#ELITA MY LOVEE

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

momlita

[whalesharkstho]

jazz ur gonna give him a spark attack

bit of a follow up to this post X]

[orionfrommars]

Happy Holidays from the sillies!!

[Please do not steal, trace, repost or modify my work]

[strayingsocks]

watched transformers one today!

[ihatebrainstorm]

Some TF One doodles/sketches (minor spoilers maybe? Idk if they count, nothing not seen in the trailers already)

sorta in a massive art slump rn so i'll draw more stuff when i feel like i can draw better again :')

[goosegooserevolution]

List of words banned on The Ark, starting with number one: Alarm. I really missed making silly stuff like this. I have more comic ideas lined up for autobot and decepticon shenanigans, but it'll be slow going because i foolishly dedicated so much time to coloring and backgrounds so now i must continue that trend for future comics. also this is the first full background ive ever made and im super proud of it!! it still doesnt look quite the way i want it to but im just glad i finished it <3

[0wldn0]

Can't wait for Transformers One!!! They keep me going fr...

[jubileeeeee]

the moment youre surrounded by friends and are overcome with looove and affectionnn and everything is right in the world and you are content~~

[newlifeflight]

Elita and her short king

[chara-55]

For those who doesnt have Twitter, I've recently found these. Please pls plss go check it out 😭

These storyboards has me in shambles

Here's the link to the storyboards

I'd like to give my thanks to Zhi Khang & the other storyboarders for sharing us these 😭✨️

[startheskelaton]

What’s Sparkplug’s dynamic with Elita-One? I love how you designed them both >_<

Oh she absolutely adores her

This was one of the first TikToks I made about them. Elita is always dying to give Optimus development… why can’t it happen the other way this time. Sparkplug has always been Elita’s baby, and Elita has always been Sparkplug’s mom.

I love my own mom, so it’s hard for me to not include a good mom that reminds me of my own

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

he needs him by his side

[dxkjf]

GUESS WHAT I GOT 🗣️🗣️🗣️ never doing this again but I had a lot of fun and I really wanna draw them now, they're silly

[gravelsong]

I actually had to stop and take a moment because. Holy shit where do I even start here

Elita's so desperate to keep Optimus on Cybertron that she'll actively sabotage his way of escape (not just his way either, Cliff is still badly wounded and he's now cut off as well). The war has been HELL on her and the planet, we've seen this every time we've seen her on Cybertron. Everyone she's ever loved is either in a constant state of survival, tortured, missing, or dead. She has gone through hell and back to keep it all together, and finally she's found Optimus again, someone who can lead them all, who knows what to do, who can help her keep it together.

But from her view, he doesn’t want to stay. He doesn't want to stay and defend his home, he wants to go back, he wants to leave. Leave behind everything they've worked for, making all of Elita's sacrifice pointless, making the deaths of all their loved ones meaningless. And not just that, but they can use what Shockwave built to save them. It's cruel and disgusts her, but sacrifices have to be made for their survival, even if it means harming another planet. But they have to use it, it has to mean something, because if not, then what was any of this for?

And Optimus, on the other end, is in pain over this choice. No leader wants to make a choice like this, but Optimus has seen what damage his people have done. The damage that his war has brought to them, how they've been killed and wounded at the hands of ones who still remain on Earth. Earth's destruction can't be at their hands, they can't force their losses onto people who never asked to be a part of this, who never had a chance at stopping the decepticons on their own. They can't kill another planet in the name of saving their own. The cycle can't continue.

Even while Elita is holding onto Optimus, screaming about how much she needs him, his other hand is spasming, the weight of what he's doing and what will come from this action very clear, but still painful. And in the end, he choses to protect Earth.

[prettypinkeel]

continuing my transformers rareships ideas with beautiful old women

[yourplaywright]

hey did someone say they want more babybee? i say as i shove someone out of the way.

i brought more…. so…. take it ig

“You’re going to get me in trouble!” Jazz hisses, picking B up. The bot dangles down like a roudy newbuild, crossed arms and pout included. Well, that makes sense, since nobody knows how old B is, though it can’t be more than 10 cycles with how underdeveloped some parts of his frame were.

“I was trying to help!” B cries, eyeridges furrowing. “How was I supposed to know that would happen?”

Jazz gestures wildly to the light fixture that, suspiciously, was now shattered and scattered on the floor. “The fact it was swinging didn’t clue you in?”

“Everyone deserves a chance!”

“It is— was— a fragging light!”

B’s shoulders slump. “‘m sorry, Jazz.”

“You should be,” he huffs, glaring at the younger bot through his visor. “Honestly, if you got hurt Elita would flip out. You aren’t, right?”

“Nope!” B gives him a thumbs up.

Jazz shakes his head, feelings simmering down. “I’m sorry for yelling, I just got stressed thinking you were hurt. Check in with Ratchet to make sure you didn’t cut yourself on any glass, alright?”

“Alright.”

—

“What do you mean you can’t find him?”

Elita levels him with a look. “You know what I mean. He’s not in Optimus’ office, he’s not trying to bother me, and Cliffjumper and Hotrod have been racing with Mirage all day.”

“Oh,” Jazz says. “Have you checked with Ratchet in the medbay?”

“Why would B be in the medbay?!”

Jazz raises his servos. “Hey, hey, calm down Dad. I told him to check in with Ratchet after he had a little accident, that’s all.”

“An accident?” Elita places her servos on her hips, looking less than convinced.

“He fell,” Jazz says, not technically lying. “He was totally fine, though, just thought he should get looked over.”

Elita’s face softens. He won’t be maimed, then. “Right. Well, you’re coming with me to check when Ratchet last saw him.”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

—

“B hasn’t been in for any checkups,” Ratchet says, scrolling through a datapad. “I think he’s been ignoring the developmental ones, too.”

“Oh,” says Jazz, who’s chance of being murdered have increased fivefold. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.” Ratchet sighs heavily, squinting at whatever he’s reading. “I need to take his inner energon samples to see if he still has that mineral deficency…”

“We’ll leave you to it, doc,” Elita says, smiling.

“Please don’t send Jazz back to me,” the medic deadpans.

Jazz laughs awkwardly and backs away. “I’ll go look over… here.”

Elita glares. “If I find him first, I’m cutting your pay.”

“If I do?”

“Your reward is survival.”

Jazz takes the hint, sprinting down the hallway.

—

B messed up. He messed up and Jazz was mad at him.

He covers his mouth to stifle another sob, curling up more. His frame hurts, glass shoved into delicate joints and under thin plating. His digits ache. It hurts and he deserves it, doesn’t he? He messed up, like he always does.

They’ll realise how useless he is and then they’ll send him back to sublevel 50 because that’s the best place for a useless glitch like him—

Above him, something creaks. He glances up and yelps quietly when he sees Laserbeak staring back at him.

“Wh- How did you get in here?”

Laserbeak chirps, hopping down and landing on his shoulder. He cringes a bit and the cassessete starts rumbling gently. 

“You really shouldn’t be here,” he mumbles, which just makes Laserbeak hunker down more. “Alright, alright.”

He shuffles to place the cassessete in his lap, messing with some of the kibble on his wings. “It’s a long way from the base,” he says. “Are you hungry?”

The cassessete hops around, doing an uncharacteristically obvious basic scan. B blinks, realising his own energon levels are low. “Oh.”

Laserbeak nudges his helm gently, before taking off out an open window he never noticed before.

“That’s one hidey hole compromised,” B says, standing up on shaky legs and sliding out of the storage room.

He presses himself against the wall as a blur of colour rushes by. He recognises the shades of blue, white, and black as belonging to Jazz. 

… he should probably help him.