course, there had been the worry of how Jeremy would react, but when everything was said and done, there was nothing to worry about; they were friends, they had remained friends, and they would probably always be friends. At a previous time, he had been good to her, consistently being a good partner and actively keeping the relationship going. But the romantic aspects of it were almost too much for Jeremy, worried he was going to make a mistake, nightmares, and so much more that this newer situation—good friends—worked better for both of them.

Christine got a little worried—you could’ve asked that about anything. She assumed it was her shifting around with each failed attempt, but she wasn’t sure. You’d been quietly doing homework beside her, pencil only adding to the white noise of the theatre. Or maybe it was the fidgeting she had been known to do. While it was often encouraged in rehearsal and in the theatre because it encouraged physical decision making, around you doing homework it probably wasn’t ideal to say the least. But fidgeting made things easier, it helped her remain somewhat calm at all times of the day, it made her head clear and her heart flow freely. You knew that. You’d even gotten her a fidget cube the last holiday season. She’d left it in her locker by accident, maybe this was a sign to go and get it—an attempt to sneak into the rest of the school might clear her mind and help with this line as frustrating as it was. But then again, maybe it wasn’t the fidgeting or shifting or whatever else was running through her brain a million miles a minute. It could be anything.

“What do you mean?” She asked, looking at you sharply, knowing that she wasn’t angry, just curious as to why you were acting this way.

“You just keep repeating that line. Can you just…I don’t know, give it a rest? Just for the rest of tonight?”

Christine could feel herself deflate, everything going from moving fast and positively to nothing. Silence surrounded her; fidgeting stopped. Out of everyone in her life, she assumed that you would understand the need to get this line right. Mr. Reyes had been getting upset with her more and more in the past few rehearsals because it’s a tough line, and he assumed she’d be able to handle it. And she’d confided in you about that a few weeks ago. You’d comforted her, and assured that she wouldn’t lose her role, no matter how annoyed Mr. Reyes got with her. Now, that seemed like false hope, and those words were just ones said were half truths. You didn’t know the future, and with you telling her to shut up, Christine was worried about it so much more than before. While you’d admitted that the line was nearly impossible to get right, here you were turning your back on her, when she wasn’t even doing something that intense like she sometimes did. The shifting, the fidgeting, the everything, she could understand, but you knew how much this meant to her. Why the change of heart? While the words didn’t create a deep cut, she could understand that the same thing over and over again could be annoying, especially to you, who is trying to do homework as she attempts this one thing over and over again. So, she decided to take your request, and apologize for bothering you when you obviously were so deep into homework. She’d apologize for forgetting your needs and putting her own above yours. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No, Christine, that was my fault. I’m sorry, I just need to do well on this exam and I have zero confidence on any of the answers to the open ended questions.”

“What class?” She asks, more chipper than before, now understanding your social cues. You weren’t upset with her practicing, you were upset about the problem at hand. Christine laced her arms around yours, giving your arm a hug while she rested her head onto your shoulder as she brought her legs up onto the red velvet chair she’d been sitting in for what must have been hours now. She sat almost kin to criss crossed, her feet slanted towards her left on the velvet chair. Her fingers quietly drummed against your bicep, knowing that these moments of touch, these moments of softness, helped you calm down when things got tough, when the world felt like it was against you and you alone. You’d mentioned it briefly once at 3 AM some random night a few months back, when both of you were more than a little tired. Christine wasn’t sure why that specific moment, fairy lights being the only thing that was lighting up your figure, was the one that stuck out and the one that she remembered the most clearly, but the image was clear. And after that, there was lots of blushing and new contact, but Christine liked contact, just like you did. She was just more forward about it—initiation came easily to her. Her eyes scanned over your work as she felt your body exhale.

“Math.” Now Christine wasn’t the best at math, probably far from it, but she at least could understand concepts well enough to get pretty good grades on exams. And she always remembered things the teacher said that most students couldn’t—she knew what she was doing until she didn’t. She skimmed over your hard writing, searching for basic mistakes: the things she could actually help with. Her eyes landed on one, and her body lit up, energy suddenly surging through her.

