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schrijverr · 6 months

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I Dig You 1

Chapter 1 out of 8

Robin is tentatively excited for her first internship: an archaeological dig in the Netherlands, where she has been studying. However, when she gets there, Steve is there too. The dick of their uni that she now has to work with. Great. But being stuck digging for six weeks makes people bond and maybe he isn’t too bad. Maybe he can be her friend.

AKA an archaeology interns, modern, enemies-to-friends stobin au

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: referenced homophobia

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Chapter 1: Encounter

Of course.

Of fucking course.

Robin will never be rid of this fucking guy, she seethes as she glares daggers into the back of Steve Harrington’s head. He hasn’t done anything in particular, he just showed up. But that was enough for Robin.

Why must he also be here? She would have totally thought he’d be in the Caribbean sieving sand instead of being here with her in a random small town in the Netherlands for his internship. It doesn’t make any sense, but here he is anyway.

Robin herself couldn’t afford to go on a uni internship, you had to pay to excavate, no thanks. She couldn’t even really afford a plane ticket home for the summer break, so she stayed in the Netherlands for her internship. A paid one, albeit only if you can count 3 euro per hour paid. It isn’t much, but otherwise she’s not getting credit for it, so alas.

However, Steve very much has Caribbean internship money. Or even Greece internship money. He could be chilling somewhere in the sun, but instead he’s here as well. And Robin doesn’t fucking get it.

She knows Steve has money, because she has been forced into his proximity since the introduction in the first year. As the two Americans in their year, they have often been grouped together and Robin would rather the uni stop. She has made her own friends. Not many or very good ones, but friends.

Enough that she doesn’t want to be stuck with Steve, whose parents bought him a house – not an apartment, but a house – when he came to study here. A house he throws so many parties at with girls who all thrist over him. It’s fucking annoying. He’s fucking annoying. And none of the pretty girls realize it and Robin wants to scream.

And instead of being rid of him for the summer, they’re stuck together for six weeks, because apparently he is on the same excavation she is.

Robin herself is here out of desperation. She has more of an interest in archaeosteology and the illnesses you can find in human remains. However, no graveyard was being excavated, so she’s getting her six weeks experience at a random excavation instead. Fine enough.

She doesn’t know what Steve is interested in, but she expects it to be something stupid like the Romans or something. Or maybe he doesn’t care for any of it and is he just doing it, because his mommy and daddy told him he had to do something and he thought archaeology would be easy. Must be regretting that now with the big practical aspect of it.

Maybe he forgot about the internships and didn’t sign up, so this is a desperate last resort to get his credits? That seems pretty likely, so Robin accepts that as reality.

Not that knowing why will change anything. And Steve doesn’t even seem to realize how much he has just ruined her summer. He just greets her with a smile as he asks: “You also interning here?”

“Yup,” Robin says, not trying to be rude, but also not feeling like being friendly.

Luckily the project leader introduces himself to them as they introduce themselves back. His name is Jeroen and he shows them the trench they’ll be working in for the first week, week and a half. Together. Great.

The excavation has been going on for a while already, but it won’t be done soon, since they’re digging at a construction site where an entire new neighborhood is being built. Robin is unfamiliar with commercial archaeology, so she listens eagerly, glad everyone here seems to speak good English. She has picked up phrases here and there, but she is far from fluent.

They’re currently working in trench five or, in Dutch, put vijf, while next to it construction is already happening on what used to be trench four. Further along trench six is already being plotted and dug by the machine excavator.

In trench five – put, Robin reminds herself, wanting to be able to get the terms right for when they’re written down, since the excavation is in Dutch – they need to dig up and record all the features, sporen in Dutch.

The two have couped at their first fieldschool, so they’re given a shovel to go with their trowel and Jeroen explains how the admin system works, before setting them loose to coup the first half of all the features – no, sporen.

Robin is half tempted to wait and see where Steve starts, so she can dig at the other side of the put, but there are already a few people digging and she wants to be friendly with the people that are going to be her coworkers, so she follows after Steve.

With Jeroen, it’s a team of nine total, including her and Steve. Since they can only work one put at a time (not to mention it’s summer break) a bigger team isn’t necessary. Robin is grateful for it, because large groups of people have never been her thing, so this smaller crew seems a lot more manageable.

Maybe this internship wouldn’t be too bad.

One woman, Astrid, takes them under her wing a little, asking: “Have you dug many coups before already?”

Robin shares a look with Steve – it’s involuntary, she swears, but it happens. Their fieldschool wasn’t exciting with nothing being found.

So, while they did get the theoretical explanation that when people in the past dug holes to place things like poles or trash, those poles and organic trash decomposed and with the new layer of soil that formed a new color dirt filled the hole, which they could now see when they dug to the C horizon in the earth. Neither of them have dug out many of the features/sporen.

However, Robin doesn’t want to admit to her own inexperience so bluntly. Steve does not have that inhibition, easily shrugging: “Like one or two. This is my first internship.” And while Robin still doesn’t like Steve, she is glad that she can just nod along.

“Alright, but you know how to do it, right?” Astrid asks, before chuckling: “It’s luckily not that hard.”

Robin awkwardly chuckles too as the two of them nod.

“I’ll draw some-” Astrid stops her sentence and turns to one of the others, who is digging further down, yelling: “Bas, wat is een goede vertaling voor coupeerhaken?”

The man in question, Bas, looks up and thinks for a second. The he yells back: “Geen idee, iets van coup hooks?”

Robin’s Dutch isn’t amazing, but she’s pretty sure Astrid just asked Bas for a translation of the word and Bas had no clue either.

She turns back to them apologetically and says: “I’m going to call them coup hooks. The little thingies to indicate what part to dig out, you know what I mean right?”

“Yeah, I do,” Robin smiles, wanting to assure Astrid.

“I would have no clue what to call them otherwise,” Steve adds and Robin feels vaguely annoyed, because she is pretty sure Astrid’s smile back is directed at Steve, not her.

“Anyway,” Astrid moves on. “I’ll draw some for you until you get the hang of them. And just give a holler if you find anything, you’ll know because you’ll hear your shovel break it.”

Robin still finds the idea of breaking any finds horrifying, but it seems to be part of it. And she doesn’t want to pull attention to it, so she just thanks Astrid and follows after her with Steve to the first two sporen so they can start digging.

Astrid quickly explains: “The card with the… uh, spoornummer… Ah, featurenumber! When you’re done digging stick it in to the side, so we know it hasn’t been drawn in yet.”

“And photos?” Robin asks, proud at herself for managing to speak up and ask about something she’s confused about instead of being anxious about it in private. College is good her her. Growth and all that.

