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flowersforthemachines · 2 months ago

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Some facts about Davrin (and also Grey Wardens and griffons) gathered from the banters

I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).

Note: This list may not be exhaustive. I might have missed some something or didn't write it down because I considered it common knowledge. If you have anything to add, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from, though)

Note 2: Posts from this series (mostly) don't include information from banters specific to quests or between companions and faction members. I plan to do another playthrough to capture more of those and will add any relevant info to the character posts.

Other characters' posts: Bellara, Harding, Lucanis, Emmrich, Neve, Taash. I'm also planning a post about just the Lighthouse some time later

About Davrin

Family and past:

When he was a kid, Davrin broke his arm when his aravel sailed off a ridge

Davrin stlll considers himself Dalish and thinks that will never change

Davrin hasn’t seen his clan since he left the forest. He misses the clan (‘it comes and goes’), Dalish food – especially halla milk and butter — and the sense of a common purpose. The last is why he joined the Wardens

Eldrin lives on his own, not together with Davrin’s clan

Just like Bellara, when Davrin was little, he wondered what it was like to have his own house, shop at the market and make friends with outsiders

Davrin isn’t bothered by the idea of fighting the Elven gods because he never really believed in them, but he is worried about how the events of the Veilguard will impact the reputation of the elves

General:

Davrin drinks beer and wine

Davrin hums to himself :)

Davrin can speak some Dwarven

Davrin doesn’t get the Fade - it’s just too many things at once (the place where spirits live, origin of creation etc.). He has difficulties believing it because it’s something he can’t touch or see

Davrin would’ve left D’meta’s Crossing’s mayor to die

Davrin dumps griffon waste right into the Fade. No reservations about it whatsoever

Life with the Wardens:

Davrin says he never got used to hearing/sensing darkspawn after joining the Wardens

Davrin knows Ramish (protagonist of the Horrors of Hormkar)

The first group of Wardens Davrin fought with had a special system for fighting ogres. One of them would be “Cheese” (bait), drawing the ogre's attention while the others shot it with arrows (so Davrin can either use a bow or was always the Cheese)

Monster hunting:

Davrin can't take most books about monsters seriously, as they are not up to his standards

Fighting monsters is all about the thrill of the chase and tracking a target down rather than the victory

Davrin prefers to fight flesh-and-blood monsters rather than demons

Davrin takes full payment upfront when he hunts monsters for coin

Davrin has many monster trophies (Harding finds them disturbing)

Davrin does taxidermy

Relationships with other companions:

(In conversations with Bellara and Neve) Davrin genuinely believes Lucanis/Spite can kill them all

(In conversation with Harding) Davrin proudly says Lucanis couldn’t take him

Davrin made a little statue with a skull for a face as a gift for Emmrich’s colleague at his request

(If Emmrich becomes a lich) Davrin offers Emmrich to become a monster-hunting team (“Warden and lich. From darkspawn to demons, we've got you covered.”), thinking they could score a lot of coin

Davrin also offers Neve to set up shop together. “Minrathous Monsters and Murders. If it's claws and fangs stirring up trouble, we've got it covered.” Neve suggests Emmrich (and Manfred, if he's alive) joins them

Davrin and Neve met before the events of the Veilagurd on what Neve calls “The Vol Dorma Job”

About Assan and griffons:

Griffons like shiny things. Assan even once stole one of Bellara’s crystals (but later brought it back)

(If Sent to Arlathan Forest) Griffons seem to 'remember' patrolling the forest, like it's a genetic thing

(If sent to the Wardens) Griffons listen to Evka

There’s no definite age for when a griffon is ready to carry a rider. It’s more about size and discipline

(If Rook is in romance with Davrin) Assan gets a little moody/jealous after Davrin and Rook get together

Fade spooks Assan, so he doesn’t fly too far away from the Lighthouse

Assan eats pastries from the kitchen

Assan doesn't like eating vegetables, but Davrin got him to eat carrots after Taash pointed out he needed more fibre in his diet

Assan misses Manfred when he dies

Assan can dive underwater and eat fish

Assan is curious about Neve’s wisps

About Wardens/misc:

Wardens slip Worry Weed into each other’s ale for kicks (it causes paranoia)

