Mike Driver
YOU ARE THE REASON
Misplaced Lens Cap
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@hearthymns
KISS ME HARD BEFORE YOU GO, SUMMER TIME SADNESS.
* pinned. hi ! & welcome to my indie writing blog for rose dewitt bukater. i am open to crossovers, oc friendly, & multi versed. outside of my canon TITANIC verse , i have a set 80s & 90s verse for rose & also a modern day verse . if you have a preference, don't be scared to let me know !!
meme tag coming soon / rules / verse page coming soon .
“am i not already careful enough?” the blond teases lightly, feigning surprise and biting his lower lip to try and hide the amusement that’s brewing deep within his belly and threatening to overtake his features. these little lectures are endearing rather than annoying, insists a voice in the back of his head. it’s not something that he’s used to, having grown up without a mother, and so it feels so very new… so unfamiliar that it never fails to warm his heart, knowing that someone cares so deeply about him. “excuse me? i’ve watched karate kid twice.” which in turn clearly makes him an expert on all kinds of risky stunts. “you’re doin’ a great job, though. helpin’ me defrost,” he points out with a chuckle, not even trying to defend himself against the lunatic accusations. oh, he is a lunatic, alright? and proud of it! he’s so madly in love with her that it has him doing all kinds of insane things… “but i didn’t. i’m stealthy and smart.” trying to chase her worries away, he presses his mouth to hers once more. warm, so warm. her lips are so soft and tender, smooth and gentle as his glide over them in a sweet caress. “mm, if your mother finds me, least i’ll die a happy man,” he muses, brushing off her concerns and kissing her until his chest’s burning from the lack of oxygen.
so, this is what elvis meant when he said that thing about kisses lifting him higher like a sweet song of a choir. pounding rapidly within the confines of his chest, his heart beats a tune of more than just infatuation. love. it must be love. his lips dance with hers for what feels like forever, savoring the taste of her. intoxicating beyond belief. winding an arm around her waist, he draws her closer. their bodies melting, molding together with such ease, as her dainty hand find his blond locks, sending sparks of anticipation throughout his chest. he’d been drawn to her from the first time he laid eyes on her at school. he’d fought hard to settle the butterflies dancing in his stomach that day. well, now they’re free and swarming his insides, causing a wave of heat to roll up his spine. it spills over his cold cheeks and colors them pink. to match the walls of rose’s room, he figures, pulling back with reluctance, already mourning the loss of her sweet lips. his breath hitching in his throat, legs growing weak beneath him. his eyes flutter open and he takes her in, thinking his chest might just burst wide open at this point. “i can tell…” he lightly teases, smiling at her with adoration. she kisses him like this and then wonders why he’s willing to risk his life just to see her.
“what can i say? i tend to bring a sense of adventure with me everywhere i go.” letting her move his hand from her cheek, he leans in and kisses it apologetically. a laugh escapes him when she so confidently tells him what he should do next, leading him over to her bed. he’s still mesmerized by everything in this room, fingertips reaching out to touch the whimsy canopy, absently asking, “what’s that for? you close it at night?” pale blue eyes flickering to her nightstand next, taking everything in like a curious cat, itching to lay hands on all these pretty things. “hey, i only tripped ‘cause you’re so beautiful that i couldn’t take my eyes off you and i forgot where i was going.” charming his way out of trouble, though it’s not like he’s feeding her lies. it’s all true. “yes, ma’am.” he salutes her, trying to coax a giggle out of her, toeing off his nikes and pushing them under her bed before climbing onto the mattress and letting her cover him up with blankets, his skin tingling all over as warmth engulfs him. something hot to drink sounds good right now so he doesn’t try to stop her, smiling at the kiss to his cheek and sheepishly asks, “do you think there’s cookies in the pantry? the chocolate chip ones?” he always feels awful asking for food and does his best to sound playful rather than desperate.
