doomsday_disco

This one’s a holiday scent for all the Archive of Our Own regulars, proud teratophiliacs, and slashfic aficionados: those brave, unblushing souls who know exactly what tags they’re filtering for and aren’t afraid of a little (or a lot of) morally-ambiguous monster romance. A filthy-sweet gourmand gone feral: scorched caramel and dark cocoa nibs tangled with warm, skin-slick musk, a crack of black leather, a swirl of brandy, and the faint metallic scrape of chains dragged across a bedroom floor.

Snake Oil and Candied Pomegranate.

Red Amber and Pomegranate.

A snowy, chilled pomegranate slurry.

Pomegranate Popcorn.

Pomegranate Molasses.

Pomegranate Loukoumi and Champagne.

Pomegranate Candy Canes.

Pomegranate and Smoked Cacao.

Pomegranate and Scarlet Chypre.

Pomegranate and Red Rose.

And a drop of wildflower honey.

Pomegranate and Pistachio Cream.

Pomegranate and Cathedral Incense.

Pomegranate and Burning Leaves.

Pomegranate and Black Pine.

Pomegranate and Black Fig.

The dark, roasted bite of freshly crushed coffee beans folded into the sinuous heat of Snake Oil’s infamous bestseller. Bitter espresso grounds smoldering under a curled-up hiss of sugared patchouli, spiced amber, and velvety vanilla.

Pumpkin custard swirled with thick eggnog, dark roast coffee, grated nutmeg, soft cinnamon, and a drizzle of brown-sugar syrup.

Dust-soft vellum, cracked leather, and yellowed pages exhaling their ghost of vanillin, a triple shot of espresso, and a deft swirl of warm, velvety microfoam.

My Lolo used to make these every Sunday. A swirl of nostalgia: cold, creamy coffee ice cream melting into a fizz of root beer, turning effervescent bubbles into caramelized satin.

Freshly roasted coffee beans releasing their dark, velvety warmth amongst ribbons of molten caramel and a haze of deliciously radiant golden amber.

The perfume of French Quarter mornings: rich chicory coffee, earthy and bittersweet, drifting through the powdered-sugar clouds of warm beignets dusted to luminosity.

Soothing, warm and quietly radiant: espresso kissed with honey, swirled into warm steamed milk, and crowned with a dusting of cinnamon.

Voluptuous Bulgarian rose unfurls like crimson silk, met by the dark, resinous warmth of freshly cracked coffee beans.