Some actors look like they were born in a lab built exclusively for glistening torsos, comedic timing, and just enough self-awareness to make it endearing instead of infuriating. Enter Alan Ritchson, a man who has carved a niche in Hollywood as the human equivalent of a very hot Golden Retriever — loyal, muscular, slightly chaotic, and, crucially, in on the joke.
Let’s get this out of the way: yes, Alan Ritchson is absurdly good-looking. He looks like someone used ChatGPT to generate a “small-town lumberjack who could also convincingly play a Marvel hero, youth pastor, or underwear model” prompt and then told Midjourney to make it six-foot-three and shirt-averse. And while that might normally make him an easy target for the kind of derision reserved for men who post gym selfies with Bible verses, Ritchson has managed to weaponize his hotness for good — and for content.
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Take his recent Instagram antics. Even with Reacher Season 3 wrapped, Ritchson’s shirt remains MIA. The man is currently in Australia shooting Runner, an action-thriller that presumably includes some variation of him running shirtless from, or toward, an explosion. But if his Instagram is to be believed, the only thing he’s running from is sleeves.
Cue: an early-morning selfie featuring a bed, a pillow, and enough muscle mass to make protein shake companies consider sponsorship deals. What could easily have been a thirst trap wrapped in a veil of gym grind inspiration turned into something else entirely: a chaotic ode to hotness that didn’t take itself too seriously. It’s as if someone put Chris Hemsworth, Jason Momoa, and a TikTok himbo into a blender, added creatine and dad jokes, and poured out Alan Ritchson.
And listen — the gays? We see it. We appreciate it. We are legally and spiritually obligated to. Ritchson’s entire aesthetic — hyper masculine looks with a playful, soft-core personality — hits a very specific nerve in the queer community. There’s something about a straight man who’s extremely attractive, knows it, and chooses to be delightfully unserious about it that is pure gay catnip. He’s not just posing for admiration; he’s performing for the timeline. There’s a difference, and it matters.
In the comment section of his latest post, there’s an entire mini-universe of people saying things like, “raw raw raw ah ah or whatever lady gaga said,” and “Really appreciate how much you know what your audience wants. I feel seen.” It’s a space where thirst and humor co-exist — like a 2008 Tumblr dashboard come to life. And Ritchson, to his credit, seems to be egging it on with glee.
Is this a rebrand? Not quite. Ritchson has always carried that square-jawed, beefcake energy, but in the era of social media, he’s learned to wield it like a ring light: carefully positioned and extremely flattering. His persona is a winning cocktail of hot dad, internet troll, and your one straight friend who’s weirdly great at quoting RuPaul’s Drag Race. (No proof, but the vibe is there.)
And honestly? That self-awareness, combined with a healthy dose of thirst activism, is why gay fans love him. He’s not pandering; he’s participating. He’s not trying to be a gay icon — but in that very nonchalance lies his appeal. He’s the hunky himbo we didn’t ask for, but now won’t give back.
So until Reacher returns or Runner drops, you’ll find us — phones in hand, hearts in throats — living for every Alan Ritchson post that walks the fine line between sincere, sweaty gym rat and delightful internet himbo. Bless his chest, and bless his chaos.
You are the most brilliant entertaining writer with a twist of lemon. Thx.
Thank you, Michael! May your day be as great as mine after your appreciation.