tw // self harm mention + scars
WOOHOOO THEYRE FINALLY DONE!! team rwby are here and real after nearly 23 hours spent on them in total 😵💫
^ versions without the text&arrows
vvv hc transcript + hcs not mentioned vvv:
Ruby
She/they/crescent
5’4
Genderfluid
Butch Lesbian
AuDHD + PTSD
goggles: ‘Goggles to protect remaining eye (+they make crescent look cool as hell)
right eye: ‘Eye scratched out by Cinder’s grimm arm’
green hairband: ‘For Penny :(‘
nose: ‘Shares nose shape, skin tone & freckles with their Dad & Yang’
upper chest: ‘scars on chest from CC’s attempted possession’
chest 1: ‘Yang bought their binder & had it customised for her (+ Blake)’
chest 2: ‘Binds their chest most of the time except from when she’s in Vacuo. Then they borrow trans tape from Blake and bind with that instead’
sash: ‘CR hooks onto the back of sash and sits diagonally across crescent’s back’
shirt and shorts: ‘Stole one of Yang’s goofy shirts & cut his cargos into shorts’
Weiss
She/her
4’11 (5’2 w/ heels)
Transfem lesbian
Asexual
OCD + PTSD
hair: ‘Hair cut shorter & she wears it down more often’
green hair tie: ‘For Penny :,)’
nose: ‘Shares nose shape with her brother + got her beauty mark from her mother who has one in the same place (TO ME!!)’
face: ‘On E’
red bandana: ‘gift from Ruby :)’
right arm: ‘Heavily scarred arms from SH & fighting grimm’
left eye: ‘Blind in this eye’
left shoulder: ‘Wears shawl to protect shoulders from the sun (burns easily)’
right side: ‘Chest scar carries over to her back & she has no feeling in the skin there — the nerves were burned away and caused permanent damage’ then off that ‘Doesn’t cope well in hot climates (Vacuo) too well because of this’
myrtenaster: ‘Has a strict routine she keeps with maintaining Myrtenaster and if she doesn’t do it, it’ll send her into a spiral’
Blake
She/they
5’7
Non-binary bisexual
Autistic + PTSD
ears: ‘Gold jewellery like her mum’s’
right eye: ‘Eyes shine in the dark due to faunus night vision’
left eye: ‘More prominent faunus facial features (slit pupils, fangs, nose, etc.)
hood: ‘Hood has cat ear shaped pockets that unzip so she can choose whether to have her ears out or covered’
chest: ‘wearing trans tape under crop top’
left bicep: ‘Has big, strong arm & shoulder muscles from throwing Yang around with Gambol, but a softer tummy cause she’s healing from all the bad habits they picked up in the WF’
orange scarf: ‘Wears orange scarf to mirror where Yang’s arm ends and where metal begins’
tummy: ‘happy trail and STRETCH MARKS!!!”
shoulder+elbow: ‘More furry like their Dad’
forearm: ‘Scars from WF training, SH & grimm’
waist straps: ‘Yang uses these to pull her in for a kiss all the time :)’
chaps: ‘chaps + cowboy boots = sapphic devastation’
tummy scar: ‘The scar on her hip is the only one that still looks fairly gruesome, and the only one that burns and stings even long after the initial injury is healed. She thinks it’s because technically she was stabbed there twice, even if the second time she managed to use her semblance to get away.’
Yang
She/he
6’0
Butch lesbian
AuDHD + PTSD
nose: ‘Got his nose scar while fighting a jabber walker’
eye: ‘Eyes have specs of crimson in them even when his semblance isn’t active’
ear: ‘Shares skin tone, nose and hair with his dad’
facial hair: ‘On T’
left bicep: wears scarf on left bicep to mirror Blake’
arm,legs,tummy,chest: ‘HAIRY!!! :D’
leg: ‘Heavily scarred from SH, grimm and bar fights’
shorts: ‘Can sew and likes to decorate his trousers/shorts with patches & pins. He also likes to sew things for his team (he’s the reason they all have the team colours somewhere on their outfits)’
chest 1: ‘Scar across chest from Neo’s blade’
chest 2: ‘Got top surgery at some point in Vacuo (he likes to joke around and say that her semblance blew his tits off).