There is no definite timeline of how long a blighted person can survive without the Joining. It all depends on the person

Evka is good at telling spooky stories

Weisshaupt has a world-class library with books over a thousand years old

Wooden carvings can become haunted if blood gets on them

Wardens usually eat cold gruel for meals. Nobody knows what's inside it

#dragon age the veilguard #dragon age veilguard #datv #dragon age #veilguard spoilers #davrin #emmrich volkarin #neve gallus #lucanis dellamorte #assan #datv banters #flowers.txt #meta #references #grey wardens #flowers blogs

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acynicalsweetheart · 19 days ago

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Could you please write high school reader with daddy issues and meeting Jimmy. She lies to her mother to drop her off at a friend's house just to see Jimmy. He grooms her and thinks he has power over her when one day she drugs him ties him up and rapes him when he wakes up. +using a dildo on him for funsies :3

pairing: jimmy x fem!reader

word count: 3.9k

dead dove do not eat: 18+, non-con/rape, dub-con, grooming sort of, age gap, daddy issues, daddy kink, drugs, smoking, virginity loss

author's note: hai no dildo on jimmy unfortunately LMFAO did try to follow everything else tho.. umm this took forever and ending is very rushed and very ass.. it’s this long cause i felt i had to make it a fic for the grooming aspect so . yah. interaction/feedback appreciated!!

You’re on your way home when this strange, shady type you’ve seen lurking outside of your school walks up to you. Is this it? The last moment of your life, the end, kaput? Okay, paranoia’s getting the better of you, might just be a new janitor or something—

“You got a lighter?” He asks ever-so-casually.

He’s… old. Real old. Like, fourty-something kind of old.

“What?”

“A lighter?” He makes a gesture with his hand, pretending to draw a lighter flame with his thumb.

“Umm… no,” why the hell would you have a lighter? “No I—I don’t, sorry.”

You didn’t think you looked that old. Or like you smoke, for that matter. It’s kind of hard to take offense to his words though, when he’s that cute. Cute in a hobo sort of way.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, hand gliding down his rough face like you not having a lighter is the worst thing since Elvis.

Is this what they call withdrawal?

“But I think they have some at the store.” You point your finger down the street, giving him a once-over and - for safety - deciding to add, “they’re cheap.”

“Forget it.” He tells you sternly, dismissing you with a wave of his hand like you’re cigarette smoke before walking away—opposite direction to the store.

You’re left there standing awkwardly, shifting your weight across your feet. Body moving before you have time to think, you trail after him.

“I can buy them for you, if you want,” ‘cause you’re a pushover and a people pleaser and an idiot all at once.

He scoffs, glances at you over his shoulder. “You think they’re gonna let a little girl like you buy lighters?”

“Well, I…” You can’t tell if he’s angry with you or if his face just naturally looks like that, pulled into a perpetual scowl.

“Just take ‘em,” he shrugs.

“Can’t you take them?” He might look broke, but surely—

“I would, if I was still allowed in the stores.”

“Oh.” You bite your lip, looking down at your shoes. That’s unbelievably hot. Is he a felon or something?

“Yeah. Oh.”

And so maybe you do end up taking a lighter, casually shoving it into your pocket and walking out of the store, egged on by a man you were convinced was the school janitor. You actually still aren’t sure if he is or not.

He leads you to some lightly secluded street. The sun’s setting and you should really get back home.

“Umm, here…” your hands shake when you hand it over, fingers brushing against his callused ones. “Mister—”

“Jimmy.” He grabs the lighter like it was his all along, like you didn’t just feel your heart falling out of your ass when you committed an actual crime for him.

“Jimmy,” you try out his name carefully, syllables rolling off your tongue in a way that tells you you’re meant to be.

“You know, since you were such a good girl for me,” Jimmy pulls out a cigarette from a package you didn’t know he had and holds it out for you to see. “Why don’t we share one of these?”

It takes a minute for you to get back on earth.

“Oh, I don’t… do that,” you scratch the back of your head, knowing all too well that you’d get a third degree ass beating if your mom knew. “Smoke, I mean.”

“Had my first cig at nine, you’ll be fine,” Jimmy says nonchalantly with the cancer-stick hanging from his lips, his gaze pressing you subtly as he glares up at you. “First time for everything.”

