Transformers Fan Fiction ❯ Painted ❯ Painted ( Chapter 1 )
[ A - All Readers ]
By: Dancing Mouse 
Pre-G1. An unwanted art critique leaves Sunstreaker in a bad mood. Lambofluff.
Non Anime: Transformers Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Mecha | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 12.14.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.3K | Visits: 840 | Status: Completed
Pre-G1. An unwanted art critique leaves Sunstreaker in a bad mood. Lambofluff.
Non Anime: Transformers Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Mecha | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 12.14.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.3K | Visits: 840 | Status: Completed
Painted
Disclaimer: HASBRO owns them all. Alas…
Summary: Pre-G1. An unwanted art critique leaves Sunstreaker in a bad mood. Lambofluff.
OooooO
Yellow hands gripped an oversized paintbrush. Careful strokes, coupled with a practiced optic, painted the wall, graceful curves creating a fine work of art. A group of bots stood around the artist, admiring his work, watching with awe-struck optics and murmuring amongst themselves about how good he was. Smirking proudly to himself, he continued his art. Of course he was good, he was Sunstreaker. He didn’t expect anything less than the best from himself, and neither did anyone else.
Paint spattering his hands and face, which he sneered slightly about. He’d have to get that off later. He had his pride to keep in check. Ignoring the paint for a moment, he stepped back, scanning the mural of Cybertron’s finest leaders that sprawled its way along the metallic surface.
He turned back, pressing effortlessly on, working until most of the bots moved on, attention turning to other sights. One however, lingered, frowning slightly as narrowed optics stared at the painting. Sunstreaker paused, turning towards the straggler. Smiling proudly, he gestured towards the painting.
“So, what do you think? Is it not the most gorgeous piece of work you ever laid your optics on?” He gushed, feeling like a proud parent as he described his masterpiece. In a way, his art was his children, each one equally loved and nurtured until it blossomed into a piece of art that could’ve been hung in Cybertron’s finest art museum. At least, that’s what Sunstreaker thought should happen.
The bot cocked his head to the side, slowly approaching the painting. Raising a hand, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, he opened his mouth.
“The colors could’ve been brighter,” He said, sounding more like a stuck-up art snob than a casual observer. “Plus, the proportions are all wrong. Sentinel Prime should be bigger, and Prima doesn’t have a head that small.”
Sunstreaker’s smile faded, morphing itself into a sneer as the bot spoke. Did he just say there were flaws in his work? That didn’t sit with Sunstreaker, not at all. Insult his art and you insult him, and insulting Sunstreaker wasn’t a very smart thing to do.
“Excuse me?” He said, trying to keep his voice calm, but in reality, he wanted to scream at the bot, tell him he knew nothing about art.
“Oh, and there’s a few places where you went out of the lines.”
Sunstreaker snorted. “Yeah…and my own paint job is dull.”
“Actually, it is.” The bot turned towards him, his haughty, better-than-you look deepening as he ran his optics over Sunstreaker.
“All right that’s it! First you insult my art, then you insult me?!” Sunstreaker yelled, elegant hands curling into fists. “Get out of my sight before I slag you up!” He took a threatening step towards the bot, optics flaring in anger.
Sensing that he pushed his luck far enough, the other bot backed down. With a toss of his head and an arrogant smirk he walked off, mumbling insults tat really would’ve gotten him in deep trouble with the artist if he heard them.
When the bot was out of sight, Sunstreaker let out a pent up breath, wondering for a second if he’d over-reacted. Looking over at his art, the art he spent hours of research and time on, that thought was roughly pushed from his mind. Whoever had the ball bearings to insult his art like that deserved his wrath.
Sighing, he picked up his tools, placing them back in their cases. He needed to go home, perhaps drown his anger in a few cubes of Energon.
OooooO
“Hey, Sunny,” His red counterpart greeted him when he walked through the door. “Uh-oh, what happened? I know that sneer anywhere.” That was the thing that Sideswipe knew how to do really well, place Sunstreaker’s sneers with his moods.
“Slag off for a moment. I need a drink first,” He snarled at his twin, dropping his art case on the floor, not even bothering with pushing it off to the side.
“Did something happen at work?” Sideswipe asked, pressing Sunstreaker. He knew it was a bad idea to push Sunstreaker when he didn’t want to be bothered, but that was the best way to get him to talk, even if it meant getting a few dents in him.
