( Lance sniffs, eyeballs it skeptically, and by that time Ian's already taken a nice solid swig. He doesn't have any toxic masculinity, really, so there's no pretending he's fine with it. There's a displeased hiss, a wrinkle to his nose, a real distaste for the burn.
Moonshine isn't something you drink for pleasure, unless you're shopping around Ole Smoky who somehow makes it taste like the world's burn-iest salted caramel. Ad-hoc stuff like this is best to just shoot in bursts to get it over with. Luke tried his hand at making it off and on when the supply runs got too dry.
It was barely better than this. )
Yeah, or some orange juice or something, Jesus.
( It's purely psychological, the minute sensation of the urgency lessening. He knows it, it hasn't even begun to circulate yet, but who cares as long as it's working? )
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Moonshine isn't something you drink for pleasure, unless you're shopping around Ole Smoky who somehow makes it taste like the world's burn-iest salted caramel. Ad-hoc stuff like this is best to just shoot in bursts to get it over with. Luke tried his hand at making it off and on when the supply runs got too dry.
It was barely better than this. )
Yeah, or some orange juice or something, Jesus.
( It's purely psychological, the minute sensation of the urgency lessening. He knows it, it hasn't even begun to circulate yet, but who cares as long as it's working? )