#droogie

[vikktorya]

what if alex was the one who became a cop🕴

(note: i tried to add the reference of georgie and dim's numbers on their uniforms (665, 667) but since it is alex (the one who stood between them) i added a 666, but it's not really visible 🥲)

[surfs-up-brian]

Real

[sleepydogz]

A Clockwork of Oranges, How it be Droogies?

[r33333333]

[blondrichclosetwitch]

I was crossing the park when I checked my email and saw that there had been a plane crash in Brazil.

The hair on my arms stood on end. My mind went to last night when blinded by the light played. It hadn’t played in months.

(In March 2022 I woke with it in my head, and it just kept playing in my mind. So I went to the roof to figure it out. I could tell there was some message for me to get from the buzzing in my body.

The first time I sang it, I was still unclear.

But the 2nd time, I saw a plane crash. I gasped. And sobbed a lot. Then I grabbed my phone and posted “there’s going to be a plane crash”.

The next morning the news reported there had just been a plane crash in China. )

Last night when it played it crossed my mind that we might be hearing about a plane crash today, but you just don’t know til you know.

It’s easy to cling to other things in that song, especially because that was the first song I heard Blue talking through:

“But mama, that's where the fun is.”

And because it talks about calliope crashing into the ground, which is one of the things the spirits use to refer to me, with all my poetic license, and falling.

What hits me the most about this is the way they talk about things before they happen. What does that say about destiny and free will and spirits knowing about what will happen to us before we do?

[doomergroomer]

Hangin out w Sun Ra Arkestra talmbout flat earth, the Devil, and history is lies

[guitarhomebrasil]

Após VINTE E TRÊS ANOS, @martyfriedman passando o som com o @megadeth !!!! Posted @withregram • @wegadeth 🥲🥲🥲‼️‼️‼️ #megadeth #martyfriedman #marty #mustaine #davemustaine #rustinpeace #droogies https://www.instagram.com/p/CpENt3UuysB/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[eddiemunson-reader-shame]

Be My Wife: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: A “friend” freaks out when you split a Coke with Eddie the Freak.

Warnings: references to A Clockwork Orange, bullying, STI/STD mention, backwash drinking

A/N: So… I know this isn’t a Christmas fic. But I wrote this because I had those times in my youth where someone spread horrid rumors about either me or my friends, and I had to make those split second decisions to determine my loyalty. I always try to be loyal as best I can.

Thank you to @writhingg for giving the green light on this fic. And big thanks to @rxqueenotd and @melodymunson as well. And big thanks to viewers like you. Thank you. ❤️

Resources: @strangergraphics-archive for the dividers.

Taglist: @ali-r3n @melodymunson @twihard28

“Hey droogie, can I have a sip of your Coke?”

You looked up from where you were perched on the pony wall by the Seven Eleven bike rack. You had been chatting with a classmate, Chessie Hagar, about purchasing a purse from her mother’s Avon Colorworks catalog. It was a new collection for the year 1977. Said eye catching magazine with its spread of rainbow themed products was currently held between the two of you, and the pages began to rattle as Chessie shook in fear upon hearing the deep voice.

A flutter-smack sounded from the girl dropping the catalog when Eddie The Freak approached. His stride was casual as one could be, whilst battling both midwestern humidity and pit sweat in a white hand-me-down Jimi Hendrix shirt and sleeveless denim vest. As one of the middle schoolers who had been blessed with a growth spurt, his lanky height, shredded second hand clothes, and shaved head often made those in your grade— and some of those above— piss their pants.

You alone did not fear him.

The Fates had elected to weave you both in a tangled web of coincidences: you had been his project partner in every shared class since you started at Hawkins Middle School together, and you just so happened to live in the same neighborhood on occasion. The distance from Al Munson’s janky two bedroom home to yours was but a hop skip and a jump. Eddie used to ding dong ditch your house when he was six, until one day your mother caught him by the ear and brought him in to mend his tattered jeans and offer up a hot meal.

To any other rando, he was an unstable pariah. But to you, he was just Eddie Munson— the cute boy next door who sometimes ate at your place. And you had become his droog after spending winter 1972 sneaking into the Hawk Theater, and making Stanley Kubrick films your new big boy personalities.