He’s too irresistible and you don’t want to seem like a pussy in front of the only cool, older guy to ever pay you attention.

So you give in. Lord help you.

“O—okay, umm,” you awkwardly take a seat on the pavement next to him, too scared to look him in the eye. “I don’t really know how to.”

“You know how to use a lighter, don’t you?” You wonder how many cigarettes he’s smoked to get his voice this rough. If it gets rougher for every cigarette.

“Yes…” Your experience goes as far as having only ever used matches to light candles.

Hands still shaking like crazy, you struggle to light his cigarette. Jimmy scoffs and you shrink.

“There.”

Once you finally muster up the courage to look at him, it’s clear how unimpressed he is.

“Saw what I did there? You gotta inhale like this,” Jimmy takes another drag and you feel a cough building up in your chest just by watching. “Try it,” he blows out, hands over the smoke.

“Okay…” Jimmy helps you hold the cigarette like he’s your father and you’re his baby and the dart is a spoon. Well, you weren’t wrong about the coughing.

“No, no,” for the first time since you met, his upside-down mouth goes upwards and your heart skips a beat. “Gotta do it twice, so you feel it here,” Jimmy presses his palm to your chest, accidentally brushing his fingertips against your breasts in the process.

“Oh.” You almost moan, thankfully covered up by your coughs.

Jimmy helps you till you get it right, till there’s no cigarette left to be smoked. He doesn’t even put it out, just drops it onto the ground.

“Better keep this a secret from mommy, huh?”

Heat of embarrassment spreads across your face like a wildfire of some sort, and you freeze up. It’s like Jimmy can see right through you.

“Yeah…” you reply quietly, playing with your fingers.

But maybe you end up having your first kiss that evening, exchanging cigarette-flavoured spit with a stranger whom you met only a couple of hours ago. Maybe you let his hand trail further up your thigh than what was appropriate.

And maybe you keep coming back for more.

Hanging out with Jimmy becomes a regular part of your schedule. The secrecy of it is even more of a thrill—feels just like those colourful pills he shows you that make you feel as if you’re on another planet.

Mommy dearest doesn’t know a thing, and daddy dearest… Well, Jimmy’s pretty much the closest thing you have to a daddy dearest.

He’s so different and so cool and you feel so ashamed that you let him touch you and kiss you.

Jimmy’s your new world—he shows you these grassy things that you can roll and smoke like cigarettes and make you all dopey. He shows you this trashy, thrashy music that makes your ears hurt, not just ‘cause it’s that loud but ‘cause it’s that bad. He shows you that fingers can go in holes and places you never knew, that mouths can go where nobody is allowed.

He shows you fun. You think you’re in love.

You think you should die.

Jimmy finishes up rolling his joint, exhaling the smoke right in your face once he’s lit it. “You know, you should call me Daddy while we try it.”

It. The new thing. For you, obviously. The fuck, the sex, the cherry-popping. Jimmy can practically smell your virginity on you.

“You can—you can… do that?” You question meekly, gaze zeroing in on his blunt, too scared to look him in the eye. Too scared to say a sentence properly around him, really. “I mean, it’s not wrong? It… feels kind of wrong, it’s what you call your dad.”

“Knew a guy who called his girlfriend mom in bed.” And that guy is Jimmy, a couple of months ago actually. Not his proudest moment. But what’s done is done.

“Eww,” you snort like he’s told a joke.

After a moment of awkward silence and two guitar solos from the background music, Jimmy puts the dart down, letting the fugly thing sit and burn on a makeshift ashtray in the form of a plate. After 30 years of smoking you’d think he’d be better at getting them to look fucking decent at the very least.

“So? You’re gonna let me fuck you?” Jimmy asks into your neck, kissing it lazily so there’s less of a chance of you turning him down.

“I… don’t know, Jimmy.” You say so quietly he has to physically exert himself to hear you. Shouldn’t have. “I mean, we don’t really know each other that well and I—“

Way to ruin the mood.

He pulls away from your neck, groaning out of pure annoyance. “Come on, don’t be such a fucking milksop.”

“…What’s a milksop?” You ask, wide-eyed and newborn.

God, you’re making Jimmy feel old. He has to deliberately simplify words when talking to you, speak in fucking baby phrases ‘cause you’re a baby and the only language you understand is goo-goo goddamn ga-ga.

