It starts in Eddie's second senior year, close to the beginning of the semester. Eddie's in trig (again). He's good at math, but Mundy fucking sucks, always giving Eddie shit for breathing, or his shoes squeaking on the linoleum, or whatever, and he ends up with detention most days. So, he hardly ever shows and can't be bothered to do the homework, even though he knows the answers more often than not.
On this particular day, Mundy is in a bad mood, on Eddie's case way more than normal. In the heat of frustration, Eddie scrawls, "I fucking hate this class" on a scrap of notebook paper, and for reasons he can't begin to explain, leaves it folded on the window ledge. He doesn't think anyone will answer; fully expects the paper to be gone come morning with maybe another detention slip under his belt to show for it. He's a little flabbergasted, the next day, when the note is still there, and loses his mind a little when he sees the words "tell me about it" underneath his first message. He doesn't recognize the handwriting, sloping and a little looped, and for most of the class period, he's too bemused to respond. Right before the final bell rings he scrawls, "trig. You?" He leaves the paper on the ledge again. "Algebra 2 :(" is the response.
They keep it up, just a few words at first, before Eddie accidentally doodles on the page, and the other guy scribbles a hasty formula, the math spectacularly wrong. There's a little arrow leading to the words, "this shit sucks." Eddie re-writes the formula with the correct math, leaving careful notations of how and why. The next day he sees, "Shit, dude, I totally get this now. Mundy should retire and let you take over." Which pleases Eddie down to his core.
The messages get longer, nothing super personal, but complaints about life, math help, Eddie's silly little doodles, bad jokes, the slightly lewd drawings typical of teen boys. Eddie's never had a better attendance record in his life, but there are some days where his notes are left unopened. Most remarkably a couple week period before Thanksgiving, where he goes unanswered for so long he figures whatever thing they had going is done. But after the holiday, the notes start up again, with no acknowledgement they ever stopped. Eddie doesn't bother questioning it.
They keep it up almost all year, and they're definitely friends, even though they're totally anonymous. And that wouldn't have changed, except it's the day before spring break and Eddie's vibrating out of his skin with anticipation of the time off, so he forgets his dnd notebook in Mundy's class. He makes it all the way to Click's before he realizes, then sprints back across the school. He crashes through Mundy's door, tripping a little over his own feet.
"Sorry," he pants. "I just left--" he looks over to his desk, far corner right by the window, and then forgets every word he's ever known because Steve Harrington Steve Harrington King Steve, stares right back at him. And he just. He stops and fucking laughs, because all this time--this whole goddamn year--it's been Harrington he exchanged notes with. And sure, the jock's star has fallen in the last few months, with the breakup with Nancy and all that shit with Hargrove, but it's still Steve Harrington. With his big house and his fancy car and his girls. It's pretty Steve Harrington, the focus of Eddie's most hopeless daydreams.
He has a few seconds to see Harrington's hazel eyes go wide, before Eddie spins on his heel and makes a hasty exit. He absolutely doesn't spend the break thinking about the notes, matching what Harrington wrote with the gossip Eddie heard on him from the past few months.
Once break ends, he doesn't bother going to Mundy's class at all.
The Friday of the first week back, Eddie walks out to his van, only to find King Steve leaning up against it. He's doing that obnoxious thing where he has one leg bent, foot resting against the side panel, arms crossed over his chest, stupid hair falling in glorious cascades around his face. It's ridiculously, unfairly attractive.
"What do you want?" Eddie asks. He opens his front door without fully looking at Steve.
"Can we talk?"
Eddie snorts, "what could you and I possibly have to talk about."
Steve narrows his eyes. It's so bitchy and so fucking cute it makes Eddie queasy. "You know what."
"Enlighten me, Harrington."
"C'mon, man, the notes!"
"What about them?
"Don't be stupid, Munson, you know what. Why'd you stop?"
Eddie pulls a pack of camels and his lighter out of his jacket pocket. "Lost its appeal once I knew who was on the other side. Surprised you even want to keep it up now that you know you've been writing to the freak."
He pointedly ignores the little jolt Harrington gives at that, like the words hurt. Which is pretty rich from Steve Harrington, former #1 bully of Hawkins High.
"I've always known it was you," he says.
