#clown bible god

[yourfaveneedsakiss]

God from Clown Bible needs a kiss! 💋

Requested by @nonhumanace

[aussie0608]

"There's a pain that gnaws me

I'm afraid to be alone

Terrors plague me

The night racks my bones

And You've forgotten me

And You've turned your back

And this world is shit

And You don't do jack"

- Judas, Clown Bible

[theyre-gay-because-i-say-so]

Today's LGBT+ Headcanon is;

God from Clown Bible-Pangender

Species; God

Requested by @nonhumanace

Status; Alive

[feerz]

Shitty jesus from jcs 2012 + textposts (pt 2)

[malloy-character-death-battle]

Death Battle Round 1

God:

i know she got punched in the face but she IS in charge of the universe i feel like she could maybe win a fight

okay I’m not too familiar with clown bible but this is the CHRISTIAN GOD I think they talk about zapping people…?

She's God. She's literally God. She laid out the earth. She was there at the gates of death. Horses? She made those.

Balaga:

gosipy old neighbor lady but make it old drunk russian man. unbothered king, just here to drive his troika real fucking fast and drink

[your-blorbos-are-queer]

god from clown bible is pangender (headcanon)

submitted by @nonhumanace

[karinyosa]

i could make a massive essaypost about it, or i could just show you all the genius lyrics annotations i made about clown bible judas

[hangingfromapses]

Clown bible and Puppet History, the only meaningful interpretations of god to me

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

late falcone family but it's "and oh my god my sweet sweet god i wish that you were dead"; "i have become like dust and ashes and i cry to you and you do not answer me you toss me about in the roar of the storm"

[heartplaces]

ik good omens is obviously quite loosey-goosey with the whole bible canon thing but. BUT. you have to find it interesting that muriel specifically turns into abaddon, literal angel of the abyss during the second coming. like it’s just a little interesting methinks

[number44newseries864962]

I love being a fan of No. 44 because I see people say stuff like "this creature is god's favorite guy" and I envision this 17 year old prettyboy being such a big fan of this weird little animal they're describing and holding it like a cat and babytalking to it.

[scripture-pictures]

[that-hazbin]

Things Alastor Has Definitely Said 3

Alastor: *reading a recipe* Whisk until pale... Lucifer, come here for a moment.

Lucifer: Hm, what?

Alastor: *grabs his arm, compares the batter to his skin* Hmm... I'd say that's close enough.

—

Alastor: How much of the Bible was even real?

Lucifer: Assume everything you read in it is false.

Alastor: I see, so Jesus never happened and God doesn't exist.

Lucifer: What? No—

—

Angel: What do you even know about addiction?

Alastor: ... Angel, I was a soldier in the First World War. I lived during the prohibition. I still take medicine with cocaine in it, and I still make moonshine in my bathtub.

Alastor: "What do I know about addiction," the nerve.

—

Vox: We could have been GREAT!

Alastor: Great what? Clowns? I don't want to be a part of your circus, Vox. Unlike you, I don't derive sexual pleasure from feeling humiliated. Take your Tony the Tiger impression somewhere else.

Vox:

Vox: How the fuck do you know who Tony the Tiger is?

—

Charlie: Look, Alastor, I'm not trying to step on your toes, but—

Alastor: You'd have a difficult time, given that I don't have any.

—

Alastor: Goodbye, chums! I'm off to have Girl Dinner with Rosie!

—

Alastor: Shut up, Susan.

Vaggie: ... That's not my name.

Alastor: ... Question, were you always an exorcist angel or did you have human relatives at some point? You remind me of someone.

—

Angel: And transgender is basically people who don't identify with the gender they were assigned to at birth.

Alastor: Oh, I see, so it's like how I tricked my sperm donor into thinking I was always a boy and made him think he was clinically insane for having memories of the contrary!

Angel:

Angel: You WHAT?!

[harryslittlefreakk]

dating at the drive-in

summary: harry finally gets a chance to take out the pastor’s daughter, under the guise of learning about faith. but it’s y/n who ends up learning 👼🏻🍁📽️

warnings: mentions of religion

wordcount: 2.7k

a/n: hello beautiful people!!! this turned out longer than i planned on lol but i really loved writing this 🥹 i want to write more of them

if there are any tropes or ideas you want to see during fictober, let me know!! <3

fictober masterlist | main masterlist

You didn’t quite know how you'd ended up there.

