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when lomeli was welcoming the cardinals to santa marta he was sizing them all up but when bellini comes in he's literall like oh my god my beautiful angel has arrived

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I guest preached this morning and the congregation was like: “We didn’t know these hymns.”

Pianist: “Rev picked them.”

Member: “Oh - unfamiliar hymns help us grow.”

Me: *laugh, sincerely* “Why don’t we work on making a list of ones you do know?” 🤣

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I fear my dear conclaves I arrived at a plot for a modern AU in which Aldo, Thomas and Vincent are three queer men seeking guidance from their delightfully queer affirming OBGYN on navigating a journey into non-traditional queer family building.

It has taken on a delightful form of its own, and I finally understand the vision of my dear Bellin-Lawerence-Benítez shippers. I’m sold. They’re the beatific vision and I’m obsessed.

Thanks migraine plot development? 🙏🏻😌✨

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Look I’m a queer aspec person who is ambivalent about finding anyone but especially men attractive, but young Ralph Fiennes makes me feel something.

I think it’s his vibes of pure despair and sadness for me. ✨ lmao

Aldo? I fear he would’ve been absolutely undone by you by Thomas with a head of hair and mustache. I head canon he was fighting demons (Thomas) while working on his PHD in Rome on moral theology while Thomas was elbows deep in his PHD on canon law in the 1970s, 1980s.

Hopelessly attracted. Mortified. And in love. Your honor. Worse if it’s unrequited and mutual. 💔

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" n-no! it wasn't our intention to match... it was just coincidence... "

(some extras and actual photos)

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Oh no. The brain worms got me again - not me thinking about yet another plot idea of cancer patient Thomas getting a custom wheelchair.

I fear my friends, she already has a name. Thomas muse and I have a color scheme in mind.

Her name is Gloria as in Gloria in excelsis Deo. Latin for "Glory to God in the highest". A hymn reference.

The frame is Pomegranate Red with gold accents, matching spokes and caster forks.

Thomas is delighted to find he now moves faster than his friends and colleagues.

You will get run over if you don’t move out of his way.

Thomas had taken to giving running commentary as he maneuvered the hallways of the Vatican or zipped down the path in the gardens.

“Clear the way for His Rolling Eminence!” he’d call, cape slightly fluttering, cassock hem tucked strategically.

Vincent eventually has to get him a bike bell so he doesn’t roll over the innocent.

Thomas would snark back they should learn to watch where they’re going.

Liturgical and bespoke, a sleek respectable chariot befitting of supporting His Eminence, Cardinal Grump of the Divine Order of Snark, Apostle to the Bed bound, Exiled to the House of Lawrence. (aka his sister Kath’s apartment across the bridge from St. Peter’s basilica)

Thomas smiled every time he heard her name spoken.

Because for all the damage and grief his body had endured, Gloria wasn’t defeat. She was resurrection and new life on wheels.

Thomas was fast, free and forgiven. “Rolling towards glory.” He would smile.

Functional, stylish, and spiritually endorsed. Long may she roll.

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Scene: Holy Hydration & Triage Diplomacy

—Hospital Clinic, Rome, late morning

The ER doors slid open as Kathy marched in with the force of an entire nursing union, her eyes sharp, steps precise, clipboard in hand before anyone could hand her one.

Aldo followed behind, steady as ever, Thomas nestled in his arms like a collapsing saint, radiant and nauseous.

“Vitals are borderline, antiemetics failed at home, four episodes in two hours, zero intake today, two days post chemo,” Kathy informed the stunned triage nurse before she could finish her sentence. “Chart’s been uploaded. He needs a bed, IV fluids, and Ondansetron now.”

“He’s delirious,” Aldo said to the nurse, utterly professional, as if his husband wasn’t just comparing him to ecclesiastical pastry and political deity.

“I’m romantic, not delirious,” Thomas muttered, then winced as the nurse set up the IV. “OW—betrayal!”

“That’s a butterfly needle,” Kathy said, voice dry. “Stop being dramatic.”

“I’ve literally been martyred.”

“You stubbed your toe on the baseboard yesterday.” Aldo countered.

“It was suffering unto the Lord!”

Aldo perched beside the recliner, undoing the top button of Thomas’ shirt and rubbing gentle circles on his shoulder as fluids began to drip. The color was already returning to Thomas’ face. He sighed and leaned into his husband.

“You stayed on the call while I was vomiting. That’s love. That’s diplomacy. That’s multitasking for the Kingdom. It’s quite attractive.”

“That’s what marriage looks like, Thomas.”

“Then the Kingdom is well cared for. Also more of that rubbing. It’s helping.”

Thomas groaned again less from pain, more from the theatrics of his revival. Kathy handed Aldo a folded hospital blanket with a smirk.

“Wrap your ecclesial demigod in this. He’s shivering.”

Aldo tucked it around Thomas’ legs, brushing a kiss to his forehead.