“I see why you’re getting fractions,” she giggled.

“Why?”

“Because you multiplied by the constant 13 rather than the slope, silly.”

You threw your head back, and Christine could feel the groan erupt from you, the vibration so violent she was sure it would cause her head that was resting to shake. With another eruption, a loud FUCK escaped, causing Christine to try and suppress her giggles. She moved her hand and joined it with yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze as you began to erase the incorrect work you’d done. She doesn’t look up—she doesn’t have to, knowing that the contact with you was enough to help you calm down a little more than you would’ve if you were by yourself. Because that’s what partners do, right? Help comfort the ones they love. “If it makes you feel any better,” Christine began, “everything else was right. You have nothing to worry about, I don’t think. I mean, I could have Jeremy take a look at it, he’s a really good teacher who often tutors me on similar stuff.”

Another sigh left you, this time without the vocal violation, but Christine could still feel your frustration and movement through her body. She kissed your clothed shoulder before smiling into it, knowing how much you adore simple and easy contact. It was easy to love, easy to do, and easy to ignite something more from it. But right now, in the quiet theatre and surrounded by more yellow light, it was enough to just have her there, and have her give soft touches and kisses anywhere she felt the need to place them. There was another second before she got up and began to pack up her extra papers into a random folder in her bag before refocusing back onto you.

She couldn’t help but commit everything about you to memory: the way that the light made your eyes glow even though you weren’t in a good mood, the way your hair seemed to glisten, your hands scribbling notes and your face almost scrunched in concentration. While to you, it was painful and upsetting, to Christine, it was the world, the little moments, and something that was worth documenting. It was in this moment that she realized you were still going, despite being angry with yourself. She always preached about self-care; now was the time to monitor it in you. “Hey,” she smiled as she sighed out the word, “don’t worry about trying it again right now, you’re already upset. You’ll make more mistakes.”

“Christine, I need to get this done.”

She pouted for a second before an idea—something that would pull you away no matter what, emerged. “We should go, it’s late, and I think they’ll want us out of here. I like being rebellious onstage, but I’m already in jeopardy of losing this part,” Christine joked, a small giggle leaving her as she wiggled a little bit, knowing that this plan was perfect, it was the way to get you to be your usual self again.

“Christine.”

Now was the time to implement the idea, the plan that would help you relax into her arms, which she so desperately wanted, especially after the frustration that radiated off of you had hit her. Your eyes hadn’t moved from the problem, but that didn’t matter or make a difference in this plan. “You remember how we first started talking?” Christine smiled wider, so wide her cheeks hurt but she didn’t want to stop this feeling. As good as an actress she was, Christine was never a good liar or secret keeper, unless it was something bad. Every trip or surprise was somewhat ruined because she just couldn’t keep it in.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“I was debating with that one guy about how women have a right to their bodies and was running out of evidence until you” she shook the arm that wasn’t writing before kissing your cheek, “swooped in and saved the day!”

Now it was your turn to not be able to hide the smile on your face as Christine looked at you with wide eyes. Her plan had worked—you were already starting to crack under her positivity and smiles. Your pencil was doing less work as Christine continued smugly, knowing that she was wearing you down. “And then we obliterated him about gay rights and gun control.”

A small giggle came from you now, the pencil ceasing all movement as you threw your head back. Christine joined in the giggle, knowing how badly both of you needed this moment of softness, moment of pure angelic laughter ringing through the rafters of the theatre. Although everything had seemed dim before, the entire room was lit up in golden light as the two of you smiled at each other, echoes still ricocheting off of the walls and ceiling. You finally made eye contact; your eyes shined, the world became faded, your smile was so genuine, almost perfect in the darker lighting. This look was different to Christine because suddenly, in an instant, everything made sense. The world, the math, hell that one line she’d been tirelessly working on made sense. You radiated positivity and light in that moment, and Christine wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