Without thinking, you handed the soft drink over. His fingers brushed against yours as he took the Coke out of your grip and went for a swig, with plush pink lips wrapping around the transparent jade glass of the lip and neck. His protruding Adam’s apple was bobbing with the rhythmic gulping, and you couldn’t stop staring.

“Thanks.” He belched out.

“You said a sip, not half the goddamn bottle!” You whined.

Eddie grinned sheepishly and backwashed a good mouthful. Giving a half assed apology and a promise to pay you back mumbled under his breath, he handed the bottle back.

“Still up for doing last minute project prep?” You asked, swirling the leftovers he’d saved for you.

“Nah, let’s take a break from the train wreck brothers. Catch you tomorrow, though?” He said, scratching a blackhead off his nose and snorting a bit, “I had an idea for the oral report that might earn us a little extra credit. Think you can mimic a British accent?”

“Eh. Can’t do an accent without sounding like fucking Alex DeLarge.” You groused.

“We can work on that. Leave your milk-plus at home, though. Don’t want me own droog reenacting some Roman ultra violence on me.”

“Just don’t go popping out from behind your curtains at me again, that’s a good way to get stabbed in the neck with my mom’s kitchen scissors.” You snorted.

“Ahhh, the droog’s no fun. I guess I can tone down the surprise pop ups, though. If you insist. Catch you later?” Eddie said, waving.

“Later. Peace out, man.”

Chessie let out a shaky, sobbing exhale when you made to drink the dregs of your soda, and you turned and raised an eyebrow.

“Whassamatter?” You asked.

“Are you nuts?! You just shared your drink with the freak!” She blurted out.

… since when the hell was sharing with Eddie a crime?

“Yeah, so? It’s hot out. He looked thirsty.” You said.

“Did you seriously forget everything we’ve heard about him?!” She whisper-screamed, “Don’t you care what everyone talks about?!”

You rolled your eyes. Everyone talked about Eddie. If you hadn’t heard at least one rumor from a faceless student whenever he walked by, you were either stupid or living under a rock. They said he was a bad boy— yes, even with a full vocabulary of slurs and insults available, they still called him a bad boy. Like if he was still in diapers drawing with crayon on the wall, and needed a spanking.

Depending on who you asked, Eddie either did or sold drugs, it was never clear which. Some of the other trailer park kids said he was a mean scrapper when he went to his uncle’s on alternate weeks. Women’s restroom lore stated that he carried a switchblade in the back pocket of his Wrangler jeans, and that he used it to torture animals for his Satanic rituals.

A million and one things were said about him on the daily, but you knew none of them were true in the slightest. None of the talk deterred you from spending time with him. Sometimes he came to your house, more often than not you went to his.

Every other day found the two of you parked in front of his mom’s turntable, jamming to Deep Purple and putting together an elaborate poster board with some spray painted fake leaves made into laurel crowns, along with a block of text about your chosen co-emperor of the early Roman Empire.

You had wanted to write about Caligula so you could use the word ‘orgy’ in the report without getting in trouble, but Eddie had insisted he had a better idea when he discovered a two years tumultuous ruling of brothers from 209 AD to 211 AD.

“As much as I love a good sex party on paper, you just know that’s what everyone else is gonna write about. Let’s write about this nut job Caracalla instead! Dude killed his brother in the arms of his mother, and struck his name from the record. That’s like, the most metal shit ever! Also, here’s a better word for you to learn: fratricide. Apparently there’s a whole list of technical terms for when you kill a family member.”

“… what’s the rumor mill gotta do with my Coke?” You deadpanned.

“If you drink after him, you’re gonna get mono like Cindy! You gotta throw it out!”

Cindy Bishop in your science class had told everyone that had functional ears— swearing up and down on her life— that Eddie Munson had kissed her and given her mononucleosis. A dreaded affliction whose nickname to you sounded like one of the variations of sound formats for any sort of audio.

“Mono…?”

“Yes! Or the syph!”

You knew Eddie had to have heard Chessie’s vitriol. Turning around, you could see him staring at the two of you from across the parking lot, one leg over his bike. There was a stinging look of betrayal on his face. Telltale signs of a wet cherry nose and shameful red cheeks gave away his mistrust; as if he was expecting you to do as your friend told, and throw the bottle he drank from in the trash.

