doomsday_disco
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Everything posted by doomsday_disco
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Mandarin A strawberry stain on scarlet silk: strawberry nectar and translucent lychee folded into rock sugar and creamy sandalwood.
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French A sweet whisper against the throat: raspberry coulis and cassis steeped in powdered sugar and rose syrup, melting into benzoin, tonka bean, and a soft blush of white musk.
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Blushing ruby chocolate swirling with vanilla, spices, and the dark, silky sweetness of Snake Oil.
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You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I’ll rise. – Maya Angelou Under a terrible moon, tides still answer the pull. Roots still find water. Breath still moves from body to body, unseen and unstoppable. To keep breathing together is to refuse erasure and deny despair. Authoritarianism thrives on isolation and fascism feeds on hopelessness. We are living through a terrible moon, indeed, but we are not alone. You are not alone. Every breath you take is an act of defiance. Every hand you reach for refutes the lie that you stand by yourself. We will get through this together. A protective, communal scent to call one another closer and stand united against the darkness. A scent to remind us that even now, especially now, we rise. Smoldering beeswax illuminated by honeyed amber, an embrace of skin musk, body-warmed wool, cacao-dusted sandalwood, and cardamom milk.
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May your deeds be shown to your servants, your splendor to their children. May the favor of the Lord our God rest on us; establish the work of our hands for us — yes, establish the work of our hands. Also known as salep root and Helping Hand, this orchid root has been used as a tool of success, wealth, and good fortune, bringing blessed luck to everything your five fingers can touch. It’s a gambling root that blesses risk-takers, but is also a tool for craftsmen, laborers, artists, and all who work with their hands. A deep earthy perfume entwined with orchid petals.
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White Lilac and Moss.
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Macabre domesticity; a little warmth for a long eternity. A tender absurdity of frozen grins reflecting in the sooty iron of a merrily-aflame stove. Banked coals of labdanum pulse with amber flame, while a dusting of clove, coal ash, and brittle vanilla scuffs the hem of dusty patchouli linen. James Ensor
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Workman Displaying His Sexual Prowess and Gigantic Size of His Member in a Variety of Situations
doomsday_disco posted a topic in Lupercalia
Vanilla-soaked sandalwood, apricot mash, brandy, and white ginger. -
Dark, dewy patchouli leaves gathered under the moon’s silvery gaze, their earthy aroma rooted deep with forest shadows and resinous moss.
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“If I were chust your doggie. I know vot I vould do, Effry place vot you vould go I vould be going, too!” A warm slab of Kirschenmichel served with a cup of blue chamomile tea.
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My eyes behave the way they do Cause my thoughts are all of you! Doggone it! Cherry-chip brookie batter garnished with a sprinkle of freshly cut grass.
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Welcome to your new home: warm cedar planks, a tousled cotton blankie, and a red leather collar complete with bright gold chain.
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An invitation: black amber and pink peony sealed in a creamy white paper envelope.
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Coyote Moon: Desert Sage and Palo Santo Lotion
doomsday_disco replied to doomsday_disco's topic in Lotion
I love this one. The palo santo in this reminds me of the palo santo in TAL Security Blanket, which has a very cool feel to it, and it pairs perfectly with the desert sage note. It's not the same as the purple sage note in Wolf Moon: Purple Sage and Pinon Hair Gloss, but I feel like if you like the sage vibe in that one, and enjoy palo santo, that you will enjoy this scent as well. It's a very comforting scent. I absolutely need a bottle. -
Desert Sage and Palo Santo.
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Winners only beyond this point! Blue hydrangea, airy white musk, and pink jasmine buds.
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Serbian / шљива A plum-soaked kiss smoldering with clove and anise, and a sultry exhale of dusky brandy.
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Finnish A playful, tidy, sweet bruise: chilled blueberry cardamom cream.
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Apricot, cream musk, bourbon vanilla, and golden bergamot.
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“We must not look at goblin guys, We must not buy their truffles: Who knows what chocolate they wiped On their pantaloons and ruffles?” “Come buy,” call the goblins Hobbling down the glen With their choco pies. Sorry, that was terrible. Coconut covered chocolate lumps, gnarly patchouli, and sweet benzoin.
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“The intense horror of nightmare came over me: I tried to draw back my arm, but the hand clung to it, and a most melancholy voice sobbed, ‘Let me in – let me in!’ ‘Who are you?’ I asked, struggling, meanwhile, to disengage myself. ‘Catherine Linton,’ it replied, shiveringly (why did I think of LINTON? I had read EARNSHAW twenty times for Linton) – ‘I’m come home: I’d lost my way on the moor!’ As it spoke, I discerned, obscurely, a child’s face looking through the window.” A ghostly feminine perfume rising from the stiff binding of old diaries. Violet leaf and antique rose curl through the air, smeared with ink.
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Creamy coconut flesh, cold and pale as moonlight.
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Patchouli and Smoked Vanilla.
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By loving friends you are surrounded, Oh, be not blind to this, I pray. They wish that joy and mirth unbounded May crown your happy Christmas day. Winter oak, hazelnuts, and butterscotch rum.