“Forget it,” he pinches his nose bridge and tries to not combust, “just let me do it. You didn’t come all the way here just so we could sit and listen to Pantera, did you?”

You look at Jimmy like he is speaking an ancient foreign language.

Right. He forgot you’re not only incompetent but uncultured as well.

“You don’t even know how old I am, Jimmy, I could be—“ Off you go again with your incessant babbling. Just when are you going to realize that he doesn’t give a fuck?

“You’re legal, aren’t you?”

“Well yeah,” your head hangs lowly, the skin on your arms suddenly looking a lot more interesting so you start picking on it. “I am but, Jimmy, it’s like you don’t even care.”

Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy, in every fucking sentence. You want him so bad—you’re just too pussy to say it out loud, which is literally what he was trying to tell you. He’ll just simply have to show you.

Jimmy is overdue for some good ‘ol cherry-popping after all.

Resuming his biting on your neck, he says things the way they are to hear you gasp. “That’s ‘cause I don’t.”

“That sounds naughty…”

He almost bursts out laughing, keep talking like that and you’ll end up in a porno in no time.

“You’ll let me do it,” Jimmy bares your tits, pulling your dress down, “won’t you, baby?” ‘Cause a pet name or two is all it takes to get you to melt.

You’re pushed down onto the bed before you can even reply. Left in only your underwear before you can even blink.

“Okay, Jimmy…” you say timidly.

“Remember what I told you?” His fingers trail down your tummy till he finds your panties, the print and ribbon something you’re much too old to be wearing.

“Daddy,” your voice gets stuck in your throat when he palms your clothed mound. “Yes, daddy,” you correct shakily.

And Jimmy’s fingers slide underneath the fabric, struggling to fit two in your pussy. You’re squeezing him so tight he thinks they might fall off and get stuck inside you.

He doesn’t let you cum.

That’s an activity that takes place on Jimmy’s dick and nowhere else.

Once your panties are off and you’re naked like the day you were born in front of him—dripping onto the sheets, Jimmy lazily pulls his cock out and you stare like it’s your first time ever seeing one.

“Like what you see?” It’s a rhetorical question, there’s a 95% chance that you’re judging him. Shit looks more like a wild animal than a dick if Jimmy’s being entirely honest.

“Is it going to fit?” You’re blinking up at him with those awfully glossy eyes of yours. “Daddy,” you add a minute too late.

“Don’t know,” Jimmy tells you honestly.

He prods at your entrance, trying to find the right angle that will slide him right in after a nice little struggle. Your expression contorts every way, resembling a crumpled napkin more than your actual face.

“Ouch, Jim—I mean, daddy,” your eyes and mouth are wide open, looking like Jimmy’s impaling you with a knife and not his dick. “It hurts.”

Dramatic much?

“It’s supposed to hurt,” he keeps pushing in, managing to get a quarter of his tip inside. “Nobody ever tell you that?”

“No…” you heave out, gripping onto his arms for dear life as he very choppily forces himself into your hole.

Jimmy coos at you unenthusiastically, “poor little girl.”

(You are, probably never heard of sex till Jimmy mentioned it.)

He doesn’t let you get adjusted—immediately starting to fuck you harder, faster, rougher than one should a virgin. Jimmy’s popping your cherry, alright. Can even spot a thin red layer coating his dick already.

“Ow, ow, ow,” you whimper under your breath with every thrust into your cunt. Kind of hilarious.

“You like it.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“I… like it,” you repeat with the most pained look on your face, tears pricking at your lash lines.

Jimmy makes sure you feel all of his cock, drilling deep enough to feel your fleshy cervix ‘cause he’d like to hear you scream.

“Daddy,” you kick your legs, pussy struggling to keep Jimmy’s dick inside you. “Oh, daddy.” Not quite a scream.

“Yeah,” his eyes are glued to your stretched entrance, growing impossibly harder at the sight of your ruined pussy—ruined innocence. “Gonna make daddy cum already.”

“Not inside…”

Oh and now you’ve suddenly taken sex-ed classes?

Jimmy keeps slamming his hips into yours, the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout the room, he can hear you loud and clear over it. Purposely letting his groans loose so you really get the hint.