“See?” She swallowed hard. “You’re smart. You know what you’re doing. You hold your place beautifully—onstage and at school. I have faith that you’ll do great on this test.” There was another beat of her looking into your eyes, deciding that this was another moment to document into her long-term memory. She was completely infatuated by the muted color, the widened pupil, and everything about them. You tore your eyes away, but Christine couldn’t seem to do the same. She watched with curiosity as you moved through space. While usually, everything wasn’t full of grace, you seemed to be oozing it as you put your papers away, smiling to yourself as you softly set things back into the cloth bag. Christine could feel her face become rosy, probably noticeable to you, even when you weren’t looking directly at her. But it didn’t matter, no matter how embarrassing it might be for Christine. You deserved to know that she still got butterflies around you and still felt the same, even after hardships and a few months of dating. From doubts that stemmed from her and Jeremy’s relationship to your own insecurities, she still felt the same and couldn’t change that if she tried—if the entire world tried to tear you two apart.

“Chris?”

“What?” she jumped in surprise at your sudden call out.

“I said, maybe this problem can wait until later. Do you want to come over to my house? My parents just went shopping, we have food, movies, and fuzzy blankets.”

Christine blinks a few times, processing the information that was just given to her. You were proposing a self care night after the painful ideas and thoughts that surrounded you two in this moment. You had decided to push everything, the entire world, away for a few hours. Plus, free food and movies. The mention of fuzzy blankets was enough to get Christine fidgeting more than she had that entire night out of excitement. “What are we still doing here? Let’s go!” she exclaims, throwing her hands above her head as the word “go” left her. There isn’t even a second before Christine stands up, throws her backpack over her shoulder and grabs your hand, ready to exit the theatre and the situations that you two had been thrust into just in the past few hours. With a twirl to look behind herself, a look of pure love is shared between you two, each of you falling harder and faster with every passing second. After a bit, Christine runs, leading you by the hand out of the row, out of the theatre, and to your mom’s car that she let you borrow to go to school and so that you and Christine could study in the theatre after classes. You catch up to her in the parking lot, still running towards the car, running and giggling the entire way. The only lights leading the path are street lights, and of course, the sweet light that was the enjoyment of each other’s company.

[be-more-heidi-hansen]

Play Rehearsal (Christine Canigula X Female!Reader)

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: cursing, bi female reader? wlw christine? do these count as warnings?

(A/N): nobody requested this but i love christine and couldn't help myself. also reader is bi.

(f/fy/f) means (favorite froyo flavor) btw

ALSO ALSO i added evan because i love him too. the phrase "I'm a froyo virgin" was taken from a fic I read a WHILE ago and still to this day think is so something christine would say dfghsdf. enjoy, and if you really like it, consider liking/reblogging! it would be really appreciated!

forever taglist: @dani-garb @anxiousankylosaurus

~

You were at play rehearsal at Middleborough High, working on props, paintbrush in hand. You were supposed to be painting a backdrop for scene four, but instead you were standing and watching a particular actress talk to your friend, Jeremy.

Christine Canigula was probably the prettiest girl you'd ever laid eyes on, despite the fact that she wasn't even ranked second prettiest in the school's eyes. No, that place was reserved for Brooke Lohst, who was second only to Chloe Valentine.

So no, by unanimous decision of everyone else at Middleborough, Christine wasn't the prettiest in school, or even second prettiest. But she definitely was to you. She was sweetly dorky, excitable, and easily the cutest person ever. And, sadly, you really liked her. And you were sure it showed, at least a little.

Back to the present. You were admiring Christine from afar, watching as she smiled and conversed with Jeremy, probably about the play, or how excited she was about rehearsal. You were so distracted, you didn't notice someone walking up behind you.

"You are so gay for her." Michael said through a laugh, clapping a hand on your shoulder. You jumped, startled, and swatted his hand away. "Dude, you scared the shit out of me. And no, I'm not!" you huffed, looking anywhere but Michael's smug-ass face. "You totally are." he insisted, and you rolled your eyes, smiling a little.