"You don't--wait what?"
I've known since, like, the first week, Munson."
"How??"
"What do you mean 'how,' dude, you're always drawing little pentagrams and d20's. Writing the word "Slayer" over and over. Who else would it be?"
And he can't even deal with the fact that Harrington knows what a d20 is (what the fuck) with everything else the other boy just said.
"I gotta go," is his only response. He ducks into his van, slamming the door basically in Harrington's face, before peeling out of the parking lot.
✏️✏️✏️✏️
It's the last day of school. Eddie's failed again. His grades, which weren't great to begin with, took a sharp nosedive after spring break, and he just can't wait to be done with this place for a few months. Harrington hasn't spoken to him again, and Eddie tries his hardest to ignore the other boy (aside from seeing him hanging out with Robin Buckley, a junior and a band geek, besides, and he forcibly has to remind himself that he doesn't care what Harrington does).
He slouches into his last math class of the year, slumping over in his seat. He rests his head on his desk, eyes blankly staring out the window as Mundy talks about what a joy most of them were to have in class. His eyes are unfocused, he contemplates a nap, and then he sees it. The tightly folded piece of paper resting on the window ledge.
Eddie almost doesn't take it. He almost ignores it, but he physically can't stop himself for reaching for it, unfolding it, staring at Harrington's now familiar handwriting.
Hey man, I'm pretty sure I fucked things up with us, and I owe you an apology. I've always known who you were, but you had no idea I was me. Buckley helped me see how that maybe freaked you out a little. I know I used to be a piece of shit. But I'm better--or I'm trying to be. And I'm so fucking sorry for the shit I did to you before and the things I didn't bother to stop. You don't owe me forgiveness, but you should know that I regret all of it. I liked passing notes with you. You made me laugh, and I don't know. It was nice to think someone liked me for reasons other than that I'm Steve Harrington, or whatever. I'd really like it if we could be friends. I get if you can't do that or don't want to.
Whatever the note actually ended with is scribbled out in pen so thick Eddie can't make it out.
All day he thinks about the note, the apology, all of it. Eddie thinks, if he's smart, he won't forgive Harrington. That he knows better than to trust him. But Eddie's never actually been that smart in this way, so he's not totally surprised to find himself walking to Steve's car after the last bell rings.
This time, Eddie's the one with his foot resting on the side panel of Steve's BMW, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn't have to wait long before Harrington makes his way to the car, chestnut hair dancing in the breeze, biceps on display in a short-sleeve polo. A little smile dances across his lips when he spots Eddie.
"So, you gonna tell me how you know what a d20 is, Harrington, or do I have to guess?" Eddie offers the other boy a cigarette.
"Babysitting?
"Babys--Are you serious??" Eddie splutters. Steve Harrington babysits. Steve Harrington babysits little dnd playing nerds. Steve Harrington wants to be his friend.
A full grin spreads across Steve's perfect face and Eddie is absolutely, 100%, fucked.
Probably something to be learned by everyone watching stories about younger versions of themselves on television. But the Quebec school has everyone doing that "What I did during my Summer Vacation" assignment -- I don't remember ever having that one.
I remember round about fourth or fifth grade, a school assembly, I think designed to implant some idea of "think about the future a little, kids", someone talking about attending college, and she takes questions from the audience. So one of my classmates raises her hand, and she asks the very pertinent question "Are you allowed to pass notes in college?" A sign of the different universes of concerns everyone inhabited.
He walked toward the classroom. A few minutes earlier, he had overheard the teacher say there would be a quiz today.
“Wonderful… If I fail this one too, I won’t be able to explain it to my family.”
He needed to find someone to cheat from. He paused at the door and threw a casual glance at the students inside. His eyes landed on the class nerd. Definitely a no. He would never let anyone copy. Cross him off. How about the class president?
“He’s on good terms with everyone, maybe he won’t mind…”
That optimistic thought vanished as soon as he remembered where the guy sat—way too far.
He considered his best friend. He sat right behind him, in the last row. Easy access. But nope. Not smart enough. He walked to his seat with a growing sense of despair, mentally ranking everyone’s academic usefulness.
As he passed the second row, a girl caught his eye.
If only he could convince her…But they’d never really gotten along. She’d never agree to help.
