I just found out what happened: rest in peace to Squidkid1111, a Black cosplayer who brought so much creativity and joy through their work, but was tragically taken from this world because of antiblackness in the community.
This is what we’ve been saying all along:
The fandom is too white‑centric.
There is a blatant double standard.
Black fans and creators are mocked, mistreated, and have their work undermined.
When we build our own spaces more stricter, you act surprised instead of reflecting on why we had to.
Squidkid1111 was a bright spark in the cosplay community, celebrated for their artistry, humor, and dedication to their craft. Yet they faced relentless racist harassment by others by being told their skin tone didn’t “match” the characters they portrayed. This kind of cruelty is not isolated; it is part of a larger pattern of antiblackness that continues to poison fandom spaces relentlessly that we been saying all along..
None of you (White and Non-Black POC) have proven yourselves to be trustworthy or good people in fandom and otherwise, and this heartbreaking loss makes that undeniable.
Let their soul rest in peace and soar high 🕊️
They never deserved any of this..... I'm so sorry they did this to you..
Wishing Astaroth a very happy 10th Gotcha Day over the Rainbow Bridge today.
I'm so heartbroken that neither he nor Evie got to celebrate this milestone with us. A decade is a long time, I just wish they'd been able to spend a full one with me.
Ten years ago today, we welcomed this little demon potato floof home - and ten years later, he may not be on Earth anymore, but he's still my baby boy. He'll always be my baby.
Memorial Post: Rowan (Halloween 2015 - Feb. 28, 2026)
Our beloved floofy bun, Rowan, passed away a week ago. He was ten years and four months old (the average lifespan of pet bunnies I saw quoted some places is 2-4 years, and 10 years is the expected upper limit for his type of bun) and was healthy, cheerful, friendly, and sweet his whole life; he died very suddenly at home, apparently of old age. I miss him - he was always more friendly and cuddly than Japp - but I'm glad he had a long, happy life.
He was also more bonded to Japp than Japp was to him: Rowan kind of wanted to be friends all along and spent a lot of his free time hanging out near or right up against Japp's cage, grooming or snuggling through the bars. (But as soon as they were both let out Japp would start bullying him instead.) If Japp had died first, I would have worried a lot more about Rowan becoming lonely; Japp has always been more independent, and he's been less active than Rowan in recent years, too. (He naps most of the day and seems more potentially senile.)
Rowan was almost twice as big as Japp even though they're littermates - he was pushing the upper boundary of a dwarf rabbit, weighing about 2.4 kg most of his life. He had a round little belly under all the floof, although about 70% of his volume was wool so luxuriant and long and shiny that he was frequently almost spherical. He was more friendly and affectionate than Japp - he would come up to greet the people and cats in the room, beg for treats, do little binks, or just cock his head before bustling away on bunny business. And he liked being groomed gently, as long as you didn't try to groom his chest or chin or hindquarters (which always deeply offends both bunnies). Japp doesn't dislike grooming, but Rowan would relax and make happy little bunny purrs for much longer.
He was a much more timid and cautious bunny than Japp, though. Even when they were babies, he watched Japp jumping in and out of the baby cage they shared for two days before he was brave enough to make that jump himself (we picked him up and put him on the floor the first few times). He frequently relied on Japp exploring new territory first, whether that was climbing up on top of cardboard boxes or venturing on the rug out into the hallway.
He was also much more afraid of strange people and of heights (or rather of being picked up without something solid under him - he wasn't afraid, for instance, of being held or carried inside a little basket or box). That's unfortunate because visitors and children always wanted to pet and hug him, but his fear of new people and being picked up typically meant he didn't enjoy it. (Our youngest niece, now ten years old, who is absolutely obsessed with animals of all kinds, is the only visitor who's ever lured him over to sit on her lap on the floor voluntarily. She did this by basically spending every possible moment of their visit sitting nearby and watching the bunnies very calmly, and intermittently offering them treats.)
