#the reindeer was rudolfs song

[fandomshmandom69]

So I was at a home decor store earlier and found this…💀

Enjoy✨

#theres also a santa #a t-rex #a reindeer #and the grinch that twerked too 💀 #santa sang ‘santas coming to town’ #the t-rex was eye of the tiger #the reindeer was rudolfs song #whatever its called #and the grinch was his theme song #I was so tempted to get it ngl #but it was like $30 💀 #the video was longet #but it was three minutes lmao #but uh merry christ ig LMAO

[fidjiefidjie]

Belle soirée 💙🎄🎅 🆕️

Fiddler's Green 🎶 Rudolph, The Red-Nosed Reindeer

(Seven Holy Nights)

#new clip #fiddler's green #music video #rudolf the red nosed reindeer #video clip #chanson de noël #christmas songs #seven holy nights #clip music video #youtube #bellesoirée #fidjie fidjie

[wondersinwaynemanor]

it was Dick's idea of him and his brothers and sisters dressing up and performing Christmas songs for Bruce and Alfred. Dick is clearly Santa Claus. Jason (is Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer because ya know "RED"), Tim (which is also "RED", but they already added a red spot on Jason's nose so he's Rudolph), Steph and Cass are reindeers. Luke and Damian are elves (because Jason insisted they're the youngest so it should be them and pinched their cheeks for emphasis which made Damian pouty) plus Damian wanted to be a reindeer so he could dress up as an animal but NOPE - but he still looked adorable in the outfit, as well as Duke like always). They sang Christmas songs in the family room with the fire keeping everyone warm. Bruce and Alfred were on the couch, smiling as they watched their family perform in awe. Alfred served hot cocoa and gingerbread and cookies for the family afterwards.

Merry Christmas to the batfamily, my beloved <33

Merry Christmas to everyone, happy holidays!! <333

#batfamily #batboys #dc universe #batman #bruce wayne #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #dick grayson #CHRISTMAS IS HERE

[applesauce42069]

i want to make a hanukkah album with one sympathy christmas song. it will be rudolf the red nosed reindeer.

#jumblr #hanukkah

[notyour-valentine]

The Boy in the Window ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader (Series)

Summary: (Y/N) thinks the boy her daughter sees in the window of the neighbouring house is nothing but a childish fantasy, after all, no one has lived there for years, but when she brings that boy to lunch, she realises that he is in fact very real, rather hungry and quite cold and above all- the son of none other than the infamous Tommy Shelby. Expect spoilers for Peaky Blinders Season 1-4.

Note: This is the prologue to a multi part Tommy Shelby x Reader series with the purpose of an introduction to the reader and her life.   I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other. 

Here, you can find my [Masterlist] and the [Series Masterlist]

Warning: Canon conforming mention of violence. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. 

Requested: no

Wordcount: 2835

Prologue

“There we go!”, she said with a smile, as she watched Emma step back from the fireplace. 

“It’s so pretty, Mummy!”, she exclaimed, clasping her little hands over her face in adoration. “Look, it’s red and green just like the wreath at the door!”

What a coincidence, (Y/N) thought that the Christmas stocking matched the decoration, but her Emma was at that age where everything was amazing, marvellous or simply glorious. Or she’d hate it with every fibre of her being. 

Christmas had truly captivated her - from decorating the house, to baking biscuits, to writing, reading and placing Christmas cards all over the house and now preparing the plate for Father Christmas and Rudolf. It almost made her sad that tomorrow morning this would come to an end. 

“Now, have we forgotten anything?”, she asked, with a deep and serious frown, which Emma mirrored at once. 

“Stockings?”

She pointed at the fireplace at once. 

“Very good - what about milk for Father Christmas?”

“And biscuits too!”

Emma had even picked the prettiest, which was half a shame since they deserved to be shared and now she’d have to eat them all by herself. 

Once more, (Y/N) nodded, but then the realisation hit her daughter. 

“We forgot the carrot for the reindeer!”

With a cry of shock and outrage, Emma shot up, running as fast as her legs could take her. She returned red cheeked, with her hair flying behind her like a banner in the wind, clutching the carrot in her hands like a trophy. 

“There!”, she said, placing it next to the biscuits at once. 

“Well done. That’s all I think.”, she said. “Time for bed!”

“Can’t we wait here for Father Christmas?”, Emma asked. “I want to wish him a good day.”

(Y/N) shook her head. 

“I don’t think so, darling. We never know when he will come, and we can’t spend all night. We’d be terribly tired and sleep through all day tomorrow, and you don’t want that, do you?”

Begrudgingly Emma agreed and took her hand as they made their way up the stairs together. 

She was already washed and changed, so all that remained was to brush and braid her hair while singing her favourite song.

“Can we have the story of the three little pigs tonight?”, Emma asked, once she was neatly tucked into bed. 

“Not tonight. Tonight’s a special night. We’ll read the Christmas story tonight.”

“But we already read it at church today. And they’ll read it again at church tomorrow!”, she complained. 

It was difficult to argue with, but in this she didn’t budge. Emma listened all the same. 

Then she folded her hands and they said the words of their goodnight prayer together. Over the years, it had found its own rhythm, becoming almost a singsong. 

“Good night, my darling!”, she said, as she pressed a kiss to her forehead, smoothing the hair out of her face. 

“Good night!”, Emma said in a softer, sleepier voice. 

But (Y/N) didn’t get far. She had barely reached the foot of the bed, when her daughter called out to her once more.

“Mummy, does Father Christmas really come to every child in the whole wide world?”

“Yes.”, she assured her. 

“Even to the boy across the street?”

(Y/N) scoffed. 

“Well of course. He always comes to Robert and Sophie.”, 

“Not Robert and Sophie!”, she insisted, waving off the neighbours’ children. “Across the little street- the one behind the kitchen.”

Calling that a street was generous indeed. It was a small gap between houses that was barely large enough for two carts to fit inside. Not that there would be any way out for them. 

The back of their house was right next to the back of the house on the other street, with a small and narrow gap that allowed every second house some air. Some council law, which had been long overturned had granted them this little privilege, which brought a bit more light. In Small Heath, that was a blessing. 

From Emma’s window, one could see right across to the house on Watery Lane. 

“Darling, no one lives there. No one has for years.”, she assured her. 

All the Shelbys had moved out of Small Heath, if not out of Birmingham long ago, as quickly as they should - the way anyone would if they had half a brain. 

Of the siblings, Ada had been the first to go- loud, reckless Ada who had never been afraid of anything, even at school. She also hadn’t been afraid to marry a communist and move to London. It seemed that communists weren’t all that strict with money, because she apparently had such a large house, she needed a maid to keep it in order. Or so she had heard from some women in the bath house. 

John and his wife and their ever expanding host of children had long bought a house in the country, and Arthur had followed soon after. And Thomas of course, lived in a house as big as a palace, somewhere in the green. 

The only Shelby to still live in the city was Finn, who, with his cousin, lived in the best part of the city, far away from the smoke. 

But just because they all left, didn’t mean they took their shadow with them. Once, it had only engulfed Small Heath but by now it was large enough to touch every part of the city. There was no way around the Peaky Blinders. 

“So Father Christmas won’t find him?”, Emma asked, wide eyed, as if the prospect caused her little heart to shatter. 

“I am sure that if there is a boy, he will get his presents.”, she soothed. 

Emma still didn’t look entirely convinced, but after another kiss, she settled. 

Once downstairs, she filled Emma’s stocking with sweets and biscuits, clementines, nuts, new socks, a dress, some coloured pencils she had held on to for months and a story book of fairy tales. When money was tight, and money was always tight, one had to buy presents early, whenever there had been a little to spare. She was only glad that Emma hadn’t found any of them yet. She was such a witty, curious girl, who only ever grew smarter by the day. Soon she’d be difficult to keep up with and to keep secrets from, but for now she was only her little girl, and she wouldn’t notice these things just yet. 

~

No parent, in history, ever got to sleep in on Christmas Morning, and nor did Y/N Hale, who was woken just short of six a.m. by excited cries of “Mummy, Mummy, Father Christmas came! He came!” followed by a little human jumping up and down on her bed with excitement, before grabbing her and pulling her downstairs. 

It had been a haze after that, of giddiness and excitement. And then a hassle, because they were so late, they almost arrived too late for the service. She had to call Emma thrice before she left the back window, proclaiming with ministerial certainty that she had to say goodbye to her “friend”, the boy in the window. 

Only at the Church Christmas Tea did (Y/N) have time to breathe. Originally it had been started during the war. Too many people felt alone during those originally festive days without their husbands or brothers, fathers or sons. As it turned out, a combination of individual grief and loneliness could create a companionship of sorts. 

After the war, they kept it up because there were too many families with aching gaps, who would rather come here for a few hours than stare at the empty chairs. It was also a kindness to the many injured veterans who had no one left to turn to. They had just kept it going, and (Y/N) and Emma always went. 

It was the usual suspects. Mr. and Mrs. Morrison had lost their only boy and of Mr. Leeming’s four only one came back. Mrs Richards was a kind woman with a round face who had been old since before (Y/N) could remember, but she was a school teacher, and later volunteered to watch the children who had to stay longer because their parents worked in the factories. The loss of so many men she had known since they were boys had taken away her laughter, but not her good heart. Even now, the children still liked her, but there was something in her eyes when she looked at the boys which sent shivers down (Y/N)’s spine. The children were too oblivious and too distracted by the lemon sherbets in her pockets to notice of course. 

Mr. Perth had lost a leg to the king’s ambition and Mr. Graham his sight. The Dudley brothers were particularly worthy of pity - all three of them returned from across the sea only to see their parents and younger sisters waste away from the Spanish Flu. 

It was always the same faces. 

A sorry lot we are indeed, she thought, but that was what Small Heath was. A sorry lot, who made do best they could. 

And sometimes the best they could do was huddle together on Christmas Day for one nice warm cup of tea and some biscuits and cake. 

(Y/N) volunteered at the church whenever she could and so these rooms were neither strange nor haunting to Emma, nor a lot of the other children. 

They enjoyed the cake, the sweets and most importantly the fact that their parents were a little more lenient than usual and so they ran circles around the Christmas tree they had decorated with the same ribbons as every year. 

“It’s good to see Emma so happy.”, Mrs Cook said with a smile. “I remember it being difficult this time of year. Especially at first.”

(Y/N) nodded, watching Emma taking over the role of ring leader as the children began to play a game of cards. 

Mrs. Cook had fifteen years on her, and her own weight to carry, not unlike the one she bore. The South African war had taken her husband. She owned the tailors (Y/N) found some work in. It wasn’t as fancy as the Chinese ones, but enough for the folks down here and she was never shy of teaching her a thing or two. 

“It’s the second for us.”, (Y/N) said with a heavy sigh. “I suppose that’s an improvement.”

Mrs Cook gave her arm a squeeze. 

“I know it sounds harsh now, but be glad Emma is so young. Younger hearts heal easier. And she doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

(Y/N) scoffed. She had a long list of the things Emma was missing. 

Her father’s hugs, the booming sound of his laughter, the way he could carve toys out of nothing but plain wood and imitate bird sounds to perfection. She missed out on a childhood on a farm, on chickens, on fruit trees and green grass. She missed out on siblings, on fresh air and on the person (Y/N) had once been. 

“I am trying my best, but…”

She shook her head. 

“Emma is her father’s daughter, smart and brave and I am none of these things. Soon enough she’ll get bored of me.”

And it was a dangerous thing to get bored in a place like this, especially for a girl. 

“Sometimes I think it’s already happening.”

“Why would you say that?”, Mrs. Cook asked. 

“Currently, she has an imaginary friend.”, (Y/N) said. “I try to keep her busy, but apparently it’s not enough. Perhaps she is lonely?”

The older woman smiled, the soft wrinkles around her eyes deepening. 

“Oh my dear, don’t you worry. Your Emma is just fine. She’s a young girl with a great imagination.”

She shook her head. 

“And lonely? Emma could befriend a tree- just wait until she gets to school. She’ll be gobbling up all the books in the library, I bet.”

I hope. 

That was another reason why (Y/N) was so keen on involving herself with the church. A possible future reference from the priest could be worth more than gold, a recommendation maybe, perhaps even a scholarship. Opportunities were limited in a place like this, and she so wanted the best for her little girl. 

It was the reason she had learned how to speak properly, so that one wouldn’t hear a word out of Emma’s mouth and know she was from Small Heath- that worked with medium success. But talking to Mrs. Cook made her heart feel a little lighter. 

It was nearly two by the time they got home from the church. 

“I’m just going to heat up some soup, yes?”, she asked. After a Christmas dinner and all those treats not just on Christmas morning but also at the Church tea, she wondered if Emma would even be able to finish both a bowl and a slice of bread. 

It always surprised her how much people were able to muster up for the children - little sweets, biscuits, oranges, nuts - most people brought something, even if it was just something little just to brighten up the youngster’s days. And of course the parents had little chance of taking it away before it found their way to their mouths.

Emma nodded almost impatiently, staring out of the window again. It had snowed slightly. 

“Do you want to go outside?”, she asked, glancing at the thin white sheet. 

“Oh yes, Mummy, please!”, she said. 

“Well go on then.”

It was as if the factorie’s fire and heat found its way into the earth as it could snow as much as it liked, but it would all melt away within hours. Nothing good or pretty ever lasted long in Small Heath. 

If Emma played in the small enclosure between their house and the houses on Watery Lane, she wouldn’t be at risk to get hit by a car or get into trouble - and she could get back into the kitchen whenever she liked, never really out of sight. 

And so (Y/N) saw it at once, when Emma was balancing a plate of two clementines, some biscuits, a few slices of ham, a piece of bread and a block of cheese thick as her thumb on her gloved hands. 

“What are you doing?”, she demanded to know, putting down the wooden spoon she had used to stir the soup with. 

“He said he was hungry.”, she declared firmly. “You don’t mind me putting it out there for him?"

The boy from the window again. 

(Y/N) was fine playing along, but there had to be limits. 

“I do mind!”, she said. “If you leave food out there, we will have rats in no time and didn’t we just have a good night story about rats? Where do you think we’ll get a Nutcracker Prince to fight them off? I’ll have to do it all on my own.”

That made Emma frown, but her eyes soon went back to the window. 

“Well if I can’t leave it out, can he come here?”

Before she could argue, Emma tried again. 

“Please, Mummy, please. He’ll be ever so good and he won’t make a mess and he won’t be noisy either.”

If your imaginary friend was loud and made a mess I’d call a priest, she thought. 

“He’s so quiet, like a little mouse.”, Emma giggled. 

I was called a mouse once, she remembered, and nodded, as she took the plate from her hands. 

That had been a lifetime ago. But it was good to be a mouse in this place - quiet, easily hidden and unnoticed. Until she had been noticed, and swept off her feet into a better, calmer life away from the city, in a small cottage on a farm. That dream had lasted three years, before an accident had made her a widow and their barely two year old little girl an orphan, sending her right back into this place. 

“Fine. Your friend can come.”, she agreed to humour her. 

It wasn’t like he’d eat them out of house and home. 

(Y/N) poured the soup into a porcelain bowl and reached for the oven gloves.

“Emma?”, she called out. “Come now!”

“We’re already here, Mummy.”, she heard from right behind her, followed by an excited giggle. 

She turned and cried out, as the bowl of hot soup almost slipped from her grasp.

Still, she flinched so hard, some of it splashed over the edges. The gloves soaked up the most part, but some drops still hit her arms, burning her skin. 

But that was the least of her problems, she realised, as she stared into a pair of bright blue eyes.

End of Prologue

~

Here is the continuation in: [Part 1]

Thank you very much for reading. I'd be very welcome for feedback of any kind.

If you are interested in more, here is my [Masterlist] and the [Series Masterlist]

Taglist: 

@lilyrachelcassidy

#Peaky Blinders #Tommy Shelby #Thomas Shelby #Thomas Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby Imagine #Thomas Shelby Imagine #The Boy in the Window #valentineswritings

[ivystoryweaver]

Rules: pick a song for each letter of your URL and tag that many people.

thanks @romanarose!

I - Ivy - Taylor Swift V - Vienna - Billy Joel Y - Yakety Yak - The Coasters S - Shrike - Hozier T - Telescope - Mindy Smith O - O Little Town of Bethlehem - Nat King Cole R - Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree - Brenda Lee Y - You Ain't Goin' Nowhere - Oscar Isaac W - Wish List - Canyon City E - Eight Nights - Rosi Golan A - Andrew - M Field V - Viva La Vida - Coldplay E - Easier Said Than Done - Dreamer Boy R - Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer - Gene Autry

npt: @hon3yboy @missdictatorme @virtie333 @campingwiththecharmings @winniethewife

@juneknight @angel-of-the-moons @soft-girl-musings @ladywynne @runa-falls

@my-secret-shame @dowbastan @melodygatesauthor @guruan

#tag games #thanks for tagging me

[defiledtomb]

Mild Spice for you: Assuming that everyone's got a perceivable body (Looking at you, Id), how noticeable is it when each RO blushes?

:>

Sene/Selene would be most prominent, with their pearly, near sheer skin. A blush would sit like petals of cherry blossoms on their nose, and ears, and chest. With blushing, that rush of blood, would come the sprouts if sweetpea that pop up over their collarbones and brows. So not an easy blush to hide! (S hates it vehemently, that it happens so often, especially around the hunter)

Auryn would have this peachy glow that settles over the band beneath their eyes and nose, but it would be scantly noticeable due to the hue of their bronze skin. They rarely blush, but the glow is more noticeable when they work up a sweat, training, or otherwise. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Yor/Yana has cool taupe skin that shows blushes more in the warmth it suffuses their face with; their eyes go a bit glossy, their nose and cheeks darkening with a shade of plum. It does not happen often.

Idren/Ida used to have pale skin that refused to be tanned, and any time they'd spend time in the sun they'd sport the same shades as their blush, an angry, glowing red that wrapped around from ear to ear, their nose a source of amusement for their team; they teased Id with songs about Rudolf the reindeer(or it's equivalent in Ouro).

Preset L had creamy skin that absorbed the sun well, leaving freckles in its wake. Their blush would wash over their face like a pink sheet, leaving them looking like a ripe strawberry.

#ouroboros-if #interactive fiction #RO facts #i dont think this warrants the spice tag tbh #but dang it was fun to think about their skintones so thanks for the ask :D

[brainless-moe-white-lotus]

We don't remark enough on how truly dogshit awful the persistence of "Rudolf the rednosed reindeer" is as a holiday song. Why do we tolerate this?

[yabusame-houlen-official]

got tagged by @magicalmelancholy-blog1 so

Last Song: I put this piano cover of "Noble Green Cinderella" from Touhou Hollow Song of Birds on to do this so I guess that, oop- (if that doesn't count since that was BG noise I put on to type this up, then last night the last thing I listened to was "Youkai Space Travel" from Touhou Silent Sinner in Blue's CD)

Favorite Color: Blue (and pink!)

Last Movie/TV Show: Uhhh I don't really watch movies/TV anymore but last night I lucked out by "Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer" being on TV and my mom watching it as tradition

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Yes™

Last Thing I Googled: trademark symbol

Current Obsession: Passer Montanus (Eurasian Tree Sparrow), and as always, Yabusame Houlen

im not very good with tagging people so uhh @chugsyourteeth, @yukarinuniversaltraveler @ass-blasting-bitchaloid @fryshrimp (sorry to anyone who might feel excluded im bad at thiiiisss :sob:)

#blirby.txt

[least-sexy-man-competition]

jesus fucking christ i HATE the 'Santa only cares about rudolf for his usefulness' shit. HE REDIRECTED THE BIRTH DEFECT INTO SOMETHING HE COULD BE PROUD OF. DO YALL REALLY THINK SANTA JUST GOES "AH DAMN SHIT FUCK THERES FOG OUTSIDE GUESS CHRISTMAS IS CANCELED"????? NO HE SAW RUDOLF GETTING BULLIED AND WENT "OH DAMN, UHHH WE NEED UR NOSE TO GUIDE THE WAY :)" SO, I QUOTE THE FUCKING SONG, 'ALL OF THE REINDEER (WOULD) LOVE HIM'. HE DID IT SO THAT THE OTHER REINDEER WOULD SEE THE NOSE AS SOMETHING GOOD INSTEAD OF BULLYING HIM OVER IT.

WHAT NEXT??? THE BAA BAA BLACK SHEEP IS NAKED AND STARVING BC THEYRE COMPULSIVELY GIVING AWAY WOOL???? DO YALL THINK THE WOLF IN LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD WAS ACTUALLY JUST A GUEST IN GRANDMA'S HOUSE AND RIDING HOOD MURDERED HIM?????? SMH MY HEAD YALL ARE FOOLS.

I've never seen Santa discourse and I have to admit I'm intrigued. Keep it up everypony

#least sexy man #ask #santa claus #propaganda

[loislaina]

what if there was a reindeer named olive and their pronouns were they/them and they were literally the only one bullying rudolf for being different and that entire song was just a big misunderstanding

#i mean i know there's a movie about olive the other reindeer #but im pretty sure her pronouns were she/her #anyway #olive the other reindeer #nonbinary #enby #christmas #shitpost

[xmassongtournament]

Round 2 Bracket

You're A Mean One Mr Grinch vs What Child Is This Anyway? One More Sleep Til Christmas vs Es ist ein Ros entsprungen All I Want For Christmas Is You vs White Wine in the Sun Santa Baby vs Santa's Beard CryptoSanta vs SAD Frosty the Snowman vs Hail Santa Aurora Boralis vs Must Be Santa Do You Hear What I Hear vs Un Flambeau, Jeanette, Isabelle The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire) vs Christmas Canon What's This vs Santa Claus Is A Black Man Oogie Boogie's Song vs Father Christmas If The Lord Were Alive Today vs Christmastime In Hell Winter Wonderland vs Let It Snow Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas vs Underneath The Tree Jingle Bell Rock vs Mary's Boy Child The First Noel vs Step Into Christmas Hark! The Herald Angels Sing vs I'll Be Home For Christmas Jingle Bells vs Australian Jingle Bells Song for Christmas Feast (Pentiment) vs All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth Christmas At Ground Zero vs Trepak (Russian Dance) Jingle Bells (Batman Smells) vs Caramelldansen Christmas I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus vs Carol of the Bells A Holly Jolly Christmas vs It Feels Like Christmas Feliz Navidad vs 12 Days Of Christmas Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy vs March of the Toy Soldiers Sleigh Ride vs Silent Night, Holy Night Grandpa's Gonna Sue The Pants Off Santa vs Oh Come All Ye Faithful Deck The Halls vs Christmas Wrapping Oh Holy Night vs Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) Last Christmas vs Fairytale of New York Santa Claus Is Coming To Town vs White Christmas Christmastime Is Here vs Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer

#christmas music #tournament #round 2 #christmas song tournament

[dynamoe]

It's Labor Day. Let's not forget the reason for the season.

I believe Scabby the Inflatable Union Rat could become the Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer of Labor Day if he only had a song.

#scabby #inflatable rat #union rat #labor rat #labor day #organized labor #labor union

[argumate]

I was never keen on Dumbo as a kid because it was sad, but particularly it called attention to exactly how sad it was both in the style and in the text, like look at how much this kid has suffered *sad music*, and then there was a deus ex machina ending and the story hastily ends while insisting everything is fine now.

I suppose it’s isomorphic to Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer (!) but that’s a relentlessly upbeat song and the fact that he’s shunned until they find him useful (and the flip side of the poisonous envy that must accomplish that discovery!) is passed over lightly on the way to the big finish.

[randomtwospirit]

Rudolf the red-nosed reindeer

Had a very different brain

and if you ever saw him

You’d see his treatment caused him much pain

all of the other reindeer

used to systematically discriminate

they never let poor rudolf

join in any human rights

then one foggy christmas eve

Santa needed something related to Rudolf’s special interest done

“Rudolf with your brain so smart

won’t you help me, you make me feel dumb”

then all the reindeer feared him

for he could actually get things done

so they euthanized poor rudolf

because he lived in Canada

Rudolf the red-nosed reindeer

You story takes place in March

Santa tried to hide eugenics

but you’ll love on in our hearts

Rudolf is Autistic in Canada - a song about my hatred for the expansion of MAID to mental health

#MAID #eugenics

[megalopolousity]

hey it’s santa! i’ve been wanting to get bookends! :)

do you have a favorite christmas song?

Hey there!

Yeah, I love singing O Holy Night because...hello, so dramatic. But there's something so fun about singing the 12 Days of Christmas with a group, mixing up all the words but still shouting about the gold rings.

I went to a Christmas drag show where the intermission was just a pianist leading carols and the 12 Days was a hit for sure. Another crowd favorite was people drunkenly adding the extras on top of Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer -"play in any reindeer games" "like monopoly" etc. I'm glad I got in some Xmas singalongs this year!

How about you, Santa?

#srs23 #secret rocker santa #anon ask #christmas #christmas songs