Unless…
Unless his best friend, Aras, was involved. And everyone knew she was into Aras. For like, two years now.
“Then again, what girl isn’t into Aras?”
He was exaggerating. Sure, Aras was popular, but most girls were over him because of his indifferent attitude. But still… things were different when it came to Aras.
Everything was different.
That’s when the light bulb went off in his head. A perfect idea. He smiled and sat down. He turned to Aras.
“There’s a quiz today.”
Aras looked at him silently.
“I’ve got it covered,” he said, flashing a smug little grin.
“How?” Aras asked, curious and a little wary.
“You just have to back me up.”
“What are you planning?”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“No.”
Ouch. That was fast. He felt the need to explain.
“We’re going to use Melisa.”
Aras raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. Just then, the teacher entered the room. Conversation over. But before turning to face the front, he winked at Aras. He tore a page from his notebook and scribbled something random:
“Melisa, your haircut looks amazing. Where’d you get it done?”
He handed it to the guy in front. “Pass this to Melisa. Tell her Aras sent it.”
The message made its way forward. The last student passed it to the girl with a hint of confusion.
When it finally reached Melisa, she hesitated. Then looked back at Aras. Aras looked right back.
After she turned forward, he started rubbing his head like he was annoyed, he lightly punched the guy in front of him—not hard, just enough to get his attention.
“You’re messing around again,” he muttered, “but if this goes to shit, I’m making you pay for it.”
The teacher started roll call.
The response had already arrived. He pretended to pass it to Aras but sneakily read it himself first.
“Thank you! My cousin's a hairstylist, I can take you there if you want! =)”
He couldn’t stop grinning. What a naïve girl. Aras would never say something like that. But of course, Melisa didn’t know him well enough to notice. He glanced at her again. She had turned forward, rested her head on one hand, and was now twirling her hair. He nearly laughed out loud. He had to cover his mouth.
“I’d love to—if there’s a discount. =)”
He scribbled and passed the note again. The teacher had finished roll call and was signing some papers.
Another reply came:
“Don’t be silly! My cousin won’t charge you. You’re my friend, after all!”
“Sure,” he thought. “I bet your cousin gives all your friends free haircuts…”
Aras was poking him from behind. He turned and saw Aras giving him a thumbs-up, whispering:
“If you drag me into this, I swear you’re dead.”
Stupid Aras. If it were him, he’d totally use Melisa. Life at school was just one problem after another. The teacher’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
“We’ll be doing the quiz during second period.”
“Perfect timing,” he thought. He started writing:
“Teacher's doing a test. Did you stu…”
Before he could finish, another note arrived.
“Did you study for the quiz?”
He was surprised. He knew Melisa would help Aras if he asked, but this was even before that. For a second, he felt bad. Maybe he shouldn’t have used her like that? Then he thought about his parents. Two seconds later, the guilt was gone.
“Nope. You?”
He sent it off. Then turned to Aras.
“Quiz is handled. Start thinking about how you’ll thank me.”
Aras was spinning his pen. “We’ll see.”
A moment later, another note from Melisa arrived:
“I’ll write the answers on a tissue and pass it to you during the quiz!”
He grabbed the note and showed it to Aras. “Boom. Done!”
He had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “At least say thank you to the girl…”
For a while, Aras stared at the note, then smacked the guy in front of him on the back of the head.
“Give me all the notes!”
“I threw them away!”
Aras grabbed his hair and pulled—nearly slammed the poor guy’s head into the desk.
“I said give them!”
“Alright, alright, don’t freak out!”
Aras started reading through all the notes. When he finished, he rubbed his forehead and let out a long sigh. Then he patted the guy’s shoulder.
Little Steddie WIP for a fic that I'm making up as I go. See where the flowing vibes steer me. (Point of time is 1984. Thinking note passing. Thinking different first meeting. Thinking of friends to lovers to strangers to lovers again.)
Now as a full chapter Here!
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Steve picks up a little piece of paper that somebody shoved inside the grates of his locker door. It's folded, crumpled, creased and stained. He glances around. If the messenger just left this, they must still be around, right? At the bathrooms, nobody stands. Or at the narrow opening that floods into the main hall of Hawkins High. Or even peeking from under the stairwell. He runs his thumb over the paper. It's soft, most likely worn down from being held onto for so long. From being in somebody's pocket. Pressed up against the radiating warmth from their naked thigh. Possibly held between their fingers, twirling and folding in the gaps.