He was right, unfortunately. You had a big, very-not-straight crush on the bubbly theater girl who was no longer talking to Jeremy, and instead was currently practicing her lines, dramatically. "Okay, maybe a little." you admitted, seeing Christine pout after fumbling a line two times in a row.

Michael laughed. "Then why don't you tell her?" he said, and you looked back at him with an incredulous expression. "Oh, I dunno, maybe 'cause she probably doesn't like girls?" Michael scoffed.

"You really are a clueless lesbian." he joked, and you laughed. "I'm not a lesbian, dummy. I just happen to like girls. And guys. And I also just happen to be very clueless. Sue me." you shrugged, and Michael shook his head. "What are you talking about, anyway?" you asked, and Michael pointed at Christine.

"You never noticed the rainbow patch she has on her jacket?" He said. You squinted and saw that Christine did, in fact, have a rainbow patch on her jean jacket.

Your jaw dropped. "How the fuck did I not notice that?" you asked yourself, and Michael shrugged. "Like I said. Clueless lesbian." you gave him a look and he quickly corrected himself. "Clueless bisexual." you nodded appreciatively, laughing.

"I'm gonna tell her how I feel after rehearsal." you declared confidently, and Michael grinned proudly at you. "I'm rooting for you. You'd make a cute couple." you flushed pink at the thought. "Thanks, Mike." you said, and he nodded before turning and walking away. You could hear him telling Rich that the word 'fuck' was not in the script and that he shouldn't pretend it was while practicing his lines.

Taking one last look at Christine, you let out a breath and turned around, continuing your work painting the backdrop.

~

Rehearsal was over, and you were officially terrified. You watched Christine grab her backpack and begin to head out. Your head whipped around to find Michael, who gave you an encouraging thumbs-up. You decided it was now or never.

"Hey, Christine!" you called, holding a hand out as if that would telekinetically make her freeze. She stopped, turning around to face you with a smile on her face. "Hey, (Y/N)!" she chirped, eyebrows raised expectantly. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself.

"So, I was wondering if you'd wanna go hang out at Pinkberry? Right now?" she smiled wider, adjusting her backpack over her shoulders. "Sure! Let's go!"

~

As you parked your car, you took a silent, deep breath. Christine quickly unbuckled her seat belt and stepped out of the car, waiting for you. You wiped your sweaty hands frantically over your jeans. Once you were sure they were dry, or at least less moist than before, you stepped out of the car.

"I wonder how many flavors they have?" Christine asked, and you glanced at her, surprised. "Haven't you been here before?" you questioned, and Christine looked over at you before dramatically putting the back of her hand to her forehead like she was feeling faint.

"You caught me! I'm a froyo virgin!" she wailed, and you felt heat rise to your face as people around you turned and stared. "That's okay, Chris, I'm sure you'll love it." you assured, chuckling. She laughed with you and you both headed inside.

Standing at the register was a kind-looking boy with dirty blonde hair. He was picking at his nails anxiously. When the two of you reached the counter, he jolted as if he hadn't noticed either of you come in.

"O-oh, hi. I'm sorry, I was just- I mean, I don't want to seem rude or anything, like I was ignoring you or-or something, I just kinda zoned out, y'know?" he rambled, looking more and more flustered. You weren't sure what to say. The three of you stood in silence for a few beats.

"Uh- um, I mean- welcome to Pinkberry, what would you like?" he asked, and you quickly glanced down at his nametag. Evan.

"Well, Evan, I'd like a (f/fy/f). What would you like, Christine?" you gestured to the large menu above both of your heads. She stared rather intensely at the menu for a moment. "Hmmm..... I think I'll try what you got, (Y/Y/N)!" she chirped, and Evan nodded, ringing the two of you up. You quickly pulled out your wallet at the same time Christine did.

