#sara cunningham

[theangrycomet-art]

Mom!

As much as Randy might throw theatrics about it, he will always take a hug and kiss from his moms before he heads out.

Especially with how dangerous his ninja stuff can get.

Sara likes to deliberately over do it to embarrass him- but this is a near pointless quest considering how much it takes for Randy to actually be embarrassed

the boy went before the school in nothing but a speedo in his freshman year for crying out loud

[theangrycomet]

Randy’s body looks dead when he’s schloomped into the Nomicon. If either mom found him like that there would be a MAJOR freak out session. Rudy in particular, with a combination of her natural protectiveness and lack of medicinal knowledge. Calling Sara doesn’t really help though when her wife can’t understand a thing she says.

 It’s honestly a miracle (or the fact that Randy as a general rule is good about being discrete and in a private location when entering the Nomicon)

Attached Ficlet below Cut for Context

@lav-chr-not-found thx for the ask.

When Rudy comes Home Early...

“Hey!” Rudy called out through the house, tossing her truck keys into a little pinch pot that served as the key bowl as she hung her hard hat up with her coat. “I’m home!”

Music could be heard from the upstairs, a blend of Rock and EDM that pulsed faintly through the wall.

Ah, Randy was home from school and surprisingly not at the Game Hole. Hm. Weird. Probably playing video games with his textbooks collecting dust where they weren’t holding up his book shelf. Tragically, it seemed her son had picked up her habits when it came to the whole academic thing.

Walking up the stairs, her hands drummed out the rhythm of the song into the railings as she called out. 

“Hiya honey, how ‘zat essay a coming?” She rolled her eyes, grimy knuckles knocking gently as she reached the door. 

Thud.

“Randy? What’s going on in there?” Waiting for a response, she raised an eyebrow. “Randy?

Nothing but the music. 

“Alright, I’m coming in.” Opening the door, her heart stopped. 

Just beside his rung ladder on his stomach, Randy lay prone on the floor, his hand holding a pen loosely to his math book. Still as a corpse, his eyes were blank and glazed, the life stripped from them. His mouth was agape with drool dribbling out of it.

“RANDY!” Dropping beside him, she shook him, fingers clenching on his grey hoodie as she grew more frantic. 

“I’m having the Best Damn Night” Sung her phone.

Fingers releasing their death grip, she slipped her phone between her ear and her shoulder before returning to her shaking. “Hey honey I got-”

“HOWDOICHECKAPULSE?” she blurted before laying down and putting her ear to Randy’s back. What was the normal pulse rate? Was this rate normal? It seemed slow. It was definitely slow. Was your pulse supposed to 

“I- what?” Sara sounded befuddled on the line; Rudy could practically hear her blinking. 

“Randy’slayinglookinghalfdeadonhisfloorandIheardathumpthat’swhyIwentintohisroom-”

“Rudy! Slow down, breath. I can hardly understand you,” Soothing and calm, Rudy did take a breath, as she stood up, sliding down the stair railing. Getting the keys, she continued to ramble on the phone. 

“Something’s wrong with Randy, he’s out cold on his floor and I couldn’t get any response out of him- I shook him- oh god I shook him, that’s bad isn’t it?” Nails scratching at the shaved parts of her head, she heard a door open and froze.

“Hey mom, what’s up?” 

Whipping around, she saw Randy sliding down the stair railing just as she taught him, an easy smile on his face. Landing at the base of the stairs without so much as a sound from his sneakers, he raised a brow. 

“Uh, mom?”

A primal sound escaped her as her phone went flying. 

“Rudy?!”

“Woah!” Stepping back up a step, startled, he raised his hands. His palm was inky from note taking, the same hue as his eyes. Wide with concern, they flicked around the room for danger. 

“What! What is it? What’s going -oof!” Crushing his lungs in a hug, he stumbled further back into the staircase, scrambling for a hold on the railing as his mom slammed into him. 

The breath taking hug didn’t last more than a second before she was gesturing frantically at him. 

“You were- I was- were you faking that?!” She yelled. 

Randy blinked helplessly at his mother, utterly bewildered. 

“Faking what?” he asked slowly. 

“You were on the ground unconscious not two minutes ago! I thought you were dead!” 

“Oh.” Clarity bloomed across his features as his eyes flicked to the ceiling, as though that might provide an explanation. “Um, I fell off the bed and hit my head?”

He said as though it were a question.

“Hit your head- you’re getting a head scan thingy-” Holding her face in her hand, her keys rattled widely as she flipped her other hand round and round, looking for the word. “The brain picture thingy- you know what I mean!”

“Woah, Ma,” Randy dashed between her and the door, waving at her to stop before gesturing to himself. “I’m fine.”

“You were and are NOT fine.” She pointed accusationally at him before grabbing his hand and dragging him outside. “And you will be getting an exam.”

“For what?” Following her in order to not dislocate his shoulder, it was relatively easy given her short stature and his long legs. Honestly, it didn’t seem to matter what they fed him; he just kept shooting up like a beanstalk. 

“For a reason as to why you were out cold.”

Digital rings and chirps emitted from Randy’s phone as he swiped it open. 

“Hi Mom. Yeah I’m fine.” he said calmly, digging his heels into the driveway to get her to stop. “Mhm. Yeah, she’s here.”

Nodding solemnly, he leaned confidentially towards her. “It’s for you.”

“He is NOT fine.” Rudy bristled as she gestured for Randy to go into the car. Sighing dramatically, he dragged his feet as he meandered to the passenger side door. 

The Nomicon really had to work on it’s timing.

[lgbtlovecomesfirst]

Jamie Lee Curtis Making Movie About Volunteer Mom for Gay Weddings

Sara Cunningham wrote a 2014 memoir about her relationship with her gay son.

