The waiter - Tom Holland

Word count: 1190 (very short)


A/N: So this one was requested, and I really loved the idea! I’m just so sorry, that I couldn’t make it better. Hopefully, I the next thing I make will be better. I’m still new at writing, so I’m still learning a lot. Writing in Tom’s POW is not my strong suit, but I still hope you enjoy this one!

It was just another day at Southbank in London. Street artist were entertaining the tourists, who were all enjoying the dry day. The weather wasn’t good, but at least it didn’t rain.

It was very quiet in the café you worked at, so you were able to get a glance at some of the dancers. You knew at least half of them, so whenever you had the chance, you would always watch them. Sometimes you would even join them in your breaks, but only if there weren’t too many people.

Two guys walked into the café, and sat down at one the tables. You grabbed two menus, and walked over to them.

“Hi, Welcome! Do you know what you’re having, or do you want to take a look at the menu?” You smiled at them, as they stopped their conversation and looked up at you. “I think we’ll like to look at the menu” One of them said, and you handed them the pieces of paper.

As you walked away, they started chatting again. You started cleaning the other tables, even though they were already clean. You would steal glances at both of them. They were both quite handsome, but you found yourself looking more at the darker haired boy. After a couple of minutes, you returned to them, a notepad in your hand.

“Ready to order?” You asked, with a smile. They named their orders right away, and you took the notepad to the kitchen. You had been working here for almost a year now, so you had become close friends with the chef. He could see the costumers from the kitchen, and on quiet days like this, you would often talk about them. Just to have something to do.

“The blonde one, he looks like your type, doesn’t he?” He teased, as you handed him the order.

“I was looking more at the brown haired one, actually. Not that it’s any of your business” You smiled back. Sam was around 50. He was happily married, and wanted everyone to find love as well, that included you. He took every chance he could to bring it up.

“I’m just saying. You’ve been single for 3 months now. You’re a beautiful young lady. I bet they’re already talking about you in there” He smiled, and you just rolled your eyes. Little did you know, that he was right.

Tom’s POW

“She’s hot!” Harrison exclaimed, as soon as she had left the room. We had both been checking her out, from the moment we walked in. Everything about her was just gorgeous. Her face, her eyes, her hair, the smile on her beautiful red lips. Even her voice sounded angelic.

“She’s beautiful” I said, still having the feeling of being breathless. There was just something about her. The way her smile reached her eyes, making them shine. The way she gently bit her lip, when she wrote something down.

We talked for a couple of minutes, before deciding to film something to put on Instagram. Just as I started filming, she came back. I turned the camera towards her. Even on camera, she was stunning. I turned off the camera as she got closer, not wanting her to notice.

“There you go. Anything else I could get you?” She asked, still smiling, as she sat down the plates.

“Your name, would be great, thanks” I immediately regretted saying the words, but I couldn’t really take them back. She turned her face to me, and I could see the smile in her eyes.

“Well, usually I don’t give out any personal information, but I’ll make an exception. I’m Y/N” She smiled. Even her name was perfect. Was it even possible to find even one negative thing about this girl?

“Nice to meet you, Y/N”


A couple of days had passed, since I met her, and I hadn’t been able to get her out of my mind. I had even been to the café. Every. Single. Day. Eventually someone told me, she had the week off, and I realized how stupid I must’ve seemed to them.

Now I was maybe going to seem like a huge idiot, and maybe even a stalker, but I just wanted to see her again. Was it too much, posting her picture on Twitter? Was I really getting this desperate?

The past 3 hours I had spent, trying to decide if I should do it or not. Just thinking about her made me nervous. What if she didn’t see it? What if she did, and thought I was a creepy stalker? How did Zara Larsson do this? Did she just look at the dude’s picture, and think: Yeah, I’ll just post this.

I finally wrote a tweet, and sent it out. It already seemed stupid, but the slight hope of seeing her again, was enough for me to let the tweet stay.


After a week of work, I was back. Today was busier, and we were 3 waiters working. One of the others, was one of my close friends. One of my best friends, actually.

“So why is it, that your picture is all over the internet, and you didn’t even tell me? Rumour has it, that some movie star is looking for you” She smiled cheekily at you, and you looked at her confused. “Seriously, you haven’t seen it? Here it is” She found her phone, and showed you a screenshot of a tweet.