His imaginary affliction was just that: imaginary. You knew that to be gospel.

The kiss with Cindy was real, unfortunately. It happened way before Cindy was kept home with mono, and you remembered the incident well. Eddie had come running to your house just to brag that he’d finally gotten his first kiss, and that pretty soon he’d be popping girl’s cherries left and right.

Just learning about the simple kiss had pissed you off, because the closest you’d ever gotten to kissing Eddie was sharing the same fork whenever you both roasted Vienna sausages on the gas burner in his kitchen. Eddie hadn’t been sick when Cindy stayed home, he came faithfully to school to trap you on the playground and speculate about the thousand and one hidden meanings behind the kiss.

With all the excitement, he never noticed the smallest details like you did. One of the guys in your PE class had been sent home with a rash and a high fever, and it was only a month after Cindy was rumored to have also kissed the collapsed boy that she got sick. You had always shared cups, utensils, and other things requiring mouth use with Eddie and had been fine. Yet Cindy and Tommy Hagan swapped spit once, and both were out of commission.

But no one would ever say anything about Tommy Hagan getting mono. They’d always redirect every disease outbreak to the poor loser who split time between Cherry Street and Forest Hills Trailer Park. The same poor loser who had the misfortune of wasting his first kiss with Cindy; a girl who frenched behind the portable classrooms with anything that had a pulse. People could be so blind and stupid, they failed to notice the sickness timelines were not matching up.

No one deserved their first anything to be with Cindy. Not with the way she stabbed people in the back.

You took a long, hard pause as you stared into Eddie’s wet brown eyes. He was asking you a silent question you already knew the answer to: were you a stinking traitorous droog, or a loyal one? Were you, his one friend in the entire world, going to stand against him?

Without saying a word, you looked at Chessie, then looked back again at Eddie.

In a world of traitors— where brothers stabbed brothers in the arms of their mothers, or where violent men disowned each other with drug laced milk bottles to the face, you would always pick instead to be Eddie Munson’s loyal droog.

You lathed at the lip of the bottle and stuck your tongue down the neck, and shotgunned all of Eddie’s backwash.

Chessie’s mouth dropped open as she began to gag, and Eddie opened his mouth in an obnoxious and breathless laugh as you chugged the entirety of his germs. The carbonation caught up to you, so you let a belch rip before turning back around to face him.

“I GOT YOUR MONO NOW, MUNSON!” You screamed out to him, “NOW YOU GOTTA MARRY ME!”

“IS THAT HOW IT WORKS, DROOGIE?” He shouted back, a shit eating grin stretched across his face, “YOU SHOULD HAVE LET ME KNOW BEFORE I TOOK A SWIG, I WOULD HAVE MADE SURE I GOT YOU A RING POP FIRST!”

“IT'S GODDAMN ROMAN CONFARREATIO LAWS, EDDIE! YOU GAVE ME MONO INSTEAD OF SPELT BREAD, NOW YOU GOTTA MARRY ME!” You joked.

You noticed from the big, smart ass grin that he was about to do something outrageous, and your heart began to sing. He immediately got to his knee on the asphalt, everyone in the Seven Eleven parking lot watching as he began to scream like an orator in the colosseum. He used your full government name and everything when he called out to the small parking lot audience.

“HEAR ME, CITIZENS OF HAWKINS! I AM BUT A VESSEL FOR THE GODS, A BEARER, A MESSENGER OF THAT MOST HOLY WORD FROM MOUNT OLYMPUS! I HAVE SHARED OF THE COOTIE WITH A WOMAN, AND THUS OUR MARRIAGE BETWEEN EMPEROR AND DROOG IS SOLEMNIZED-…!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, FREAK!” Someone called out, immediately flinching back when Eddie rounded on him.

“THE GODS. HAVE. SPOKEN!” Eddie screeched, a glob of spit flying out of his mouth and onto the hot asphalt.

He was wide eyed. Deranged. Eddie lifted up the hem of his denim vest and held it out and to the side, to look like wings unfurling, screaming to the heavens as you began howling with him.

“YEAH!” You screamed out, raising your bottle and shouting every bit of nonsense you could think of, “GOD SANCTIONED DROOG MARRIAGE CO-RULER ULTRA-VIOLENCE! MAZEL TOV!”