Does he open it? He's curious, he should. But what if it's another one of Tommy's pranks, which have increased tenfold since they stopped being friends. What if it's Carol giving him a fill-in on gossip he no longer wants a slice of? Or...What if it's Nancy apologizing? He shakes his head at that. What does she have to apologize for, he questions himself. If anybody should say sorry, it would be me.
Basketball practice is in ten minutes. He's got his sweatbands on. Retied his sneakers. Changed into shorts and a particularly revealing muscle tank. Slathered on deodorant, lip balm, and baby powder to prevent chafing on his thighs. He's ready to go. Gotta go, he hastily thinks.
But...
The note. Somebody left it just for him.
Oh, but what if it's to tease him? To poke fun at the fact that he lost his girlfriend to somebody the whole school deems as his rival. To laugh at the new cut near his hairline, pink and puckered, laughing at his inability to fight back (parents teach their kids the damndest things). From that insufferable guy, Billy, that's barreled in through town from California and shoved him on the spikes of his King Steve crown. From that band girl with choppy strawberry blonde hair that's always too observant. From somebody else...somebody who wants to see him bend over, gasp for air that's too sharp and fleeting, and cry with nothing else to do.
He blearily thinks, Fuck it. He thinks, Men don't cry. Though the voice is his father's and they're almost the same in intonation, does it matter who's ridiculing him? He thinks, I just want to go home and rest.
It unfolds without him willing. The paper still soft, not yet agitating his palms. Gently torn around the edges. Blue pen glowing up at him. He takes a breath and reads.
"You seem haunted. But you're lovely. I hope you find peace soon, Steve.
-E.M."
Steve's watch beeps at him. Time to shoot some hoops. And all the while he will think, Who the hell is E.M.?
--------
Is this anything? Let me know, because I think it is.
Robin’s tired. So goddamn tired. Like the soul was physically sucked out of her body and all that was left was this mess of a blob that she had to carry around all day tired. She hates it. Hates the feeling of just getting through the day just to go home and try to sleep, but never succeeds.
It hasn’t been this bad in a while. Not since July. But at least then she had more of an excuse. Then she was taken by Russians and tortured, heard Steve’s screams through the long hallway of the bunker. Now, what does she have to say? She willingly jumped into an alternate dimension portal to save her friend and willingly went back again to kill an evil wizard. She didn’t see the visions her friends did, didn’t watch her friends almost die. No, she came out unscathed, just mild horrors to be seen. The sleepless night shouldn’t be happening.
But they are. Have been ever since that first night after spring break. Waking in a cold sweat, immediately calling her friends to know that they were ok. Resigning herself to only getting the amount of sleep she did or sneaking out her window to go to Steve’s. That way when one of them had a nightmare, they might actually be able to sleep after that. She can’t rely on him as much as she wants, especially if she wants him to have any semblance of a life. But she just can’t help it.
He’s never said anything about it, always willing to drop anything to come make sure she was ok. Not like he was doing anything either, just laying alone in that giant house of his. But now that Eddie’s been released from the hospital, they’ve been spending more time together, Steve helping him through the nightmares. And she sees the way they look at each other, she knows that something’s going to happen between them too, even if they can’t see it yet.
So she has to learn how to do things on her own sometimes. She can still rely on him if she needs it, he isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He just might need some space and nights alone, meaning that Robin would have to start being alone. If only that thought alone didn’t terrify her.
She walks into the bathroom and is met with the giant bags under her eyes. Barely having the energy to even get dressed in the morning, it’s not like she has the energy to cover them up. Her mom asks her questions, and her dad gets worried. All she could tell them were lies, that it was just nerves about some test or college applications, and that’s why she couldn’t sleep. She splashes some cold water on her face, trying anything to keep her awake for three more periods.
Slowly she makes her way to her next class and prays that she won’t fall asleep.
. . .
