Frodo: Sam hates Gollum, but that is what I shall become once I have lost myself to the ring... he’ll despise me...
Sam if Frodo did turn into a Gollum: That’s a very nice fish you caught with your bare hands, Mr. Frodo, and its very smart of you to eat it raw, saves us the trouble of starting a fire. I knitted you a sweater in case you get cold running around in that loincloth of yours. Is the sun hurting your eyes? I’ll kill it if it’s bothering you. I’ll kill the sun
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katniss: "I could easily kill peeta, he isn't human anymore"
gale, right after: "do you want me to kill him?"
katniss: *unnerved, offended, taken aback, cannot believe he had the audacity to say that*
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Professor!Ghost who is well respected in his field, a little harsh in terms of grading, and not great with keeping office hours, but beloved by his students. I desperately want to stick him I philosophy where he BELONGS, I know he's got all sorts of complicated feelings and thoughts on humanity and it's nature, but he could also be a history professor, specifically teaching the history of combat/war. He doesn't socialize much, doesn't know anyone in his department, doesn't want to. He has his regular drinking group, the 141, and he's happy with that. He just wants to teach his class, write his papers for his special interest, and go home to watch the footie game.
Love walks into his class in the middle of lecture and he gruffly asks her to take her seat. She looks around and plops her butt down in the front row, dutifully listening and making the correct facial expressions the whole rest of class. Ghost tries not to pay too much attention to her, but she's all sweet smiles and a short skirt, biting her finger and crossing/uncrossing her legs one too many times to not be purposeful. She doesn't even have a notebook. It's only once Ghost checks his watch and asks if there's anything else before class is over that she raises her hand, flashing those pretty pink nails for the rest of the class. Ghost begrudgingly calls on her and has to stop himself from flinching when she says,
"I'm teaching history of human sexuality and its been cross listed with philosophy, I was told you were who I should talk to about recommended readings for that?" With the sweetest voice he's ever heard, soft and sultry and terribly distracting the way she leans forward against the lecture hall desk, like she's hoping he'll peak down her shirt.
"I don't have any," he does.
"Sounds like you do," she smiles.
"You're in the department, find them yourself." Ghost grouches, moving on to the next raised hand.
"Anthropology actually," Love corrects him, "or else I would have."
Ghost lets out a frustrated growl, grumbling to himself as he walks to his podium and scribbles down his office hours, stalking back and snapping the paper into her hand. "Ask me when I'm not in class."
"How about over dinner?" He glares and she laughs, "fine, just office hours, I'll see you then."
Ghost does his best to ignore her as she stands to go, eyes darting over his schedule as she walks. God dammit. He would've gone to faculty meetings if he knew something that pretty and dangerous was walking around.
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