"I got it, Chris." you assured, and Christine huffed. "(Y/N), no way! I can pay for my own froyo, silly." she tried to hand a few bills to Evan, but you blocked her hand. "It's no problem, Chris. Froyo isn't super expensive." she tried to act annoyed but you could see the small smile on her face as she put her bills back in her wallet reluctantly. "Okay."

While the both of you waited, Christine went to find a booth. "Y-you guys make a cute couple." Evan remarked, having come back with your frozen yogurt. Startled, you blushed and stuttered like he had only minutes before.

"We- uh, we're just friends." Evan's eyes widened. "Oh! I'm sorry, it's just that you guys are really close and you just kinda give off that vibe, if that makes sense? I don't know that probably sounds really weird and-" "Evan," you interrupted his increasingly nervous ramblings. "It's fine. I mean... I see where you'd get that idea. I really like her, actually." Evan smiled softly, handing you your froyo. "Well, I hope you guys end up together. Enjoy your yogurt." you grabbed them from his hands, smiling softly. "Thanks, Evan."

~

When you reached the table, Christine was reading a book titled Will in the World: How Shakespeare Became Shakespeare. You placed her froyo in front of her and her head shot up from her book. She smiled and put it away in her backpack. "Thanks." she grabbed her spoon and took a small taste. Her eyes widened and her brows raised in an expression of surprise "This is so good!" she exclaimed. "I don't know why I've never been here, I don't live that far." she remarked, and you chuckled. "I told you." you smiled.

You two had a steady conversation going a few minutes later until Christine suddenly trailed off, squinting and looking off into space like she was in deep thought. You stared at her in confusion, debating whether or not you should wave your hand in front of her face. Before you had the chance to say, 'Earth to Christine?' she spoke.

"Where was I?" she muttered, still looking deep in thought. You just chuckled. "Shakespeare." you supplied, and Christine's face lit up. "Oh, right!" she exclaimed, and continued talking about how fascinating it was that nobody actually knew when Shakespeare was born.

'God, she's so cute.' you thought, and when Christine paused again, you thought it was because she had forgotten what she was gonna say again. You were about to supply her, once again, with 'Shakespeare.' when you looked up and stopped short. Her face was slightly red, eyes wide.

"What? Is there something on my face?" you asked, wondering what she was thinking. "You think I'm cute?" she asked, and you froze. Shit, did you say that out loud? "Shit, did I say that out loud?" Christine nodded. When she continued to stare at you, you realized she had asked you a question. "Uh, yeah. I think you're, uh, really cute, actually." she beamed at you, face now a soft pink.

"I think you're cute, too." she said quietly, and you felt heat rise to your face. "I- uh..." you trailed off, not knowing how to continue the conversation. The two of you sat in silence for a few moments, blushing and smiling. Suddenly you waved your hands as if to clear the air.

"Listen- I meant to ask you here on a date, but I kinda wussed out last second." Christine's eyes widened. "Really?" she asked, and you shrugged sheepishly.

"Yeah, I kind of.... no, actually, I really like you." you corrected yourself, and Christine smiled so wide you felt your stomach twist with delight.

Christine's face turned bashful suddenly. "So....do you want to go out?" she asked, and you sat there, shocked for a moment. "I- uh- yes! Yeah, definitely!" you exclaimed, a little embarrassed at your obvious excitement. Christine giggled lightly.

You two ate your froyo in silence for a few moments before Christine reached over cautiously, taking your hand in hers. Your eyes widened in surprise before you gripped her hand back.

Suddenly, movement from the corner of your eye caught your attention. You glanced over to see the cashier Evan giving you an awkward smile and a thumbs up. You smiled back at him, holding in a small laugh of giddiness.

~

Once the two of you were done, you drove Christine home. Before she stepped out of the car, she seemed to make a split-second decision, leaning over and pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Bye, (Y/N)!" she exclaimed before hopping out of the car and shutting the door, turning around briefly to wave at you.

