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Showing results for tags 'yule'.
Found 102 results
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May Christmas shed lustre around you. Amber-illuminated roasted chestnut, cardamom, caramel, and allspice.
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Black patchouli, obsidian, and oudh. This is definitely dominated by the black patchouli on me, but it's not an especially gnarly patch - just very earthy and grounding. I don't get a whole lot of oudh but I'm hoping it comes out more with a little ageing, and as for the obsidian - I confess, I'm not entirely sure what that could be. I'm not smelling anything like a stone or glass note, but it might be a type of musk. Not black musk... something a little softer. In fact, the whole thing is softer than the notes might lead you to believe. All in all this is pretty much what I was hoping it would be so I'm very glad I bought a bottle. If you're a patchouli lover, you won't be disappointed.
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On Monday, when the sun is hot I wonder to myself a lot: “Now is it true, or is it not, “That what is which and which is what?” On Tuesday, when it hails and snows, The feeling on me grows and grows That hardly anybody knows If those are these or these are those. On Wednesday, when the sky is blue, And I have nothing else to do, I sometimes wonder if it’s true That who is what and what is who. On Thursday, when it starts to freeze And hoar-frost twinkles on the trees, How very readily one sees That these are whose—but whose are these? On Friday—— Hot, sunny cardamom amber and milky musk, honeyed rice and snowy slush.
- 9 replies
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- 2025
- November 2025
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(and 3 more)
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Here is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now, bump, bump, bump, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin. It is, as far as he knows, the only way of coming downstairs, but sometimes he feels that there really is another way, if only he could stop bumping for a moment and think of it. And then he feels that perhaps there isn’t. Anyhow, here he is at the bottom, and ready to be introduced to you. Winnie-the-Pooh. When I first heard his name, I said, just as you are going to say, “But I thought he was a boy?” “So did I,” said Christopher Robin. “Then you can’t call him Winnie?” “I don’t.” “But you said——” “He’s Winnie-ther-Pooh. Don’t you know what ‘ther’ means?” “Ah, yes, now I do,” I said quickly; and I hope you do too, because it is all the explanation you are going to get. Honey-slathered buttered toast, glittering amber beams of sunlight, warm milk, cotton stuffing, and cuddly roasted vanilla.
- 8 replies
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- 2025
- The Hundred-Acre Wood
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(and 3 more)
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A festive and urgently mammalian response to inclement weather: a pair of blushing musks daubed with French lavender, flecks of fresh snow, and trickles of chilled champagne.
- 10 replies
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- Yule
- Yule Main 2025
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(and 3 more)
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I don’t know if all kids love Krampus, but mine sure does. She first met him a decade ago at Dark Delicacies, where he was portrayed by our dear friend, Bill Rude. She loves Krampus so much that we took her to the Gnigl Krampuslauf in Salzburg in 2017. Her intention to join the Los Angeles Krampuslauf as a wee Krampus was curtailed by the pandemic, but hope springs eternal. Kids love horror. They’re attracted to the strange, the uncanny, the mysterious. This is why they love characters like Krampus, despite the threat of being scooped up into a bag and tossed into a river. Kids embrace horror. They always have. Children understand that the world is stitched together with shadows, and that sometimes the shadows have teeth. They’re drawn to the strange, the uncanny, the impossible; they see the edges where reality blurs. Horror is not a trespass for them, but a playground: a place where the monstrous becomes knowable, where fear becomes understanding. Terror tales are a ritualized fear, safely cocooned in myth. This is why they love figures like Krampus, even with his clanking chains and sacks full of disobedient little souls. To a child, Krampus is not simply a morality lesson or a grim parental warning – he’s a symbol of freedom, of things that are wild, dark, and uncontrolled. Children instinctively know that monsters serve a purpose, that they give shape to anxieties too formless to name. They let kids practice both bravery and defiance, and they teach kids that though the world can be frightening and unpredictable, they can traverse its tangled forests and survive the darkness. I believe that children also know in the deepest part of their mythic, dreaming souls that monsters protect, challenge, and guide. Sometimes, the monster under the bed is the only one who truly understands you. Kids love Krampus, not in spite of his menace, but because of it. His is the shadow that makes the light shine brighter, and the rattle of his chains reminds them that stories, both light and dark, belong to them. A playdate with monsters: crimson musk stirred into molten sugar, ruby pomegranate syrup, tart cherries, a dusting of clove-spun candyfloss, and a drizzle of warm vanilla resin.
- 3 replies
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- November 2025
- Yule Main 2025
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(and 3 more)
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The weather’s cold, so devilish hard My income friend, is suffering from the cramp, So please excuse this impecunious card, As all I’m good for is a used up. Sugared-crusted marshmallows and cinnamon candies.
- 1 reply
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- Creepo Yuletide Greetings
- Yule
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Voluptuous Bulgarian rose unfurls like crimson silk, met by the dark, resinous warmth of freshly cracked coffee beans.