To answer her question, Astrid gets a company phone with a sturdy case that functions as a camera and explains the admin app for photos to them. She points to where the North arrow and folding ruler are, before leaving them to it.

Now couping can be a little boring, especially in put five where there is apparently nothing to be found in the sporen. So they’re just digging to find out what shape the discolored earth is in the hopes of figuring out what its function used to be.

She and Steve work in silence for most of it. He tries to start a few conversations, but she isn’t really in the mood to talk to him, more focused on creating a neat little square for a coup and not letting her vibe be ruined by Steve.

They have two breaks that day of half an hour, one is on the boss, but they have to pay for the other themselves. So after eight and a half hours, Robin says goodbye to the first day of her summer internship.

While it was kinda fun, she is glad to be done for the day. She still has two and a half hours in public transport ahead of her, before she’s home and can rinse off the dirt and sweat, something she is looking forward too. As she checks in, she sends a small thank you for free public transport for students to the sky, because she couldn’t afford the daily commute otherwise to this outer corner of the Netherlands.

The next day her alarm goes early in the morning and she’s glad she doesn’t have roommates in her student housing, because they would probably hate her with how she’s grumbling and stumbling around in her studio.

At the dig site, Steve looks way too chipper for the hour and she sends him a glare. He looks a little confused, maybe even hurt by it and she feels a bit bad. However, she stuffs the emotion away and grabs a shovel. Steve is an asshole, she probably just imagined it.

Again, they’re digging coups the whole day. The sun is burning and the ground is drying out, making it incredibly difficult to get through. So, they’re all sweaty and a bit burnt when the first break is finally here. Robin finds it quite funny how they’re all re-applying sunscreen together, sitting in a circle.

And so the days continue.

That first week Robin gets into a rhythm. She stumbles out of bed early in the morning, dozes in the train, dozes in the bus, before having to walk the last bit to the dig site. There they dig all day, putting on sunscreen during both breaks, before she takes the bus and train again, showering when she gets home and shoveling down an easy meal. Digging makes you hungry. Then she writes her daily reports, before falling into bed.

She also tries to make contact with the other people they work with. All of them are nice and their English is great – not an odd detail, considering most of them studied at the university in English, taking the same courses she is now.

However, they’ve worked in the field along other Dutch people since their graduation, so it’s habit to fall back in the language. Robin gets it, but she feels awkward reminding them that she can’t follow along. Her Dutch isn’t that great yet. So, she kind of fades to the background.

Steve is in the same boat as her, though he has less trouble reminding him he doesn’t speak Dutch, which Robin is reluctantly grateful for.

She knows she could be taking with Steve, since he won’t default to Dutch on accident, but she is holding on to her grudge. Not that Steve is making it easy. He seems perfectly nice and charming, which grates on her nerves.

And makes it very difficult to dislike him. Something that makes Robin dislike him even more and that only fuels her silence.

Not that it has deterred Steve from talking to her. He must have gotten tired of reminding people around Thursday that first week and has taken up talking to her during their breaks. It’s nothing interesting, just classes, professors, friends, parties, other shit he did. He doesn’t seem to mind her lack of replies.

Robin has to admit that Steve is funny too. Fucking annoying that is. But the jokes he makes are hilarious and she has to bite her lip not to laugh. She doesn’t like Steve, she reminds herself, she’s not giving him the satisfaction of laughing.

She breaks on Tuesday of week two. It’s about the stupidest joke too. Steve is telling her about how he got rejected for a date at a faculty party, groaning: “And she turned me down all because I told her that I dug her. You know, digging? Because we’re archaeologists. That’s a great joke, works on Argyle every-”

He cuts himself off in surprise, eyes growing wide as he looks at her. It’s only when he falls silent that she realizes she laughed.

An embarrassed blush covers her cheeks immediately and she looks away with a huff. “It’s a good pun,” she admits, as though under duress. It isn’t that good, but it’s funny.

For a second she regrets admitting that, until she chances a glance at Steve and sees him wearing a proud, self-satisfied grin. It almost looks as if trying to get her to laugh had been his goal all along and she doesn’t know how to feel about it.

The gesture is sweet, but for all she knows, he could be trying to get into her pants. She hates when guys try to do that.

“Thanks,” he smiles at her, oblivious to her inner musings. Then he blows her expectations out of the water when he laughs: “I should stop trying that line on girls, honestly. The only time it every worked was when I asked out Tommy, but that was never going to be more than a fling.”

“You’re… queer?” Robin asks, too surprised to hide it.

“Yeah, bi. Didn’t you know?” Steve asks in return, frowning a little. “I thought for sure we talked a little at that lgbtq hang out thing back in first year.”

They had, Robin remembers that and now she feels a little terrible for her bitter thoughts as she admits: “I thought you were only there to get into Tammy’s pants.”

Steve is quiet for a moment and just when Robin thinks he’s going to get mad or upset – neither of which are good since Robin gets anxious when people are mad and uncomfortable when they’re upset – Steve laughs again.

It surprises Robin almost more than the earlier revelation. He looks at her with a grin and says: “To be fair, I was trying to get into Tammy’s pants.”

He looks so kind as he says it, so nonjudgmental – unlike Robin had been – like he doesn’t care that she kinda erased his identity and called him performative. Maybe there is more to Steve than she had realized, she thinks, as she allows herself to smile back and say: “Sorry.”

Steve shrugs: “It’s okay. I try not to flaunt it too much anyway. Can’t have word coming back to my folks back home, you know.”

Robin flinches a little at that. Her own parents are cool and have always been, but she’s still forced into a dress whenever they go by her conservative grandmother, having to listen to all the advice about how to get a husband.

“That sucks,” she tells him genuinely, because they queers have to stick together.

“Tell me about it,” Steve chuckles, fortunately not sounding too bothered about the whole thing. “I guess it could be worse. My dad wanted me to be a legacy at Yale, then he would have heard all about what I’ve been doing from his old buddies. Now I got a whole ocean between us and no eyes on me at all. Just have to be careful about what I put online, but that’s it.”

It sounds like he’s underselling how much it sucks, but Robin isn’t going to push. If Steve is trying to undersell it, then he probably doesn’t want to talk about it. So, she just awkwardly goes: “That’s nice.”

Luckily, she is saved by the break ending and the two go out into the field again, digging even more coups.

They’re almost done with put five and put six has already being dug. There hasn’t been much inside the coups here, but they’re optimistic about more being found elsewhere, since they’re currently on the outer edge of what used to be a settlement instead of at the center.