Japp has had three health scares in his lifetime, but Rowan, on the other hand, only had to go to the vet to be fixed and to be vaccinated, and never had a moment of ill health. He was industriously shredding cardboard, begging for treats, zooming around the room, and exploring under the woodstove until the day before his death. I often called Rowan my sweet beige boy who'd never done anything wrong in his life, which was not strictly true, because he has eaten part of the wall a few times, including the wallpaper in my MIL's old apartment after it was sold - but in his defense, he probably doesn't know the difference between the wall and any other piece of rippable cardboard. He was never mean and always just wanted to be friends.
rest in peace to Mona Khalil, a 76 year old woman who dedicated her life to protecting sea turtles, and was killed by an Israeli air strike in Lebanon.
The tragic loss of someone who truly wanted to spread positivity and a helpful hand will weigh heavy on our hearts, they may be gone but they will not be forgotten.
They always had good intentions in their heart, and even though they were not perfect, they always took criticism seriously and tried their best to be understanding. They truly did their best to express themselves and help others express themselves.
Let us all honor them and remember them. Let us lend helpful hands to each other in the way that they tried to lend their hands to us.
Back in 2024, shortly after announcing Child of the Dragon, my grandpa asked when it would come out. I proudly explained it would be early 2026, and how publishing is kind of slow, but it's coming. He jokingly said "2026?! I'm not even going to be alive by then!" and I then told him "oh, suck it up, it's not that far, you'll be fine."
My book comes out next week.
He passed away yesterday.
I gave him a very stern talking to on Thursday and told him he better not prove me wrong about that convo, and to wait just a little longer for me.
I told him on Friday I would be okay if he goes before then. That he doesn't have to wait for me.
I asked him on Saturday to not wait for me anymore.
I think he still tried to wait for me.
I don't know if he would even like my book, but he cared about everything I was interested in. He was always one of my biggest cheerleaders. He went to so many games and competitions growing up. He was at every graduation from elementary school through my master's degree.
I have so many incredible memories with him. He had a stroke a few years ago and we somehow ended up with the same physical therapist for a few weeks, so we'd try to schedule appointments together and carpool with my aunt. I used to bring my friends over to his house in high school. I once brought my entire elementary school class to his house so we could use his telescope during our astronomy unit. He randomly facetimed me a few weeks ago at 9:30 at night just to show me an aurora tracking app he likes because he knows I love the stars--a love I have because of him. There's an eclipse this morning at 4am. I think it's going to be cloudy, but I'm setting every alarm so I can try to watch for it for him.
I don't really know what to do right now. I'm so heartbroken. I miss him so so much
When I was five years old, my aunt gave me a cat. The most gorgeous lilac point Siamese I've ever seen. There had been other pets in the house before her, but I was too young to remember them and they weren't mine. This cat was the first pet that was mine.
I was a reckless child. I was not as gentle with her as I should have been, but I was an excited little kid. I played with her too rough, I hauled her around in my arms, I shoved her into doll clothes. I probably hurt her without even knowing. Despite all that, she wasn't scared of me. She was the most patient cat I've ever known.
We grew up together. I learned to be gentle with her. She loved any toy with feathers and used to steal my feathered dress up scarves. She'd lay on my chest while I watched movies. She always showed up when I was cooking frozen pizza because I'd give her tiny pieces of the frozen cheese. She'd sit with me when I cried, put a paw on my arm and meow softly as if saying "I'm here."
She was very social and would always hang out in the room when company was over, sitting next to whoever would pet her. She'd sit on the porch and doze in the sun.
I used to worry, because of how our ages lined up, that she'd pass away while I was away at college and I wouldn't be there for her.
When I was seventeen, she looked ill. We took her to the vet. Less than a week later I said goodbye to my best friend.
It was kidney failure, very common in cats. I spent her last night staying up with her, sitting by her side. She died early in the morning, with her paw in my hand. It was the first time I had experienced the loss of a life.
Six years ago today, my beautiful, sweet girl, crossed the rainbow bridge. A few weeks before her fourteenth birthday.
A lot of difficult things have happened since then. My life has not played out how I expected, I could have used her comfort.
I do not get along with the aunt who gave her to me, she's a toxic family member I've cut ties with. But I will forever be grateful for that sickly little kitten she sent me over a plane from the US, where she lived at the time. That sweet girl got me through so much, and even though she's been gone for years now, I'd like to think her spirit is still watching over me, somewhere across the rainbow bridge.
If you've ever lost a pet, just know you're not alone in your sadness. And your furry friend is always with you in the paw prints they left on your heart.
