“But we’re on the boat!”

My five year goal is to have blown up as many yachts as Alex Rider and own a bath long enough to to lie down in full length

[butwereontheboat]

My dear friends, colleagues, adjacent mutuals, people barely tolerating me when I forgot to connect my headphones and six seconds of summer sons burst out in the Buenos Aires airport lounge, THIS IS YOUR 2026 REMINDER!

Alex Rider, bad haircut, failing all of his GCSEs while still having a preternatural ability to snark, deeply weird understanding of public transport in Venice, desperately needs therapy but no therapist is ready for him: once set a boat alight while he was on it, out of sheer pettiness and spite, and also for other good reasons I guess.

My dear friends: may we all bring a “BUT WE’RE ON THE BOAT - I KNOW” energy into 2026.

Fucking burn the boat, whatever your boat may be.

I believe in us.

[butwereontheboat]

My dear patient friends, colleagues, comrades in arms, please absolve me for my absence. IT IS OCTOBER! WE MADE IT! HERE IS YOUR FRIENDLY REMINDER:

Welcome to autumn, although not me as I live in Singapore which remains a sort of seasonless well-run infinitely polite purgatory.

This is your kind and friendly reminder that Alex Rider, undiagnosed bisexual adhd, canonically hates the moment the devil put the alphabet in maths, manipulates teachers and organised criminals like the producers on the Bachelor (same genre) but can’t admit a single feeling to himself out of stupidity and avoidance, once had an emotion and went to Italy and joined a criminal organisation about it, has been listening to Olivia Rodrigo’s “vampire” so much his Spotify wrapped is a nightmare, was once shoved into a bullfighting ring and emerged physically unscathed and with only minor emotional damage in the moment.

We too have the power to say “fuck that was weird” and move on, and not have to deal with it for at least another three books’ worth! This is a problem for future us! If at all! Also, believe in the power of saying “fuck that was weird” and just. Moving on. Alex does, and so can we.

We already made it this far and we too deserve a granita and an exploding yacht and I truly wish that for your futures. Keep putting shit off. I believe in us.

[butwereontheboat]

Also in the intervening time I got a doctorate in cancer research which is wild, hey?

[butwereontheboat]

My dear patient friends, colleagues, comrades in arms, please absolve me for my absence. IT IS OCTOBER! WE MADE IT! HERE IS YOUR FRIENDLY REMINDER:

Welcome to autumn, although not me as I live in Singapore which remains a sort of seasonless well-run infinitely polite purgatory.

This is your kind and friendly reminder that Alex Rider, undiagnosed bisexual adhd, canonically hates the moment the devil put the alphabet in maths, manipulates teachers and organised criminals like the producers on the Bachelor (same genre) but can’t admit a single feeling to himself out of stupidity and avoidance, once had an emotion and went to Italy and joined a criminal organisation about it, has been listening to Olivia Rodrigo’s “vampire” so much his Spotify wrapped is a nightmare, was once shoved into a bullfighting ring and emerged physically unscathed and with only minor emotional damage in the moment.

We too have the power to say “fuck that was weird” and move on, and not have to deal with it for at least another three books’ worth! This is a problem for future us! If at all! Also, believe in the power of saying “fuck that was weird” and just. Moving on. Alex does, and so can we.

We already made it this far and we too deserve a granita and an exploding yacht and I truly wish that for your futures. Keep putting shit off. I believe in us.

[butwereontheboat]

My dear friends!! HAPPY JULY! WE MADE IT! I am submitting my thesis at the end of this month and we won’t ever talk again about the psychological warfare that is nvivo but we are here!!!

This is your July reminder that Alex Rider, just wanted to be a footballer but with few demonstrated football skills, maths geek, not lying on the floor physically but lying on the floor spiritually, once derailed a train by putting diesel in a thermos.

I know that sometimes everything gets a bit bleak but I believe in us! We too can find surprising solutions involving kitchen utensils for problems! I believe in you! We’ve got this!

[onekisstotakewithme]

having online friends who are busy is just like. I LOVE YOU. I miss you. YOU GOT THIS. I'm giving you space to work. I LOVE YOU.

[onekisstotakewithme]

reminder to everyone i haven't talked to lately: I love you. we'll be fine. I LOVE YOU. I am waiting for you. I hope you are well. I love you.

[saythemahae]

⭑#andreil āu .ᐟ ⤸

☕: chapter six

[butwereontheboat]

OP my HEART? I’m in WORK? I’m supposed to be useful but my HEART?!

[butwereontheboat]

HAPPY TOILS DAY, to those who celebrate

[butwereontheboat]

I’ve spent my entire life searching for the perfect pillow configuration I found that one night when I was fifteen

[eliotquillon]

ok listen nobody appreciates that skeleton key is a massive bundle of internal contradictions that messes up the rest of the main series timeline better than i do. like trust me i am also a continuity error hater. but unfortunately or not it is kind of the book about alex and family. not about john, or ian, or yassen, but specifically alex: he playacts in three different families (the pleasures, troy and turner, sarov) and none of them fit. he daydreams about his parents not as idols or shadows to live under but as familial structures that might have shaped him had they lived: he ‘might have been a softer person’, he thinks. he ‘probably would’ve had more friends’. it always gets glossed over but alex chose to go to wimbledon; it’s the first time he agrees to help MI6 without any kind of external pressure. it has nothing to do with john at all. 23 years on and sarov remains the only villain to explicitly kill himself because alex refused to step into the shoes of another dead teenager. you cannot play a son if you’ve never had a father. if you’ve never had a mother. you are fourteen years old and you cannot go home. you are fourteen years old and maybe home never existed at all.