This time, when they’re out digging, Robin actually talks back to Steve. She has decided that he can’t be all bad and digging in silence was kind of a bummer. So, she’s giving him a chance and hoping her faith isn’t misplaced. It would suck if Steve truly is a douche.

A/N:

I wanted Robin to be interested in proto-languages and how you can trace migration and interaction through language, but idk enough about it, so I went with archaeosteology because it fits with Robin too and I know a little bit more of it, though not too much either lol (im planning on projecting my own interests onto Steve bc they fit him better)

Also rip Roman arch, u can be interesting, but ur also the normie archaeology that gets way too hyped for no reason xp

I’m 100% Astrid trying to translate subject specific lingo and struggling, though I manage to do it both ways lmaooo

Also I love couping, idc what people say, it’s not boring and while it might be hard work, it is quite fun when you get into it

(btw, I think international students sadly don’t get free public transport here, which is so sad, but I didn’t want to put Robin through actual public transport prices bc those are criminal (we love a private company having a monopoly on a public service))

#rr writing #stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #platonic stobin #stobin #stobin au #archaeologists stobin au #enemies to friends stobin #OCs

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convexicalcrow · 2 months

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Cairo, 1921

It's been a long season of exploration for Pix, leading expeditions into the oases west of Egypt in search of new discoveries. Much of what he'd found was rubble, or buried several feet under sand. But it had not all been for nothing! He was particularly interested in what some enscriptions call an invasion of the Sea Peoples towards the end of Dynastic Egypt which seems to have plunged the country into chaos. There's more records in Greek and Roman sources, but they're much more sedated in their descriptions, and mostly talk of Egypt falling into ruin. Concerning, but not that concerning for a civilisation that had lasted for thousands of years relatively unchanged.

The problem was, such an invasion was unlikely to leave much evidence behind, if some of the stories aare true about the scale of the slaughter. Which, of course, could have been for dramatic effect. To the victor goes the spoils. Certainly, in Bahariya Oasis, he'd uncovered some broken pots with various bits of papyrus in them, and evidence to suggest things had once burned. The temple that once stood there was barely standing anymore; it was just a few columns and stelae and statuary half-buried in the sand.

And now that the digging was over, he was now tasked with recording his finds and writing up a report for his benefactor, so he might continue exploring next season. Most of the papyri in the pots seemed to be letters to the dead, though there was no record of these sorts of papyri being buried in pots. Still, this could mean it was ground-breaking research and that was exciting! Well, as exciting as reading through such personal expressions of grief could be, Pix mused.

On their own, they were pretty standard. Children talking to their parents. Parents calling for their children. Others calling for other family members or friends, some who may or may not have been buried. They seemed to be the newest Egyptian artefacts found in terms of dates, as the hieratic they were written in was only from this late period around the time of this supposed invasion.

It was when Pix looked at them together that it kind of hit him how grief doesn't really change. These could have been written twenty years ago and no one would think them odd. And there were so many of them! Some were dated, some not, but he had uncovered over 115 of them in one necropolis, and another 97 more in a second necropolis further towards the outside of the main town in the oasis. That was a lot of grief, and might not have even been all of them. All of them written in the space of, perhaps, ten years or so, as if something calamatous did indeed befall the oasis. The letters are vague about what happened, but given the dates, Pix is sure it can only mean one thing. Some invading force reached this far-flung oasis and left a lot of people dead.

Pix finds himself returning to one letter in particular. It's written from a son to his father, with writing that's erratic and disjointed. Some of the ink has smudged, making parts of it unreadable. It's also remarkable that it contains no names. The son simply calls him, father, and himself, his beloved son. Which is rather unusual indeed. The remembrance of the name was considered vital to a good afterlife, so why would this letter remain so anonymous?

He picked it up to examine it. It was a small piece of papyrus, torn in places, and folded hastily and shoved into the pot, unlike the others that were rolled and tied with a piece of cloth. It suggested some reluctance, or haste, or perhaps he was disturbed in the process of writing to his father. Perhaps he'd never know. But some of the words just kept echoing around in his brain, as if somehow, these were people he once knew. Which seemed absurd of course! He was no ancient Egyptian! But something nagged at him. It was just-

"A letter from a son to his father. It begins, 'Praise to my father, who died for Ma'at, who rises with Ra into the sky from the belly of Nut! Praise to you, O Wesir, who gives life to the lifeless, shine on with my father, may he be justified! Please… keep him safe. I know not where you are. You would not recognise me today. My heart is. weary. How can I mourn when there is so much at stake? I have few friends in this world. Your beloved son misses you, and perhaps, one day, when my heart no longer rages, perhaps then I will find peace. Please just let me know you are okay. Let me know you made it to Wesir's court, that you are an akh in the skies, who lives forever. Every day I am met with uncertainty. I remember the last time I saw you. I remember the fear in your face. I think I knew then, that this would be the end. I was too young to understand, but somehow, I knew. I' and then it cuts off. I feel this son's sadness and confusion as if it is my own. But why though? Who are you? Who are you who haunts my dreams?" Pix said, staring at the papyrus as if it might give out more secrets.

He sat back in his chair, letting the papyrus sit on the desk. He could see- candles. A dark place with candles. Some kind of weird memorial. Nothing Egyptian, it looked nothing like that. And as soon as the image was in his head, it was gone. A fleeting imagining of something. Or a sign he was up too late again. It was, after all, after midnight, he confirned, checking his pocket watch. Perhaps sleep will cure him of his ills. Perhaps another expedition out to the oasis will yield more finds. Perhaps then he might be able to put these letters to rest, along with those who were being remembered.

#hermitcraft #empires smp #fanfic #pixlriffs #the lost prince au #reincarnation #past lives #letters to the dead #ancient egyptian au #i couldn't help myself #this is so self-indulgent #but archaeologist!pix is so precious to me #i had an idea and ran with it #so sue me lol #hermitfic

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butterfrogmantis · 5 months

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For some reason MerSkelly brings up more questions than regular Skelly fjsdkf how did part of him get preseverved if all of him was underwater, walking on skeleton legs is one thing but a skeleton fish tail has no water resistance right? I know this my au shut up fdsjkfkj I also have no idea which species of fish he was in life because I didn't think about that oh well this au isn't THAT deep (hehe … deep … ocean…………)

Archie and Pal are of course Coelacanth mermen, an ancient (being the keyword) lobe-finned fish

Pal has a Megalodon tooth! Prehistoric underwater creatures are a whole new specality for him

Archie kind of has a little mermaid thing goin' on with being obsessed with human treasures that come from ships to explore and examine, I'm not sure how well merfolk archaeology would work but exploring the sunkern treasures keeps him occupied for now

Archie and Pal (c) The Smurfs

Skelly is mine

#the smurfs #smurfs #BFM oc: Skelly #archaeologist smurf #palaeontologist smurf #merfolk au

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ragnarlothcat · 2 years

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Anakin's worshipers are either people he's fucked/sent feet pics too cause he's not picky where his money comes from, or his students who adore him and the people who are a fan of his work.