“Anything else, Your Eminence?”

Thomas grinned weakly.

“Yes. Could someone please fetch a pudding cup, or I shall perish from lack of nourishment and ecclesial neglect.”

The triage nurse, by now fully caught between awe and amusement, blinked.

“We’ll… see what we can do.”

Kathy squeezed Aldo’s shoulder.

“Well done, Mr. Secretary. You didn’t let him pass out or negotiate a papal envoy while retching. You’re officially one of us.”

“Thank you,” Aldo said, adjusting Thomas’ IV. “He’s the easiest hard thing I’ve ever done.”

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Giggling at the thought of grumpy cancer patient Thomas being cared for his sister, Katherine, Kathy, a retired nurse, mom of three, grandma to eight, and widow to her late husband an Anglican priest - she’s very experienced at caring for the stubborn, Vincent, his best friend and spiritual companion, and Aldo, his lover.

Kathy has long been documenting his health with clinical efficiency and love, but before long, Aldo and Vincent’s notes appear beside hers.

Kathy - the nurse, the sister, the lioness.

ACO (Aldo) the partner, the shadow caregiver, the stubborn tenderness.

V (Vincent) the chaplain, the watcher of the soul, the keeper of the flame.

And one unofficial fourth observer.

Thomas himself, leaving crumbs—sly jokes, cryptic symbols, misquoted psalms, and doodles of his caretakers rendered as ducks in cassocks.

Sometimes Thomas’ oncologist - Dr. Esposito leaves his comments and observations too.

KATHY — 11:03 AM

Thomas walked to the garden with support. Sat for 15 minutes. Observed birds. Said nothing. Looked at peace. Noted tear tracks. Did not ask. Let him be.

ACO — 11:05 AM

Patient held my hand the entire time. No words. When we returned inside, he squeezed it and said, “Thanks for not making it about God.”

I told him love doesn’t need a sermon.

V — 11:07 AM

God was already in the garden. I made no additions. Left him in the sun. He knows Who walks with him.

CRUMB

(A leaf pressed into the page with a paperclip)

“That dove looked like a bastard.” - Tom

Dr. E smiled, shook his head slightly, and reached for a pen.

In the margin, Dr. Esposito wrote:

“Team stable. Patient stable-ish. Love evident. Continue.”

— E.

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This is Lawrellini on their wedding day tell me I’m wrong. Where would they go for their honeymoon? *screams*

My gay dads really went through two divorces and a custody battle during the Conclave but they deserve something soft now.

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Sometimes the conclave tag is like

Post of Carlos doing something wholesome

Post of Ralph doing something unhinged

Post thirsting for Sergio Castellitto in every age

In consecutive order

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✨Vaticanomenon✨

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“I know Lord I’m supposed to love all your children equally but I really have a hard time loving that one.” - me and probably, Thomas Lawrence.

Lomeli/Lawrence’s beef with Tedesco and Tremblay in the book really took me out not gonna lie. He didn’t not like them, lmao. Tremblay especially.

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Me and probably Thomas Lawrence:

“Why do you turn the big light on? It’s too bright.”

“I’m fine. I just need to lie on the floor of my office for 15 to 20 minutes and possibly groan.”

“Move along. Nothing to see here. I’m either talking to myself or God. Either way we are having a moment.”

“The better question is - why don’t you use soft lights in your office? I’m not the uncivilized being here.”

“No one speak to me or I’ll cry.”

“Nuts count as a protein and therefore a meal.”

“Don’t ask me why I do what I do. Ask yourself why you don’t?” Like for real, I keep comfy shoes and a sweatshirt in my office.

“Please do not perceive me for the next 3-5 business days.”

“I’m trying so hard to not be mean to you.”

“Do you want me to tell you that you’re an idiot or pretend to be supportive? I’m good either way. Just tell me what would be more helpful.”

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Me walking outside after being in my office all day: “Nooo, not sunlight. Be gone foul beast.”

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There’s a saying among clergy that you should always be ready to preach, pray or die within 5 minutes.

I fear Cardinal Lawrence might’ve taken that one a little too seriously. 💀💀💀

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I’ll have to do a series of posts on queer church history and the struggle for full inclusion, the right to be ordained or married regardless of your sexuality or gender identity.

It’s also one still being fought for in some Christian communities and traditions.

It is both/and.

Queer people have and always will exist, and yes, queer people of faith are present in pews and pulpits across the traditions and global geographical contexts.

The right to be ordained as an openly queer person has been fraught challenges; and even if your denomination is open and affirming on paper that doesn’t erase the realities of discrimination and queerphobia you may encounter.

If Vincent Benítez as an intersex person were to become pontiff irl, it would be earth shattering, and felt across the universal church, across traditions and denominations struggling to reconcile and respond to the magnitude of the revelation.

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Me when I remember I’m a clergy person and I can’t be mean because I’m in collar and on the clock rn: