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but it's an entirely new level of tragic when somebody you've actually spoken to gets turned into a bot account. it's like peeking at a zombie apocalypse through the window and realizing one of the shambling corpses was your friend.

and then the zombie catches sight of you, lurches up to your window, and shouts through the glass that they accidentally reported your account to tumblr and you'll be deactivated unless you click this link.

if you get something like this ↑ they're gonna follow up by instructing you to contact tumblr support on discord and give you contact info; or they're gonna link a website that looks sort of like tumblr support and say you have to email them; or any variety of "you must now contact tumblr, here is how you contact tumblr."

whatever they send you, it Does Not lead to tumblr. it leads to the master zombie that bit them and inducted them into the ranks of the undead, and will bite you the second they have your email and password. i might be confusing zombies and vampires. anyway,

it's easier to fall for these messages because the blog doesn't LOOK like a bot blog, because it ISN'T a bot blog. it's a normal person's blog that got accessed by a bot, meaning the blog's content CLEARLY looks like a real active user when you click on it. and yes—it might even be a blog you already know. sometimes bots like this go down a blog's DMs or reblogs and message people they've previously interacted with.

Mira of course claims to not care about being her daughter’s first word. She doesn’t, really, but she’s the one who’s reading their daughter stories every night, and sounding out words at the grocery story, and talking to their infant like she’s a grown adult, not a babbling little girl who thinks it’s hilarious every time Mira hands her a piece of produce to place in the basket.

Their daughter is pretty slow to talking, though. Zoey’s not sure where that came from but she knows damn well it’s not from her. But that’s fine, their girl will take the world at her own pace.

Until, of course, Mira has to leave for a photoshoot for the day.

Mira: I left food in the fridge. For you guys and for her. She’ll eat the peaches but only if it’s on the blue spoon and she’ll take these really small bites-

Zoey: *giggling* we know, babe. It’s our kid too.

Mira: and I’ll call at lunch. If this director makes me stay late I’m gonna kick his ass-

Rumi: *leans in and pecks Mira on the lips* -we got it, jagiya. Have a great day, Mir <3

Mira: *visibly relaxing a little, then leaning down to kiss the baby’s forehead* I’ll see all three of you later. I love you <3

Baby: *fussing and squirming in Rumis arms, getting Big Mad that Mira isn’t picking her up*

Mira: *visibly losing her nerve to leave* wait, just one more kiss-

Baby: *begins to cry*

Zoey: *rushing Mira towards the door* babe, go right now or you’re not making that call time-

Mira: *hesitating and looking agonized* okay. Okay, let me just-

Baby: *wailing* Eommaaaa! Nooo!!!

Polytrix: *stopping dead in their tracks*

Mira: *tearing up, immediately scooping the baby out of Rumi’s arms* oh, my girl, I’m here-

Rumi and Zoey: *also tearing up, but sharing a fist bump behind Mira’s back where she can’t see it*

Rumi: wait, Mir, your photoshoot-

Mira: *snuggling the baby very close, shushing her and bouncing her on her hip until she quiets down* I’m not going. I’m never leaving this apartment again. Oh my god, our baby is talking-

Rumi: and you were her first word, Mira. She was calling out for you 🥺

So today I tripped. Fell flat on my face, it was awful but ultimately harmless. My service dog, however, is trained to go get an adult if I have a seizure, and he assumed this was a seizure (were training him to do more to care for me, but we didn’t learn I had epilepsy until a year after we got him)

I went after him after I had dusten off my jeans and my ego, and I found him trying to get the attention of a very annoyed woman. She was swatting him away and telling him to go away. So I feel like I need to make this heads up

If a service dog without a person approaches you, it means the person is down and in need of help

I honestly didn’t know that I was supposed to follow a service dog in a vest if it approached me by itself.

I do now.

So do you.

Each of the lyrics comes from an old-time hickory song for fiddles, and is a lyric from that corresponding song.

"Fire on the Mountain" --> "Fire on the Mountain, run boys run"

Fire On The Mountain - Fiddle Player POV

"The House of the Rising Sun" --> "The Devil's in the house of the rising sun"

House of the Rising Sun

"Ida Red" --> "Chicken in the bread pan peckin' out dough"

Ida Red - Bob Wills & His Texas Playboys

"Granny Will Your Dog Bite" --> "Granny does your dog bite? 'No child, no'."

FTC #149 Granny Will Your Dog Bite

And for your furthered education, The Mountain Whipporwill.

in a time before things like radios and record players, every time you heard music was because there was somebody in the room with you playing an instrument. and many, many, many social events involved dancing, which requires music. so, if you're planning any kind of gathering in the american south or appalachia, you need to find a fiddler. and the fiddler's job is to play music that everybody knows and likes and can dance to.

the mistake The Devil makes in his bet with Johnny is that he misinterprets the contest as being about technical ability, so he has this big flashy song. he plays fast and impressively with a band of demons playing unfamiliar instruments in unfamiliar rhythms. he's definitely more skilled at playing than Johnny, and thinks he has it in the bag.

it took me asking three more times before she finally told me she wanted me to leave the fans where they are instead of moving them to my room or something. and I said oh! I had no intention of doing so but thank you for letting me know what the expectation is.