Nancy is walking to her next class when she spots Robin. Hunched over, clutching books close to her chest, and shuffling into the classroom. She looks like she hasn’t gotten any sleep at all, Nancy knows the feelings. It’s not like she’s been able to sleep that well the last few weeks. She’s just had four years of practice to make sure no one knew it was happening. It would go away soon, she knows. Slowly compartmentalizing in her mind until the memories fade away, only to haunt her again when she doesn’t want them to.
But Robin, she’s still new to this. Sure there was the summer, but that was only once. It took Nancy three times around to be able to train her mind to forget the images that plagued her mind. And even then it wasn’t perfect.
There were always people that Nancy could rely on though. Steve and Jonathan when she was dating them, and sometimes even Mike when they both needed someone to talk to. Someone was always there to help her fall back asleep, assure her that she was safe, and that they were okay.
Does Robin have anyone to do that? Nancy assumes she has Steve, but it’s not like they live that close. And they’re not dating, so it’s not like they would spend that many nights together. She can’t imagine what Robin would do, climb out her window and bike all the way to Steve’s, or call him and he then drive over to her. Time spent in panic when someone could already be there to calm her down.
Nancy wants to be there for Robin. They live a lot closer and could have sleepovers on nights when one of them just needed someone to help get them through the night. But she hasn’t had time.
Ever since the “earthquake” the school paper has had endless stories. Student testimonials and memorials. News about the repairs and charity drives. A constant reminder of what they didn’t stop quite in time.
Because of that, Nancy hasn’t had time to think about herself, let alone someone else. The stories are slowing down and life is returning to normal. Meaning that she should be too, or at least trying to. That way she could focus on her future and get through the rest of the year. Finally leave Hawkins behind and start the next part of her life, away from danger.
After the bell rings, Nancy sees Robin again, half asleep wandering through the halls. She wants to go up to her, ask her if she’s alright. If maybe she wants to come over after school and take a nap knowing that someone is there to protect her. It’s what Nancy would want Robin to do, so why can’t she do it herself?
Maybe it’s because she and Robin don’t know each other that well. They hung out a lot during spring break, but how much can you really learn about a person while saving the world? That doesn’t stop her from wanting to get to know her more. Somewhere along the line, she and Robin bonded. Maybe Nancy could have a best friend again, she just has to take the first step.
Robin stops, exchanging a book in her locker before walking through the hall again. Nancy tries to speed up and catch her, but she misses her in seconds. Looking at the locker at her right, she gets an idea. Ripping out a page of her notebook, she writes a note and pushes it through the slits of the locker, hoping that Robin responds.
. . .
Robin,
Hey, I just wanted to check up on you. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to hang out that much, I’ve been really busy with the newspaper. We have so many stories to write about the “earthquake” that I’ve been working overtime just to get all of them edited. Really it’s so annoying, especially since we know what happened. I just want to go back to writing stories about the mystery meat, as much as it pains me to say that.
But anyway. I really did just want to check up on you. Our schedules don’t really align that much but when I pass you in those halls, you look so alone. Not to say that you don’t have friends or anything. But I know that feeling of just wanting to isolate yourself after what happens, and I know you have Steve to help deal with all of this but, I guess I just wanted to make sure that you knew you could talk to me too.
I’ll leave my number on the bottom in case you don’t have it. Please feel free to call me anytime, really. I want to be there for you.
From,
Nancy
(P.S., my locker number is A350 if you want to respond. No pressure though!)
Robin reads the letter that fell out of her locker again, shocked that it isn’t some prank. The first thought that crossed her mind was that it was some jock who just wanted to poke fun at the band geek who looked like shit. Not like it’s unheard of.
However, when she opened the letter and read it, she smiled instead of balling it up and throwing it away. It’s the first time she’s heard from Nancy in weeks. Ever since school started up again, Robin would see her running through the halls from class to class, and then right to the newspaper room during lunch and after school. She thought that Nancy had forgotten about her, but she was wrong.
The last bell rings for the day and Robin curses under her breath, stuffing her bag full of books before booking it to the parking lot, Steve waiting for her like always.
“No offense, but you look like shit,” he says as she slides into the passenger seat.
“How anyone fell for your charm, I will never know.”
He pulls out of the parking lot. “Eh, after school doesn’t really work all that much anymore. But uh- seriously. Have you been sleeping?”
Robin yawns. “I’m fine.”
“That’s not what I asked. You look like you haven’t slept in weeks. I’m worried about you, you haven’t called that much and you can barely walk to the car when I pick you up. I just- I just want you to know that I’m still here, if you need to talk about it, that’s all.”
“I know. I just didn’t want you to come over as much and I can’t keep biking to your place in the middle of the night.”
Steve turns, taking the longer way to her house as he does every day so they can talk more. “Then call me, we can just fall asleep on the phone like we used to.”
“Aren’t you a little preoccupied now,” She switches the conversation, getting the spotlight off of her.
“The hell does that mean?”
“I mean that you and Eddie have been spending a lot of nights together.”
He pauses, not immediately biting back. “He’s been having a tough time with everything ok, that’s it.”
Robin hums disbelievingly. “Uh huh, sure. Let me know when that changes.”
She digs through her backpack to find her water bottle and stumbles upon the note Nancy left in her locker. If she had another five minutes, she would have responded. Pulling it out, she looks at it, reading through the words again.
“What’s that?” Steve asks as he turns down her street.
“Nancy left me a note in my locker, checking in on me.”
He parks in front of her house. “That’s nice. You going to respond?”
“I think so. It’d be nice to have someone else to talk about all of this, you know.”
“Yeah I know,” he nods. “Call me, ok. Don’t just think you have to go through this alone. No matter what, you still have me, ok.”
Robin nods. “Yeah, I know. And I will. Promise.”
When she gets to her room, she basically falls on her bed, debating if she should take a nap. But it might be the only sleep she gets tonight, so it’d be best to do it later. Looking at the letter in her hand again, she decides to write a response.
. . .
Dear Nancy,
How thoughtful of you to check up on little ole me. I should be the one checking up on you. So how dare you getting to it first.
In all seriousness though, I’ve been ok, I guess. I haven’t really been sleeping, which is why I look like complete shit all the time. But it’ll go away soon. I hope at least. Steve has been spending a lot of time helping Eddie out, so I haven’t been able to lean on him as much as I did after the summer. It’s been kind of weird going through this sort of alone. But I guess I’m not anymore, 'cause I have you.
I figured you were busy with the newspaper. I would see you running through the halls right past me, not even saying a quick hello. I don’t blame you for missing me, not like I was trying to stand out anyway. We should hang out, sometimes. If you have time, that is. I don’t really have a lot of friends, especially those who I can talk to about this. What I’m trying to say is that it would be nice, I think.
So uh, here’s my number in case you don’t have it. We’re the only Buckley’s in town though so if you need to, we’re in the book.
Your friend,
Robin
(P.S. Also, thought it would be funny to greet and sign these letters as they would back then. You know, for laughs and shit.)
(P.P.S I know you already have my locker number, but it’s B102 if you forgot)
Nancy smiles as she reads the letter, immediately pulling out a piece of paper and writing a response.
I will start a tag list if anyone is interested. This will be multiple parts, I'm thinking somewhere between 5-10.
We Just Got A Letter, Wonder Who It’s From?: sun x moon x monty
yes the title is the letter song from blues clues. sequel to Slide Into Fun! but can be read by itself
a daycare kid passes a note to sun and moon
glittergolf week event
day 2: Arts and Crafts/ Gifts
story under the read more
We Just Got A Letter, Wonder Who It’s From? (also on ao3)
“Ok kids, it’s almost time to get ready for naptime!“ Sun called out, clapping his hands together to get their attention. “Put away your toys and get your sleepy time stuff from the cubbies. Inderpreet! Terrion! No pushing, please!“
“Hmm?“ Sun looked down to see Rolden tugging on his pants. Well this was a surprise. They were one of the shyer kids in the daycare since their older brother, Jamie, had hit the age limit.
“Hello friend! Didja need something from me, Starshine? If you have a question for Moonie, I promise he’ll be out in a jiffy so-“ Rolden shook their head.
“No?” They started digging through their satchel, not letting go of his leg. “What’re you- Oh!“ Rolden thrust a green envelope into his faceplate. Sun gasped. “What’s this? A letter? For us??“
Rays spinning excitedly, Sun tilted his head. “Oooohhh, I wonder what it says!“
“Ah.“ Wowie! Contact and verbal communication? Today must be their lucky day if Rolden was being so open! “Jamjam.“
“Jamie gave you this letter?“ Rolden nodded. “Aaww, that’s so sweet of him to write us a letter.“
Rolden shook their head.