You sat still in shock for a moment, heat rising to your face. A wide smile overtook your face as you drove away. The second you got home you whipped out your phone to text Michael.

(y/n): !!!!!!

michael: im guessing the date went well??

(y/n): guess who has a new girlfriend

michael: fucking superb, you funky little bisexual

You snorted. God, were you gay for Christine Canigula.

[kavinskysbabe]

SERIOUSLY WHERE THE FUCK CAN I GET SOME MOUNTAIN DEW RED

[lollipop-o-lollipop]

How They React To You Liking Them (BMC Girls)

Christine: She's happy of course and she gets so flustered and has to tell all of her friends to ask for advice, and eventually she goes up to you during a rehearsal. "H-Hey, (Y/N), you know our kissing scene?" you nod cluelessly. "Maybe we could, um... practice sometime?"

Chloe: so she finds out from Jenna, and at first, she's like 'whatever, i don't like them', but then she sees Jake flirting with you, and she's like wtf so she walks straight up to you and kisses you in front of him.

Brooke: this smol bean starts to hang out with you more and then one day, she's driving you home and she's like 'wanna go on a date?' so you just nod and you go get frozen yogurt and it's cute

Jenna: After Jenna tells literally everyone, she sees you getting picked on for it and she stands up for you and then they're like, "protecting you boy/girlfriend?" and she just nods

[a-simple-gaywitch]

36 Christine x reader

((I made it gay sorry not sorry))(But if you want one with a male reader let me know)

You rubbed your eyes and wandered into the kitchen to see Christine already up and making breakfast.

“Hey, beautiful,” you said with a smile, wrapping your arms around your girlfriend and setting your head on her shoulder.

She smiled and put a pancake on top of the pile on the plate. “Morning, Love.”

You let go to get coffee/tea/other hot drink and looked at her with her messy morning hair and a shirt that was adorably too big.

“Wait, is that my shirt?” You asked, holding the warm mug in your chilly hands.

“What? Oh, yeah, I just grabbed one. That’s okay, right?”

You smiled and set your cup down, pulling Christine to you. “Of course.”

Christine smiled and rested her head on your chest. “I have the best girlfriend ever.”

[you-thinks-wrong-romeo]

Just You?

Christine x reader fluff

Word Count: 649

Warnings: Insecurities

Not requested

A/N: Self-Projection, is that you? Also, Christine deserves more love! She is a cutie, not to mention a sweet little cinnamon roll. Okay, done! Enjoy some Christine fluff!

Masterlist

“Hey, Chris!” You said walking up to your girlfriend’s locker.

“Hey, Y/N!” She replied, giving you a small kiss, “We still on for tonight?”

“Yeah! You’re on Jiffy-Pop detail.” You said, making a shameless Heathers reference quoting one of Christine’s favorite musicals.

“That’s why I love you, Y/N.” She smiled, “Now I must bid you adieu.” She bowed dramatically as she left for Homeroom.

You were left in the hallway smiling like a dork at your silly girlfriend. God, I love her so much, You thought, I must have been a Saint in a former life to deserve her.

You started to think about it, and you decided that you didn’t deserve her. How could you? She was so smart and funny and talented, not to mention cute, the list goes on. You were just a theater geek, a nobody, a loser.

She’s going to leave you, your thoughts started, I mean, why wouldn’t she. She’s going to realize that she deserves better than you. Etc. Etc.

It went on until you saw her after school when you two went to your house to watch a movie. You cuddled up and watched Newsies: Live on Netflix.

She knew something was off, so when you went to the kitchen for popcorn, she followed you. When you got to your kitchen, you fell apart. You started crying and hyperventilating, it was bad. She immediately ran to you and asked if she could touch you. You shook your head yes, and she enveloped you in her arms. She held you until you calmed down a little.

“Are you okay?” She whispered

“Yeah. I’m-I’m fine.” You said, sniffling.

“What’s wrong?” She asked you, looking very serious.

“Umm, C-Crutchie at the Re-Refuge?” You tried to say, although it came out as more of a question than an answer.

