#tune in next time for jopper

[girbirty]

casual bisexual WIN!

[writingjoycebyers]

A/N: Heyyy ! I was in the mood for some Jopper heartbreak, based on my own ideas and not on a prompt. I‘d appreciate any constructive feedback. My inbox and dm‘s are open <3 Enjoy!!! xx writingjoycebyers

JOPPER AU - Gave you all the best years of my life - A one shot songfic

idea based on the song „Rock & Roll I gave you the best years of my life“, gif source at the end

Rating: Mature - heartbreak (sorry!),very slightly nsfw, serious case of romantic simping.

I can still remember when I bought my first guitar

Remember walking from the shop to put it proudly in my car

„It‘s so pretty!“, Joyce said, her small hand wandering across the wooden guitar that was securely stored in her lap. Hop was steering the car, carefully eyeing his best friend as she held his new treasure, his baby.

„So what songs are you gonna try first?“, she asked curiously. She knew Hopper had been practicing with some guitars at school for some time already, and she loved the sparkle in his eyes whenever he was playing. The shiny blue, the happiness radiating from his gaze whenever he could fiddle a tune. The light in his eyes and smile had grown to no end when just fifteen minutes ago he had fulfilled his dream of buying his own guitar finally - a graduation gift from his parents, they had given him the money to go and choose the instrument of his dreams. „You never can tell.“, he said. „Chuck Berry.“

Hopper smiled over at her for a second before putting his eyes back on the road. „Dunno, there‘s so much great music. Maybe even write a song myself?“, he said with a proud smirk, eyeing the dark brown six string. Joyce chuckled, he looked at the guitar as if he was in love, as if the guitar was a very pretty girl. And yeah, he probably was in love with it, with music. Joyce found his passion beautiful as they drove through the Indiana summer afternoon, the car‘s windows down and freedom lurking around the corner, graduation just a few days away. She felt light and free, safe and in place with her best friend by her side. Her best friend - Jim Hopper, who looked at a guitar the way she sometimes wished he‘d look at her. She turned the radio up and held the guitar tight as Hopper had to stop at a traffic light on their way home. She could not wait to hear him play.

___________

And my family listened fifty times to my two song repertoire

I told my Mom her only son was gonna be a star

A week before graduation Joyce was at the Hopper‘s for dinner. It was past nine already and they were all out in the Hopper‘s large backyard - her, Jim and his parents. Dinner was long eaten and the sun had gone down when Joyce sat on a garden bench next to Elaine, Jim‘s mother. She felt so at home with them, sometimes even more at home than at her own place, with her mother barely there, chasing her lovers around the state, and her father having left a few years ago, to start a new family and leaving his first born daughter behind in Hawkins, Indiana. Joyce had grown into the Hopper household without anyone actively noticing, being around a few times a week for homework, dinner or just to hang out with Jim after school.

Elaine squeezed Joyce‘s hand tightly as Jim played a tune on his guitar in the dark of the garden, the warm summer night around their bodies as Jim‘s dad went inside to get another beer. Hop's mother held Joyce‘s hand even tighter in a moment she saw Jim giving Joyce a smile whilst playing. The blonde woman leaned over to Joyce and whispered into her ear, making Joyce Horowitz, tough as she normally was, blush like crazy.

„You two would make such a sweet couple. I say it again and again.“

Joyce looked at Elaine next to her with her dark, deep eyes, giving her an insecure smile.

„He talks about you all the time“, she added, shrugging her shoulders as Joyce giggled sheepishly. There was some truth in the elder woman‘s words, and although Joyce and her had had some heart to heart talks in the past, they were just crossing a new line. Neither Hop nor Joyce had actively confessed any feelings, but Joyce knew the tingling feeling in her gut became harder to ignore with every hug, with every funny car ride, with every hang out at Lover‘s Lake. She just had not thought it was that obvious, especially not to Hopper‘s mother.

Later that night, Jim‘s parents had long gone to bed, the two friends ended up on that bench, the guitar on the bench on Jim‘s left, his all time best friend close to him on his right. They talked about music, dreams and the future, as suddenly her head dropped down on his shoulder, and his strong arm found his way around her shoulders a few minutes later. The guitar was forgotten for that night, their minds focussed on each other as they held each other tight long into the night.