❝ stealthy until the vanity attacked you, mr. dawson.❞ rose corrects, trying to remain composed but she can't help but giggle. more anxious butterflies coiling in her belly as their lips meet again.. happiness, fear, maybe even brief guilt caused by the brainwashing she's not allowed to be doing this. she should be somewhere unhappy, miserable, being ruled around by cal– all according to her witch for a mother. manicured thumb smooths the spot beneath his eye, the place where the cold still clings, her voice gentler now. ❝ you’re thawing, ❞ she decides, satisfied, ❝ but don't think for a second that means you're invincible. if my mother catches you, she won't et you die happy. she'll lecture you into the afterlife. ❞ rose jests, trying to make it a light hearted conversation even if it wasn't.
deep blues flicker to the sheer curtain wrapped around her bed like a princesses' palace, amused because it must be so different for a male to take in. ❝ it's for pretending the world ends at the lace, ❞ red haired girl answers, ❝ i close it when i want to forget everything that's outside. it works more often than you'd think. ❞ the smile on her face reaching her voice & when he asks about cookies, expression softens, the kind of softness that belongs to late nights and shared secrets. that have quite a lot of those... late nights and shared secrets. their meeting practically started that way. and from what she knows, she'll bring him something better than boxed pantry cookies. but she will play it off with a nod because she doesn't need to make him feel embarrassed for feeling hungry like she knows he is. ❝ chocolate chip, i can do that. ❞ she promises, punctuating her promise with a rosy smile before hopping up and disappearing through her doors.
. . .
the door quickly swings back open & rose reappears with cookies she popped in the oven, not homemade, but a little better than boxed... the refrigerator kind, the kind ruth rolls her eyes at because rose loves to sneak them in the cart every time since she's been little. and a warm plate of spaghetti from earlier she re-heated while the cookies were preparing themselves. her back pushes the door back. ❝ warm cookies here, ❞ rose places the plate down next to him on the bed, ❝ a pretty plate of spaghetti and homemade bread here. with our cups of warm tea here, ❞ she places the plates of food down and carefully grabs each tea cup out of between her arms to place those on her night stand. ❝ now jack, don't say i didn't have to do all of this.. you're always so kind to me, i know you'd do anything for me, so here's a little thank you. and i was about to eat dinner anyway, so we can picnic together. ❞ what kind of person would she be eating without him? that's just absurd. plus, it's her sneaky way of making sure he eats without again, embarrassing him. she goes back, locks the door then comes to carefully sit at the foot of her bed. ❝ how are you doing? warmer now? ❞
your hands are freezing! let me warm them up. | maybe shes tugging him inside her room bc he just snuck over through the window like we talked so long ago about (in 90s verse ofc while shes kinda off and on with cal bc ooh thats fun >:) and they got to hide him away from ruth finding out too lol) but be my guest and totally change this around in their other verse if that one intrigues you more. :) up to u!! im open minded
jack gets halfway through the window, balancing on the sill, his torso already inside while his legs are still hanging, kicking helplessly, before @hearthymns grabs him by the sleeves of his well-loved jacket and pulls him the rest of the way in. he’d spent an hour or so waiting for her to get back home on the sloping roof outside her bedroom, freezing, but now that she’s finally here, he no longer minds the cold. he stumbles onto the carpet, catching himself on the dresser, almost knocking over some figurine, before he can fall face-first and make too much ruckus. his breathing’s a little too fast, too shallow, but his boyish grin is already blooming on his purple lips. “okay,” he whispers, straightening up and dusting off his jeans as if this whole clumsy performance was planned, meant to amuse her. “guess hanging off the side of your house in december wasn’t the brightest of my ideas. but just so we’re clear, i regret nothing.” he exhales a laugh under his breath as she takes his hands between hers. they’re stiff and red and trembling, tingling now that blood’s rushing back to his fingertips, and still all he can focus on is how beautiful she looks in this light. “i’ve missed you,” he murmurs, keeping his voice low as he leans in and captures her lips in a soft kiss. and then another one, and another one. each sweeter than the one before it. “how was your day? i want to hear all about it.” asking in between kisses, forgetting how cold his hands are, he frees one of them and lays it on her cheek.
heart beating fast, cocnern is all over the redhead's features... it was one thing he continues to endanger himself climbing up the walls of her home so recklessly, he could get really hurt and rose's concern has her heart panging... but it was another to be outside in this brutal midwest winter. ten degrees out was nothing to dabble with, she only wishes she hadn't messed with the groceries as long as she had, putting them in their correct places downstairs and got to her room faster. and when she had finally gotten there, he startled the daylight out of her then his limbs startled getting tangled up in her furniture. ❝ jack, you have to be more careful! ❞ she quietly scolds like an angry mother, ❝and you're freezing, you absolute lunatic. ❞ only a little humor lacing her voice as she reiterates it, seeing his purple lips– sadness seeping back into her blue gaze, ❝ you could have slipped. or fallen. or been caught by my mother, which might actually be worse. ❞ but whatever lecture she’d prepared dissolves the second he kisses her. again and again.