“why are you so gorgeous, where can I find you, would you go out with me, and how do you like your eggs?” the tweet read, and there was a picture of you, carrying two plates towards a table.

“Whha- I. What?” You looked at her shocked. You knew exactly who had been in the café, when the picture was taken, but you weren’t sure which of the boys it was. You secretly hoped for the darker haired one.

“y/n. The guy who has been asking for you all week is here. Do you want to me to take care of him, so you can hide out here, or do you got this yourself?” The newer girl asked. She had only been here a month, but you were already starting to become friends with her.

“I think I got it” You said, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “Are you going to agree to the date?” Your best friend asked, teasingly, and you gave her a quick nod, before getting your notepad, and heading out towards his table.

“I don’t know, you can find me here, I would love a date, and I’m allergic to eggs” You smiled, as you reached his table, he looked up in surprise. He hadn’t noticed you, before you started speaking, and now he didn’t know how to react. You could see the blush rise in his cheeks, as he tried to find the words.

“Oh, for god sake. He’ll pick you up here, tonight, at 7. Hopefully then, he has learned how to speak” His blonde friend said after some time, causing the brownhaired boy to blush an even darker shade of red.

Taglist: @rock-n-roll-queens @m-sterre

Baby, Baby- Part One (Grayson Dolan x Reader)

Summary: An assignment in which you must mother a baby simulator doll pairs you with Grayson Dolan, a cocky, arrogant jerk, who was only out to make your life difficult, it seemed. In a project based on bonding and developing parenting skills, you and Grayson must set aside your differences and work together to be good parents and pass the class. Only one of you was willing to do it, however, and it wasn’t Grayson.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1190.

A/N: Here it is! I am beyond excited for this series and I hope you are too. Please, please leave feedback, I would appreciate it so much. Enjoy! PS this entire miniseries will be dedicated to @themdolanboys. I owe her my entire lifetime and more for all she’s done for me 💛 

Baby, Baby Masterlist.

Friday. The long anticipated, final day of the school week. The past four days had been rough on you, and, despite having been drained of all life and energy by pop quizzes and staying up too late to perfect your essays, you could not have been in a better mood.

Grayson Dolan couldn’t stand to see that, however. He had to make sure you were constantly miserable. Today, you had failed to see him approach you from behind and so, all of a sudden, you heard a “Boo!” in your ear and you almost flew through the ceiling you had jumped so high. The hustle and bustle of students continued in the hallway with the exception of a few heads turning, considering screaming wasn’t the most unusual occurrence.

With your heart beating straight out of your chest, you quickly whipped around to find him cackling away with his loud and obnoxious laugh, his signature cocky smirk painted on his face as if it was permanent marker. You couldn’t remember a time when his lips weren’t twisted into a lopsided grin, and just the sight of him made you want to punch him across the jaw. 

Standing just inches away from him as he chuckled at your flustered, shocked state made you clench your small hands into fists to try and keep them from meeting his pretty face. You doubted you could do any significant harm to the boy, who was over six foot and was more muscular and toned than any seventeen year old you had ever seen, but that didn’t stop your violent thoughts.

His eyes were particularly green that day, but the the usual mischief they held was there, taunting you, laughing straight at your face.

“Hi, Grayson, how are you?” you asked, though it was through gritted teeth and a fake smile.

“Just peachy,” he told you, his minty breath fanning over your face. There was never a moment when he wasn’t chewing gum. “See you around, (Y/L/N).”

“Hopefully not,” you replied, and Grayson shoved past you and disappeared down the hall. You let out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.
“Why is he so… Ugh!” you exclaimed to no one in particular, until you turned back around to your locker only to find your best friend standing there, who was clearly trying her very hardest not to laugh at you.

“You look like a tomato.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed out in exasperation. Grayson Dolan made you absolutely sick. A grudge had been hanging between you two since freshman year. It started when the boy got a chunk of gum stuck in your hair, and as a result, you were forced to cut over twenty inches of your beautiful locks off, but even then it still left you with a bald patch. You had grown it all back, of course, and it was longer than ever, but still, you would never forgive him. Not when he continued to make it his priority to make your life a living Hell.

“Just… Don’t give him the satisfaction. Carry on like nothing happened, like you always do,” Charlie said. Had it not been for her every time Grayson got on your nerves, he would have been six feet under, which didn’t sound all too bad, but you weren’t a fan of the idea of being labelled a criminal, and so you kept your hostile thoughts to imagining simply beating the crap out of him.