_________________

Well I bought all the Beatles records, sounded just like hall

Or Buddy Holly or Chuck Berry's, seventy-eight in all

And I sat by my record player playing every note they played

I watched them all on TV, copied every move they made

The days before graduation, Hopper had nothing left to do for school. Joyce was busy preparing prom night with some other girls, having joined the committee earlier this year, so he did not get to see much of her. He did find something to occupy himself with, drowning in music as he usually did, though he found his mind wandering off more often then not, to the moment on that bench, her small hand in his, her smell, her smile. Every Chuck Berry song would make him day dream about swirling her around on the dancefloor on Prom Night, every Beach Boys song would make him see her in a sundress in the California Sun.

Oh, Rock'n'Roll I gave you all the best years of my life

All the dreamy sunny Sundays, all the moonlit summer nights

California. Frisco. A stupid little dream they had developed together. He‘d write songs and she‘d work in a café or a bookshop, enjoying life for some time before she wanted to enter college, before he‘d maybe get a contract for his own songs, make a record. It was a stupid little dream, but Joyce in a sundress - he could imagine that.

I was so busy in the bed room, writing love songs to you

She was at school preparing Prom, and he was glued to the TV, watching a Beatles concert as he tried some new tunes. Her birthday was coming up too, and he was planning on giving her a special present, on finally spilling the details about his hidden feelings for her. Joyce in a sundress, was that a good title for a song?

But you were changing your direction and I never even knew

That I was always just one step behind you

Joyce was at school, helping with the chairs and tables to set up the gym for Prom as her friend Karen approached her. Joyce was busy unfolding some chairs and the girls chatted for a bit. Karen would bring her boyfriend Ted to Prom, a guy who was in college already, and so the talk of college began. Karen was surprised when she heard Joyce, bookish little Joyce with the good grades, would take a gap year, work or maybe even go to California for some time, enjoy life and not study, like she usually did.

„I always thought college was your number one dream, Joy.“, Karen smiled. „Seems like love changes us all.“, she smirked, hinting on Joyce‘s plan to follow Hopper to the coast for some time.

Without really wanting it, it made Joyce think. Was it his dream or hers? Could they really dream together? Oh, she was probably just confused with prom around the corner. Typical teenage angst - she‘d do the right thing, they‘d always done the right thing - together.

_________________________

On Prom night, Jim Hopper kissed Joyce Horowitz on the mouth as they danced in the crowd, bodies sweaty and limbs exhausted from all the dancing and standing, hands entangled at their sides as the world around the, the students, the lights, the music, went silent. That night, Joyce Horowitz and Jim Hopper turned from friends to lovers, ending their night in his small bed, kissing each other with a curiosity that kept them awake til the early morning hours, When the sun went up, he showed her his song for her, and she laughed, embarassed and touched by his sudden rush of feelings, as she went to grab his small pocket knife.

Ever since then, J.H. & J.H. was carved into the back of his wooden guitar, a sign lasting over time, a sign lasting longer than they would, and longer than Jim Hopper would own his first guitar.

__________________________

Prom week and the summer flew by, and Jim Hopper and Joyce Horowitz from Hawkins, Indiana packed their bags and took his old truck up north to California, up north into a new life. She found it thrilling really, a perfectly romantic adventure as she watched him drive into the sunrise the day they left their hometown, before falling asleep beside him in the passenger seat of his car, feeling safe and sound with no thoughts of the future. There was no work, no college, no money - There was just J.H. & J.H.

Well, sixty-six seemed like the year I was really goin' somewhere

I was living in San Francisco wearing flowers in my hair

Singing songs of kindness so the world would understand

The guys and me thought wer were more than just another band

Five months later Jim had found a decent band to play with, working the nights in a beach bar as the boys covered songs of the most popular artists of the time. He worked the nights, she worked the days in a cafe by the sea, and quickly, J.H. & J.H. began to miss each other terribly. They lived together, sharing a small room in an appartment complex, but they seldomly got to really be together.

Joyce would sometimes go to the bar at night, and she still loved to hear him play and sing, but so did many other women. She preferred the nice and quiet of her room way too often, cuddled up next to the record player, imagening it was him singing her a song in his parents‘ garden in good old Hawkins, Indiana.

Oh, Rock'n'Roll I gave you all the best years of my life

All the crazy, lazy young days, all the magic moony nights

I was so busy on the road, singing love songs to you

But you were changing your direction and you never even knew

That I was always just one step behind you

It was another saturday night when she was occupying a small table in the last corner of the bar, reading a book despite the place being loud and crowded, as suddenly a guy approached the empty chair next to her.

„Good evening, young lady, is that seat taken?“, the tall man asked. He was wearing a leather jacket, and his hair was styled with a lot of gel. „My name is Lonnie, by the way.“

Jim Hopper eyed the scene from the other end of the room, singing some Elvis Presley love song as he saw the spark in his girlfriend‘s eyes be rekindled by the words of another man.

__________________________________

The door fell into it‘s lock with the familar click Joyce had not forgotten in the nine months she had been away from her home in Hawkins, Indiana. „Yeah, this is it.“, she smiled, walking around the empty first floor. Not much had changed, and her mother wasn‘t even there. „Lon?“, she asked, as she did not get a response to her little house tour, realising her boyfriend was still outside carrying their bags from the car to the house.

As he walked in, she smiled at him, and kissed him sweetly. He let the bags drop to the floor and she felt his hands wrap around her waist as their kiss intensified with every breath. She was glad to be home.

„My old room‘s upstairs.“, she whispered. He followed her, and she opened the wooden door to the small space under the roof, a room from another life. A life where she had a picture of Hop and here hanging on the wall next to her door. J.H. & J.H. She swallowed hard as she saw it, quickly placing herself in front of it before Lonnie could see it. Her heart began to race, and it wasn‘t because of the way Lonnie‘s hands were exploring her sides now, as they made their way to the bed.

As they let their bodies drop onto the bed, her pulse had calmed down a little. It was J.H. & L.B. now.

______________________

Five years later, J.H. & L.B. have become J.B. & L.B. - It‘s a rainy sunday afternoon and she‘s in the kitchen, making tea as the TV plays in the living room. She‘s just carrying the cup over to the coffee table when a song comes on on TV, Chuck Berry. You never can tell.

She freezes in the middle of her movements as memory hits her like a wall, his face in front of her inner eye, that sparkling blue of his eyes, his wooden guitar in her lap as the summer breeze caresses her face.

Which songs are you gonna try first? - Dunno, there‘s so much good music. - You never can tell. Chuck Berry.

Where might he be now? Frisco? New York? Paris or London?

She‘s ripped from her thoughts as she hears noises upstairs, a sharp cry, the cry of a baby. Jonathan‘s awake. She rubs her tired eyes and brushes her bangs out of her face as she makes her way upstairs. Lonnie should be home by now.

—————————————

Seventy-one in Soho, when I met Suzanne

I was trying to go it solo with someone else's band

She listened to my problems and she seemed to understand

When she came up to me softly and she took me by the hand

And she followed me to London to a hundred hotel rooms

To a hundred record companies who didn't like my tunes

„What do you mean they did not like it?“, the blonde woman asked Hopper.

„They said it‘s a stupid title.“, he said in defeat, letting his old, worn out guitar drop down on the bed next to his girlfriend.

„Which song did you play?“, she insisted.

„Joy...— I mean, Girl in a sundress.“

„Jim, I don‘t like to say it, but I also don‘t think it‘s a potential hit, it‘s...“,

„I thought it was special.“, he whispered, looking at Suzanne as her hand found his cheek.

_____________________________

And she followed me back to Indiana when I finally sold my old guitar

I'm never gonna be a star.

I'm just a plain old Country boy and that's all I'll ever be.

Jim Hopper returned to Hawkins, Indiana in 1972, married. He sat at Enzo‘s with his wife one night, talking about his new job with the police as outside the window he saw a woman, short, dark hair in a messy bun, a toddler on her arm, and another little boy walking next to her. Joyce in a sundress.

_______________________________

Oh, Rock'n'Roll I gave you all the best years of my life

All the dreamy sunny Sundays, all the moonless summer nights

Oh, I never knew the magic I'm making it with you

I'm getting along with a Country song doing what I wanna do

When I was always just one step behind you.

__________

A/N:

(the gif at the beginning is not mine, i found it on pinterest and this is the source)

Also I found so many versions of the song that I didn't knew which lyrics to use. Here have a good mixture. 😂

Pleeeeease give me feedback and let me know how you like my original fic content. I sometimes struggle with prompts and hope you enjoy this too. Oh and. Reblogs. Comments? I simp for that.

I‘M THIS SORRY FOR THE HEARTBREAK:

[wackywriterwhowriteswhenever]

Shipboard Romance Update

Hello, my lovely followers and readers. As I’m making progress with Shipboard Romance, my 2019 NaNoWriMo project, I’m learning more about the story. I have just nine days left of writing before the challenge is over, and I plan on hitting and surpassing the 50,000 word count goal (I may not even finish the manuscript with that goal!). 

So, as a little treat since y’all will be waiting until the early months of next year before I start publishing, here’s what I can tell you so far about what everyone is doing onboard the Disney Cruise Ship (hence the title):

1. Byeler: The boys spend a lot of time together on the ship. It’s been about a month since Mike and El broke up, and although Mike is in a much better place when the vacation starts, he’s still emotionally vulnerable. Still, feelings of attraction are there are both sides, and confessions are soon to come...

2. Elmax: Max helps El after the breakup, similar to how she did in Season 3. However, I take it up a notch when Max reveals feelings she’s had for El ever since Max and Lucas were dating (they’ve been broken up for some time by the time the story starts). Max’s confession leads El to realize maybe she too has feelings, and the two will spend much time together on the ship.

3. Jopper: Hopper was reluctant to take the trip with all of the kids, but Joyce talked him into it with little persuasion. She manages it by convincing Hopper to put Nancy in charge of the girls and Jonathan in charge of Dustin and Lucas, insisting that Mike and Will are mature enough to not need regular supervision on the trip. Hopper also has a surprise for Joyce in the shape of a small box ring. Hinty, hint, hint.

4. Jancy: Like in season three, Jonathan and Nancy intern for the Hawkins newspaper. But just when they thought they were gonna begin a trip of rest and relaxation, they are called to duty because the mayor of Hawkins happens to be on board the ship. And the newspaper has been doing an investigative story into the mayor having an affair with his secretary. So, Jonathan and Nancy must get to work, with Nancy lamenting that this story could get them full-time jobs at the newspaper if they are successful in breaking it.

5. Henclair (Platonic): Dustin and Lucas search for things to do on the ship. When they find a lounge that’s inspired by the 1950s, they are immediately intrigued, only to be disappointed to find out only adults are allowed in it. Dustin devises a plan to sneak into the lounge, but a surprise appearance by Mr. Clarke and his girlfriend may put a damper on those plans.

I’ll be spending these last few days of November writing lots and lots to get the story finished in time for the end of the month. Right now, chapter three is nearly finished, and it serves as the set-up chapter for all of these events to take place. Chapter four will be much of the action of the story and chapter five will bring everything to a nice close. As I’ve said before, I’ll take December off to focus on other writing projects and prepare for Christmas before diving back in to the story in January to revise and edit it before publishing it on AO3. Stay tuned!

[andcontemplation]

Jopper writing prompt #46 “Take me home, please.” for @andwejust-ran​ ❤️This one got away on me and turned into more than a drabble, 1000 words exactly! It’s a bit of fluff, on the 50/50 chance that Hopper is the American. PS - I have a few more prompts left, so stay tuned if I haven’t yet got to yours ;)

"Aeroflot 118 to Rome is now boarding at Gate 11B," a thick accent announced over the PA system, the voice echoing throughout the terminal. It repeated in both Russian and Italian before a few passengers at the gate stood up to gather their things. The quiet couple sitting at the next gate over watched, waiting for their own flight, still another hour away. 

At least the pair could still pass for regular tourists -- just two people who spent a few weeks on the road in Russia with nothing more than a rucksack and the clothes on their backs. Sure, they might have been a bit older than the usual nomadic crowd, but they blended in all the same. 

They watched the small group next to them form a line to board the plane. Businessmen were chatting idly with other businessmen as they waited for first-class to board. Families hugged, seeing their loved ones off at the gate. A group of students and their teachers did roll-call to make sure everyone was there.

Just ordinary people, going about their lives. All those carefree souls, ignorant to the evils threatening humanity. 

Joyce envied them for it.

None of these people had a clue what she had gone through to get to this point. Or what Hopper went through... And unless hell froze over in her lifetime, Joyce understood that she could never be like those people ever again. 

She realized she did have something, though, and that was the man sitting right next to her. Someone she thought she had lost forever. She had her second chance, and she was undeniably grateful for it.

Joyce looked over to Hopper, taking his presence in, letting herself stare. She couldn't help it; he was a sight for sore eyes. 

He was almost the same, but not entirely. A bit older and different, somehow. Changed by his experience in Kamchatka. While he had been relatively quiet after the rescue, he was even more so now that they were all alone. Their assigned FBI agents had dropped them off in Moscow the night before with new passports and an allowance, advising them to find their own way home. Suddenly, they were by themselves for the first time in a long while. Joyce thought that maybe he'd open up to her that night when they got settled in the hotel room. Instead, he simply held her in his arms on the bed, watching Russian State television in silence into the wee hours of the morning.

It was clear Hopper wasn't ready to tell her what happened to him after he disappeared and she wasn't going to push the issue. Whatever it was, she only knew that it left him rough around the edges and grizzled. Was the old Jim Hopper even in there anymore?

The ZZ Top beard didn't help matters either. In a silly attempt to make him smile, Joyce called him "Rasputin" in the taxi on the way to the airport that night. Their Russian driver had laughed at her joke, and Hop scowled, so she knew the beard would be gone as soon as he got his hands on a razor -- or three. He had lost all the excess weight he had put on the summer before, too, and where his clothes used to fit tight, they hung off him now. He must have kept active locked away in the gulag. It looked as if he had volunteered for another tour in 'Nam. 

Most of all, Hopper looked the way Joyce felt: fucking exhausted. They had been living their lives in a constant state of fear for so long. It felt like they were always running from monsters, or tangled up in a dark web of intergovernmental conspiracies... or something even bigger than all that combined. Was a boring, normal life even on their radar anymore? 

Joyce wished they could just run away from it all, even though she had tried that once already and failed. This was proof of what running away from her problems got her... sitting in the boarding lounge at the Moscow airport, watching strangers go about their day, wondering if her and Hop could ever be happy again. Fantasizing about what it would be like.

Joyce bumped Hopper's shoulder to catch his attention. He grunted, looking down, as she nodded toward the dwindling group of passengers in front of them. They were almost the last ones at the gate now, and their flight wasn't for another hour. How easy would it be to just slip in with this flight to Rome? Take the train through the Italian countryside, find a little seaside villa to rent. Go on that fancy Italian dinner date. They could spend the next week forgetting everything that had happened, and picking up right where they left off. Making up for all that time apart. 

"Whadya say? Take a little detour on the way home? See a bit of Europe?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "I've heard the Amalfi Coast is lovely this time of year.” 

Hopper looked at her like she had lost her mind. He shook his head, realizing a second later that she was only joking.  

"What? I've always wanted to see Italy. We're already here after all," Joyce reasoned with him, only half-joking now. "The kids'll be fine for another week."

"Tempting, but no," Hopper said. A smirk touched the corner of his mouth at her flighty suggestion before his almost-smile faded away to a grimace. "I'm done with this side of the world for a while," he grumbled, taking her hand. He laced his fingers with hers and then leaned over to kiss her forehead. "Take me home… please?" 

Joyce chuckled and sank into his embrace, content to go home too. Back to normal, whatever that was for them now.

As they continued the never-ending wait for the red-eye to New York, she rested her head on his shoulder and said, "Fine, but you owe me a trip to Europe."

[argyleandjonathansmokingajoint]

AU! where Jopper were teens in the 80s and were a “thing” in high school

They liked to sit outside on the hood of Jim’s car and listen to old music together. All the stuff that their other friends would laugh at them for having an interest in, older stuff especially. They’d crank up The Supremes, Four Tops, Marvin Gaye, or whatever else one of them happened to bring with them that day, and they’d light up a smoke and talk about anything and nothing at all while they skipped classes.

Sometimes they’d ride over to the quarry to sneak beers and make out or swim. There had always been something between them, though neither of them wanted to try putting it into words. Not just yet anyways. It was too complicated when you put feelings into the mix, and they already had their friendship wrapped up inside of this thing they had going on with each other.

But Joyce would talk about Lonnie sometimes, and Jim could feel his stomach tighten and curl with bitterness whenever it happened. They weren’t even dating, but he had heard the word from some of the guys around. He knew it was only a matter of time. If she said yes to that asshole, well, that was just that, then, wasn’t it? They’d go on being friends always, and no Lonnie or any other being could ever stop that.

Speaking of quarries and happier things though, they were there now, and Frankie Valli was currently playing in soft tunes on the boombox. Jim could register Joyce lifting her head from his shoulder and turning towards him to catch his eye. 

“What are you thinking about?” The question caught him off guard, making him jump a little.

“Uh- nothing. Why?”

“Hop, I’m sitting right next to you. You just got really tense right now, ya know?” Her face curved with the shape of a smirk as she put a small hand on his arm.

“Okay, you got me. I was just thinking, we should be out in that water right now.”

A loud burst of a laugh came tumbling out of Joyce’s mouth. “Ha! Fuck off! There’s not a chance I’m doing that shit at night in, like, fifty degree weather.”

“Yeah, okay. It’s closer to sixty, at least.” His own smile tugged at his lips, “But alright, if you say so, spoil sport.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

They repeated the phrase one after the other and grinned like it was the funniest joke they’d heard in a week. Both turned to stare at the quickly darkening water as the sun faded and set, and slowly, as if drawn like a magnet, their hands reached for the other’s in the dark.

You're just too good to be true I can't take my eyes off you You'd be like heaven to touch I wanna hold you so much

[littlewitchhazels-blog]

Brings Me Back

“We ran! We just ran!”

Let’s take a wild guess on which Jopper scene left the biggest impression on me in S2 :) This started out as a little bit of a ramble/me deconstructing the scene and working my way around an interpretation of a younger Joyce and Hopper friendship, then it became this! Hope you enjoy! (Read on AO3)

Strange, really, to think of the old days, when nothing really mattered. Nevertheless, Joyce couldn’t help but allow herself to be swept up in the wave of nostalgia and bittersweet memories that overcame her in the quiet moments. It was nice to indulge herself in such luxuries every once in a while, when things got tough.

She cast herself back to the eerily quiet schoolyard — an empty world that seemed almost out of place compared to the noisy scene one would usually associate with the open area — the way it always was when all the boisterous kids had even herded away into their classrooms. Joyce recalled with a smile the glassy-eyed stares of old classmates during those last few periods of the day, just waiting to be freed from the cramped classrooms and stuffy teachers. In a way, you could almost call the deserted schoolyard peaceful. Still, there were stragglers — why wouldn’t there be? She was one of them! — shuffling amidst the collection of parked cars that lined the pavement.

It was easy enough to sneak through the halls and past the buildings, finding yourself out in the open and away from the monotony of the classroom’s teachings. Most of the time, teachers didn’t give a shit and you could probably count on your classmates not to snitch (given that they weren’t skipping, themselves). In any case, the only torture the teachers could provide in lieu of skipping fifth and sixth period was the painful boredom of detention. Even that, as terrible as it would seem at the time, was survivable. You were guaranteed to get caught at least once or twice, but everyone got smart after that. Well, ‘smart’ was a generous way of putting it, but damn did it make them feel untouchable! What she’d give to have that stubborn bravery of her youth once more.

Even as one hand bounced nervously against her thigh, Joyce was always confident in her march across the empty schoolyard of Hawkins High, easily ducking under windows and keeping close to the walls when she had to. The path and all its obstacles were almost ingrained in her memories. All she had to do was walk. Every now and then, she’d throw a cautious glance over her shoulder, but really there was never anything to worry about so long as she kept light on her feet.

In all honesty, she probably could have walked the whole way with her eyes closed; Joyce was willing to bet that even now, some twenty-odd years down the road, she still could have done it. Just one more turn and there: The steps around the back of the school, thankfully devoid of any other skulking students. Maybe there was some other stomping ground for the no-good miscreants of Hawkins High, but the thought of seeking out some other sheltered haven never crossed Joyce’s mind back then. Either way, past residents had already left their marks with the cigarette butts that littered the ground and the streaks of ash that smeared the concrete. Joyce had always cautioned one last peek around the area before ducking under the steps. It never hurt in the long run to be just a little more cautious.

Usually, that in itself was enough — an instinct learned after one too many dull detentions, and from the fretful thoughts lingering at the corners of her mind — but every once in a while it simply wasn't enough. Joyce would never forget that day Mr. Cooper caught her and Hopper smoking under the steps.

Her fingers were tapping against the rusted support she leant against, drumming out a nervous tune as she stood waiting for what felt like a goddamn eternity. Come on, where is he, where is he, where is he? She was always first, used to always be the one waiting until the fateful day she simply stopped coming. That was just the way it always was: She’d tap out her anxieties for a few achingly long minutes, slowly drifting into her own flittering thoughts, and then — “Christ, Hopper! You scared the shit out of me!”

He would just appear out of thin air! As bizarre as it seemed, considering her parter-in-crime’s towering frame and broad shoulders, he had a way of dropping in completely unnoticed by her. On reflection, maybe she was just a little too wrapped up in her thoughts to realise; kind of a shitty quality for the self-proclaimed lookout to have.

On the days he jumped her, Joyce would smack Hopper square in the chest with a tiny balled-up fist. Hopper, without even flinching, would always laugh at that. That was another strange thing about remembering, realising that she hadn’t heard that deep, rumbling laughter in years. The thought made her heart ache.

“Gotta keep your eyes open, Joyce.” He’d warn jokingly.

She rolled her eyes at that, a playful smile tugging at her lips. She never realised back then how much he loved those moments, when she’d smile at him so sweetly. Perhaps part of her truly was playing up for the camera, but the fact that they never quite made it past ‘very good friends’ said otherwise. As he ducked under the steps to join her, Joyce threw one last glance over Hopper’s shoulder before her eyes were drawn to the pack of Camels he’d fished out from his back pocket.

Hopper barely had time to light the damn thing before Joyce would inevitably snatch the cigarette from between his teeth, taking a long slow drag before leisurely handing it back to him with a smug look plastered on her face. “So… Playing hooky again, Hop?”

It was one of their running jokes, the facade of obliviousness at each other’s constant presence and dedication to their shared smoke breaks. He’d always give her a look, halfway between amused and something else that she could never quite place, but he never said anything about it; Hopper just laughed, and plucked the cigarette from between her fingers, wading it between his teeth with a lazy smile. “I could ask you the same thing, myself.”

“Very funny.” She drawled, watching as a plume of smoke escaped his lips.

And that was how they would remain — most of the time, at least — exchanging friendly jabs at each other amidst the general silence. There was never really a need for words when they were together, Just the presence of each other was enough. And the shared pack of smokes, too. Sometimes she’d ask about his mom, then he’d ask about her dad. They’d laugh, sigh, and sink back into their comfortable silence before their stilted conversation would start all over again as if there hadn't been a ten minute lull that split their conversation right down the middle.

They’d just settled into one of their brief snippets of conversation, laughing quietly over some dumb story Hopper had recounted about something she couldn’t quite remember, when all of a sudden they were so rudely interrupted by exasperation at the youths of the generation turned to wrathful irritation.

“Hey, assholes!”

Joyce could have sworn she jumped a foot in the air at the sound of the booming voice that shook the once peaceful space in an instant. On that occasion, she’d instinctively grabbed the front of Hopper’s shirt and twisted it so tightly in her fist that, for the rest of the day, the fabric of his white shirt became hideously wrinkled just below the left armpit. Whipping her head around in one fluid motion, she caught a glimpse of an advancing Mr. Cooper brandishing a threatening fist as he came closer and closer. After a moment of fumbling, Joyce grabbed Hopper’s wrist with her free hand and jolted the cigarette from his fingers. “Run!”

And so they ran. She whisked Hopper away with a giddy peal of laughter as they dashed out from under the steps and tore down the paths towards the main buildings of the school. Not once did she relinquish her iron grip on Hopper’s wrist, nor did he as he twisted his hand to grab her own wrist in the midst of the chaos. Every now and then, when they came to a shuddering halt for a split second decision of which turn to take, his hand would come up and hover over her shoulder, poised to usher her forward if need be. And no matter how great his long strides were, she could always keep up.

Through twisting hallways and past silent classrooms they went, their footsteps clattering against the linoleum floor, unable to fight the euphoric whoops and frantic shushing that punctuated their sharp breaths. As lovely as the silence was, there was something so thrilling about the chase — tangled up in each other’s arms, huddling together in one useless hiding spot after the other — that brought the widest of smiles on both of their faces.

Joyce was almost winded by the force in which Hopper suddenly changed directions and pulled her into an empty classroom, slamming the door behind them with just a bit too much strength than was necessary. They pressed their faces to the small window in the door — Hopper’s chin digging into the top of Joyce’s head, their breaths fogging the window — in one last cautionary effort. It was only then, when they were satisfied that Mr. Cooper had given up the chase, that Joyce pried herself away from Hopper and fell to the ground with her back pressed up against the door. Her chest rose and fell with each gulping lungful of air, and she remembered thinking how she’d never ran so hard and fast in her life. “Holy shit…”

Hopper slumped to the ground next to her in an equally breathless state. For a moment, their eyes met and all of a sudden they were laughing again. They laughed, and laughed, and laughed until their cheeks hurt from smiling so brightly.

That was what they called ‘life-or-death’ back in the day. Simpler times.

After they’d finally calmed down and caught their breaths, Joyce vividly recalled the moment Hopper brought a hand down to squeeze her knee in playful reassurance before using it as a support to stand up on shaky legs. Yes, their friendship had always been something of a touchy one — with lingering hands on forearms, arms looped around shoulders and waists, and a playful shove or two — but she couldn’t quite stop thinking about just how warm his hands were when they caressed her skin. He must have said something to her when he offered her a hand, but she hadn’t heard it.

It was just a moment, one of many shared between them, that instantly passed as soon as Joyce had carefully tucked it away into a quiet corner of her mind for later contemplation that she never quite got to.

A moment quickly forgotten by the time Hopper had hauled her back on to her feet and caught her as she stumbled on the spot, laughing softly at the almost drunken wobbling that came with each step. And once again they’re pressed up against each other’s side arm in arm, somewhat lopsided due to the almost ridiculous height difference, stumbling out of the classroom on a mutual unspoken decision to skip the rest of the school day.

They could deal with the consequences of their antics tomorrow.

* * *

Most of their days weren’t so hectic or filled with brimming excitement that came with hallway chases and unquenchable laughter. Mostly it was just quiet chatter and prolonged silences that never lent itself to anything other than the closeness of their friendship.

And then there was one time, a time that felt like forever ago, when he’d leaned in and brushed his lips so softly against hers… Joyce had thought that he was going to tell her that he loved her. Strange, how clearly she could recall the smell of cigarette smoke on his breath, the closeness of their bodies, and the fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach. Something made him stop, pull away hesitantly with his gaze cast almost shamefully to the floor. I’m sorry, he’d said, best forget it. So she did, for a while, buried it away with all the other moments when he started seeing other girls and she started dating that scumbag Lonnie.

Now, however, she remembered it. And Joyce wondered if he did too.