#200 notes

ryland grace has a bad time

ryland grace needs a hug

ryland grace is not graceful

ryland grace acts like a wet cat

ryland has one braincell

ryland grace is a leaky little space blob

ryland grace cries a lot

ryland grace is dead (sorry)

ryland grace is a theatre kid because I said so

ryland grace has low self esteem, for science!

ryland's slutty little glasses

hurt ryland grace

autistic ryland grace

adhd ryland grace

gay ryland grace

tough-starved ryland grace

tired ryland grace

sick ryland grace

hurt ryland grace

sub!ryland grace (I mention sub!ryland grace because there was not one dom!ryland grace tag in all eight pages of my scrolling. there was exactly one fic where he was an implied dom. in eight pages. 160 works)

like damn can we not give this man a break. not even a hug.

honorable mentions, including several very funny "no beta we die like _____" tags:

no beta we die like ilyukhina and yao

no beta we die like rocky's crew

no beta we die like astrophage

no beta we die like the sun

karaoke is sexy when it is Eva Stratt

allusions to the second world war

sex through spacesuits, because we all die otherwise

eventual smut, for science!

(not a tag, a note from me: yes, those last two are for exactly the ship you think they are for. they were funny)

obligatory cats the musical shirt (saw this no less than six times)

-

Your metal friend is upset. Their giant frame looms over you even as they sit balled up next to you, yet they've never looked smaller. There's something oddly human about how they sniffle into their knees. It tugs on your heart strings in a familiar way, much like how you'd feel around another human if they were crying.

You've seen other Cybertronians comfort one another after battles; but they either speak in their mother tongue or they don't speak at all, which probably means they're communicating through their EM fields or comming each other. Still, you're determined to help.

Shuffling closer, you embrace around a section of your friend's giant forearm and lean your head against the cool metal. Just like you would with a fellow human (minus the metal). Their plating shudders lightly in response and you nuzzle closer, shutting your eyes as you try to give the best hug you can right now.

Unbeknownst to you - as you have no control over it - your EM field hugs them alongside you. A powerful, vibrant wave of understanding despite not being able to communicate in half the ways Cybertronians can. Who knew so much care and compassion could be loaded into such a small, fleeting creature?

Desperate whimpers dragged from a previously silent mouth.

Aching moans that slip out, the sufferer too feverish and pained to know what’s happening.

Sullen panting spiking through the silence, in the aftermath.

Hitched breaths as someone tries to stave off panic, though they are so utterly alone.