Well, you did. It had taken weeks of endless planning and scheming, whispered late night phone calls and half-hearted prayers to a God you weren’t sure you believed in, asking for forgiveness you weren’t sure you needed.

It had started when you were paired up with Harry in biology - him the boisterous, popular football player, and you, the quiet, often ignored, pastors daughter.

You hated your dad's commitment to his faith, his insistence on your inclusion into a community you’d never asked to be a part of. You wanted to be like the other girls your age, the girls who got to hang out at the mall and roller rink on weekends, not lead the children through Sunday school. You wanted real friends, ones whose houses you were allowed to go to after school without your dad meeting their parents first, ones who could come to your house without being weirded out by the heads dipping around the dinner table, the Bible passages recited before cutlery met food. Most of all, you wanted a boyfriend, and being paired up with Harry had only exacerbated that need.

He was the class clown, the kind of boy you read about - the ones who were cheeky, reckless at times but always able to charm themselves out of any real punishment. He was the football teams star player, the girls favourite eye candy and the boys favourite teammate.

But he was more than that, and the more he opened himself up to you, the more you wanted to exist in a reality where he could be yours.

Harry was studious and sincere, his grades never slipping his even as he explained, and explained and explained, until you finally understood.

The lines between a crush and love - or at least your inexperienced, teenage definition of it - blurred further everyday, until your heart started to physically react to Harry’s presence. The way his hand brushed against yours as he reached for his pen, his dimples set deep in his cheeks as he watched you speak.

Then one day he’d looked at you, really looked at you, seeing the face beneath the lights and shadows of the classroom projector. His stare had forced a great red blush over your cheeks, your name slipping out of his mouth in whispered tones until you’d finally turned to face him. “I really- please, Y/N, let me take you out, there’s a movie at the drive-in, it’s a Friday, I-”

Your heart had broken, shattered into a million pieces as you finally got what you wanted and yet couldn’t have it.

“I can’t, Harry. My dad..” your voice trailed off, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “My dad is the town pastor. He’d never let me.”

But he hadnt given in. Hed appeared bright-eyed in the back pew the following Sunday, his brows furrowing as he tried to follow the prayers and preachings.

He'd waited until the crowds dispersed, approaching your dad with faux interest, introducing himself as a young man who wanted to explore faith and find where he might fit in.

"A fine young man”, your dad had recalled that evening. That was where you came in.

"He goes to my school, Daddy. He asked me to teach him, to tutor him through the Bible.”

Youd crossed your finges under the table and hoped, prayed with a conviction you’d never felt before, that your dad would allow you this.

You knew what was running through his head. A boy, wanting to spend time with his little girl. On the other hand, a boy who wanted to join his church, who could pull out the enthusiasm that he’d noticed you lacking lately.

“Thirty minutes, once a week, at this table. We can figure out a day later,” he’d agreed after a beat.

And so you had half an hour a week with Harry, not alone, but not under the watchful eye of your classmates. He was overwhelmingly polite to your parents, patient with your insane younger siblings, and soon he would join your family for dinner on the day you’d tutor him.

He’d bided his time, waiting to have your dad fully on his side before he proposed anything further. Still, when he’d (not so) secretly asked your dad if he could take you to a movie, purely on the basis that you deserved a real, sincere thank you for the time that you’d devoted to Harry, you hadn’t expected him to say yes.

He had his rules of course, home within fifteen minutes of leaving the movie, absolutely no funny business, and most importantly, to bring home some real movie theatre popcorn for him.

Your dad wasn’t a bad man, not really. He was loving and caring in a way other men weren’t, never mean or angry as you knew your classmates dads could be. He was merely strict, bound by the rules of his faith.

But still, there you were, feet propped on the dashboard of Harry’s car, Lionel Richie’s Endless Love playing softly from the stereo as you waited for the movie to start.

“Why did you do all of this?” you blurted out suddenly, turning to face Harry. “You could have any girl, one that comes without all the.. God.”

“You’re special,” Harry replied, leaning forward to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his gaze intense as he looked over your face. “Besides, I really wanted to see this movie.”

You shook your head, his cheeky grin as infectious as always. “I haven’t seen the first one. I’m not really allowed to watch scary movies.”

“It’s not scary, I promise it’s not scary. It’s just this man, Michael Myers, he escaped from a mental institution and he goes back to his hometown to kill people,” Harry shrugged, nodding at one of the posters. “That’s him.”

“It sounds a bit scary,” you murmured, fiddling with the straw in your soda. The opening credits started to roll as you spoke, the ominous soundtrack already sending a chill down your spine.

“You sure you’re up for this?” Harry teased, a playful glint in his eye as he leaned closer, nudging you with his shoulder as he tuned the stereo into the right station.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bucket on his lap. “I’ll be fine,” you said, hoping Harry hadn’t heard the slight quiver in your voice.

“Of course you’ll be fine. No one would dare try to get you with me here,” he grinned, flexing his toned arm.

🍂˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕️

The movie started off slow, but the tension built quickly. Each scene seemed to draw you in deeper, until your heart was racing. The eerie music swelled, and before you knew it, you let out a little gasp, shrinking into your seat.

Harry chuckled softly beside you, his eyes never leaving your face, the arm he had wrapped around the popcorn bucket settled on top of your hand instead. "C'mere," he murmured, slipping an arm around your shoulders, gently pulling you closer.

You didn’t resist, settling into his warmth as his fingers brushed lightly against your arm. He gave a reassuring squeeze, but you couldn’t relax. The movie wasn’t scary, not really, but you were so full of tension, your heart pounding every time you remembered where you were - and who you were with.

Harry had this effortless charm, the kind that made your heart race the second he walked into a room. In the classroom, and over your dining table, it was like you could sense him watching you, his eyes lingering a little longer than necessary, his smiles just a bit more than friendly. And though you knew he was into you — the way he looked at you, the way he always found a way to be close, how his jokes were for your ears only, the fact that he’d even done all of this in the first place — you still couldn’t shake the nervous energy that clung to you every time they were together.

You hadn’t ever kissed anyone before, let alone had a relationship, and now, Harry was doing all the right things — the sweet touches, the lingering looks, the casual arm draped around your shoulders when you were sitting close. It was like he knew how to make you feel seen, but it only made you more aware of everything you weren’t sure how to do.

Whenever his hand brushed yours or his gaze caught yours for a moment too long, you would feel your cheeks warm and your heart stutter. You’d overthink every response, wondering if you were being too shy, too quiet, or if you should be more playful, like the girls who seemed to know exactly how to flirt. When he laughed at your jokes or flashed you one of those soft smiles, you’d forget how to speak, barely able to string together a sentence without making yourself look a complete fool.

Even there, sitting beside him in his car, your nerves hummed with anticipation. You could feel his eyes on you, the movie barely holding either of your attention. You wanted to act cool, to lean into him the way you saw in movies, but instead, you focused on your hands in your lap, your heart racing at the thought of him making a move.

When Harry shifted closer, brushing his knee against yours, you froze for a split second, but when you peered up at him, that easy, reassuring smile plastered on his face, you softened against his chest.

“You alright?” he asked softly, his voice low and gentle.

You nodded, your throat dry, but you couldn’t look away just yet. Not with the way your heart was pounding. You knew he could probably tell you were nervous — even if he couldn’t always read you so well, he could definitely feel it — but you weren’t sure how to act. Should you lean in? Should you say something flirty?

Instead, Harry shifted again, just enough to take your hand in his, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

Your breath caught, and for a moment, the words you’d been holding back nearly tumbled out: I’ve never kissed anyone. I don’t know what I’m doing. But instead, you bit your lip, your heart fluttering as you let yourself relax into him a little more.

The movie was the last thing on your mind, but you were vaguely aware of the music winding tighter and tighter until a sudden, loud bang burst from the stereo. You startled, your free hand instinctively curling into Harry’s t-shirt, the other gripping tight around his knuckles.

He smiled softly, his gaze lingering on you, warm and knowing, as if he could see right through the layers of uncertainty you’d been carrying all night.

He slouched in his seat until you were face to face, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“Y/N, I know,” he said, pushing your hair from your face. “I know you haven’t done any of this before.”

Where other boys would be teasing or impatient, Harry was just... kind. You swallowed hard, your gaze flicking from the green of his eyes to his lips, then back again, not sure what to say, but Harry was already one step ahead of you.