“THE IMPERIAL HUSBAND NOW DEMANDS TO KISS THE DROOG BRIDE!” Eddie screamed, “PLANT ONE ON ME, GODDESS DIVINE OF THE REPUBLIC OF HAWKINS!!”

You looked at Chessie, who looked as if she was going to throw up or scream. It wasn’t immediately clear which. Instead of ending the joke, you grinned. Shrugged. The glossy magazine paper pages of the forgotten Avon Colorworks catalog ripped under the tread of your shoes when— without warning— you took off towards Eddie, and planted a fat wet kiss on his mouth. He froze for a moment, but returned the kiss with fervor, making an obnoxious hum and wet smack when you pulled away.

“Yum.” You gushed, licking your lips and changing your cadence to the unhinged Kubrick Cockney, “Them’s tasty cooties, they are, brother sir!”

“Yeah? Them false cytomegalovirus germs are what taste good to ya, droog?” He laughed, wrapping his arms around you and putting on his own terrible accent.

“That they are, sir, that’s what gives all me food and drink that plus flavor.” You grinned.

The two of you cackled, thoroughly enjoying throwing out random quotes and various insanities that to the normal person would put them off of your insanity and edge-lord humor. Chessie had long since taken off for the gated community of Loch Nora on her bike, but you didn’t care. You could live without a selection of eyeshadows, a rainbow tote purse, and all of your false friends if the choice came down to choosing them, or Eddie.

“Wanna go into the gas station and split another bottle of mono before we blow this joint?” You asked.

His grin could have rivaled that of Malcolm McDowell.

“Now, how can I say no to my new wife?” He grinned, holding out his arm for you to take, “But I am a man of my word, so you’re getting a new Coke, plus that Ring Pop so’s we can make this thing official.”

“Spare no expense, huh?” You grinned, and he pulled you in closer. Both of your hips knocking together.

“Hey… Only the best and finest gems and refreshments for Empress Droog the First of Hawkins, Indiana.” Eddie said with a confident smile.

You smiled at him, nudging one another with your bodies all the way into the gas station, until he pulled you in for another sloppy kiss in the middle of the snack aisle.

[novuit]

Arthur on his way to the korova milk bar (the pub) to have a moloko plus (a pint) with the droogies (the UK brothers)

[gabbbyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy]

Little nicknames I would give the Nightmares because im very normal. Normal about them.

Xezbet: Bert on crack, Xaos’s even worse cousin, Gargamel.

Drugia: Droogie-woogie, Blue raspberry, Fluttershy. Blueretty

Barbatos: Durian, Bambam, Batos, Peach Cobbler, Barbie toes

Exael: Pinhead, Mayor of Frowntown

Abducius: Will Wood, Abdomen, Magnephobia (fear of magnets), Abdy,

Lilith: Lily, Lit, Birdbox

Anazareth: Annie, Oh Ana, Ballerina,

Chaugnar: King Babar, Chauga-Chauga-choo choo

Nyogtha: Frankie stein 2 mine.

Shub: Medusa, Snake eyes, ma’am? sorry ma’am?sorry ma’am? sorry

Zoth: Earthworm Zothy, Wyrm

Yog: unattractive ill-favored hideous plain plain-featured plain-looking unlovely unprepossessing unsightly displeasing disagreeable horrible frightful awful ghastly gruesome grisly unpleasant foul nasty grim vile shocking disgusting revolting repellent repugnant grotesque monstrous reptilian misshapen deformed disfigured homely not much to look at short on looks as plain as a pikestaff as ugly as sin fugly no oil painting huckery the guy from Twilight

Quachil: Quail egg, Angel of Darkness, Miss fortune, Little misfortune, Fukouya no Musume, 9 eyes

Yan Luo: Princess of Death, Kuchisake-onna

Orcus: Willy, Springtrap, Freddy five bear, purple guy #1

Ishtar: pesto, ratatoing, Remy, Ratatouille, Boogeyman, Notcha, tartare sauce, Tar-tar, “Unknown Specimen 5”

Teutates: Teutitties, Tates, Tutes, Teutsie roll/pop, “Monster 6”

Ah Puch: Sans undertale

Dagda: Dags, Daggy, Rags, Ragdolly, Strasheela, doll, dollface, Dagdy, Dagds, Raggedy Ann/Andy, Dog-da, good boy

