i just know jughead rolls his eyes whenever veronica gives archie silly nicknames or talks about his abs and yet he will turn around and do exactly the same thing... typing it out on a shitty laptop does not make it any different gay jughead
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

#extradirty
Cosimo Galluzzi

JBB: An Artblog!

Kiana Khansmith
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
wallacepolsom
sheepfilms
Misplaced Lens Cap
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Jules of Nature

styofa doing anything

shark vs the universe
Acquired Stardust

blake kathryn
🪼
ojovivo
One Nice Bug Per Day
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@vigilantisming
i just know jughead rolls his eyes whenever veronica gives archie silly nicknames or talks about his abs and yet he will turn around and do exactly the same thing... typing it out on a shitty laptop does not make it any different gay jughead

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Me when I state the theme
Shameless — 10.07 | “Citizen Carl”

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In Thomas Page McBee’s “Amateur,” a memoir about being the first trans man to box in Madison Square Garden, and an exploration on masculinity itself, the memoirist writes that his then-girlfriend told him,
“Maybe, instead of looking for the men you want to be, you need to face your worst fears about who you are.”
She is referring to the dangerousness of the patriarchy and possibly being a part of it.
In Stanislaw Lem’s “Solaris” a 1960s science fiction novel about an alien ocean that creates apparitions of your greatest regrets, Lem writes the following dialogue:
"A normal man," he said. "What is a normal man? A man who has never committed a disgraceful act? Maybe, but has he never had uncontrollable thoughts? Perhaps he hasn't. But perhaps something, a phantasm, rose up from somewhere within him, ten or thirty years ago, something which he suppressed and then forgot about, which he doesn't fear since he knows he will never allow it to develop and so lead to any action on his part. And now, suddenly, in broad daylight, he comes across this thing ... this thought, embodied, riveted to him, indestructible.
He wonders where he is ... Do you know where he is?"
"Where?"
"Here," whispered Snow, "on Solaris."
Then, roughly 60 years later, Thomas Page McBee writes about his run in with a would-be mugger. He says:
“I tried to avoid thinking about it, until my run-in with the man on Orchard Street clarified her wisdom. There he was, finally, my awful mirror: when he balled his fists, I balled mine.
If you happened upon the scene and didn't know me, you'd be hard-pressed to identify what made us so different, and you'd be right.”
Lem writes:
“We think of ourselves as the Knights of the Holy Contact.
This is another lie. We are only seeking Man. We have no need of other worlds. We need mirrors.”
Maybe you are a trans man afraid of what it means to be a man, maybe you’re a cis man feeling unsure of how to be a good guy. Lem and McBee have very little in common; Lem was Polish and barely escaped the Nazis, McBee lives in New York and writes for television. But they both understood something about loneliness and the terrifying reality of what it means to look inward.
But as the scientists are in Solaris, we have to be curious, we have to keep looking, and we have to believe that a better self is possible.
Toxic Yaoi I just made up: Leo Bloom from the Producers was on the cruise that Frank Shepard took midway through Merrily. They shared a passionate, drunk night together, but then pretended not to remember in the morning. You see, their careers are too close. It's just businesses, not personal
friendly reminder that they literally assassinated caesar on the anniversary of jughead faking his own death
RIVERDALE (2017 - 2023) s04e13: Chapter Seventy "The Ides of March"

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Happy ides of march! Otherwise known as The-biggest-part-of-the-mystery-is-that-Jughead-was-in-fact-hit-in-the-head-with-a-rock-and-did-get-knocked-out-by-the-stonies-however-his-beanie-absorbed-most-of-the-blow-saving-his-life Day
Every family drama play: It's funny. I never thought I'd come back to my childhood home. Because of the Secrets. But now that both my parents are dead, my (two or three) siblings and I have to go through all their things.
Oh, these Things. So meaningful. We were both extravagantly rich and extravagantly poor, and solidly middle class, to make us both grandiose and relatable...
My husband is here, too. To support me. His family is neither extravagantly rich nor extravagantly poor. "Normal." In other words. I could never relate.
He has never met my family. Because of the Secrets.
When we were kids, my (two or three) siblings and I would play a game called Ghosts and Shadows...But being here, in this old house, I realize that the Ghosts and Shadows are real. In a figurative sense.
Who is that? Someone's already in the house. Oh! My brother...I thought...I thought you were dead! I haven't spoken to you in between eight and twenty years. Because of the Secrets. What are you doing? What is that grimy old book you're reading? Is that--Father's diary? No, I don't want to look at it. It might contain answers to the Secrets, but open up even more questions about where we came from...who we were...and most daunting of all, what we are destined for.
happy what the hell are you doing here what are YOU doing here i go to school here why are you in a wig Monday
RIVERDALE Chapter One: The River's Edge
When Jughead commissioned a sculptor friend in New York to create a statue of Archie to mythologize him as the good part of the town and the paragon of the true american dream and suburbian stability that was a #GayMoment
Reblog with other #GayMoments of jughead

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A poem can be anything. A poem can be when you're sick and newly single on Valentine's Day feeling sad and sorry for yourself, realizing that your shut blackout curtains are actually reflecting a beautiful lovey red/pink into your living room and then crashing out about it bc doesn't that just kinda speak to the [waves arms around] of it all