“I said, slag off for a minuet,” Sunstreaker repeated, getting a cube of high grade out of the dispenser. Sideswipe fell quiet, waiting for Sunstreaker to make the next move. “Okay, now that I have my cube, do you want to know what happened?”
Sideswipe nodded. He knew his twin would feel better if he got whatever was bothering off his chest.
“Some slagger thought he knew art better than I did,” He sneered, taking a sip of his cube before continuing. “And then he had the lugnuts to insult me on top of it!”
Sideswipe smirked. “Did you slag him for that?” He asked.
“No, but I almost did. He ran off before I could raise my hands. Fragging slagger.”
“Well, you know you’re the best. Why let him bother you?”
“When you put your spark into something and someone says it isn’t perfect, which is was mind you, you don’t know how angry that gets me.” He took another hard drink from his cube, mendenta gritting with anger as the day’s events reared up again.
“Come on Sunny, he was probably one of those bots who hang out in the Art museum all day and think they know everything about art. It takes a true artist to create one of those masterpieces.” He put an arm over his brother’s golden shoulders, smiling warmly as he looked into his brother’s optics. “And I know a true artist when I see one.”
Sunstreaker let his head fall onto his twins shoulder. “And I know an aft kisser when I see one.” He teased, knowing his brother spoke the truth, but being his old vain self, didn’t want to admit it.
“You know I only speak the truth Sunny.” He place a chaste kiss on his brother’s perfectly formed cheek. “Now, how about you put those talented hands to use and hone those perfect skills of yours? If you want I’ll be your model.”
“Yeah right, I’d get more out of it if I stared at myself in a mirror,” Sunstreaker smiled, putting down the half drunk cube and reaching for his art case. Sideswipe laughed as he settled onto the couch.
“Make it pretty, Sunshine,” He said, striking a pose as he smirked playfully at his brother.
“Call me that again, and this brush is going up your exhaust,” Sunstreaker threatened, trying to keep the mirth out of his voice, but failing.
“That’s my Sunny,” Sideswipe thought as Sunstreaker settled down in front of his easel, lining up his paints gently.
“Now hold still, this may take awhile…”
OooooO
Lambofluff is the best kind of fluff, don’t you think? :)
I love Artist!Sunstreaker a lot. A lot of people forget that he was an artist before joining the Autobots, so I like to play with his artistic life.
Disclaimer: HASBRO owns them all. Alas…
Summary: Pre-G1. An unwanted art critique leaves Sunstreaker in a bad mood. Lambofluff.
OooooO
Yellow hands gripped an oversized paintbrush. Careful strokes, coupled with a practiced optic, painted the wall, graceful curves creating a fine work of art. A group of bots stood around the artist, admiring his work, watching with awe-struck optics and murmuring amongst themselves about how good he was. Smirking proudly to himself, he continued his art. Of course he was good, he was Sunstreaker. He didn’t expect anything less than the best from himself, and neither did anyone else.
Paint spattering his hands and face, which he sneered slightly about. He’d have to get that off later. He had his pride to keep in check. Ignoring the paint for a moment, he stepped back, scanning the mural of Cybertron’s finest leaders that sprawled its way along the metallic surface.
He turned back, pressing effortlessly on, working until most of the bots moved on, attention turning to other sights. One however, lingered, frowning slightly as narrowed optics stared at the painting. Sunstreaker paused, turning towards the straggler. Smiling proudly, he gestured towards the painting.
“So, what do you think? Is it not the most gorgeous piece of work you ever laid your optics on?” He gushed, feeling like a proud parent as he described his masterpiece. In a way, his art was his children, each one equally loved and nurtured until it blossomed into a piece of art that could’ve been hung in Cybertron’s finest art museum. At least, that’s what Sunstreaker thought should happen.
The bot cocked his head to the side, slowly approaching the painting. Raising a hand, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, he opened his mouth.
“The colors could’ve been brighter,” He said, sounding more like a stuck-up art snob than a casual observer. “Plus, the proportions are all wrong. Sentinel Prime should be bigger, and Prima doesn’t have a head that small.”