Izanami: Izzy, Izzy Nami, Zanami, Izzyzz, Ring girl, TV lady Zazanami, Yang, She-who-invites,

[endiness]

aaronastanford Welly welly welly well. If it isn’t our old Droogie Pyro… #deadpool3 #pyrosback

[alexkreepy]

Ain't nobody dance no more see the paint upon my pants I tore!!! Aha good evening my droogies lovely too see you

Ignore the filter idk how to take it off but I think I'm goated

[alonsolobotomy]

welll thank you🫵

my page is so normal until u see all the down bad megadeth shit

[francis-writes]

Hello! Can I request headcanons of Alex DeLarge with a shy and chubby girlfriend? Can be sfw and/or nsfw. Thank you! <3

Warnings: Alex being Alex

SFW

Alex doesn't care about look that much. I mean, he likes to dress up and he likes pretty things but in general, for him body is a body. He likes women, men, nonbinary folks, skinny, chubby, muscled, tall, short, etc etc

Because of it you may think that you're less special but nah. Alex looked at all the people and he was "i want that one. This cute pie"

There might be problems bc of your different personalities, because while he enjoys once in a while to stay with you at home and watch movies, most of the times Alex tries to pull you out of your shell. Maybe not full ultraviolence and visiting poor citizens but taking you to the bar with his droogies or taking you for a ride

As we're talking about droogies, Alex likes to say dirty comments when you're with them, and he also doesn't keep his hands to himself. And - that actually happens when your not around- you can expect that drogies know secrets of your intimate life.

On a positive side, he makes sure you don't get into EDs or if you're currently fighting one - he supports you and tries to help you get out of it

He likes to get you on dates in town and spoil you rotten (don't ask him how he got the money). Buying you new clothes, taking you to the cinema, theatre, whatever you want, you get it. And some more. Alex may not be the best at emotions, but he covers it playing stereotypical best-boyfriend-ever

Also, his ideas of dating (dating, not one night stands which is a completely different scenario from him) probably comes mostly from old movies so if you want to know how it's like, just picture dating 50s gentleman (with a glimpse of madness behind his eyes)

NSFW

I know it's totally clichè but he wants you to sit on his face and squeeze it with your thighs

He always liked to talk dirty, but it turns him on ever more when he sees you blushing and embarassed

If you are shy in bedroom as well, Alex will probably try to change it. Well, your shyness itself he finds cute, but he will encourage you to try more positions and some of his kinks

In terms of kinks, it would be easier to tell what kink he doesn't have, but it's mostly bdsm, especially bondage, spanking, humiliation and praising (him). connected - cnc. Old habits die hard so he will be even more turned on when you wiggle and scream and try to escape from him

[demonicnarwhale]

Bunch of Doodles part 5

Really trying to force myself to draw with that whole one layer thing. I will never shut up about it because it's frustratingly hard and I am saluting and bowing down to everyone who does draw like that.

no clue if I've already shared some of the Doze drawings I have sitting around

smurf lookin' ass hey droogie boogie

got a fuck ton of pens and brushes i use so here's a tip if you guys do to. Sometimes you forget what brush you used so just make a note or I just screenshot the pen. (very unhelpful no brainer but it's to explain why there's that screenshot in the corner)

I'm sure i shared the one on the left but it's just Eel enjoying repetition and not finishing her fucking drawings teehee 💔💔💔

Boobcars IMADE HIM LOOK LIKE THAT COVER THEM UP SLUT MEME FROM THIS CROPPING

cursing myself for how ridiculous her sleeves are cursing myself

Trace oh Trace, my favorite to draw (after Die, Crowbar, Itchy ((can you believe it? Itchy)) )

Grins

dont give me that look you know im an avid fan for Snowbar

they get to curse each other out in Japanese and fight to the death, good friends.

and then a car runs them over-

I CAN NEVER DRAW HIM PERFECTLY THE SAME THERE'S ALWAYS SOME LIL DIFFERENCE SCREAMS AND GRIES (grins + cries)

[blackangelism]

pen names: Demonic Lolita, droogie babydoll, mother of cain

mother of cain... that's a cute label but not a penname

i love the effort though, it's so sweet to see these. really makes my heart jump a metre or two.