“You’re right,” you huffed, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath in, then exhaling it moments later. The last few moments never happened. “What’s our next class?”

“Health. We’re finding out our partners for the assignment.”

“Oh, shoot. I forgot about that,” you groaned, and suddenly your mood grew even worse after the whole Grayson incident.

“It’s okay, we’re gonna be together. We’re two of the people Ms. Dennis actually likes. Kind of.”

Charlie was right. Ms. Dennis was a mean, but knowledgeable woman. Unlike the rest of the students in your health class, you and your best friend actually took the class seriously, which meant Ms. Dennis went a tad bit less harsh on you. Just a tad.

You sat as far from Grayson as possible during health class, but even then his mere presence bothered you. He was probably thinking of all the new, creative ways he could torture you.

Ms. Dennis was droning on about the assignment— all of it was information you’d heard in her previous classes.

“You and your partner will spend a week learning and developing your parenting skills by taking care of a robot baby simulator. The robot collects data, such as how often you pick it up, how long you let it cry, when you feed it, how much sleep it gets and whether or not you change its diaper. You can be as lazy as you want with it and you can even turn it off, if you’re really desperate for a fail in this class. My job is to grade you, and nothing else.”

“I thought your job was to teach us,” Grayson’s voice came from the back of the class, and he earned a well-deserved, hard glare from Ms. Dennis.

“There’s nothing for me to teach you in this exercise. You’re all seniors, and you’re all old enough to figure out how to take care of an infant,” Ms. Dennis retorted. “So, if there are no further questions, we’ll move on to your pairs, which I have chosen at random. I’m not old-fashioned, by the way, and I don’t condone homophobia, which is why some of you will be paired with the same gender.”

You and Charlie exchanged excited glances, prepared to be called together.

Ms. Dennis began to call out names, and the anticipation settled in your stomach. Charlie’s name was called— but yours didn’t follow. She had been partnered with an Isabel Turner, and as a result your heart had dropped.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

You perked up, awaiting the name of the father, or perhaps mother, of your ‘baby’.

“You’ll be working with Grayson Dolan.”

“What?!” you screeched, clamping your hands over your mouth. You hadn’t meant to scream so loud, but you could hardly help it. The anticipation and curiosity that once filled your stomach was now replaced with dread, not to mention a nauseating feeling. “Do I have to be with him?”

“Well, now that I know you don’t want to be with him, yes.”

You groaned in frustration, pulling at the roots of your hair. As your teacher went on, pairing people together, you turned to until your eyes landed on him. His eyes were more devilish than ever, however this wasn’t going to be any more fun for him. He despised you as much as you despised him which was why for the rest of the class you both sat with your arms crossed over your chests like stubborn mules.

“You’ll receive your baby on Monday. Until then…”

After that, whatever Ms. Dennis had to say wasn’t important to you. Until then, you told yourself, enjoy life as it is. It’s gonna end on Monday.

Creepypasta #1190: Why I Don't Camp

Length: Long

In spite of our differences, and honestly maybe because of them, Sam and I got along well. We got each other to try new things. Things neither of us would ordinarily do.

As a couple we worked well. We complimented each other. He was the strong, confident outdoorsman with a bit of a careless, sometimes self-destructive streak. I balanced him by being quiet and thoughtful. I’m sure people saw me as the petite little brooding girlfriend who’d rather be at home with a book. It never bothered me because that’s exactly what I was.

Sam was an adventurous type. Camping, climbing, off-roading in his 4 wheel drive, kayaking, anything outside really. He was also smart and caring and prone to at least one existential crisis a month. Regardless, this isn’t about Sam’s unhealthy fascination with Camus. It’s about our first and only camping trip together.

Honestly, I didn’t really want to go but I thought it was sweet that he’d invite me knowing I’d be no help to him whatsoever at setting up camp or cooking or any of the things he was so good at.

I kissed the tip of his nose and said I’d love to go and it was worth it just to see the happy look on his face. Almost.

The drive to Fox Creek was beautiful. Rolling, tree covered hills turned to deep, shady gorges and steep, rocky peaks. We turned off the interstate and into the town of Ellison and took surface streets through downtown, meandering along unlined country roads. We went miles past the town until we came to a faded, drooping sign that said Fox Creek SR 451. Sam turned onto the slightly rutted gravel road and we continued.