[butwereontheboat]

[butwereontheboat]

My dear friends, I apologise for not being regular with this. A lot has happened including geopolitics which I don’t want to get into but: Rihanna attended the met gala and the pink suit man didn’t (ideal), ncuti gatwa is killing it as dr who, I evicted 4 little lizards from my flat (they don’t pay rent, I need only one to catch bugs)

But. BUT.

My dear friends, colleagues, comrades in arms, WE HAVE MADE IT TO MAY 2025! Let’s take a look back! Did we think we’d make it to here?!

Alex Rider, terrible haircut, joined not one but two terrorist organisations out of spite yet somehow still retains British citizenship, body of an athlete but gets that by running on adrenaline and energy drinks, stupid haircut, has 3 dad figures none of whom are alive, certified chaos agent, about to do real bad in his a-levels, is coping with his trauma the mechanisms that he knows best, sometimes those mechanisms are plastic explosives.

I believe that we too can make it through May by taking deep breaths and creating elaborate takedown plans for the people who have wronged us. We don’t need to enact them, it’s just nice to have something to dream about in the shower. We’re doing great.

[magicboxoftwine]

Snowboarding on an ironing board

Oil pastel. 11 1/2" x 4 1/2"

[saint-sebastian-coded]

not having my main social media apps on my phone really means that when i go on them on my laptop to just check what's happening, i end up scrolling through my mutuals' blogs like the newspaper

[butwereontheboat]

Started listening to a new audiobook. 20 minutes in, and some clearly traumatised child has been somehow kidnapped into signing into a university sports team for a made up sport that seems to be some sort of more evil lacrosse after getting hit in the stomach by a lacrosse stick, while being concerned because the captain of more evil lacrosse is a guy he last saw 8 years ago when they watched his dad murder someone and who doesn't recognise him anymore

[butwereontheboat]

They are talking about this made up sport like it's some sort of gothic noble family. He's met his team mates (?) and three of them speak German (reason unspecified) and he also speaks German (reason unspecified) and he's worried that if he shows he understands then the captain will recognise him, despite him not having known German the last time he saw him

[butwereontheboat]

THE CAPTAINS NAME IS KEVIN

I am not going to be able to be normal about this

[butwereontheboat]

Started listening to a new audiobook. 20 minutes in, and some clearly traumatised child has been somehow kidnapped into signing into a university sports team for a made up sport that seems to be some sort of more evil lacrosse after getting hit in the stomach by a lacrosse stick, while being concerned because the captain of more evil lacrosse is a guy he last saw 8 years ago when they watched his dad murder someone and who doesn't recognise him anymore

[butwereontheboat]

They are talking about this made up sport like it's some sort of gothic noble family. He's met his team mates (?) and three of them speak German (reason unspecified) and he also speaks German (reason unspecified) and he's worried that if he shows he understands then the captain will recognise him, despite him not having known German the last time he saw him

[butwereontheboat]

Started listening to a new audiobook. 20 minutes in, and some clearly traumatised child has been somehow kidnapped into signing into a university sports team for a made up sport that seems to be some sort of more evil lacrosse after getting hit in the stomach by a lacrosse stick, while being concerned because the captain of more evil lacrosse is a guy he last saw 8 years ago when they watched his dad murder someone and who doesn't recognise him anymore

[butwereontheboat]

. Thay been Egges. Thay been Egges

[butwereontheboat]

*Speaking through a megaphone voice with the energy of my oboe teacher who really wants me to care about Poulenc* MY DEAR DEAR FRIENDS, reluctant colleagues, people who are new to Alex rider and whom we embrace: IT IS FEBRUARY! Well done us!! This is your gentle but firm monthly reminder that Alex Rider, confirmed idiot, once reneged on his duties as a ballboy at Wimbledon, we actually don’t even know if homeboy has a work contract with SIS but presumably they must pay him in more than brand name coke, once got embroiled in a hair brained scheme to use a virus to cause a fake outbreak and despite nearly getting eaten by crocodiles exposed the whole enterprise.

Sometimes we find ourselves in situations not of our own making! And we have no choice but to do the right thing! And it’s difficult most of the time and also boring a lot of the time but we do it because it’s right!!! And I believe in us to do it and understand that it’s hard - emotionally and physically. If Alex can fight off the real crocodiles we can fight off the metaphorical (and sometimes real) crocodiles. I believe in you.

(Except my oboe teacher who can absolutely fuck off with Poulenc, the second movement is inexplicable, I am an adult and will not be doing it)