“Not inside, Jimmy, pleasepleaseplease not inside!” You claw anywhere and everywhere you can reach, trying to get him off. Didn’t he explicitly tell you to call him daddy?

“Huh?” His hips stutter against yours, movements turning sloppy as his balls tighten—readier than ever. “Can’t hear you, sweetheart.”

Just a moment later, Jimmy cums inside, shoots like a fucking pistol—bullets in the form of sperm straight into your womb.

You start sobbing.

Jimmy’s never been good at comforting so he rubs your clit in consolation.

“Better cum on daddy’s cock soon,” it’s like he’s speaking to a fucking brick wall. A crying, teenage-girl-shaped brick wall. “Getting pretty sensitive over here.”

Can’t exactly tell with your hands over your face but Jimmy thinks you cum, ‘cause you squeal and push his dick out.

Well, could’ve gone worse.

“I don’t wanna get pregnant,” you whisper between sniffles after receiving the thickest creampie Jimmy has ever given anybody. Uh huh.

He pulls out with a sloppy pop! and watches his cum mixed with your blood drip out of your gaping cunt, soaking through he’s sheets that he’s most definitely not going to clean.

Jimmy’s been smoking and drinking since before he fucking grew balls, do you seriously believe that his sperm’s going to knock you up? If Jimmy became a sperm donor, the only thing he’d be giving out is strains of herpes—not babies. To put things into perspective.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He tucks his softening dick back into his pants, “a plan-B should do the trick.”

“Okay…” you’re crawled up like a frightened mouse—a naked frightened mouse, all sorts of questionable fluids leaking out of all your holes. “Okay, Jimmy.”

At least you seem to know what a plan-B is. Jimmy half-expected you to go but Jimmy I didn’t have a plan-B! I didn’t even want to sleep with you in the first place! in that whiny voice you do that makes him want to light himself on fire.

And for safety’s sake—partly out of spite, “I heard they sell some at the store. Could get it for cheap.”

“You’re not gonna buy it for me?” You’re shaking like you have fucking hypothermia.

He shrugs. Only time not being allowed in stores has ever been of a convenience to Jimmy.

Once you’re dressed he ushers you out of his apartment that he hasn’t paid rent for in a couple of months.

“Bye.” Jimmy says slackly, pushing you out of the threshold to his place.

“But—“ you start frantically, confusion written all over your features.

He shuts the door in your face. Locks it, twice.

Through the peephole of his door, Jimmy can see how you’re limping like a lamb born yesterday on the way out. He bets your mommy ain’t gonna be too happy about that.

You’re so sick and tired of Jimmy treating you like shit. How is he allowed to do that and get away with it? Every single time.

He’s a sad sack of pure sleaze and you can’t believe you let him take your virginity all those months ago.

You sneak into his place unnoticed because he’s such a sad sack of pure sleaze that he hasn’t even locked his door. He’s asking for it.

From the hallway you can see that his glass is empty. Jimmy’s rolling one of those grassy things again, watching the TV and listening to his shitty music. You haven’t even seen Jimmy’s face yet but you know that he looks thirty years older every time you do.

Disgusting.

You’ll sleep with him one last time.

You trail into the kitchen with the stealth of an elephant, knocking over a lone empty beer can on the floor in the process, yet Jimmy doesn’t seem to notice.

Rummaging through his cabinets, you’re reminded of this conversation between Jimmy and his really cute friend with a very unusual name that you can’t remember. Jimmy was telling him about the roofies he keeps in the fourth cabinet while his friend just laughed awkwardly.

They should do the trick.

Rohypnol reads the package, half of the pills are missing. Foul. But then again—this is Jimmy you’re talking about.

You put a singular green oval pill in his drink, watching it dissolve and colour the alcohol a shade weirder.

Jimmy groans from the living room and you scramble to hide underneath his table like a scared little kid. Your freak of a not-boyfriend - ‘cause he never did ask you out - actually drinks the shit in one gulp.

After a moment he stumbles into his bedroom and you think he passes out ‘cause you hear obnoxiously loud snores echoing throughout the entire apartment.

Guess this is your time to shine. And… fuck.

Fuck, that word is so unnatural—so vulgar. And Jimmy uses it so casually.