it takes her breath away, her body going frozen momentarily, her heart palpitating in how stunned it feels to be kissed by someone who only knew tenderness and sweetness. everything she wasn't used to with... cal. manicured fingertips slide up into his hair, steadying him, anchoring him there while adventure keeps her heart soaring wild. since there was another thing, cal was supposed to be her assigned boyfriend– one day husband– and it felt exhilarating to break the rules for the first time in her life. it felt like adrenaline had no limits kissing jack dawson, someone so unlike him, in her bedroom while he and her mother had no idea. touch that feels safe, playful, loving, mutual... connection without fear. he was unlike both of them and that only caused her heart to race more. it felt so intense to go against them beind their backs with someone as beautifully hearted as jack. they were trying to sink her with their control & with this boy, it felt he was trying to save her. when he pulls back, a blush melts over her features, ❝ i- um, i- ❞ loss for words after getting hypnotized by his lips & all the thoughts swirling her mind, ❝i missed you too,❞ rose quietly but fiercely returns, eyes shining with equal parts worry and fondness, something lovestruck.
❝ every minute.❞ a small smile curving at the corner of her mouth. ❝ my day was dull until you arrived here.❞ hand slips from his golden locks, reaching up to take his cold hand off her cheek, a reminder she has to warm him back up. ❝ now, come along. you’re sitting down now, and be careful, no tripping over anything this time–❞ she adds amusingly, trying and failing to sound stern. a table or a chair or even a floor looks at him, and he seems to always trip over it. ❝ and i'm making you something hot to drink.. fortunately, i already have something prepared downstairs. you don’t get to freeze to death in my bedroom, jack dawson. i won’t allow it.❞ rose pulls him down to sit on her light pink canopy bed next to her, kissing his cheek, ❝ you're going to sit here while i get it. ❞ she grabs her secondary blanket, pulling it over his lap and turning the dial on it– it's a heated blanket, ❝ there shouldn't be any concern of my mother showing up, she's busy in the tea room. but just in case, hide under the blanket if it were to happen.❞
what rose's bedroom looks like – 1990s verse. ( the top pic is just a visual that her bed has the canopy. but everything else is the same. ) pastel pink soft carpet, cream colors, wallpaper, so many florals (little roses dotted everywhere), elegance, adjoined bathroom with a curtain seat and more pale pink. on her bed a pale pink bunny and a cabbage patch doll sits. an old toy box sitting in front of her bed. record player sitting on a table next to the patio door with white sheer curtains hanging from it ... & a little library shelf that has her childhood things and books sitting on next to a standing white oval mirror – these things that are not pictured and located in the spot you can't see. and a television set she finally got at 18, after years of begging for one. ruth still doesn't approve but she can't exactly fight rose now, so rose has finally won that battle. this room is the only space she feels like she has control in her life with a demanding and controlling mother, so it means a lot to her. it's her safe place.
daddy’s home
"nothing can come in between us. but again, with the faces, hurry and stop that. because that just may."
“nothing can come between us! nothing can come between us!” i scream as ruth & co drag me to a padded cell.
I AM CACKLING. ruth and CO!
rose: that's my amazing, a little unhinged, husband <3.
daddy’s home
"nothing can come in between us. but again, with the faces, hurry and stop that. because that just may."
rose!! my rose!! it’s been 84 years indeed 🥹🤍
TWO SECONDS IN AND WE ARE ALREADY CAUSING HAVOC. that's so us.
I MISSED YOU!!!!!!
"well, um. i don't think they approve of making such – faces. or gestures. and you know, my mother is undeniably behind this. so please. hurry jack, put your tongue away before she has another cow and bans me again."
She felt like love wasn’t meant for someone like her, maybe she was only made to love and not be loved, at least that what she believed. I could see it in her, the loneliness and how it wrapped itself around her smile. She couldn’t help how she felt.
can you see me? hello? 84 years??? @seahymns
jack graces rose with a crooked grin, eyes dancing like they know a secret he’s dying to share as they take her in. “hey, middle names are fair game when you’re this charmin’. can’t really tease you ‘bout nothin’ else.” his voice is easy, playful, but there’s warmth underneath, like he’s daring her to meet him in the joke rather than keep scowling. he’s never really meant to hurt her feelings but there’s no sugarcoating this one truth — the name dewitt is atrocious and belongs somewhere next to dwight and howard. at least according to jack. shoulders shrugging under white shirt, eyes focused on the wooden boards beneath their feet rather than her face now. “i ain’t got one. my ma said they were useless. i’m no prince of wales, i don’t need more than one name.” he briefly wonders if she’s got some royal blood in her, judging solely by the way she carries herself with such confidence and effortless elegance but the name, too. it does sound very classy, he has to admit that. “one puts your life in jeopardy, the other not so much so that’s alright,” he playfully explains, thinking she’ll be fine unless girls like her can die from hurt pride. “cinnamon rolls are my favorite.” when he was little, his mom would take him to this one bakery downtown every saturday to get one. it was their thing. which is probably why he loves the smell of cinnamon now, and feels nostalgic when he takes a bite out of the sweet bun. “and banana bread.” that’s everyone’s comfort food, he assumes. “what do you like best?” he wonders, laughing at her explanation as they walk down the long pier. he’s in no rush and it seems that neither is she. “no, not terrible. unique and kind of impressive. you know, some people dance, others sing and you run from parties. sounds fun. what kind of party was it, anyway? please, don’t tell me you ran from your own wedding?” he’s always been too curious, a little too straight-froward but hopefully she doesn’t mind him peering into it.
how sly or either how genuinely that sweet.. diamond blues soften and so does the frustrated crease he's previously caused her forehead to pinch with. "is that true or is this your backup plan after bad talking someone's middle name?" remaining skeptical, she doesn't know him after all, he could be a good savior but also a good con artist. "at least my first name isn't terrible." still sounding miffed... at least she's named after her favorite flower, somehow she came out lucky with that one regarding her old fashioned mother ruth and picking out a name for a child.
"well i'm certain you're lying," no middle name? mhm, what a perfect way to tease him back for this. "i'm sure yours is as hideous as dewitt and you're just scared." rose's voice sounds more playful now, arms still crossed as a smirk gently begins to curl her pink stained lips, shielding herself from the cold midwest wind she's not used to. "no that's not alright, you need manners." the red haired girl corrects. "i love cinnamon rolls, banana bread," she agrees, but won't elaborate how little she indulges. "crème brulée. chocolate ganache. but– my other significant favorite is strawberry pie." sweet fresh strawberries in the summertime, so nostalgic and delicious.
"especially when you pick the strawberries yourself." her spoiled mother would disagree though, always dragging her back as a child from wanting to pick strawberries in a june garden. 'don't do that rose.' remembering the scolding when she was barely five. a disturbing memory that still leeches on to the many moments her mother has sucked all the fun out of her life. "just a social club filled with a bunch of my mother's rich phony friends that she attends almost every thursday at this lake club far over there," pointing to where the venue is, the windows glowing with yellow light and piano music that they can barely hear here with the waves of the lake, "that she dragged me to tonight to meet the son of one of her friends. she's trying to wed me," funnily enough– considering it matches his joke, "i just know that's her plan. but i don't want to be wed. not yet, not so soon and certainly not with someone i don't like or someone who looks so smug." but.. she probably shouldn't start ranting to this stranger, that's kind of odd but she doesn't realize she's needed someone to vent to. it's just spilled right out of her.
jack smiles, the kind of smile that reaches his bright blue eyes and makes them sparkle, the kind of smile that rarely resides upon his lips these days. “not many people get my humor, good to know you do,” he admits, basking in the sound of her laugh, so sweet and genuine, unlike anything he’s ever heard before. “well, i wasn’t gonna say dewitt’s awful, but if you’re gonna go and say it for me…” he trails off, stifling a grin and shrugging. if he’s being entirely honest, he’s heard worse names than dewitt but it’s not the prettiest either. “nah,” he sighs, nodding to the jacket, “that’s not to make up for anything. i wouldn’t let you freeze even if i hadn’t been poking fun at your name.” he shakes her hand and grins at the firmness of her grip, like she’s still trying to prove she’s not shaken by the unfortunate event of near drowning. she’s got the kind of confidence to her that you don’t see every day, the kind of confidence that’s very intriguing. “almost fallin’ into a lake in a dress and heels?” almost committing suicide? “that’s not somethin’ most people come back from smilin’ so i get it,” he says, a little softer now, less teasingly. when she says she’d love to go for hot chocolate, something flutters inside his chest. he rummages in the pocket of his jeans, squinting as he searches for what is surely hiding deep in the denim crevasses. charcoal-stained fingertips close around a bunch of coins, and he brings them out with an almost triumphant grin. “see? we can even grab a cinnamon roll!” he collects his pencils and tucks his sketchbook under his arm, offering the other to the redhead to hold onto in case her legs are still a bit rubbery after that near death experience. “mind if i walk with you?” ran from the party? now that captures his attention and with almost childlike innocence he inquires, “is that another hobby of yours? runnin’ from parties? and jumpin’ from piers, hm? one hell of an adrenaline junkie you are.”