Keep reading

Eleanor of Aquitaine: a fashion icon of her days

Eleanor of Aquitaine enjoyed dressing elegantly in fine clothes, often of silk embroidered in gold or silver thread, and she became a fashion icon in the Medieval Europe

Having grown up at the splendid and majestic court of Aquitaine, Eleanor always loved luxurious and exquisite jewelry, and her collection of pieces of jewelry, including massive necklaces and jewelled circlets to hold in place veils that all married women wore in the 12th century.

Bernard of Clairvaux, a French abbot, harshly criticized Eleanor’s dresses and manners when she was the Queen of France. We have a detailed description of one of Eleanor’s dresses she wore in the period.

Bernard of Clairvaux wrote about Eleanor’s appearance:

The garments of court ladies are fashioned from the finest tissues of wool or silk. A costly fur between two layers of rich stuffs forms the lining and border of their cloaks. Their arms are loaded with bracelets; from their ears hang pendants, enshrining precious stones. For headdress they have a kerchief of fine linen which they drape about their neck and shoulders, allowing one corner to fall over the left arm. This is the wimple, ordinarily fastened to their brows by a chaplet, a filet, or a circle of wrought gold.”

Bernard of Clairvaux’s description coincides with the one given by Geoffrey de Vigeois, who also condemned the outlandish and vulgar French court fashions in the period when Eleanor was King Louis VII’s wife. Of course, conservative French courtiers, all the more abbots, couldn’t like Eleanor’s frank courtly manners and frank clothes, which were fashionable in Aquitaine and which she was accustomed too.

When Eleanor of Aquitaine and Louis VII were in Palestine on the Second Crusade, there was an outrageous tale about Eleanor and her ladies, which might have originated from the eyewitness account of a Greek observer, who described Eleanor and her ladies as being dressed like Amazons on their way to the Holy Land.

Benoit de Saint-Maure dedicated his Le Roman de Troie (The Romance of Troy), a medieval retelling of the epic theme of the Trojan War, to Eleanor, in which he described Eleanor and her Amazons as riding into battle on a fine Spanish horse caparisoned with “a hundred tiny golden twinkling bells“ and armed with "a hauberk whiter than snow,” a sword, a lance, and a golden shield bordered with rubies and emeralds. She and her Amazons let “their lovely hair hang free.”

In 1154, Eleanor of Aquitaine and her second husband, King Henry II of England, were crowned and consecrated with pomp and splendor. Unfortunately, we don’t have the detailed description of Eleanor’s coronation gown, but, according to Alison Weir, a Victorian biographer would have dressed her in:

a wimple or close coif with a circlet of gems over it; her kirtle or close gown has tight sleeves and fastens with full gathers just below the throat, confined with a rich collar of gems” and over this was added “an elegant pelisson, bordered with fur.”

The impact of Eleanor’s great tastes on clothing style in England was enormous as she introduced fashions, fabrics, and etiquette from more cultured and sophisticated court. Women’s clothing became richly ornamented and increasingly elaborate

Eleanor’s effigy of at Fontevraud Abbey shows her gown covered with diagonal bars of gold, in the triangles of which there are gold crescents placed from point to point, and no doubt other ladies of her time had their emblems or badges embroidered into their gowns.

Eleanor brought some of well known Aquitanian traditions into English fashion. 

A bliaut was a rich, full overgown made of fine silk, which tightly fitted the bodice and down to the hips; it was worn with a decorate belt and an ornamental girdle. Wearing bliaut was a new highly fashionable trend at the royal court.

The bodice of bliaut was split down on either side from underarm to hip and attached with ribbons, which made gown envelop the body tighter. 

The skirt was cut wide, falling down to feet freely, in light folds. Bliaut sleeves were tight from shoulder to elbow, then flared out into enormous cuffs, amusingly long enough to drag on the ground; sleeves were knotted to make them more manageable in a shorter form.

Finest silks from the Middle East were readily available throughout Europe, and Eleanor used silks of various palettes for her gowns; silks were often costly embroidered in gold, silver, or metallic threads.  

According to historians, there was a striped fabric called ray, but it wasn’t widely used at Henry and Eleanor’s court. Woven in Wiltshire, linen was used for women’s headdresses and for undergarments for both sexes. Velvet would not be invented until the fifteenth century.