“He didn’t write the letter?“ They nodded again and made a few motions. “Someone gave the letter to Jamie to give to you to give to us?“ Rolden smiled and ducked their head, nodding.
Sun was confused, he could feel Moon pressing in the back of their subconscious, curious about the contents of the letter.
“Thank you for delivering it to us, friend!” The animatronic took a sticker from their chest plate and handed it to them. “You did a great job, go ahead and get ready for naptime and Moonie’ll give you a Moondrop before you sleep.“
Sun looked at the letter in his hands. “This is so interesting, huh, Moonie? We never ever get letters! At least none that come in envelopes.“
‘Hmmm. Looks sus.‘ Moon joked, squinting at the letter through Sun’s eyes. Sun laughed, walking over to the light switch once he saw everyone had settled down. “Let’s read it once everyone’s asleep, I don’t think I can wait until closing!“
“Agreed.“
Sun flipped the switch and let Moon out. “Hello, little comets. What story would you like today?“
Once everyone had fallen asleep, Moon called his cable and flew up to their balcony. Digging out a flashlight under one of the staffbot torsos, he took out the envelope and opened it with a pair of safety scissors.
Unfolding the letter revealed a stack of Monty themed stickers that fluttered to the floor. Moon’s face plate rotated once, twice, before he picked them up. “Monty?“
‘Read the letter! Read the letter!!‘ Sun urged, practically vibrating in their headspace.
“Shoosh, I’m getting to it.“ Moon stuffed the merch into their chestplate and looked at the letter. Inside was a poorly drawn picture of his and Sun’s faces on golf themed stationary, and another picture under that one but of Sun, Moon, and Monty playing golf. Moon squinted, tilting his head.
“Thx for the candy, got u parmesan (does he mean permission?) to leave daycare if u gays- wait no, that says ‘guys’, wanna learn how to golf. -Monty“
‘YEEEEE!! HE GOT US PERMISSION TO LEAVE THE DAYCARE!!! ACCEPT! ACCEPT! HOW DO WE SAY YES, MOONIE?!?!‘
“Wow, his spelling is terrible.“ Moon scoffed playfully. “And he called us the dorks.“
‘We’ll think about his spelling later! How do we tell him yes?!?!‘
“Calm down, Sunny. We can just ask Rolden to pass a message back. Or just message Monty ourselves, but this would be more fun, don’t you think?“ Moon ‘smirked‘, one hand on their elbow, the other holding their cheek in a thinking pose.
“Oooohhh!! Yes yes yes yes!! We should write him back, it’s only polite.“
And with that, Moon returned to his post, the two of them sharing ideas for their rough draft to Monty.
if you weren’t sure what happened, Monty made a note, stuffed it in a letter, and gave it to Jamie (he/him), who gave it to Rolden (he/they), who gave it to Sun and Moon
Jamie grew up and is too old to be registered in the daycare, they are Rolden’s older sibling
Rolden is a shy and quiet kid, they are the younger sibling of Jamie and used to be afraid of other people including Sun and Moon unless Jamie was there with them
Monty got the higher ups to somehow get Sun and Moon ungrounded, they can now leave the daycare without needing a reason (eg: emergency, patrol, field trips etc.)
ever since first year, Remus and Sirius have passed notes in class. it started as just a way to pass the time for a boring hour, somewhere to discuss their newest prank ideas, silly little jokes and plans. eventually, though there was no clear point where it transitioned from innocence to hopeless love, it became something much more. they’d write each other little notes that just stayed between the two of them, compliments, funny nicknames they wouldn’t share with James or Peter.
the day that the vagueness of their friendship ended, it was a note passed in class that confirmed it. Sirius spent a good half hour with his head down in concentration, before slipping a piece of parchment over to Remus beside him. opening it carefully, he was met with a simple question: ‘Hogsmeade this weekend? Just u and me?’
another note in reply, ‘As long as you take me to Honeydukes.’
‘I’d do anything for you.’