“Jamie Lee Curtis confirms she has acquired the film rights to the story of an Oklahoma City woman who fills in for parents who refuse to attend their children’s same-sex weddings, the Washington Post reports.

Sara Cunningham, 55, first got Curtis’ attention last summer when she shared a PSA on her Facebook page: “If you need a mom to attend your same sex wedding because your biological mom won’t. Call me. I’m there. I’ll be your biggest fan. I’ll even bring the bubbles.”

Read the full story here 

[theangrycomet]

Alternate take on Rudy and Sara finding the Chaos Pearls; possession. Also wanted to color the mom’s so win-win.

[saywhat-politics]

Oklahoma woman offers to be a stand-in mom at LGBTQ weddings

A mom from Oklahoma has a PSA for the LGBTQ community: If your biological mom won't attend their same-sex wedding, she'll go as a stand-in

[screenzealots]

"Mama Bears"

“Mama Bears”

With its inspiring stories of love and acceptance, director Daresha Kyi‘s documentary “Mama Bears” embraces positivity over controversy. The film focuses on two women (Sara Cunningham and Kimberly Shappley) who are part of the tens of thousands of mothers across the U.S. who make up the online “mama bear” community, a group of mostly conservative, religious ladies who fully accept their LGBTQ+…

View On WordPress

[theangrycomet]

Sara hummed to herself, lemon mingling in the air as she scrubbed the kitchen counter. For as little as the Cunningham’s cooked, they still left a remarkable amount of a mess in there. It was a cross between work and eating space at this point, construction filings pushed off the side, mingling with Randy’s far from finished homework in a small mountain of papers on the bar. Plates lay collected from various parts of the house and lie dormant in the sink, awaiting to be washed. 

That, however, was a Randy Chore and it could wait until he got home from after school. 

Seeing a head of grey streaked brown roots, she found a face furrowed in disdained befuddlement as the target walked past, the bright blue ends of her pixie cut bobbing with each step. 

“What you got there, hon?” Putting down her sponge, she hugged her wife from behind and kissed her head. Gloves still wet with cleaning products, she avoided touching Rudy’s shirt as she stared at what was in her hand, 

“I have no idea.” Rudy tilted her head to look back up at her wife with a shrug. “I was organizing Randy’s closet and it rolled out. Almost cracked my head slipping on the damn thing.”

Hands still enclosed in her heavy duty work gloves from cleaning Randy’s room (Randy, bless his soul was a bit of a slob), she held an acid green glass orb. If Sara didn’t know any better she’d have said it glowed with menace. 

Which was simply ridiculous, as it was just an object and thus couldn’t do anything with menace on its own accord.

“Maybe some sort of eight ball thing?” she suggested dubiously, exchanging a look. 

“Well whateve’ it is it’s given me the heeby jeebies.” Crinkling her nose, Rudy held it away from them. “Plus, it smells like a body you’d find in an alleyway being eaten by cats.”

“Maybe that’s is why Randy’s clothes have been smelling so bad.” She teased, releasing her to return to the counter littered with crumbs from who knew when. 

“Eh, I still say it’s because our boy has yet to understand the concept of Deodorent.” Rudy shrugged. Holding it away as though it were a soiled diaper, she found a tupperware to hopefully contain the smell and plopped it in. “Whatever it is, I don’t want it in the house.”

Tossing the plastic container into a bag, she blew her wife a kiss as she headed out the door with the other garbage, tossing the orb unceremoniously into the bin.

Request from @lav-chr-not-found

I just don’t see those two really messing with the darn thing aside from getting rid of it. It’s creeping Rudy out and Sara, ever the pragmatic one, knows that if this was at the backity-back of their son’s closet than it’s not likely to be missed.

Another idea I had was Sara suggesting, very dubiously, that it might be one of those super bouncy balls, and Rudy, bless her probably-ADD-but-was-never-tested soul, just automatically slamming it to the ground, DESPITE her knowing by weight and feel that it’s glass. It smashes and chaos reigns.

[theangrycomet]

“Let me get this straight.” Rudy narrowed her eyes, pressing a finger accusationally against the table as she began to list off. 

“Randy comes home from YOUR school with an arm that is not only dislocated, but severely scratched up to the point of stitches with possibly a concussion.”

Tap.

“With NO visit to the nurse.”

Tap. 

“The only treatment he received was what HE PROVIDED HIMSELF in the boys bathroom.”

Tap.

“And after ignoring our calls,”

Tap!

“-you call us, not the day of the incident, not the next day, but THREE days later-”

Tap!

“NOT to discuss what happened,”

Tap! Tap!

“But to talk about his use of Catsup packets in books.”

TAP! TAP! TAP!

“Can you see the problem I’m having with your priorities as a principal.” Rudy growled, tapping the increasingly large dent beneath her finger.

Sara stayed silent, eyebrow raised judgmentally as she rubbed her wife's leg beneath the table in consolation. 

Principal Slimovitz sweated bullets, eyes flicking between the dented hardwood and the seething parent before him. When he found out which one of the superintendents called Rudy Cunningham for a parent-conference regarding her son they were getting fired. 

Headcannon: The reason Principal Slimovitz never calls Parent Teacher conference’s is because he’s scared of Rudy. Badly. She might have mugged him once or twice in her younger days. He can’t just call Howard’s parents because Mort will tell Rudy and she’ll come to see what the principal is accusing her son of. 

Sara, knowing this, tends to let Rudy do the talking.

Rudy has no recollection of mugging him, he was that unmemorable. She figure’s its her presence. (Which, in truth, is also a large part of it) and the fact she doesn’t take his BS when it comes to the monster stuff.