“Y/N, we were on Watch What Happens.” She said, “What’s Wrong?”

You erupted into tears and blubbering, and she didn’t understand most of it. She did understand one thing, though, and it echoed through her head.

“You’re going to break up with me.”

“Shh. I’m here. I’m not leaving. We’re okay. I love you.” She repeated the words over and over again. She repeated them until you were calm again.

"I love you, Christine.” You said looking up at her. You did love her. You love her because she does things like this. She always knew what to say, what to do. She was perfect.

“Why did you say that I am going to leave you?” She asked, breaking the quiet after a while. You mumbled a response, but she didn’t understand it, “What?”

“Because you are perfect and smart and talented. Plus you’re SO cute,” she blushed at that, “you’re just so great, and I’m just me.” You finished.

“What?” She asked, confusing you, “Just you? Y/N, you are the best person I know. You’re talented,” She kissed you, “you’re kind,” She kissed you again. She kept doing this, eventually moving down your neck and, let’s just say, you two relocated to your room pretty quickly.

Later, when you two were… less occupied, you were snuggled up on the couch watching Newsies again. When it ended, she looked at you very seriously. “I mean it, all of it.” She stated, bringing up the topic from earlier, “I want to help you. I love you, and if I have to remind why every single day, I will do it, (Y/N), but you have to tell me when you feel like that.”

“Okay,” You whispered, avoiding eye contact when suddenly you smirked and looked up at her, “and hey, if that’s how you remind me, I’d be happy to tell you.”

“Haha, Y/N.” She said sarcastically, “Really, I don’t want you to feel like that, you’re incredible. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Chris.”

[macbookpro-hard-drive]

Poly relationship with brook and Christine please?- CHRISTIAN SLATER IS ON THE OFFICE!!!

;0

soft gfs

very soft gfs

sure christine has her excitable moments but she cares deeply for u and brooke

brooke plays with ur hair sometimes

if its long, she’ll braid it n stuff

unless u express that u dont want that

u support brooke and christine by going to their shows

u always bring flowers for them

sunflowers for brooke and roses for christine

ur proud of ur gfs.... they’re so talented... wowie...

a Lot of mall dates

u always get cookies bc cookies are god tier

or cinnamon dusted pretzel bites

hell yeah

brooke brings u and christine coffee/ur drink of choice in the mornings

lazy summers where u guys go to the beach

warm cuddles. ur usually in the middle

u and brooke have to keep up w christine’s impulsive decisions

“lets go to the park” “christine it’s raini- and she’s gone’

u and brooke remind christine to take her meds

if u take meds, they also remind u

wearing each others clothes..... bles....s.......

prom with ur gfs

they both look gorgeous

u also look amazing

party time

christine has stars by u and brooke’s names

u have a flower by brooke’s and a star by christine bc she’s a star

brooke has fruit

v soft kisses

u all constantly leave things at each other’s house

“babe i got ur sweater” “keep it” “no i wanted tht” “actually pls share sdjkfhsd”

i have nothing else i am very tired but thank u

[archive1111111]

this is for your BMC hcs/ships! please and thank you. i’m a 5’2 female, red dyed, shoulder length hair, brown eyes, freckles, and I have glasses. I’m an outcast, love to listen to 70s & 80s music, sometimes 90s. I have too many hoodies to count, I love to read and draw as well. i play video games such as overwatch, COD, etc. on my PS4. i also play Minecraft bc my friends made me. i quote vines and memes on a regular daily basis too!

this is the 70s/80s, hoodie and gaming loving anon, sorry! but i forgot to mention that i’m bisexual, theatre loving geek incase you wanted a gxg ship!

I ship you with Christine! Also sorry this is so short, I’ve been busy today

you were Jeremy’s friend first

you met Christine while they were dating, and became pretty close

you quote vines and internet shitposts at each other all the time

“hurricAne kAtrIna?”