I was going to say this Anakin doesn't need the extra income of feet pics, but I don't actually know how much they pay archaeologists. Maybe he does need a little extra to rent planes and to replace all the backpacks he abandons in random temples! (Would someone who explores ruins for a living have nice feet? You know what, I don't want that question answered.)

His students being his worshippers is extremely cute. I've never worshipped a professor but I did follow one on twitter for a bit even though all she talked about was british politics. That's the closest I'll get until one of them gets deified via ancient sex rituals! I'm on the alumni mailing list so I'm sure I'll hear something if it happens.

#asks #anon #archaeologist au #everything else from that mailing list is asking me for money #maybe they wouldn't need my money if they wasted less of it printing letters to send to me #surely they have email

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kidscribbles · 4 months

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Oh boy more archaeologists au.

Leon has lost one to many artifacts to Ada Wong, who sells the item to the highest bidder, occasionally taking contracts to retrieve them herself, or retrieve them from Leon.

#art #leon kennedy #my art #procreate #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy art #resident evil art #archeologists Leon #archaelogy!RE:AU #archaeologists ada #ada Wong #resident evil au #digital art #resident evil 4 remake

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iobartach · 18 days

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it feels so fitting that a character called v.enture would whip my ass in ow2 🥲

#ooc #as a tank main idk what the hell to do #they're in the damn AIR as much as they are burrowing underground #beneath my shields. my defences. my cooldowns.#idk how to counter 'em yet #but at least they're a miner and not a corpo bounty hunter #... ... ...... you knowwww #2099!venture the archaeologist au anyone? 👀#do they also have a sib called risque tho--

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nny11writes · 6 months

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WiP Wednesday - Hunt Showdown AU because no one stopped me :)

Shadow Weaver was there, knelt in the turned soil. Various blooms surrounded her and a small sack of seeds lay by her side. Of course it was a bit hard to concentrate on that considering the man who was wrapped in barbed wire and half buried looked up at her and began to scream through his gag. Weaver cuffed his ear the way she’d hit Catra a thousand times as she stood and wiped her hands off on her dress.

“You hush while the living are speaking. Your chance was had.”

“Torturing for fun or profit these days?” Catra asked, mildly curious as she stepped over the man to follow her master into the shade of a large willow.

Shadow Weaver sighed heavily, shooting her a side eye as she pulled a canteen off a low branch and handed it to her. The water was blessedly cool as she spoke, “You always think the worst of me. That one there died and rose, not a grunt but not quite human either. Strange tides these days, not that you’d know having been lazing about.”

Catra snorted at that.

“Oh yeah, nothing to do in hell all damned eternity but kick my feet up.” She screwed the cap back on and gave the canteen back. “Fine, what’s with all this nonsense then? Your hold?”

Weaver glared at her, eyes like ice. “No. But I know the mark, they call themselves infernals. I believe you had some dealings with them before you got sloppy. The Prodigal Daughter no doubt.”

Catra bit her tongue hard enough to taste blood.

She had not been sloppy the day she died, she had been betrayed.

#catra #shadow weaver #shadow weaver's A+ parenting #casual torture for fun AND profit #hunt showdown AU #Rise up damned soul!#I do not understand the game lore enough to be doing this #big RIP for me considering I'm not even done with the damn bloodborne AU lol #apparently I got a thing for making characters suffer in the torment nexus of whichever game has me hooked atm #yes Weaver is Mama Bootylicious Maye #she is also hail mary and the archaeologist #Perfuma can be the daughter of decay it's fine it's fine it's fine!#Catra has been summoned right out of hell and neither her nor Weaver are happy about it #Catra is a human but no happy afterlife for hunters :)#I have #too many thoughts

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rise-of-the-ancients · 1 year

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For You, My Love…

A stone tablet was gently placed onto Terios’ table unexpectedly. With a grumbled sigh, Terios lowered his burger to his plate and crossed his arms to his chest. Weary eyes shifted upwards to see an eagerly waiting hedgehog batting her eyelashes and smiling warmly. AmyRose, Bygone Village’s only linguist anthropologist (and curator of the Bygone National History Museum), was always fascinated with the Ancient’s culture… specifically mythology and stories of love. Ever since Sonic dropped the ball and slipped Terios’ secret out to the others, the linguist had brought him many tablets and scrolls to decipher from the museum’s archives. Some, he admitted, were quite charming to review. It was nice to see that someone still cared for ancestral roots and voices from the past. Other made his blood boil and scoff at their existence. He had to remind himself not to bring biased perspective on their translations and meaning whenever he assisted her.

However, he was in no mood to assist Ms. Rose in the anthropology labs at the museum. He was not in the mood for translating tablets that consisted of flatbread recipes and witty jokes. Today was meant to be a period of tranquility and peace. All he wanted was a bit of peace and quiet from the others around him. Though he questioned if retreating to Meh Burger was the wisest option for solidarity, especially since Bygone Village was more active than usual. He should have expected such with all of red and pink heart-shaped decorations across the village square. It would also explain the reason for Amy’s very formal looking attire. Not that he cared much anyways. Perhaps he should’ve just stayed secluded in his cave on the outskirts of the village today.

“What is this,” he mumbled.

“The dress? Oh! Sticks, Percy, and I are doing a Gal-entines Day thing today since the boys have their own thing going on. Sonic asked me to pass the invitation to you since we ran into each other earlier. There’s nachos and video games and—“

Terios shook his head. “Not the dress,” he said in a lowered voice, “I meant the stone tablet.”

“Oh! Cliff gave me this while he was on a dig in Crater Lake,” AmyRose squealed. “I think that it’s a memoir. Stones that are polished and retouched with ochre paints appeared to be highly valued in Ancient culture. It’s been cared for immensely… even after the war over a thousand years ago! I know that you wanted to be left alone today, but this one is just too interesting to ignore. Do you think that you can help translate these glyphs for me? Please? Just something simple to note on a White Card?”

Terios drummed his fingers on his arms with a frown. “OMEGA is just as capable as—“

Just as he was about to finish his statement, Terios heard a cackle of laughter from behind. His eyes grew wide and his ears flattened as he listened to the cackling turn into screams. Terios shifted his eyes upwards to study the facial expressions of hedgehog next to him. Her once bright smile had turned into a sour grimace as she winced, sucking in her breath through clenched teeth as she watched the scene. Terios didn’t need to turn his behind his back to know what the situation was about.