- 5 replies
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- November 2025
- Yule
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(and 4 more)
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“Piglet,” said Rabbit, taking out a pencil, and licking the end of it, “you haven’t any pluck.” “It is hard to be brave,” said Piglet, sniffing slightly, “when you’re only a Very Small Animal.” Rabbit, who had begun to write very busily, looked up and said: “It is because you are a very small animal that you will be Useful in the adventure before us.” Piglet was so excited at the idea of being Useful, that he forgot to be frightened any more… Pink clover and wild strawberries, red bean paste, pink vanilla, sweet acorns, apple blossom, caramelized almond, and a shy puff of sugar.
- 5 replies
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- 2025
- The Hundred-Acre Wood
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(and 3 more)
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Not exactly my definition of a happy Christmas, but to each their own. Wild pansies, white honey, and frothy cream.
- 4 replies
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- November 2025
- Creepo Yuletide Greetings
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Espresso poured over lush condensed milk and a bright thread of lemon, sweetened with Licor 43 and finished with a dusting of warm cinnamon.
- 1 reply
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- November 2025
- Yule
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(and 4 more)
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Freshly roasted coffee beans releasing their dark, velvety warmth amongst ribbons of molten caramel and a haze of deliciously radiant golden amber.
- 4 replies
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- 2025
- November 2025
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(and 4 more)
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“O come and go with me, no longer delay, Or else, silly child, I will drag thee away.” — “O father! O father! now, now keep your hold, The Erl-King has seized me — his grasp is so cold!” The spell breaks like a sudden crack in an ice-bound lake. Opoponax incense and black oud plunging into a heart-stopping shiver of ambergris accord and eucalyptus leaf.
- 3 replies
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- 2025
- November 2025
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(and 4 more)
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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.
- 10 replies
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A bitterly cold, bone-white chypre; austere polar musk, vegan ambergris, and white tea combine to make a genteel, frigid perfume as bright and sharp as the first crack of glacial ice.
- 4 replies
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- November 2025
- Yule
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Nothing beats that classic fluffy, bouncy texture, rendered eternally moist thanks to shreds of fresh carrot, delicately spiced and slathered in lavender cream cheese icing – including the obligatory carrot on top, piped in purple frosting.
- 2 replies
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- 2025
- November 2025
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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.
- 4 replies
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- November 2025
- Creepo Yuletide Greetings
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Pumpkin custard swirled with thick eggnog, dark roast coffee, grated nutmeg, soft cinnamon, and a drizzle of brown-sugar syrup.
- 3 replies
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- November 2025
- Yule
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(and 4 more)
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A bloodless scent stitched together like delicate antique lace, with a hint of powdered violet, plum brandy, and gleaming aldehydes.
- 4 replies
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- 2025
- November 2025
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Strawberry preserves twisting through clouds of pink cotton candy and marshmallow fluff.
- 5 replies
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- 2025
- November 2025
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Winnie-the-Pooh sat down at the foot of the tree, put his head between his paws and began to think. First of all he said to himself: “That buzzing-noise means something. You don’t get a buzzing-noise like that, just buzzing and buzzing, without its meaning something. If there’s a buzzing-noise, somebody’s making a buzzing-noise, and the only reason for making a buzzing-noise that I know of is because you’re a bee.” Then he thought another long time, and said: “And the only reason for being a bee that I know of is making honey.” And then he got up, and said: “And the only reason for making honey is so as I can eat it.” So he began to climb the tree. He climbed and he climbed and he climbed, and as he climbed he sang a little song to himself. It went like this: Isn’t it funny How a bear likes honey? Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! I wonder why he does? Then he climbed a little further … and a little further … and then just a little further. By that time he had thought of another song. It’s a very funny thought that, if Bears were Bees, They’d build their nests at the bottom of trees. And that being so (if the Bees were Bears), We shouldn’t have to climb up all these stairs. He was getting rather tired by this time, so that is why he sang a Complaining Song. He was nearly there now, and if he just stood on that branch … Crack! “Oh, help!” said Pooh, as he dropped ten feet on the branch below him. The bees were still buzzing as suspiciously as ever. A golden gourmand for a philosopher. Wild clover honey buzzing with mead fizz, a gust of woodsmoke, and a dusting of ambered pollen.
- 5 replies
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- 2025
- November 2025
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After thirty years of reluctantly drinking coffee, Ted has become a bean aficionado thanks to a local shop called the Head Nut. Recently, we bought French vanilla and bourbon chocolate beans from them and ever since that day, Ted has been hooked. Of course, Ted’s morning coffee is the breakfast beverage equivalent to a cozy hug: a slow-simmered swirl of brown sugar melting into steamed milk, wrapped around the soothing, sweet warmth of vanilla-infused espresso.
- 4 replies
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- 2025
- November 2025
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(and 4 more)
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The perfume of French Quarter mornings: rich chicory coffee, earthy and bittersweet, drifting through the powdered-sugar clouds of warm beignets dusted to luminosity.
- 4 replies
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- 2025
- November 2025
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(and 4 more)
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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.
- 4 replies
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- Yule
- November 2025
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(and 3 more)
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