“And I don’t mind,” he continued, his voice soft but firm. “We can do whatever you want. Or don’t want. You just tell me, and I’ll follow your lead, okay?”

You felt your breath catch, a mixture of relief and something else washing over you. He was giving you the choice, the control, making sure you knew he wouldn’t push you into anything.

But you wanted everything with Harry. You weren’t even totally sure what everything was, but you knew you wanted it. Your voice came out barely above a whisper. “Harry-”

You couldn’t even say it. He was one of the most popular boys in school, and you were about to ask him to kiss you. You screwed up your face, feeling even more pathetic than normal.

Harry’s smile was gentle as he cupped your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your bottom lip. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

You nodded, feeling your cheeks blaze.

“You sure?” he asked, giving you one last chance to change your mind.

You nodded again, your heart pounding. “Yeah. I want you to.”

That was all he needed. Slowly, Harry leaned in, closing the gap between you. When his lips finally met yours, it was soft and careful, as though he was holding back, making sure you were still comfortable. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers weaving into your hair as he deepened the kiss, moving slowly, giving you time to adjust.

Your pulse was racing, the sensation of his lips on yours sending shivers down your spine. You hadn’t expected to feel so much all at once, the warmth of his touch and the way he was so focused on you. There was a tenderness to it, but there was also a hunger you could feel simmering just beneath the surface, restrained but palpable.

As your body relaxed into the kiss, you found yourself responding more, your hand tentatively splaying across his chest. That was when it all changed.

It grew more heated, Harry’s lips pressing harder against yours, his breath mixing with yours as the tension between you intensified. His hand tightened in your hair, pulling you closer as your mouths moved in sync, slower but more deliberate, each kiss longer, deeper, until everything else seemed to fade away.

The air between you was thick with heat, and you could feel the weight of his desire, but still, Harry kept the pace measured, never pushing you beyond what she wanted. His lips were firm, his movements sure, but there was always that quiet restraint, like he was letting you set the tone.

When you finally broke apart, both of them breathless, Harry’s forehead rested against yours, his fingers still tangled gently in your hair. He grinned, his voice husky and low. “How was that?”

You smiled back, heart still pounding in your chest. “Perfect,” you whispered, your lips still tingling from the kiss, his taste still lingering in your mouth.

Harry pulled you onto his lap, his hands gentle but firm as he positioned you close. His eyes traced the outline of your face as his fingers laced back through yours. “You are so different to what I expected,” he told you, his voice soft.

Your heart skipped a beat as his words sunk in, and you tilted your head, waiting for him to continue.

"I didn’t notice you before. Then you had all that personality tucked away. And your dad…”

His hand rested on your hip, anchoring you to him, his thumb gently stroking your side. “You’re a good girl. Nice and good,” he finished, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose.

But you didn’t want to just be a good girl. You pushed forward, trying to summon a confidence you didn't quite feel.

Your lips met his in a soft, tentative kiss. It was almost hesitant, as if you were testing the waters, unsure if you were doing it right. Your hand found its way to the side of his face, a little shaky, but you hoped he wouldn’t notice.

Harry’s hand came to rest on your waist, the simple touch giving you the reassurance you needed. He didn’t pull you closer or take control like you half-expected. Instead, he let you lead, allowing you to find your own rhythm.

You could feel yourself relaxing, gaining a bit more confidence with each passing second. Your kisses became firmer, more assured, though there was still a certain vulnerability.

“Nice and good,” Harry repeated when you pulled away, a shaky laugh bubbling out of your throat as he held you close.

please like & reblog if you enjoyed!!! 😀🥰

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[this-is-a-dystopian-parable]

Glad I'm not alone in doing this. My oranges went bad and my sewing machine is broken and the bus takes too long and I don't have enough time and it's raining again and I hate my mother and I lost my pen.

Kudos to Clown Bible, because now when I start to get overwhelmed with little things because I'm stressed out by bigger things, my mind just cycles into singing "Job," and I calm down :P

"I need to call the pharmacy tomorrow, and I didn't sleep well last night, and my tummy hurts, and this bagel isn't even that good, and my shoes don't fit, and I'm allergic to cats, and last night in the kitchen I swear I saw a rat..."

[your-blorbos-are-queer]

god from clown bible is genderqueer (headcanon)

submitted by @aceofhearts72