“Step back,” he informed her as he reached for the stone.

As she opened her mouth to question his statement, the hedgehog let out a squeak as the table snapped in half. Terios, still seated, peered over the tablet to look at the remains of a once perfectly good table. Waddling from side to side in content, cyan colored eyes flickered open and observed it’s surroundings. After scanning the scene, the gray colored stone chirped in content to see Terios’ face. OMEGA. Of course OMEGA was getting in trouble when he wasn’t supposed to. Bringing him out in public to experience the new age of social development had seemed like an admirable idea at first. But seeing the rock golem’s head strive to cause chaos and purposefully run over people’s toes was causing some problems. He should have left him home, or at least in the care of the others. The mortals of this time period were not so used to mystical things as they once were a thousand years ago.

“TERIOS!” The rock golem’s head said gleefully. “GUESS-WHAT? MORTALS-IN-THIS-TIME-OF-AGE-ARE-EASIER-TO-SCARE. I-EMERGED-FROM-AN-INFANT’S-CRIB-AND-SCARED-A-LADY-WALRUS. SHE-SCREAMED-AND-THREW-ME-IN-THE-AIR!”

Terios shook his head and frowned as the rock golem cackled some more. “You know full well that you’re not supposed to be seen by the mortals. They’re too simple-minded to understand what you are.”

Amy cleared her throat and watched him hike his shoulders up. Most, not all mortals were ignorant and simple-minded. That was an understatement. He knew better.

“So…” Amy started, “do you think that you could translate real quick?”

Denying Amy once was a mistake that he vowed to never do again. He knew of the power that she contained when determined.

“Fine,” he mutter, “after this, I desire nothing more than to be alone.”

Terios turned the stone tablet to view on his lap and paused with his breath clenched between his teeth. Delicate relief carvings defined with ochre paint detailed a signature pen that he knew all too well. Even the score markings on the back, indicating an erased word, were a callback to a simpler, more loving time. As his eyes quickly skimmed the note on the tablet, Terios’ chest tightened as he read the final line, “for you, my love.” It was a poem that his soulmate had written to him many years ago. One that he had thought was lost as soon as the cold wars between the Ancients and Lyric began. Terios chuckled to himself with a faint smile. His fingers traced lightly over the ochre paints and faint etchings of the glyphs. It had been too long since he had seen the tablet. What a beautiful sign from the universe to show that their love for each other was still strong in spirit.

“That is classified information.” The hedgehog stood from the table and tucked the stone to his chest, “tell your antiquarian friend that I am pleased with the recovery. I will be apprehending this now.”

“W-Wait,” AmyRose stammered. She flung her arms around OMEGA—who had rocked back and forth for attention as he chirped a song—and trailed close behind the Titan. “Terios! You can’t take that! That belongs in a museum!”

“It belongs in my care. It was addressed to me.” Terios says as he tapped his clawed finger to the name scribbled towards the bottom.

“What do I tell Cliff? He’ll want to know what happened to the tablet.”

Terios turned on his heel and flashed her a cocky grin. “You’re very bright, Rose. You’ll think of something. Goodbye.”

And with that, Terios took his leave with the table held close to his chest. The ebony hedgehog studied the stone with care, running a finger over the engravings towards the bottom. “I love you too,” he cooed with a smile. “Always have, always will.”

#OMEGA the Golem #Sonic Boom #mystery anon #Hey look! The start of a new chapter!#AmyRose the Hedgehog #Terios the Titan #my au #Quick Archaeology Note: a white card is about the size of an insect card with basic info on the artifact that has a serial number and…#… a site number with location and a photo. These are also the worst smelling cards to have on file. Coming from me—an actual archaeologist #HAPPY (early) VALENTINES DAY #The Anthropocene #Short Story

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dreamlandcreations · 9 months

Text

Chapter 1 - Lost in Time

King!Alfie Solomons x archaeologist!Reader

Summary: You are stuck in the past after you interfered with the events of history and missed your window to return home…

Warnings: injury, tension of all kinds, a tiny bit of reader description (of having long hair) and more of an implied description by supposed relation (you'll get what I mean or see the tags for spoilers), a long Tommy-Alfie interaction (yes, that's a warning), tenses might be messed up

Series masterlist • Next chapter

Oddly, the first thing you are aware of isn't the pain but the presence of someone else in the room with you. It is as if he can sense you waking up, his own eyes open from the light sleep he was lulled into as your own flatter open and widen in fright at the sight of him.

You gasp in pain as you try to sit up to put some distance between you, as if you could run away from this colossal screwup and pretend it never happened. You do not get far though, he reaches for you and helps you sit up.

"Careful, little dove," the king murmurs. His hands still under your bent knees and behind your back where he supported you to be able to move without tearing at the stitched-up wound.

It is as if time stopped, you are both frozen, just gazing at each other with fascination and disbelief.

He moves first, and with a featherlight caress, he brushes along your cheek with the back of his hand and it reminds you how he was holding you in his arms after you've been stabbed. Your thoughts only wander away for a second or two, then his palm envelops your nape and he leans closer, slowly, giving you time to pull away.

Your breathing gets erratic just as your heartbeat, which you can hear drumming in your ears. His lips barely brush against yours but the touch sets you on fire and it seems he feels the same way because you both move to pull the other closer.

He deepens the kiss, tangling his fingers into your period-typically long hair as you grab onto his shirt to keep him close. It's desperate and wild and you quickly get lightheaded so you have to pull away but you can tell he would chase after you if it wasn't for the doors bursting open with a shattering thud against the wall.

Two loud men enter the room, talking at the same time.

"I'm sorry, my lord. He wouldn't listen..."

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?!"

You flinch at the sudden yell of "Shut up!" coming from the king beside you, who still hasn't moved away. He sighs heavily and with a last longing glance at you, he turns to the intruders.

"Ollie," he addresses the younger man, "be a good boy and leave us." It looked like the boy wanted to argue, but he quickly shut his mouth in response to the stern look he received from the king.

"Oh, and tell the doctor she is awake." The king yells over at him as an afterthought.

Ollie exits in a hurry, shutting the door behind him, leaving you alone with King Solomons and the man you recognized as the recently crowned Thomas Shelby from the neighbouring kingdom.

"Tommy!" the king grumbles his name as a warning and a question.

"I came here to see how my cousin feels," he nods in your direction, "and to give her this."

Your eyes widen at the sight of your watch and Tommy doesn't hesitate to approach you after you silently asked for it by reaching out with both hands. You grab it as soon as it's close enough but he doesn't let it go, forcing you to look up at him and meet his gaze as he nods meaningfully, trying to let you know that he is well aware of what the object is and who or more likely what are you. When he gets a subtle nod as a reply, he lets it go.