HCS NOT PUT HERE (i forgor):
Ruby:
•takes tips and advice from Yang on how to dress but mainly just throws clothes on and hopes for the best. she hasn’t quite got the hang of things looking… cohesive… yet.
•strong arms from swinging CR around.
Weiss:
•Was quite slender, but began gaining a bit of weight once she got back to Remnant. Starting to heal :,).
Blake:
•has chronic pain that stems from her tummy scar and radiates up her spine. Overworking, stress & the cold cause most flare-ups.
Yang:
•has a collection of goofy shirts (That ruby always steals from).
•has weapons hidden in her prosthetic arm in case he’s ever out of dust or in a bind.
•still experiences phantom pain in his stump and pain from some of the scars he’s acquired over the course of the war.
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The World's Forests Are Doing Much Better Than We Think
You might be surprised to discover... that many of the world’s woodlands are in a surprisingly good condition. The destruction of tropical forests gets so much (justified) attention that we’re at risk of missing how much progress we’re making in cooler climates.
That’s a mistake. The slow recovery of temperate and polar forests won’t be enough to offset global warming, without radical reductions in carbon emissions. Even so, it’s evidence that we’re capable of reversing the damage from the oldest form of human-induced climate change — and can do the same again.
Take England. Forest coverage now is greater than at any time since the Black Death nearly 700 years ago, with some 1.33 million hectares of the country covered in woodlands. The UK as a whole has nearly three times as much forest as it did at the start of the 20th century.
That’s not by a long way the most impressive performance. China’s forests have increased by about 607,000 square kilometers since 1992, a region the size of Ukraine. The European Union has added an area equivalent to Cambodia to its woodlands, while the US and India have together planted forests that would cover Bangladesh in an unbroken canopy of leaves.
Logging in the tropics means that the world as a whole is still losing trees. Brazil alone removed enough woodland since 1992 to counteract all the growth in China, the EU and US put together. Even so, the planet’s forests as a whole may no longer be contributing to the warming of the planet. On net, they probably sucked about 200 million metric tons of carbon dioxide from the atmosphere each year between 2011 and 2020, according to a 2021 study. The CO2 taken up by trees narrowly exceeded the amount released by deforestation. That’s a drop in the ocean next to the 53.8 billion tons of greenhouse gases emitted in 2022 — but it’s a sign that not every climate indicator is pointing toward doom...
More than a quarter of Japan is covered with planted forests that in many cases are so old they’re barely recognized as such. Forest cover reached its lowest extent during World War II, when trees were felled by the million to provide fuel for a resource-poor nation’s war machine. Akita prefecture in the north of Honshu island was so denuded in the early 19th century that it needed to import firewood. These days, its lush woodlands are a major draw for tourists.
It’s a similar picture in Scandinavia and Central Europe, where the spread of forests onto unproductive agricultural land, combined with the decline of wood-based industries and better management of remaining stands, has resulted in extensive regrowth since the mid-20th century. Forests cover about 15% of Denmark, compared to 2% to 3% at the start of the 19th century.
Even tropical deforestation has slowed drastically since the 1990s, possibly because the rise of plantation timber is cutting the need to clear primary forests. Still, political incentives to turn a blind eye to logging, combined with historically high prices for products grown and mined on cleared tropical woodlands such as soybeans, palm oil and nickel, mean that recent gains are fragile.
There’s no cause for complacency in any of this. The carbon benefits from forests aren’t sufficient to offset more than a sliver of our greenhouse pollution. The idea that they’ll be sufficient to cancel out gross emissions and get the world to net zero by the middle of this century depends on extraordinarily optimistic assumptions on both sides of the equation.
Still, we should celebrate our success in slowing a pattern of human deforestation that’s been going on for nearly 100,000 years. Nothing about the damage we do to our planet is inevitable. With effort, it may even be reversible.
-via Bloomburg, January 28, 2024
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Can we please please please get some more Simon x single mother au? Possibly him helping in the garden/ keeping emmaline out of trouble while Mom works in the garden
Light on - single mom/neighbor fic
Simon Riley/female reader
18+ mdni / mild sexual content
“Ow! fuck!”
Your hand jerks, drawing back to your mouth with a hiss.