Before Eleanor of Aquitaine, the following hairstyles and headdresses were popular in England after the Norman Conquest:

  • Couvre-chef, which was a new name for the head-rail after the Norman invasion. The couvre-chef style was wear hair long, sometimes to point of having to be knotted off the ground, and tended to hang down on either side of the face, worn with a circlet to hold it in place.
  • Hair uncovered. By 1125 women began to appear in public with their hair uncovered, usually worn parted down the middle and plaited in various ways.
  • Extreme Length, which echoed in sleeve length. At times, the illusion of long hair was aided with fake hair, ribbons, silk tubes with tassels, and attached metal cylinders.

Eleanor of Aquitaine brought new hairstyles and headdresses in England.

Barbette was supposedly introduced by Eleanor of Aquitaine. It was a band of linen encircling the face and pinned into place. At first it was only worn by royal ladies with a circlet or coronet, but over time this hairstyle was eventually adopted by all classes.

Wimple appeared approximately in 1190, by the time when Henry II was already dead. In this headdress, a long fine linen or silk was draped underneath the chin, across the throat, and the ends were pinned at the crown of the head. It was always worn together with a long veil and usually a circlet.


Eleanor of Aquitaine: By the Wrath of God, Queen of England, Alison Weir

Eleanor of Aquitaine. A Biography Book, Marion Meade

Queen Eleanor, Independent Spirit of the Medieval World: a Biography of Eleanor of Aquitaine, J.B. Lippincott


小比企稲荷神社(2017/08/04) Kobiki-Inari-Shrine

東京都八王子市小比企町   Kobikimachi, Hachioji, Tokyo, Japan


You’re Gonna Get Sick

Word Count: 1190

    A/N: this was a cute request and I hope I wrote it well for you! Sorry about my inactivity. I’m trying to move and it’s super stressful and time consuming but I’m gonna get onto writing more. Much love


    Y/N ran through the rain, holding her coat over her head in an attempt to stay dry. Of course tonight was the night she decided to go with a lighter jacket, one without a hood unlike the jacket she usually wore. So now here she was, feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment because she thought for sure she looked like an idiot running through the pouring rain with a coat over her head. She finally was almost to her apartment building when she noticed a dark figure sitting on the steps. Fear and curiosity hit her all at once, wondering why someone would sit out in the open rain and who the mysterious person could be. She slowed her running, proceeding with caution. As she neared the person, she recognized the grey beanie sitting upon the persons head and saw that it was her best friend Jughead. He looked up and saw her approaching, and stood from his seat on the steps.

    “Jughead, what are you doing out here?” Y/N yelled, running up to the beanie clad teen. He gave her his signature smirk, and walked down the remaining steps.

    “I was just waiting for you.” he said. Y/N noticed he was absolutely soaked, his clothes dripping, although she wasn’t completely dry either so she couldn’t judge too harshly.

    “Jughead, you’re soaked! You’re going to get yourself sick! Why were you waiting for me out here?” she asked, worry present in her voice. Jughead smiled hearing it though, she was one of the only people who ever worried about him. It made him feel good.

    “Well I can’t exactly get into the building without living there, so I had to wait out here.” he said, giving a slight chuckle. Y/N noticed as he shivered, and she realized how cold he must be. She took the jacket she was holding over her head and placed it around his shoulders.

    “You’re freezing! You’re going to get yourself sick Jughead, I’m sure whatever you were waiting for me for could have waited until it wasn’t pouring.” she mumbled, pulling the jacket tight around him. She looked up to meet his eyes and realized how close she was to him. He was already staring down at her though, something sparkling in his eyes and a small smile adoring his face. Y/N chewed on her cheek, trying to push back a blush she felt threatening to show.

    “You know you’re cute when your worried about me.” Jughead said, catching Y/N off guard.

    “I-uh. What?” She stuttered, taken aback by the comment.

    “I came here because I wanted to tell you something. I rang the buzzer to your apartment and when no one answered I decided to wait for you. It wasn’t raining when I made that decision.” he said, earning a small laugh from her.

    “You should have gone somewhere dry when it started.” she tried to scold, but he rolled his eyes.

    “No, what I have to tell you is important. So important in fact that I don’t care if I get sick from waiting.” he said, pulling Y/N closer to him. Her breath caught in her throat and she stared wide eyes up at him, waiting for his next move because only the lord knew she was too scared to make a move herself.