While your thoughts run wild, you examine the watch and try to figure out how to avoid causing more damage. But the two kings start to argue over you.

"Your cousin?"

"Yes, Lady Gray is Polly's daughter." Came the calm answer to the accusative question.

"Polly's daughter? The one who died years ago after she and little Michael were kidnapped to be raised by the enemy so they can use them against you. That daughter?" King Solomons asked, with every word dripping a ridiculous amount of mocking scepticism.

"Yes, Alfie, that is exactly what I'm saying." He crosses his arms over his chest with a disapproving expression as he goes on. "Now, if you could behave like a proper royal and put some distance between you and the lady, that would be much appreciated."

Alfie huffs but doesn't argue with the request and moves to sit back in the chair beside your bed while Tommy takes a seat on the edge of the bed, putting himself between the two of you.

The following conversation between them is like watching an intense game play out, with all the quick back-and-forth of questions and answers as Alfie tries to catch Tommy with a lie.

"I precisely remember you telling me that she was dead. Would you care to explain this miraculous resurrection?"

"I thought she was dead. We only found her recently. And I did not want to subject her to the court, yours or mine, until she had a chance to settle down into the new circumstances."

"In that case, what was she doing here, on a ball among so many people?"

"She wanted to come with me. It was a masquerade ball, she could have remained unnoticed through the whole night..." For the first time, Tommy hesitates and you think he might have difficulty coming up with the rest of the answer but you realise it was very much deliberate as he continues. "I don't know what happened."

But you don't have time to fully calm down because his convincing performance put the attention directly back on you.

"Well, why don't we ask our little lady?" Alfie inquires as he turns to you, still not convinced but asking with the ulterior motive of finally hearing you speak.

They both look at you expectantly and for a moment you can't find your voice.

"I didn't mean to cause any trouble." The little panic in your tone is absolutely real, as you fear you might screw this up even more.

Alfie takes your hand in his, assuring you with a soothing tone that "It's alright, dove. You are not in trouble. Just tell us."

And you are pretty sure he means to tell him the truth about everything but you decide to go with your instinct and play the innocent girl card while actually trying not to lie. You had a feeling you couldn't deceive him, even if you wanted to.

You look at Tommy as you start. "I know I should have kept my distance but I just couldn't help it. After all the stories I've heard, I couldn't help my curiosity getting the better of me."

Alfie immediately asks "What stories?" but you just shrug, pretending to be shy and look away, hoping he would let that go and he does.

"And the man with the blade?" He interrogates you further, with his playful demeanour gone but you know his well-hidden anger is not directed at you.

"He was acting strangely," you say with a frown as you try to remember exactly what happened. "He bumped into me but didn't stop or even look my way. His attention was entirely aimed at you, in a very unsettling way and... I don't know... I didn't even realise what I was doing until I felt the pain and..." you are breathing hard as you relive the incident and you don't know what else to say so you look at Tommy but it seems he has nothing else to add.

Alfie just nods and you think that was it but he finds another hole in the story Tommy started.

"A man called after you from the crowd but he disappeared since then."

Thankfully Tommy replies for you. "He was there to protect her and when he failed, he came to find me. It just took time to get through your people."

'"Really?" Alfie's tone indicated doubt, in that mocking way of his that you were starting to get used to. "And why was he calling her another name? Isn't she supposed to be Anna?"

You can't help but smile at that. He was clever, not saying the name, your real name, and expecting Tommy to fail this test but you intervene, quickly turning back their gaze to you from their stare-down, saying your name like you are asking Alife to confirm what he heard. He silently nods with narrowed eyes but his harsh look quickly melts as you smile at him and simply state, "It's my middle name."

Tommy sighs, feigning annoyance at what you suspect to be relief, acting like he had had enough of the game and asks, "Are done with the interrogation?"

"For now," Alfie concludes just as the doctor arrives.

You are examined again, thankfully in private but by the time he is done all your energy leaves you and you are fighting to stay awake. With the doctor done and reporting to the two kings, you had a minute to think.

You need to find out what Tommy knew and you even ask for him but he sees how exhausted you are so he assures you that there will be time to talk later.

"Rest," he commands as he squeezes your hand in reassurance, "I will be here in the morning, I promise."

With that, you close your eyes and sink into a deep, dreamless sleep.

#alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x you #alternate universe #timetravel au #king!alfie solomons #archaeologist!reader #shelby!reader #but not really #my stuff #my fics

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schrijverr · 5 months

Text

I Dig You 2

Chapter 2 out of 8

AKA an archaeology interns, modern, enemies-to-friends stobin au

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

Chapter 2: Cohabitation

Oppositely to what Robin had feared, Steve isn’t a douche!

It’s nearing the end of week two of digging and Robin has to admit that Steve has become her friend and favorite colleague.

As the two on the bottom of the ladder, they stick together, arguing about who has to walk back to get the forgotten picture board or who should dig in the area with all the iron that is horrible for their shovel.

However, they also delight together in being on an actual dig. Put six has proven to be more fruitful than put five and they’re actually finding shit there. Honestly, it’s not until Robin frees a sherd from her spoor and excitedly turns to Steve to exclaim: “Look at this big guy,” that she realizes that they are friends.

Steve immediately looks over and his eyes grow wide: “Wow, that’s the biggest sherd we’ve gotten so far. I have the find bags and cards here.”

Robin rushes over to him, sherd still in hand. As she gets a ziplockbag, she hands Steve the sherd so he can look. Most of the others aren’t that excited about it anymore, but Steve is.

She rambles: “I’ve been working at that thing for forever now, honestly. I almost got scared it was so big that it would be stuck there, since it’s still the first part of the coup, you know, so then it would be very difficult to get the surface neat. And it would have to be stuck in there until we were finishing the coups. What if someone took it?”

“I mean, they probably would have covered it, right? Or drawn the coup immediately so we could finish it and remove it,” Steve says, though he doesn’t sound completely sure.

“It could have broken,” Robin moves on to another worry she had, her previous anxiety soothed.

“Don’t worry about that too much. If you break it, you just increase the amount of finds,” Bas interrupts, startling them both. “Do you know how to fill in the find card yet?”

“Uhm, spoornummer, putnummer and date right? I don’t think the coup has multiple sporen,” Robin replies.

Bas nods, but says: “Don’t forget to tick off during what stage you found it and fill in the level and material,” he smiles kindly. “I’m assuming you gathered it was ceramic?”