“What is it?” He forces himself still, staring daggers at where the tip of your finger has started to leak blood, a thick drop dripping down the side before you bring it to your mouth, lush lips wrapping around your injury. “Are you alright?” His tone is tightly controlled, even keeled, nonchalant, but on the inside, worry gnaws away at his stomach, chewing through the organ until it’s spilling free and running rampant through his body.
“There’s a piece of glass in here.” In the garden bed? “Some of the other tenants, hang around up here at night. They usually leave bottles or cans behind.” The worry turns to anger, a simple plan slowly taking shape in his mind, a strategy to find the rooftop partiers, and ensure they never leave glass in your garden again.
Emmaline cries, nose and brows wrinkled in irritation, and you turn to coo at her, finger still half in your mouth.
“It’s okay, little pea. Just give me a second.” She continues to fuss, and you sigh, wilting like one of your own little flowers, left too long in the sun without water. You blink, and it’s like you’ve shed your sunlit skin for an exhausted shell. Oh, sweetheart. I know it’s hard, but you don’t have to do it on your own anymore.
I’m here now.
“Can I?” He asks softly, warming at how your face lights with relief.
“Yes, please.” You point to the bottle that’s tucked in the side of the backpack, and he unbuckles her from the bouncer that you lugged up the four flights of stairs earlier, even though he had texted you an hour before and politely suggested you wait for him to be finished his phone call, so he could help you.
You went up anyway, much to his displeasure. Displeasure, that he had to swallow, permanently.
You’re not his. Not yet. He can’t be disappointed by resistance or refusal when you don’t even know all the ways he can be there for you yet. He knows you’ll learn. You’re a smart girl. His smart girl.
Emmaline lays nestled in the crook of his elbow, slightly elevated on her back, and he pops the cap of the bottle easily, rubbing his index finger against her cheek to trigger the reflex that will open her mouth. When it does, he keeps it at the right angle to ensure the formula doesn’t flow too fast into her belly.
“You’ve done this before.” You murmur, reaching into the backpack for a band aid. You’re studying him, tracing over his face, his hands that are nearly the size of your baby, and he can feel the scrutiny, the curious intensity of your gaze.
“Had a nephew. I was around a lot, when he was this age.” He had a brother too. And a mother. A sister-in-law. A family.
Emmaline gurgles around the nipple, and he slips it free, sitting her mostly upright, giving her a gentle pat on the back amid her protestations, little grunts that he’s sure she means as ‘feed me’ and ‘more’. He waits for you to ask him the dreaded questions, the focus on the word had, the inevitable conversation about loss and family and pain, guilt and grief that can make a man feel like he’s been buried alive.
You don’t.
Instead, you simply say,
“Emmaline had a dad once, too.”
It’s nearly 2100 when you knock on his door later, baby monitor in one hand, two amber colored bottles in another.
“Hey. You busy?” His heart does a double tap inside his chest. Bad timing, the worst. Your sweet mouth is slightly open, hopeful, teeth parted just barely to reveal a flash of tongue, and his jaw clenches against the wild need that catapults through his veins to his cock. What do you taste like? What do you feel like? You motion to the monitor. “Just went down. Figure I have about an hour before I pass out myself and could use some adult time.” Shit. The duffel bag next to the door practically speaks for him, irritatingly reminding him he has a plane to catch in less than two hours.
“I can’t, I’m about to head out.” Your brow furrows, confusion churning into understanding within a moment, disappointment flickering across your expression before it smooths out.
“Right. Okay.”
“I want to.” He hurries the words. “But I travel… for work and I have to be on a flight in a few hours.” You’re already half turning away, slinking off to your apartment, giving him a soft agreement as you go.
“Sure, yeah.”
“Wait, sweetheart,” You startle at the pet name, eyes going wide at the inferred affection. “when I get back, let’s… have a drink.” You nod, and he smiles a real smile, barely tugging his lips upward, probably hardly visible to you. The kind of smile he’s been wearing around you these past two weeks, the kind of smile he tries to give Emmaline when she stares at him.
“Alright, sounds good then.” Your key finds your lock, and he steps out into the hallway, trapping your gaze with his own.
“You girls be good.” He says, a parting instruction, and a bashful, bewildered smile of your own curves across your mouth.
“We will.”
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