Sunstreaker’s smile faded, morphing itself into a sneer as the bot spoke. Did he just say there were flaws in his work? That didn’t sit with Sunstreaker, not at all. Insult his art and you insult him, and insulting Sunstreaker wasn’t a very smart thing to do.
“Excuse me?” He said, trying to keep his voice calm, but in reality, he wanted to scream at the bot, tell him he knew nothing about art.
“Oh, and there’s a few places where you went out of the lines.”
Sunstreaker snorted. “Yeah…and my own paint job is dull.”
“Actually, it is.” The bot turned towards him, his haughty, better-than-you look deepening as he ran his optics over Sunstreaker.
“All right that’s it! First you insult my art, then you insult me?!” Sunstreaker yelled, elegant hands curling into fists. “Get out of my sight before I slag you up!” He took a threatening step towards the bot, optics flaring in anger.
Sensing that he pushed his luck far enough, the other bot backed down. With a toss of his head and an arrogant smirk he walked off, mumbling insults tat really would’ve gotten him in deep trouble with the artist if he heard them.
When the bot was out of sight, Sunstreaker let out a pent up breath, wondering for a second if he’d over-reacted. Looking over at his art, the art he spent hours of research and time on, that thought was roughly pushed from his mind. Whoever had the ball bearings to insult his art like that deserved his wrath.
Sighing, he picked up his tools, placing them back in their cases. He needed to go home, perhaps drown his anger in a few cubes of Energon.
OooooO
“Hey, Sunny,” His red counterpart greeted him when he walked through the door. “Uh-oh, what happened? I know that sneer anywhere.” That was the thing that Sideswipe knew how to do really well, place Sunstreaker’s sneers with his moods.
“Slag off for a moment. I need a drink first,” He snarled at his twin, dropping his art case on the floor, not even bothering with pushing it off to the side.
“Did something happen at work?” Sideswipe asked, pressing Sunstreaker. He knew it was a bad idea to push Sunstreaker when he didn’t want to be bothered, but that was the best way to get him to talk, even if it meant getting a few dents in him.
“I said, slag off for a minuet,” Sunstreaker repeated, getting a cube of high grade out of the dispenser. Sideswipe fell quiet, waiting for Sunstreaker to make the next move. “Okay, now that I have my cube, do you want to know what happened?”
Sideswipe nodded. He knew his twin would feel better if he got whatever was bothering off his chest.
“Some slagger thought he knew art better than I did,” He sneered, taking a sip of his cube before continuing. “And then he had the lugnuts to insult me on top of it!”
Sideswipe smirked. “Did you slag him for that?” He asked.
“No, but I almost did. He ran off before I could raise my hands. Fragging slagger.”
“Well, you know you’re the best. Why let him bother you?”
“When you put your spark into something and someone says it isn’t perfect, which is was mind you, you don’t know how angry that gets me.” He took another hard drink from his cube, mendenta gritting with anger as the day’s events reared up again.
“Come on Sunny, he was probably one of those bots who hang out in the Art museum all day and think they know everything about art. It takes a true artist to create one of those masterpieces.” He put an arm over his brother’s golden shoulders, smiling warmly as he looked into his brother’s optics. “And I know a true artist when I see one.”
Sunstreaker let his head fall onto his twins shoulder. “And I know an aft kisser when I see one.” He teased, knowing his brother spoke the truth, but being his old vain self, didn’t want to admit it.
“You know I only speak the truth Sunny.” He place a chaste kiss on his brother’s perfectly formed cheek. “Now, how about you put those talented hands to use and hone those perfect skills of yours? If you want I’ll be your model.”
“Yeah right, I’d get more out of it if I stared at myself in a mirror,” Sunstreaker smiled, putting down the half drunk cube and reaching for his art case. Sideswipe laughed as he settled onto the couch.
“Make it pretty, Sunshine,” He said, striking a pose as he smirked playfully at his brother.
“Call me that again, and this brush is going up your exhaust,” Sunstreaker threatened, trying to keep the mirth out of his voice, but failing.
“That’s my Sunny,” Sideswipe thought as Sunstreaker settled down in front of his easel, lining up his paints gently.
“Now hold still, this may take awhile…”
OooooO
Lambofluff is the best kind of fluff, don’t you think? :)
I love Artist!Sunstreaker a lot. A lot of people forget that he was an artist before joining the Autobots, so I like to play with his artistic life.