Robin smiles back, though she’s sure it’s more awkward than she’d like. “Yeah, I had. I’ll go fill that in now.”

The find cards or vondstkaartjes, though Robin has a hard time pronouncing that, are pre-printed with a find number, so there won’t be accidental doubles with so many people writing them and have the project number pre-printed too. The rest have a blank space to fill in.

Robin fills it all in with the waterproof fine liner, very aware of Bas, who is leaning over her shoulder as she does. On one hand she is grateful that he’s checking that she doesn’t mess up the administration of the dig that will be used to interpret the site, on the other hand it is very stressful to have him there.

Relief courses through her when she is done and Bas nods: “Well done.”

Once Bas is gone, Steve leans over her shoulder to look at the card. He comments: “Your handwriting is shit, Buckley.”

“Oi,” she exclaims, pushing him a bit, but being careful, since he’s near his coup and she doesn’t want it to crumble.

Steve doesn’t even move, just gives her a wide grin, before handing back the sherd so she can put both it and the card into the bag, before she returns to clean up her coup. He’s still an annoying twat, Robin thinks, but it’s fond now.

On Tuesday of the third week, Robin arrives late, apologetically telling Jeroen: “I am so sorry, my train was delayed.”

“Don’t worry about it, OV screws everybody over from time to time. Not like you could help it,” Jeroen replies casually, like it’s alright and Robin recognizes OV as the Dutch short way of saying public transport. Living here for two years has her under the impression that public transport is amazing, especially compared with the USA, but she has heard a lot of Dutch students complain about it.

“Still, I’m sorry,” she repeats, unsure if she’s alright to go to work now.

“It’s no big deal, it’s not like you did what Sjors did,” he says, then calls out to one of the workers: “Ey, Sjors, tell Robin about that time your bus didn’t come and you decided to walk instead of wait for the next one, because you didn’t want to be late.”

“Fuck you, Jeroen,” Sjors calls back, though it’s goodnatured. Everyone seems pretty relaxed with one another, Robin has found, the camaraderie is nice.

“He was two hours late. If he’d taken the next bus, he would’ve been half an hour late,” Jeroen tells her with a chuckle. “Now I’m sure you know what to do?”

Robin nods furiously and is grateful when she’s dismissed, hurrying to grab a shovel from the shipping container functioning as storage shed, before hurrying to where the others are digging.

When she gets there, Steve immediately asks: “Where the hell were you?”

“My train was delayed,” Robin answers, trying to find a spoor to coup.

“Your train?” Steve frowns, confused. “You’re getting here by train?”

“Yeah, of course, dingus, I have to come all the way from The Hague, that’s a bit far by bike,” Robin rolls her eyes. “Not all of us have money for a car.”

“I don’t have a car,” Steve says.

“You don’t?”

“Nah, it’s actually more inconvenient when trying to navigate through the city. I’m glad cities back home were built for cars, those Dutch streets are small,” he shudders.

“So how the fuck are you getting here?”

“I bike?”

“What? All the way from your house? That’s on the other side of the country,” Robin exclaims, he must be pulling her leg.

“Of course not,” Steve says in an ‘are you stupid’-tone. “I’m staying at the camping nearby in one of those vacation homes.”

“Isn’t that like massively expansive?” Robin asks, not able to fathom doing that, even though it sounds way more convenient than what she is doing.

“I mean, a little bit yeah. Out here it’s less expensive than by the coast though, that’s for sure and it would be cheaper to stay in a tent, but with all the digging it’s nice to have your own shower, you know,” Steve shrugs. Then asks: “Have you really been coming by train every day?”

“Yeah. What else would I do?” Robin shoots back.

“Don’t you have to get up like crazy early then?” Steve asks, sounding horrified.

Robin can’t believe this: “Yes!”

“No wonder you’re so grumpy in the mornings,” Steve mutters.

“I am not grumpy,” Robin exclaims.

“You’re a little grumpy,” Astrid interrupts them, mortifying Robin. “Now you can dig and talk at the same time. If we go on like this, we might clear out put six a little ahead of schedule.”

They both quickly apologize and get back to digging as Robin silently mourns how unfair it is that she has to travel so long every day.

Once the break rolls around, she has gotten over the injustice a little, though she is pretty sure she’s never going to get fully over it. Steve won’t be a jerk anymore in her eyes unless he does something big, but she is reminded of their different wealth status again, something that has annoyed her about him in the past.

Which naturally means that Steve is going to surprise her again, since he lives to thwart her expectations for some reason. Because when he sits down next to her to share her sunscreen, since he always forgets, he offers: “You can also stay at the vacation home if you want. It’s not like the height of luxury, but it’s like half an hour by bike from here.”

“What?” Robin asks, unable to have a different reaction from the shock.

Steve blushes a little: “It already has two bedrooms, one is just empty right now, so it’s not like I would have to switch or anything and it’s way more convenient. But you obviously don’t have to, I just thought I’d offer, since I have the space.”

“I- uhm, I appreciate it, Steve, but I- well, I can’t really afford to pay half,” Robin admits, hating that fact, because money and her lack of it has always made her uncomfortable.

“You- you wouldn’t have to,” Steve tells her. “Uhm, I have a trust fund, which is such a douchy rich person thing, I know, but I mean, I don’t care if you don’t pay. I’m paying the same amount anyway. If it bugs you that much, you can help pay for groceries and help clean up so I get my deposit back.”

Unsure why she’s arguing with a bad thing, she says: “You don’t hate having people in your space?”

Steve looks a little pained and Robin is convinced he’s about to take it back, but then he squares his shoulders and replies: “Nah, and it’s just for a few weeks. No biggie.”

Robin considers it for a moment. If you’d asked her if she’d ever consider that offer two weeks ago, she would have called you crazy, but digging in the sun together is a bonding experience, especially when you’re the only two there that don’t speak the language.

Getting to stay in the vacation home would be super convenient. She’d get to sleep in more and not have to deal with public transport at ass o’clock in the morning. On top of that, she’d be able to shower off all the dirt sooner and not have to do all the housework alone.

However, what if she read Steve wrong? What if this is a move he’s pulling on her? She hasn’t known him that long and she thought him a dick before this, is sharing a small vacation home and thus being stuck with him 24/7 a smart move?

But she knows that’s not Steve. She can admit that she was wrong about him. He’s been nothing but nice and he seems to be genuine. If it all sucks, she can always pack up and leave, it’s not like she’s signing a contract.

“If you truly don’t mind me not paying, then that would be really nice, Steve,” she says after a small silence.