To embarrass him the way he’s embarrassed you countless times, you undress the entirety of Jimmy’s body apart from his feet—never his feet.

You decide that restraining Jimmy might be for the better ‘cause he’s like a wild fucking rabid animal when he’s drunk. Actually, you don’t know if he is drunk but all for safety’s sake, right?

You’re trying to make this as un-personal as it can be but Jesus he is hot. You just have to feel him up one last time. How there’s not one area that’s not covered in at least some hair, cute brown and puffy nipples, and his dick.

The one that sits there sadly and all alone, giving you puppy eyes.

Maybe it’s a miracle that Jimmy is soft so you can play with it for just a little. Maybe it’s a shame that Jimmy’s not awake to grab your hair and force you down all the way till you’re gagging and choking around him.

Once he’s hard you slide off your panties and bare one of your tits ‘cause you’re feeling kind of bad for Jimmy against your will. How he’s the only one naked.

Sliding down on his cock, it feels just like the first time—stings like hell. But this is your revenge after all so you suck it up. Bounce up and down until your slickness can’t keep quiet and is coating his length.

It actually feels good when you’re the one in control for once. When you have time to adjust, to feel it inside you in a way that feels more like sex than getting stabbed repeatedly.

Jimmy’s eyes do that weird back and forth thing that looks a little demonic—his body twitches like you’re an exorcist and not a technical rapist. He’s fighting against literal sedatives, it’s kind of funny.

You keep riding him.

All Jimmy remembers is thinking that he’s gonna get another drink and get back to his nice fucking joint before he very oddly lost consciousness. Shit was a real scare, thought he died and went straight to hell for a second.

No—the real scare is that he’s awoken by a weight in his lap, a death grip around his dick like somebody’s trying to rip it off, and most importantly, you.

You’re the weight in his lap, the death grip around his dick because of course you fucking are.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jimmy asks very rightfully angry. Let a man smoke for fuck’s sake.

Moving your hips back and forth like it’s your first time horseback riding, you counter with a half-aborted, “shut—shut up, Jimmy…”

Yeah, that’s real convincing. You can’t even get the words out without stuttering. Probably the first time you’ve ever told somebody to shut up in your life.

“No.” Jimmy is a man and men do not take orders from women let alone little girls.

You slow your pace and Jimmy is about to push you off when he notices that he fucking can’t because he’s tied up like he’s in a torture chamber.

Creativity must not be your strong suit seeing as you’ve used three of his belts and a pink sparkly jumping rope for his left foot.

“Fuck,” he thrashes in your makeshift bondage fantasy come to life, “get off me, bitch.”

“No.” You tell him and force your polka-dot fucking panties in his mouth.

They taste good so who’s really losing here?

“I’ll kill you,” Jimmy tries to say with your underwear down his throat. It comes out inaudible and muffled and you fucking laugh.

“Mmm, yes, kill me, Jimmy.” You run a cold finger down his chest, put on this sexy voice. “That’s so hot.”

He can’t tell if you’re joking or if you’re just being fucked up like always.

“I’m serious,” it’s like he’s fucking chewing the fabric.

“You’re sexist? That sounds right.”

Jimmy fucking gives up, flopping down all boneless onto the mattress and glaring at the ceiling ‘cause he can’t stand your face. “Oh my God.”

Contrary to what Jimmy’s saying and doing, he actually quite enjoys it. Well, he would have, were you a fraction of a better rider. This is exactly why you don’t let virgins stick around. Either way, he wants you to stop because you’re fucking embarrassing him—he’s stuck underneath you like a damn sissy. And you can’t even get him let alone yourself off. Should just fucking give up and let Jimmy take care of the raping.

He’s been there, done that.

He endures your clear first attempt at roofying for about five minutes until you force yourself to cum. You’re obviously faking it for whatever reason, squeezing out ooh’s and ah-ah-ah’s like a pornstar.

“Fucking ugly slutbag,” Jimmy decides to add as his dick kicks inside you, a couple of more bounces away from filling you up the way he knows you like it.

“Whatever you say, Jimmy.”

And your bitch-ass just gets up and leaves. Jimmy is stuck in your makeshift restraints, panties in his mouth and butt fucking naked. Ruined orgasm at that. Fucking cunt.

He’s going to burn your goddamn house down.

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