“mORe LIkE hUrRicAne tOrTIllA”

you, her, and Jeremy watch musical bootlegs together, sometimes with Michael as well

Jeremy and Michael are the friends that made you play Minecraft

when she and Jeremy break up (amiably, of course, they stayed good friends) you take her out to eat and to the movies to combat any post-breakup sadness

you get even closer after that, and you’re not sure why

she definitely steals your hoodies, because they’re always more comfy when they belong to another person

after one of her performances she runs to you and wraps her arms around you

she kisses you on the cheek and then freezes

but you smile and kiss her back

[the-insanely-cool-connor-mu-blog]

Mamma Mia and Ice Cream

*rubs hands together* Alright get ready for some shitty Christine fluff!

Genre: Fluff (duh)

Summary: Your girlfriend breaks up with you and Christine comes to comfort you.

Warnings: Swearing literally once

A/N: I really love Christine and tried to write something in-character for her

Word Count: 540

It was supposed to be the day you proposed to your long-time girlfriend of two years. But she was breaking up with you—via text. The text read:

Y/N

I know we’ve been together for a while now, but this just isn’t going to work for me. Goodbye.

All of the time you spent together, all of the memories...It was like they didn’t matter. You were full-on sobbing now, and in no time, a girl with disheveled black hair and dark almond-shaped eyes stood in your doorway with a carton of ice cream and three DVDs. She was pretty, very pretty.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she began, “but I heard you crying and thought maybe...” she spoke, holding up the DVDs and the ice cream, “you’d like to have some ice cream and watch movies?” This was honestly probably the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you. Even she wouldn’t have...

Another sob racked your body, and you nodded. She smiled, grateful her efforts weren’t in vain. She plopped down on the couch next to you.

“Alright, let’s see here, we’ve got High School Musical, Les Mis, and Mamma Mia.”

“What’s Mamma Mia?”

She gasped. “You’ve never seen Mamma Mia?” she asked. You shook your head. “We have to watch it then!” She sprang up and put the disc in. “Oh, I’m Christine by the way, from down the hall.”

Your eyes widened in recognition. “You’re the asshole who was blasting Wicked at 2am!” You chucked a pillow at her. She giggled, her dark eyes gleaming.

“Guilty as charged. But I did bring chocolate ice cream, if that helps. I didn’t know what you liked so I just assumed, well, who doesn’t like chocolate ice cream, right?” You nodded.

“I’m Y/N, and...my girlfriend just broke up with me.” Christine flopped back down onto the couch and hugged you tightly.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, you don’t deserve that.”

You gave a weak smile. “Let’s just watch the movie.”

“Sure,” she nodded. You watched the movie together, and once you got to Dancing Queen, Christine pulled you off the couch and danced with you on the carpet. “You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life,” she sang, pointing at you expectantly. You grinned.

“See that girl, watch that scene,” you sang while twirling around.

“Digging the dancing queen!” you both sang in unison, your voices off-key. You two giggled and collapsed on the ground in fits of laughter.

After that you two stayed on the couch, eating the ice cream. You had both fallen asleep by the end of the movie, your head resting on Christine’s shoulder and her head resting on yours.

In the morning, she was gone. A note was left on the fridge door:

Y/N,

Thanks for the fun times

Wanna go for coffee sometime?

Here’s my number in case you wanna talk:

xoxo,

Christine, from down the hall

You immediately dialed the digits into your phone and put Christine on your contact list with a heart emoji by her name.

You smiled. Getting over your ex was going to be hard, but you had a feeling that it would be a bit easier with Christine there.

[mylifesjustacarousel]

r e q u e s t s ?

I finally decided to make a headcanon/imagine/one-shot account for Dear Evan Hansen and Be More Chill, so send requests if you would like to see some of that. (I’m also open to doing character x reader ships if you want :) )

[insertoriginalandcreativename]

Eyyy

If you write/draw any things for- Be more chill Heathers Dear Evan Hansen Newsies Amelie Please reblog so I can follow you!!