A big smile breaks out on Steve’s face, like he’s actually excited about it, but not in a creepy way. It is a bit like a puppy honestly. He says: “Great. I think it would be smart if you brought your bike with you on the train tomorrow and a bag for at least this week, you can always pick something up in the weekend if you forgot.”

“I will, thanks again,” Robin smiles back. Maybe this will be good for her. You know, making a closer connection to someone than ‘I see them around at the faculty’.

“Course,” Steve says, before starting up an inane topic and leading the conversation in a different direction.

The next day, Robin is a little nervous as she goes to work with her bike and big backpack with all her stuff. It’s early enough that the trains aren’t filled to the brim, so people aren’t that annoyed with her taking over the designated biking area in the trains.

She had to go earlier, because she can’t take the bike with her in the bus, so she has to ride her bike from the station instead of being able to take the bus and walk the last part. However, she doesn’t mind that much, since this will be the last super early morning of the dig (she has decided to be optimistic about living with Steve instead of listening to her anxiety. It’s not fool proof, but she pretends it is).

Still, she is still a little nervous when she arrives, fearing that Steve changed his mind or thinks she’s weird for even taking him up on it.

But when she gets there, Steve is also just arriving, giving her a big grin as he calls out: “Like your bike, Buckley, hope you can keep up with me on the way back.”

“I can bike faster than you, Harrington,” Robin yells back, unable to stop her smile. Steve is good at making her not worry, she hasn’t met many people, who can make her stop worrying.

“We’ll see about that,” he says, locking his bike and accompanying her to the shack – or keet as the others keep calling it – so she can put her bag down and have it be safe and locked away for the day.

Despite the moment, Robin feels a little awkward all day, somehow expecting Steve to tell her that of course he doesn’t actually want her there and that she is really weird for accepting it and packing a bag and bringing her bike all the way here.

So, when they finish out the day, locking everything into the shipping container to prevent theft, she hangs back, grabbing her bag slowly, so she won’t have to wait for Steve and be marked as weird and just know she was tricked, because he has already left.

However, that doesn’t happen, he’s happily waiting for her by their bikes, grinning: “Hopefully you’re not such a slow poke on the bike, you still have to out-bike me.”

A weight is lifted off her shoulders at that and she replies: “Don’t get too cocky over there. I’ve been biking to school since I was eleven.” It is not that big a flex, since most of the Dutch students she has met have been biking to school since they were four or five, however Steve is also American, so it might be impressive.

“You might have me there,” Steve agrees, like he didn’t used to be a star player back in high school (Robin knows, she has heard the bragging, though most of that was Tommy, another American student that she has pleasantly avoided for the most part, since he is studying law instead of archaeology).

But she ignores that and gloats more as she gets on her bike, speeding away from the construction site as Steve yells that she’s not playing fair and that they have to go left at the end of the street there.

She’s completely out of breath and only half a meter a head of Steve when she pulls onto the camping.

“Okay, okay, I concede, you bike fast,” Steve says, panting a little, before locking up his bike and chaining it to a tree next to a very small vacation home with a small little terrace.

“I am the reigning bike champion,” Robin exclaims, pretending to receive cheers, before going to lock her bike and get her bag.

Steve has already made his way to the door and is unlocking it, saying: “I have kind of given up on leaving the sand outside, so don’t worry about that. I’m just going to give it a good clean before we leave.”

Robin does like that he said I instead of we, however, she is raised better than that, so she says: “We are going to give it a good clean. I’m tracking way more sand.”

And it’s true. Robin doesn’t know how all the others manage to have a bit of sand on their legs while hers are always covered from the top of her work shoes to the bottom of her cargo short. But they are and she can’t figure out why only hers are when they’re all sitting in sand the whole day.

“Oh, you don’t have to, but thanks,” Steve smiles, before holding the door open for her, a move she would protest, had she not a heavy bag with her.

Steve follows her in and points to the doors as he rattles off: “My bedroom is there, bathroom is here and your room is there. We have a small kitchenette in the living room over there, but it’s so cramped that I usually chill outside. If you dump your stuff, you can have first dibs on the shower.”

She just nods along and thanks him again, not protesting the offer of first dibs, because she always feels gross and sweaty.

What Steve goes and does in that time, she doesn’t know, but she quickly liberates a towel and her shampoo as well as her body wash and a clean set of clothes, before going into the bathroom, which is as tiny as the rest of the vacation home.

The toilet practically touches the shower stall and the sink takes over most of the space outside the shower, so it’s very cramped. However, the water pressure could be worse, so Robin doesn’t complain.

She leaves her shower products on the little shelve in the shower next to Steve’s, a little surprised and curious to see his shower regimen, which is more elaborate than she’d expected out of him. But then again, he’s been surprising her all summer.

Robin finds Steve outside at the table there sans shoes and socks, just soaking in the air it seems. “I am done, shower’s free,” she tells him.

He startles a bit, but plays it off well and disappears into the home to take his shower. While he does that, Robin explores a little more.

As Steve had said, the living room is cramped as fuck. There is a small couch that can’t really hold two people and one counter, sink, oven-microwave and a mini-fridge. Nothing great. But taking a look inside, it does seem that Steve has actual meal ingredients, not microwave ones, which is good, because Robin’s parents have always stressed the importance of eating as much unprocessed and homemade food.

With her exploration done, she makes her way outside after grabbing her laptop. Steve is right, it’s way too nice to try and sit in that living room there.

When Steve is finally done with his shower, Robin is halfway through her daily report. Steve wordlessly joins her outside and opens up his own laptop, starting on his own work and checking the pictures he took that day for reference. Robin has to admit she hadn’t expected Steve to take it this seriously and she feels a bit bad as she realizes how judgmental she had been towards Steve.

That night Steve makes dinner, asking if Robin likes pasta. Robin can be picky about food, but isn’t going to make a fuss, fortunately Steve dissuades her fears as he says: “I am a picky eater, so it’s not going to be a culinary masterpiece. Hope you don’t mind.”

“I’m a picky eater too,” Robin says, a bit softly, because she has been taught to be embarrassed about it, though she feels a bit better about it when Steve deflates in relief and smiles at the comment.

“Twins,” Steve jokes, holding up his hand for a high-five.

Robin has never been the kind of person people want to high-five and she feels like there is a wrong answer as she slaps his hand, mercifully not missing. It feels weird, but nice to be included. Robin is really starting to like Steve. She hopes this whole cohabitation thing works out.

A/N:

It sucks when you don’t do a university internship and then you have to travel pretty far, I got lucky that I was able to borrow a car and I have family all over, but some people I know did camp, but in a tent, not fancy enough for a vacation home lol

#rr writing #stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #platonic stobin #stobin #archaeology #archaeologists stobin au #stobin au

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