strawberry brows gently scrunch, slowly realizing what he's implying. "i beg your pardon?" voice laced incredulously, a laugh of disbelief sounding from her. "is that what you do? insult people's middle names after saving them?" that's an odd way to be. he just saves her from killing herself, but nonchalantly calls her middle name ugly? it's her middle name to call ugly, not his, rose thinks with a scowl. "well let's see your middle name, mr cool guy." rose scoffs, gently crossing her arms with the heavy sleeves of his jacket. "against me freezing, but not against insulting me." she points out, how annoying and somehow amusing in a peculiar way at the same time.
"a cinnamon roll... that sounds good." actually, it does. her mother has kept treats like that from her most of her life. her mother's always been controlling and neurotic about her figure and rose's, dragging her body complexion issues with her and projecting them onto her to never indulge in things like sweets because they'll turn you thick and ugly and no man will ever want you. well to her, she doesn't care if a man ever wants her. but admittedly, sometimes she has let her mother get away with making insecure if she enjoys a dessert once in awhile. in that instance though, rose wants to do nothing more than rebel and have five cinnamon rolls with jack. "well, i suppose it is. is that so terrible?" she jokes, voice taking on a more playful tone than offense this time, taking his arm and trailing back down the pier. she never thought running up this pier she'd be walking back down it, let alone with such a person like mr. dawson. "my adrenaline search is becoming an addiction at this point, i confess."
DAVID LYNCH as Gordon Cole and MÄDCHEN AMICK as Shelly Johnson in TWIN PEAKS 2.19 "Variations on Relations"
Mädchen Amick as Shelly Johnson in Twin Peaks, S02E05 - The Orchid's Curse.
❝ i’m gonna have to get you to write that one down, ❞ jack teases, his tone genuinely light and playful for the first time today. he even allows a soft laugh to slip past his lips now that he can finally relax, his muscles unwinding as the realization that they’re both safe sinks in. it feels like a miracle. ❝ rose dewitt bukater. it suits you. i mean it. well, rose suits you. dewitt is… yeah, definitely unique, ❞ he pauses just to watch her reaction, see if his sense of humor’s crossed any unsaid boundaries, before adding, ❝ with all seriousness, though, it flows nicely together. don’t know about your mother’s other ideas, but this one was brilliant. no sarcasm intended. ❞ when she lets go of him, he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over her shoulders with a smile, figuring she must be at least a little cold now that the sun’s already set and adrenaline’s evaporated. ❝ you, too, ❞ he says softly, ocean hues glancing down at her extended hand as if it belonged to an alien before snapping out of this trance-like state and taking it into his own. shaking. he didn’t expect this, not from a girl like her, but it’s a nice gesture. ❝ i was actually on my way to grab a cup of hot chocolate, would you care to join me? ❞ he inquires, her palm still in his, reluctant to part ways but forcing himself to let go after a few more seconds. ❝ no need to apologize for that, rose. i did what anyone would have done. the real question is… how are you? you okay? ❞ he can’t help but worry about this stranger. cares for her even. it’s silly but since he’s saved her life, it feels like he’s somewhat responsible for her now.
"well, i don't blame you. at least you're trying to memorize it." an amused laugh sounds from her after all the fear rushing through her being. "something like what?" is he making fun of her name? "well, go on. don't act so tough and back out now. be a tough man and admit it." that dewitt is an awful middle name. "oh – so you're saying my first name's brilliant, not the second?" rose presses, a little offended but she agrees doesn't she? and he also saved her life so she can't exactly give him a fight. "thank you..." voice comes out as a surprise at the jacket weighing over her shoulders, "is this to make up for making fun of my name?" she wonders while also questioning why he's looking at her hand like that. once he takes it, she gives his hand a firm shake. "i am." a little embarrassed, but okay now. "i mean, i'll possibly have nightmares and never go swimming again... but i'm okay." a sheepish laugh laces her words, gently nodding as hand slowly returns to her side. "i would love to." go with him for hot chocolate, that sounds so endearing. no one's ever invited her to something so normal like that. "but i–– should probably allow my mother to know first. i already ran off from the party." arm lifting, gesturing to the venue across the pier. the party that was suffocating her. the entire reasoning why she was going to jump into the lake in the first place.