    “Y/N, I’ve been worrying myself sick anyways trying to read our relationship. I was so scared that if I did what I’m about to do, that I’d fuck everything up and I’d lose you forever. But I’m tired of hiding how I feel about you, I’m in love with you.” Jughead said, confidence and affection laced in his voice. Y/N smiled wide, placing her hand on his cheek and pulling herself up to meet his lips. He smiled into the kiss, and held her by the waist. The kiss was slow and experimental, neither of them had kissed eachother before so it was a bit awkward. When they pulled apart, Y/N giggled as rain dropped off their faces.

    “You’re so cliche.” she teased Jughead. “Confessing your love for me in the pouring rain.”

    “Hey, you’re the one who decided to kiss me in it so you’re just as guilty.” he laughed and she rolled her eyes, standing on her toes to kiss him once more. This time it was more passionate and loving, their lips seeming to be the perfect matching puzzle pieces. It felt so completely right. Jughead pulled back, resting his forehead against Y/Ns and he stared lovingly down at her.

    “Oh, I don’t think I’ve said this yet, but I love you too.” Y/N said quickly, earning a laugh from Jughead. Somehow, the rain started coming down harder and Y/N ran to the door of the building, using the code to open the door to let herself and Jughead in. She turned to see if the raven haired boy was following her, but he wasn’t. Instead he was standing out in the rain still, staring up at her.

    “Stop staring and come inside! We need to get you out of those wet clothes!” she laughed, motioning for him to walk through the door. Jughead raised his eyebrows at her and smirked.

    “You want to get me out of my clothes already? I mean we just had our first kiss, you might want to slow down there.” he teased, winking up at her. She blushed furiously and rolled her eyes.

    “I mean we’re getting you into some dry clothes so you don’t get a cold, dumbass.” She joked and he walked up the steps and inside. For a minute they just stood in the hall creating a puddle in front of the door. He held out his hand and she took it, together they walked to her apartment and she opened the door, letting the two of them in.

    “To my bedroom.” She said, pulling him along.

    “What did I just say about taking things slow?” he said and she turned and punched him in the arm.

    “Keep dreaming.” She retorted and Jughead chuckled. She went to her drawers and started rummaging around.

    “I will.” Jughead said and she turned and threw flannel pants and a sweatshirt at him. “Why do you have men’s clothing?” He asked, looking at the clothes she threw at him.

    “They’re baggy and comfortable. Lots of room for activities.” she joked, picking out a pair of pjs for herself. Jughead laughed, looking at the beautiful soaked girl in front of him. He then sneezed, feeling a bit woozy.

    “Bless you.” Y/N called over her shoulder. Aaah-chooo! Y/N turned around, and walked over to Jughead, placing her hand on his forehead.

    “Oh god Juggie, you’re sick already! What did I tell you!” she scolded. “Get out of those clothes and I’ll go make you some tea!” she said, discarding the dry clothes she was going to put on and turning to go to the kitchen. Jughead watched as she left, and he smiled. So what if he got a little cold, tonight was definitely worth it.

Originally posted by badwolfgirlatbakerst

Tag List:

@do-not-call-me-sunshine @gelattoes @xbobaaa @katshrev @farmfreshcoldsprouts @sgarrett49 @always-chocolate @nadya0128

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said, I felt my eyes water and my heart begin to break,

“Then, why? Why are you leaving me?” I cried. His head fell, he cast his eyes to the ground and said,

“I just don’t love you anymore.”

—  Excerpt from a book I will never write #1190 // it’s over // @kaydavis167 on Instagram 
Am I still dreaming?“ he muttered. "But the other dreams were horrible.”
“You’re not dreaming at all, Master,” said Sam. “It’s real. It’s me. I’ve come.”
“I can hardly believe it,” said Frodo, clutching him. “There was an orc with a whip, and then it turns into Sam! Then I wasn’t dreaming after all when I heard that singing down below, and I tried to answer? Was it you?”
“It was indeed, Mr Frodo. I’d given up hope, almost. I couldn’t find you.”
“Well, you have now, Sam, dear Sam,” said Frodo, and he lay back in Sam’s gentle arms, closing his eyes, like a child at rest when night-fears are driven away by some loved voice or hand.
—  The Return of the King, The Tower of Cirith Ungol, p.1190 or